Theme: On The Edge

On The Edge is all about the sweet torture of delayed pleasure. It could be a dominant partner making their lover beg for release or a game that pushes self-control to its limits. This theme is all about tension, anticipation, and desire that builds and builds, until it finally explodes. Or maybe it doesn’t…

Submit a story fitting this theme and use the flair 'April 2025 Monthly Contest'.

The winner is whoever has the most upvotes on their story within the monthly timeframe.

Rules:

1. This must be a newly written, original story. No reposting old content.

2. Posts must be one-shots. Do not make a series and post a part each month.

3. Follow the given prompt and the rules of the subreddit. So no incest, no bestiality, no rape etc.

4. The minimum post length is 1k words, and the maximum is 3k words. You can not finish a story in the comments either. Keep it tight!

5. You must tag your post with the contest flair. This will allow us to sort through and see the highest upvoted post. No flair, no consideration for the contest.

6. The contest starts today and ends on the last day of the month.

7. It is allowed to make multiple entries during the month.

8. You can post your story in other subs or sites, but it is not allowed to request upvotes in other places. Let just the people in this sub judge the entries.

The winner will also be given their very own user flair of 'Monthly Contest Winner' to distinguish them!

Anyone who gets over 150 upvotes on a story (including outside of the contest), or over 100 three times, will get a Top Erotica Writer flair.

Stories tagged with the competition flair that do not engage with the theme or break the rules will be removed! Repeat offenders may be banned. Read the theme and rules carefully.

Previous Winners

2024

2025

Monthly Contest Winners 2025

Congrats to the writers who won the monthly contest! 2024 winners are here.

January 2025 - Theme: Winter Heat

Winner: I fuck my former babysitter during my winter break from school by u/Illustrious_Wave_702

February 2025 - Theme: Kinky Cupid

Winner: Be Careful of Valentine’s Day Chocolate by u/Radiant_Code_3652

March 2025 - Theme: Desk Bound

Winner: I'm a female intern at a sperm bank, and my job is to make the guys cum by u/Illustrious_Wave_702

“Now fuck me before he gets out"

-----------

She stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter with an apple held in one hand, the other absently pushing a lock of hair away from her face. The taut material of her shirt hugged her body, and I could see the contours of her nipples, hard and teasing. God, she wasn't wearing a bra. I attempted to look away and concentrate on something else, but my gaze kept drifting back to her, betraying me repeatedly. She noticed me staring—she always did—and a slow, knowing smile crept across her lips.

"Enjoying the view?" she said, crunching down on the apple. The noise of her teeth biting into the fruit was strangely provocative, and I could feel my cock twitching in my jeans. She leaned her head to one side, her gaze fixed on mine, and I could feel the wickedness building in her eyes. She was playing me like a cat with a mouse.

The muffled ring of the shower in the background was the only thing that kept me sane. Her roommate was inside, unaware, the soothing beat of the water coupled with the thumping music coming from her phone. She moved a little closer, her naked legs rubbing against mine, and I could smell the subtle whiff of her shampoo—something floral and heady.

He'll be a while," she murmured, her voice low and husky. She put the apple down on the counter and leaned back, her hands splayed across the top of it. "What are you going to do about it?

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My hands fluttered at my sides, wanting to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine. She arched an eyebrow, challenging me, and I couldn't help myself anymore. I moved closer, bridging the gap between us, and she let out a gentle laugh that sent a shiver through me.

“That’s more like it,” she murmured, her breath warm against my ear. Her hands slid up my chest, her nails lightly scratching through the fabric of my shirt. “But you’re going to have to do better than that.”

I didn't have time to answer because she took my wrist and placed my hand between her legs. My fingers touched her soft skin, and I felt with a shock that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. No panties. She moved against me, her mouth on my neck as she breathed, "Didn't think I'd need them today."

I didn't need any more incitement. I went down on my knees, my hands on her hips as I drew her in close. She gasped softly, her fingers weaving through my hair as I kissed her. She was wet, her smell sending me crazy, and I didn't waste any time torturing her. I used my tongue to flick against her clit, and she emitted a soft moan that caused my cock to jerk reactively.

"Fuck," she gasped, her hips bucking forward as I went deeper. I could feel her thighs shaking under my hands, and I knew she was close. I sucked softly, my tongue tracing a circle around her before coming back to her clit, and she released a strangled cry, her fingers clenching in my hair.

"That's it," she hissed, her breath barely audible. "Don't stop."

I didn't. I continued, my movements speeding up as she arched her back, her moans louder. I could sense her body tightening, her thighs closing around my head as she climaxed, her cries barely suppressed. Her legs buckled, and she leaned against the counter, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to breathe.

But she wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.

She reached down and wrapped my arm around her waist, hauling me to my feet. Her eyes were black with hunger, her mouth swollen from biting on her moans. She thrust her body against mine, her fingers struggling with the button of my jeans. "Now fuck me," she commanded, her voice hot with need. "Before he gets out." I didn't take long to be told. I unbuckled my jeans, my dick springing loose as she lifted her shirt and led me inside her. She was still so wet, so tight, and I moaned as I pushed myself deep into her. Her fingers raked into my shoulders as I pumped into her, the noise of our skin smacking together mixing with the music still drifting through the room.

She wrapped her legs around my waist, drawing me in deeper, and I could sense her walls contracting around me. Her breathing came in quick, sharp gasps, her lips against my neck as she breathed, "Harder.

I complied, fucking her with an urgency I didn't know I possessed. Her cries increased, more uninhibited, and I knew we were playing with fire. The water in the bathroom had shut off, and I could hear her roommate stirring, but neither of us slowed down. If anything, the danger only intensified.

Hello, my name is Kate and I am addicted to being blackmailed. I am currently being blackmailed by 5 men in my company with the latest one being the one I'm here to tell you about. I'm not sure what it is, but the thrill of the perceived powerlessness as well as the pure egotistical pleasure of the blackmailer turns me on like nothing else can. It's also just fun pretending like I don't want to do the things they demand me to do, especially the fact that they don't know I go home and masturbate to the memories.

This all started with today's iteration of the oldest profession: OnlyFans. The soul sucking company that I work for has, for the 6th year in a row, successfully met its yearly KPI of crushing my dreams. The monolithic entity that it is, has long since forgotten the base qualities of humanity, preferring to churn out profit over the well-being (and well-paying) of its workers. As such, I did what many women do to make ends meet. Sell their bodies. I've still got a few good years left in me and the idea has always excited me. Pictures of my tits do exist somewhere in the festering swamp that is the Internet, although there are no identifying marks to prove it. And if it was any level of foreshadowing, I had a powerful orgasm reading the comments.

This whole thing started with a slightly too SEO optimized OnlyFans page that is a bit too high up the Google results page when you look up my name. I'm not going to say it here but I have a relatively uncommon last name and anyone hoping to find a public Instagram page with my bikini pics will end up stumbling onto a far greater treasure than they expected (for only $7.99 a month). As a result, the men in my company who do find it tend to be the less than sultry ones.

And that's how it first started. A man I had never met working in a department I'd never heard of pulled me to the side to tell me that unless I sent him some private pictures, he was going to leak it to the company that I was on OnlyFans. Now the company is far too sluggish and decrepit to have any such policy against such a modern concept. I'm not sure the fax machines that HR uses to transmit our policies have ever had the words "only" and "fans" on the same page. Regardless, he believed that the shame of this news getting out would scare me into submission. Little did he know that while he anxiously and hungrily leaned over to whisper this to me, I was getting wet at the idea. I feebly agreed to his terms and sent him (on his second phone lest his wife find out) many-a-nude pics for his self-indulgent pleasure. Quite pathetically, he would thank me for each picture.

The second man who approached me felt a lot more brazen about his leverage. There was no such timidness in his approach, ambushing me in the parking lot in broad daylight. Within the same moment, he had me in the passenger side of his parked car swallowing the length of his member. I still remember the salty taste of a cock that was packaged for a bit too long in a sweltering office with a broken A/C. He came in my mouth, let out an exasperated gasp of pleasure and said that was incredible. I had to resist the urge to plunge my finger into my dripping cunt, for fear of him realizing I was enjoying this just as much as he was. He seemed to so clearly enjoy the fact of my reluctance and I didn't want to take away that pleasure from him (and by proxy me).

I won't go into detail about number 3 or 4 but let's just say I now have a working professional relationship with these 4 men. Rarely does a day go by where I don't get summoned to some forgotten corner of this office to suck, lick, or fuck at least one of these men. Each time, I beg and plead and resist. Making them promise this is the last time before bashfully taking their cocks into my mouth.

But I'm here to tell you about number 5. The latest and definitely the greatest. While the first 4 take pleasure in the moment of control they have over me during the act, number 5 has been tormenting on a whole meta level.

Number 5 works in IT and our relationship started with an email. Dangerously traceable. All the email said was: "I know." I knew exactly what he knew and I excitedly indulged in his intrigue.

"What do you know?" I responded.

"7.99 gave me everything. Even if you deactivate the account, everyone in this company will know." I had no such intentions of deactivation. Why would I disable the greatest source of excitement I've had in years?

"But I'll just use this email as proof of your blackmail. I could have you fired." I countered. I wasn't planning on doing it but I was curious why he would be so sloppy.

"I control these servers. These emails do not functionally exist." Alright, I like this. A man with a plan.

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"Meet me in server room 12. 18th floor. 10 minutes."

And so up I went. A floor I'd never been to in a room I'd never thought of. I entered into a chilling atmosphere, rows of servers (at least I assume they were servers) stacked nearly to the low ceiling, blinking lights almost musical in rhythm. I walked around, peering through each row to find the room seemingly completely empty, save for the low humming of the electricity surging through the systems. Once I reached the end of one side of the room I noticed another room nested at the end of it. It had blinds covering the window in the door.

I approached the door and knocked.

"Come in," the voice said from the other side. I walked in.

Inside was a man wearing the same drab "uniform" that every other male in this building wore. Buttoned shirt and a tie with uninspired patterns, paired with khaki pants and a pair of leather shoes. Something you'd get ordering "boring" off Amazon. The man himself was also unassuming. He was clean cut, clean shaven and seemed to be as uninviting as his attire.

"Sit down," he gestured towards a chair. I sat. A good obedient girl. "Take off your top."

"Excuse me?" I feigned shock. It always went this way, it was no surprise. But they liked shocking me.

"I have leverage-"

"I don't give a shit what you have," I cut him off, "I'm not here to be your personal stripper." This may come across quite aggressive but what I learned from man #3 was that breaking my defiance made the submission all the more satisfying.

"Look at this screen," he said, turning a monitor towards me. On it was a spreadsheet with some code looking stuff on the right. The names on the sheet were every coworker I have ever worked with and their managers, all the way up to the CEO. "If I hit this button, my script will send an anonymous email to all your acquaintances with a link to your OnlyFans alongside every image and video you have ever uploaded on there. Your career will be ruined and you will never be able to look these people in the eye ever again."

Well well, a man with a plan indeed. He was pushing the limits of this leverage and it turned me on to know the lengths he would go to gain my submission. Frankly, I wouldn't care if I never saw a single one of these assholes ever again. I'd happily retire to pick strawberries in a field. It would be a nice change of pace. But his subtle look of pride told me this was his final hand and he was proud of his work. I stared at the screen, mocking distress and contemplation. I decided saying anything would risk forcing him to come up with additional arguments that wouldn't be as convincing. He was riding high right now, let's give him a win.

I began unbuttoning my blouse, keeping my eyes on the monitor. From the edge of my view I saw him shift. Was that nervousness? I took my top completely off revealing a red laced bra. Way sexier of an attire for work but man #3 had asked me to wear it for our 4pm appointment. The room was genuinely cold so I gripped my arms, unintentionally pushing my breasts together.

"Take the bra off as well."

I felt my cheeks flush slightly red. Not from embarrassment but from excitement. But from his point of view he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I quietly unhooked my bra revealing my tits to the biting air. My nipples hardened almost instantly. I covered them with my arms.

"Arms down." Good boy. I dropped my arms and feigned annoyance. "Get on your knees." He commanded.

"Why?" I retorted quickly, a bit of resistance for his pleasure.

"Because you don't have a choice," he replied with an elevated tone.

"Please, just... don't do this." God I was getting wet. He looked almost concerned. But then there was a switch. I don't know how to describe it but he suddenly went from standard office worker to... something else. His face got darker even though the flickering fluorescents in the room stayed the same. And with one smooth motion he suddenly descended upon me, bending down to reach my face with his, hovering inches away. I instinctively turned away which he quickly fixed with a grip on my turned away cheek, turning my face back towards his. I met his eyes with almost genuine fear. Almost.

"As far as you're concerned, you're not Kate from Marketing. You're my play thing until I'm done with you. So take solace in the fact you're free to dissociate and have an out of body experience if you need to. All I need is the body that you so proudly decided to show the Internet. Be quick, efficient and delicious and it'll be over quickly." He let go of my cheek and took a small step back. "Now on your knees."

I took a second to pause. I felt a little shaken by the intensity. I definitely didn't expect it coming from Mr. IT support and it seemed almost sadistic. God I was so wet. It was a good thing I still had my pants on or the illusion of my fear would've been shattered by the soaked leather chair that I was sitting on. I slowly got off the chair and sunk down to my knees.

"Look up at me and stick your tongue out. Just like that one picture on your OnlyFans."

I did as I was told. I felt the cold dry air begin to dry my tongue. I was so vulnerable, my tits and chest pushed outwards by my upturned head, my tongue out in the ultimate act of submission: waiting.

"Now say the caption that you wrote for that photo," he said as he began unbuckling his pants.

"What capshen?" I mumbled with my tongue still sticking out.

"Don't play coy," he bit back as he pulled his cock out. I couldn't really see it since I was told to look up at him but the atmosphere of the room changed as soon as it was out. It always changed. "You know exactly what the caption said."

I did know. I felt my heart speed up at the idea of what I was about to say. Like I said before, there was foreshadowing that I was this type of girl but nobody had ever made me be one before. And I felt the excitement of the idea turn me on more than I had ever been turned on. He approached me, his half erect cock inches from my lips. He waited for me to say it.

"I need your cock to slide across my tongue, master."

And with that, he slid it in.

The way you look up at me.

It’s hard not to lose it.

When you’re kneeling, hands perched softly on each knee, leaning forward, mouth slightly ajar. Are you genuflecting? Meditating? Prostration with a side of admiration?

Me, standing over you, looming, shadow long over the slight furrow of your brow. You’re expressive without saying a word. Eyes soft and slightly misty. Bottom lip in that slight pout. Cheeks pert and attentive around that dreamy and delicate smile.

You wait.

You’ll wait as long as I want you to.

You might start to bounce your ass against your heels, bite your lip a little harder, whine in anticipation or impatience or, more likely, both. But, still, you wait.

I know what you’re thinking: Give it to me.

But should I?

Now?

What about later?

Maybe I just want you to sit there and grow warm thinking about it. Eyes on my fingers, hitched over my belt. They’re not doing anything. Just tapping. So why are you starting to soak your boyshorts?

The hairs on the back of your neck bristling when I run my hand along it, fingers wrapping around, cupping you from behind. It’s funny, isn’t it, the way my grip fits so perfectly just below your hairline?

Wait.

Just wait.

Shouldn’t this be easy?

Anticipate.

Salivate.

Right?

Right.

Grip tightening, pulling you forward so your hands slide up to your kneecaps. I see the way you inhale, hold it, then breathe out, nice and deep. Eyes flicking between mine and, well, this thing. It moves. Grows. Throbs. That embodiment of all my base, primal urges–all directed towards you.

The North Star.

I wonder– What are you thinking?

When will it happen?

How will it happen?

I mean–you’ve been here before. This isn’t new. But, still–

I like to keep you off-balance. So if my hand slides down all the way from your neck to the small of your back and digs lightly right there, pausing, teasing, before plunging into your shorts and finding what I’m after–you might be surprised. Maybe just a little. I mean, you know it’s coming eventually, right? And if I lean forward at the same time, finger inside you as that bulging extremity prods against your sweet, soft lips–you might be a touch overwhelmed.

But of course you know that’s what I want.

Your mind racing. Barely registering anything beyond the physical sensations. One hand slipping down. The other moving to cradle your neck. My cock–outlined by the pima cotton of these boxer briefs–against your lips. Digitus secundus inside you, curling like I’m calling you over, dragging you closer, closer, closer–so you can feel the heat of my groin. Swelling, throbbing, thump, thump, thumping.

What’s going to happen?

I wonder.

Hmmmmmmm.

I mean, I have to take it out eventually, don’t I?

But maybe I want to keep fingering you–making you wet, hornier, needier, until you’re swaying back and forth against my palm, your eyes glistening with swelling lust.

Still waiting?

You’re just so fucking patient.

It’s impressive. A testament to your well-deserved status. Sweetheart. Always so patient. But teasing you like this–finger clutching at your wetness, pushing inward and then out, saying hello to Gräfenberg, before sliding to homebase (your clit, obviously)--keeps you wanting more. Paw at me. Eyes up here, begging without saying. Your thumbs hooked around my waistband, longing for it.

That’s it. A little tug.

Cock pressing so fucking hard against cotton.

Slide ‘em down.

Finally.

What a good girl.

Part 1 is here: https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/s/cQA7ABrr8Y

Monday evening.

The light outside had that late-spring glow—bright but softened, like the day didn’t want to end just yet. The house was quiet, and I was curled up on the couch in leggings and a thin, loose black top with wide sleeves that slid off one shoulder. I hadn’t changed to be seen. But if I was seen like this… I wouldn’t apologize for it.

I was halfway through scrolling headlines I wouldn’t read when my phone buzzed.

Connor:

Hey. Just picked Mia up. Sofia’s hoodie was in her bag.

I sat up a little straighter, smiling without meaning to.

Marie:

Thank you. I’ll see you at the game tomorrow—just bring it then.

A pause.

Connor:

Can’t make the game. Work thing.

Was just gonna give it to my sister to hand off.

I hesitated. I could’ve said okay, that works.

But I didn’t want to deal with his sister.

And I didn’t want this exchange to pass through anyone else’s hands.

Marie:

If it’s not too much trouble you could just drop it by my house?

No response. Not yet.

I added quickly:

Marie:

Only if you’re nearby. Don’t go out of your way.

The dots appeared.

Connor:

I can do that.

Or I can just stick it in your mailbox?

I looked out the window, toward the street corner where the mailbox cluster sat like a row of silver shoeboxes.

Marie:

That won’t work—ours are the new kind. Locked mailboxes down at the end of the neighborhood.

Another pause.

Marie:

Just come by. I’ll text you the address.

And I did.

Then I set the phone down, leaned back into the cushion, and told myself not to overthink it.

But I still checked my reflection in the mirror by the entryway.

Just once.

And when I saw what he’d be seeing when I opened the door…

I didn’t change a thing.

The doorbell rang at 7:12.

I watched the notification pop up on my phone—Front Door: Someone’s at the door—before I even stood up. The camera had already given me a clear view: Connor. Shorts, T-shirt, tennis shoes. Holding Sofia’s hoodie folded in one arm like he wasn’t sure whether to offer it or guard it.

I stood just inside the door for half a second. Not checking my reflection. Just… steadying myself.

Then I opened it.

He looked up, caught off guard by how quickly I answered. His mouth parted like he was about to speak, but he didn’t say anything right away.

“Hey,” I said softly, resting one hand on the edge of the door.

He smiled. “Hey.”

He held up the hoodie—still folded, one hand underneath it like it might unravel otherwise.

“Cargo successfully recovered,” he said.

I laughed. “She’ll be relieved.”

I stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in?”

He hesitated for a second—not unsure, just polite—then stepped inside.

The foyer gave way to a wide living room and an open kitchen, the ceilings high, the walls pale, the light softening through gauzy curtains. It was the kind of house made for visitors, for laughter, for presence. But right now, it was quiet.

Just the two of us.

I closed the door behind him. His shoes made no sound on the hardwood.

“You can just put it on the counter,” I said, nodding toward the kitchen island.

He set the hoodie down gently. Like it mattered.

And when he turned back to face me, he smiled—smaller now. A little more real.

“This is a nice place,” he said. “Big.”

I gave a quiet shrug. “Too big most days. Not big enough on others.”

He nodded, and for a moment, the silence held. Comfortable. Close. Like it knew what we were both thinking and promised not to say it aloud.

I turned toward the kitchen, brushing my hand lightly against the edge of the island as I passed.

“You want something to drink before you head out?” I asked.

He looked surprised. Just for a beat. “Sure.”

“I’ve got wine,” I said, pulling open a lower cabinet door, “but I keep the stronger stuff up here.”

I stood on my toes to reach for the upper shelf, fingertips grazing the edge of a bottle of bourbon.

“Beer or soda’s in the garage fridge,” I added.

He smiled. “You’ve got a whole system.”

“I’ve had company before,” I said. Then, more quietly, “It’s been a while.”

I brought the bottle down, set it on the counter, then opened the cabinet again to grab two short glasses. No ice.

As I poured, I glanced over my shoulder. “Have you eaten?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Well,” I said, “you came all this way. Be a shame to rush off.”

I handed him the glass.

Our fingers brushed.

He held my eyes for just a moment longer than polite.

Then took the drink.

Connor followed me in, drink in hand, shoes still on but careful on the wood. He didn’t make small talk. He looked around, respectfully, the way people do when they’re inside a space that’s not theirs but feels lived in.

Then his eyes paused on a framed photo on the side table near the wall—just off the hallway. A younger version of me. Longer hair, more blonde than grey. Standing beside a tall man with warm eyes and laugh lines. His hand at the small of my back. Mine across his chest.

Connor didn’t ask.

But he looked.

So I answered.

“It’s just me now.”

He turned slightly toward me. “Yeah?”

I nodded, letting out a small breath. “Widowed. It’s been… a while now.”

He didn’t say I’m sorry. He waited.

I stepped to the other side of the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, gesturing toward the chair across from me.

He sat—drink resting on his thigh, other hand loose across the armrest.

“Heart attack,” I said. “They called it a widow maker. Ironic, right?”

He stayed quiet.

“Sofia was three,” I added. “I stayed in our old house for another year, maybe two. But it felt like I was trying to live with a ghost. I couldn’t stay.”

I looked down into my glass.

“So I left.”

The silence didn’t rush in. It just settled. With respect.

Connor finally nodded. Just once.

“That’s a lot,” he said. “You seem like someone who keeps going anyway.”

I looked up at him.

“You’re not wrong.”

He offered the smallest smile. Then took a slow sip of bourbon.

And for a moment, neither of us said anything.

But the room said enough.

Connor looked down at his drink, swirling it once. Not nervous. Just… thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking about Saturday,” he said, finally. “The lunch. The texts after.”

I shifted slightly on the couch, letting my elbow rest on the back cushion.

“I have too,” I said. “More than I expected to.”

His eyes met mine. “Same.”

A beat passed between us—warm and steady.

“I wasn’t planning on texting you that night,” I said. “It wasn’t calculated. I just… did.”

He smiled, soft at the corners. “I’m glad you did.”

“I thought maybe I was being ridiculous,” I admitted. “Middle-aged woman bothering a man in his twenties on a Saturday night.”

Connor leaned forward a little, glass resting on his knee.

“You weren’t bothering me.”

“I know,” I said. “Now I do. But then… I didn’t know what you’d think.”

He looked at me. Really looked.

“I thought you were bold as hell.”

I laughed once—quiet, surprised.

“And,” he added, “I told you it was the best part of my day. And I meant it.”

I let that sit for a second.

Then: “Well. You made it the best part of mine, too.”

The space between us wasn’t physical anymore. It was measured in something else. In everything that hadn’t been said but now hung in the air between us, humming low and steady.

Neither of us reached for it yet.

But we were closer to it now than ever.

I shifted slightly, tucking one leg beneath me, letting my glass rest against my knee. He was still in the chair across from me, elbow propped up, one hand loose around his drink. The sun was slipping behind the trees now. The room getting dimmer. More honest.

“What about you?” I asked, watching him over the rim of my glass.

His brow lifted slightly. “What about me?”

I smiled. “Work. Life. All I know is you pick up your niece from practice and you wear shorts with very short inseams.”

He laughed, leaning back, a hand brushing the back of his neck.

“I work first shift,” he said. “Nothing glamorous. Just logistics. Warehouse. Enough to keep me moving.”

“And after work?” I asked. “You always playing chauffeur?”

“Most days,” he said. “Mia’s got a pretty full calendar. Her mom works long hours, so I step in when I can.”

I nodded. “She’s lucky.”

“She’s great,” he said, with something soft in his voice. “Smart. Tough. She’s kind of the only person who can boss me around and get away with it.”

“You’re good with her,” I said, more to myself than to him.

He shrugged once. “She makes it easy.”

I paused.

I looked down at my glass, then back at him.

“You’d make a good father someday,” I said.

He looked at me, something flickering behind his eyes.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He didn’t say anything.

And he didn’t look away.

He watched me for a moment after I said he’d make a good father. Not like he didn’t believe it. Just like he was wondering what it meant—that I believed it.

Then he shifted in his chair, glass resting on his thigh again.

“What about you?” he asked. “What do you do?”

“Human resources,” I said. “Associate relations, technically. I manage people. Conflict. Complaints. Occasionally, terminations.”

He winced, just a little. “So you’re the person they send in when it’s going off the rails.”

“Something like that.”

“And… do you like it?”

I took a sip, then set my glass down. “Some days. It pays well. I’m good at it. But no, I’m not one of those people who calls it their passion.”

He nodded.

“What about… since your husband?” he asked, gently. “What’s that part of your life been like?”

I exhaled through my nose. Not with frustration—just the weight of the question.

“Patrick,” I said quietly. “That was his name.”

He nodded once.

“We were together over thirty years. College sweethearts. Got married a year after we graduated. Had our daughter by twenty-five.”

I paused. Picked up my glass again, not to drink—just to hold.

“Since he passed, I’ve been… learning how to be alone. For the first time, really. I lived for Sofia. For Ethan. For my daughter. I got good at filling the days. I stopped pretending I was supposed to remarry.”

Connor didn’t interrupt. He just listened.

“I think sometimes,” I added, “that I’m not sure if I miss him—or just miss someone.”

That sat in the room for a moment.

Heavy. But not hopeless.

“I’ve learned how to live in this space,” I said, more quietly now. “But I’m still learning what it means to want something more.”

Connor’s voice was soft. “That’s a lot to carry.”

I looked at him. “It’s lighter than it used to be.”

And I meant it.

Connor was quiet for a long moment. Not the kind of quiet that fills space with awkwardness—but the kind that gives it room to breathe.

Then he said, gently:

“I think you’ve done more than just learn how to live in that space.”

I looked at him.

“I think you’ve built something solid. And you’re still standing in it. That takes a kind of strength most people never even get close to.”

I didn’t say anything right away. I just let his words settle in the air.

He wasn’t complimenting me. He wasn’t trying to say the right thing.

He just meant it.

“You don’t know me that well,” I said softly.

He gave a small shrug, a half smile.

“No,” he said. “But I’ve been paying attention.”

And just like that, something shifted. Not sudden. Not sharp.

Just the steady slide of closeness.

Real. Undeniable.

Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it with a flick of his thumb.

“I meant to show you this,” he said. “Took it at their last game. Sofia—just before a serve.”

He tapped a few times, then turned the screen toward me.

And just like that, I leaned in.

Our shoulders touched—just barely at first. But then the give of the couch pulled us together, and we didn’t move apart.

On the screen, Sofia was caught mid-motion. Ball in the air. Left arm forward, right cocked behind her. Hair flying. Total focus.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” I said. “Look at her face. That’s the face she makes when she knows she’s going to crush it.”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

“Would you send it to me?”

“Of course.”

He tapped once, shared it to our thread.

And when I turned toward him to say thank you—he was already looking at me.

We were closer than before. Shoulder to shoulder. His knee angled toward mine. The air felt… smaller. And warmer. And charged.

I didn’t smile.

He didn’t speak.

But neither of us looked away.

He didn’t look away.

And neither did I.

His eyes flicked once—down, then back up.

A tell.

Barely a question.

But I didn’t stop him.

His hand shifted, resting gently on the cushion between us, just a few inches from mine. He didn’t move closer.

He waited.

So I leaned in, just a little—enough to meet him halfway. Enough to let him know.

That I wanted this too.

And that was all it took.

He leaned in the rest of the way.

His lips brushed mine, tentative, soft, the barest pressure—like he didn’t want to take more than I gave.

And I gave it.

I tilted my head. Kissed him back. Not out of loneliness.

Not from impulse.

But because it felt good.

His hand moved then, slow, steady—up to my shoulder.

His fingers grazed the fabric of my sleeve.

And I felt it all over me.

The kiss deepened. Still soft. Still slow.

But now there was weight behind it.

And when we finally pulled apart—barely—our foreheads close, breath mingling in that small space between—

I didn’t feel unsure.

I felt… awake.

I pulled back suddenly, breath catching in my throat.

My hand went to my mouth before I even realized I was doing it.

“Oh God,” I whispered. “I—I’m sorry.”

Connor froze, eyes still soft, still close.

“That was…” I started, then stopped. I searched for a word that wouldn’t sound like shame. That wouldn’t hurt him.

“That was a mistake,” I said quietly, but not cruelly. “Not because of you. Just… because I didn’t think it through.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

“Marie—” he started, voice low, steady.

“No, I—” I lowered my hand. Took a breath. “I wanted to. That’s the part that scares me.”

He was quiet. Just looking at me. Not judging. Not retreating.

“I haven’t let anyone that close in years,” I added. “And I didn’t plan to. And I definitely didn’t think it would be you.”

Still, he didn’t move.

Then:

“I don’t think it was a mistake.”

He said it carefully. Not pressing. Just… offering it to me.

And for a moment, we sat there.

The silence stretched—not uncomfortable, but full. Like the air between us was holding its breath, waiting for one of us to name what we were both thinking.

Connor’s voice came first.

“If it’s the age thing,” he said softly, “don’t let that be it.”

I looked at him.

“If it’s that I’m going to fall in love and never leave…” He gave the faintest smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not seventeen.”

He paused, just long enough for the words to land.

“I like you,” he said. “I think you’re beautiful. I thought that the first time I saw you.”

I closed my eyes for half a second, like I could breathe the words in better that way.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he added. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

I didn’t speak.

I just sat there. Letting myself feel it.

And the part of me that had been waiting for something—someone—to sound like that again.

I let out a slow breath. Not dramatic. Just trying to find the words.

“I can’t help it,” I said finally.

His eyes were on me, steady. Open.

“I think about you,” I added, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

I didn’t over explain. I didn’t need to.

“I don’t know what that means yet,” I said. “But it’s there. And I’m… I’m trying to be honest about it.”

His hand hadn’t moved. Neither had mine.

But something in the space between us softened.

Like it was okay to want.

Even if we didn’t know where it was going.

He reached for my hand.

No rush. No pull. Just an open palm, his fingers brushing mine until I gave them back.

I looked down at the place where our hands met. My skin against his. Warm. Certain.

Then I looked up.

He was already watching me.

There was no need to speak.

We leaned in at the same time—slow, steady. This kiss didn’t ask permission. It understood it was allowed.

And it was different than before.

His hands found their way to my waist, then slid up, slow, to the curve of my back. My shoulder. My arm. Every inch like it mattered.

There was a spark in it—not from youth, not from novelty. From the touch of a man who knew what he was doing, and didn’t ask for more than what I gave him.

But what I gave… I meant.

It had been years since I felt that kind of weight behind a touch.

The way he cupped my side. The way his thumb brushed just beneath the edge of my shirt.

It woke something in me I thought I’d buried on purpose.

But now—God help me—I wanted it.

I’d martyred myself enough.

His hands didn’t rush.

They roamed—curious, reverent—like he was relearning something he’d never known.

My breath caught when his fingers grazed the side of my ribcage, just under the hem of my shirt. Not bold. Just intentional.

I felt the heat bloom low in my stomach, a slow ache spreading wider. Not just from arousal. From recognition.

I forgot what this felt like.

To be touched by someone who wanted to know my body.

Not just have it.

I pressed closer. My hand slipped behind his neck.

His lips trailed softly from my mouth to my jaw, to the space beneath my ear, and I felt myself melt—limbs loosening, heart thudding, thighs warm and heavy.

He shifted toward me on the couch, turning slightly so his leg pressed against mine, firm and grounding. His other hand skimmed down my thigh, over the curve of it, and when his palm came to rest there, I exhaled like I’d been holding it in for years.

His mouth came back to mine, deeper this time, and I let myself fall into it—hands at his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice low and rough in my ear. “You don’t even know, do you?”

I didn’t answer.

His hands found the hem of my shirt, but I stopped him. Just long enough to whisper, “Leave it.”

And he did.

Everything else, though—the rest came off in pieces.

My leggings peeled down.

My panties slid over my thighs.

His shirt lifted, dropped unceremoniously onto the floor.

His shorts followed.

He kept his socks on.

And somehow, it didn’t make me laugh.

It made it real.

Our clothes were scattered around the floor—soft cotton, dark fabric in a ring around the space we were about to lose ourselves in.

I leaned back into the cushions, knees parted just enough, and he moved between them—slow, warm, deliberate.

I felt him against me.

Hard. Pressing. Waiting.

Not asking, but offering.

My hand found him, guided him.

He was heavy in my palm, warm and ready, and when he groaned into my neck, I felt it everywhere.

He pushed forward, and I opened—slowly. Fully.

And I gasped, quiet and sharp, as my body remembered exactly how to want.

When he pushed into me, I gasped again—softer this time, like it caught me by surprise.

He filled me slowly, steady, carefully. Like he didn’t want to hurt me. Like he knew he might, and couldn’t bear it.

And God, it had been a long time.

My body stretched around him, welcomed him, a part of me I thought had gone quiet suddenly wide awake—rejoicing, even. A bloom of heat and fullness low in my belly. The sound that escaped me wasn’t a moan. It was something quieter. More raw.

He moved again.

And I felt it—him. All of him. Inside me. Filling me like I hadn’t remembered was possible.

His hips stuttered once. Just a little. A brief misstep.

He caught himself with a breath and a muttered sorry near my shoulder.

I smiled.

Not because it was funny.

But because it was him. Earnest. Young. Eager. Strong.

It wasn’t the experience that made it good.

It was the effort.

The hunger.

The way his body worked to find mine—not perfectly, but like it mattered.

He braced himself above me, one hand on the arm of the couch, the other at my waist. The couch creaked under us, soft and steady, and every time he moved I felt something inside me deepen—something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. My thighs lifted, opened wider, guiding him in, grounding us.

He groaned low in his throat and buried his face against my neck, his rhythm catching and quickening.

I was lost in the weight of him, the warmth, the sound of skin against skin and breath against skin. The feel of being wanted not for a moment of pleasure—but for all the moments that built up to it.

And I didn’t hold back.

I felt it beginning in my belly—a slow tightening heat that coiled deeper with every stroke. It built with purpose, no sudden spark. Just the sure, steady rise of something I hadn’t felt in years.

His body moved against mine, inside me, warm and strong and unrelenting—not rough, not perfect. Just present. And that was enough.

My breath caught.

My legs trembled.

The release came for me like a wave I’d forgotten how to brace for.

It hit all at once.

My brow furrowed, lips parted.

Not a moan. Not a cry.

Just a sharp breath pushed through my teeth as my body shuddered, drawn tight and shaking around him.

I clutched at his back, holding him inside me as I came. Letting it wash through me. Every nerve bright, every inch of me open and alive.

He groaned into my neck, felt it in me, the way I pulsed around him, how I held him there, wouldn’t let go.

I whispered, still breathless, “Are you close?”

His voice was ragged. “Yeah—God—yeah.”

I nodded, eyes still closed. “Come on.”

His hips jerked, rhythm faltering, the last thrusts short, sharp, deeper. And then I felt him—his body stiffening, a heat spilling deep inside me as he buried himself with a rough gasp.

I held him there. One arm around his shoulders. One hand in his hair.

And for a long moment, we didn’t move.

We just breathed.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It just… was.

He stayed there a moment, lying on top of me. Our bodies still tangled, still warm. His breath slowing against my shoulder.

Then he shifted, easing out of me with care, his hand at my hip as if to say thank you without words.

He sat back on the couch—naked now except for his socks, flushed, chest rising and falling.

I touched his knee as I slipped up from the cushions, still bare from the waist down.

“I’ll be right back,” I said softly.

I padded quietly down the hall to the half bath. Shut the door behind me. Sat. Let the rest of him slip out of me slowly, gravity and time doing their work. I reached for tissue. Cleaned gently. Carefully.

Then I looked up.

The mirror caught me by surprise.

My lips were kiss-swollen. My cheeks flushed. My hair half-wild. I didn’t look disheveled. I looked satisfied.

That just-fucked-on-the-couch glow that no one could manufacture.

And something in my chest bloomed again—heat, yes. But pride too. In myself. In this.

I ran warm water. Wet a washcloth. Wringed it out.

And without even thinking to dress, I walked back into the living room, still bare from the waist down, shirt hanging soft over my hips. No pretense.

Connor looked up.

And stilled.

He didn’t grin. Didn’t gawk.

He smiled—softly. Eyes trailing the length of me with something between awe and gratitude.

Like I was something sacred.

Like he’d just been given a gift and wasn’t sure if he deserved it.

I handed him the cloth.

He took it.

Our fingers brushed.

He shifted forward on the couch, feet flat on the floor. Reached down to pick up his shorts, still crumpled by the leg of the coffee table. I pulled my leggings from where they’d landed, stepping into them one foot at a time. No ceremony. Just returning to the world.

He lifted his hips slightly, sliding his shorts back on, the waistband catching on his boxers before settling.

I tugged my shirt straight and sat down beside him again, not close. Just there.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. Just the sound of fabric, the soft shuffle of putting ourselves back together.

Then he glanced over at me.

“I should probably get going.”

I nodded once. “Okay.”

I stood, and he did too, slipping into his shoes without untying them.

I walked him to the door.

When I reached for the handle, he paused. Turned toward me, one hand still on the strap of his shoe.

“I had a good time,” he said, voice low. Sincere. “I’m glad I came.”

I met his eyes. “I’m glad you did too.”

We stood there for another second. Not close enough to kiss. Not far enough to forget.

Then I opened the door.

And he stepped out into the fading light.

His cum dripped out of me, making my thighs sticky, he was supposed to be my mentor, yet he fucked me wildly with reckless abandon. I walked back to my dorm room, my short skirt barely covering anything and heels in hand. The cold air felt good against my skin. Was I supposed to feel bad that we were having an affair? That I was the other woman?

When I finally got back to my dorm room, I looked down at my phone and I saw his text “I hope you got back okay. Please let me know” He put us both at risk. Risk of his wife knowing. Risk of getting us both kicked out. A student teacher relationship isn’t wise, but he has a big cock and I loved being his good girl-a cum slut for him. He was more of a man than any guy on campus, filling me with his seed, fulfilling my needs and desires. I remember the first time we met; he wanted me despite our age gap of twenty years. His muscles were heaven as I slid my hands over them, picking me up like I weighed nothing. Can this be over so I can stop torturing myself?

My roommate perks up from her bed as I enter the room, “Victoria. Where have you been? Are you okay?” she said.

“I think so, just a late night” trying hard to sound tired.

“Must have been, who is the lucky man?” tilting her head to the side.

“I can’t say, it was really just a one-time thing” I lied.

She shrugged and went back to watching her show. I took a shower and fell asleep. I really needed to stop relying on him to fulfill my needs.

****

The next morning, he calls me, "What are you doing this weekend?" he asks

“Nothing, just studying. I know we're supposed to go over my lab work this morning” I was short with him. I think he sensed something was off with me.

“Yeah, just meet me in my office, can we talk?”

The dreaded words I hated to hear 'can we talk?', but he had a family, it would be better if he cut ties between us.

I gathered my things to head out the door, I said goodbye to my roommate and that I would see her tonight. I arrived at his office, afraid to go in, afraid I couldn’t control myself. I turned the knob and there he was, sitting behind his desk. 

“Sit down,” he said.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” I said sitting on the couch he just fucked me on less than twenty-four hours ago. I can still smell him.

“I have a new teaching job, so I will be moving away- Professor Holstrom will be your new mentor”

Professor Holstrom was slightly younger than Daniel, maybe he would use his power over me, the way I liked. I wondered what he smelled like, tasted like, how he fucked.

“Daniel, does it have-”

“No, nothing like that. It’s okay, I'll miss you, but I just wanted to say goodbye Victoria” he said, ‘I’ll miss you’, like he meant it.

I silently moved around his desk to where he sat, he stood up, towering over me. I could feel this was torture for him and...me. My eyes wide as I stared at him my fingers trembled, feeling how close he was, not sure if I could or how I should touch him. A hug would be anticlimactic, but safe. Instead, he crashed his lips to mine; His warm hands caressing my face, moving down exploring the curves of my neck and breasts. 

I think we both felt the rise of guilt and regret, how easy it was to submit to each other. “We shouldn’t be doing this…again” he said, ignoring his own conscience. 

His mouth became eager, as he lifted me to sit on the desk. Hiking up my dress, to expose the pink flesh he loved so much. Dropping to his knees, he began devouring my pussy, the way someone craved cake or ice cream. My breath was heavy, becoming more and more shallow. At night no one was here but during the day I had to be quiet.

I can feel the first warm pulse of cum as I came against his mouth. “You taste so good, "he said, his hot breath against my pussy.

“Fuck me, I need your cock inside me” I said.

He quickly unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock. I wrapped my hand around it, guiding it towards my pussy. He rammed into me in one stroke, stretching me, fucking me hard and relentless. This is where he cums inside me without warning, without letting me completely finish. Was he like this with his wife?

His cum was warm and thick- I couldn’t believe he had it in him to cum again. He wouldn’t stop, using his cum to ease the friction. He ordered me to turn around and bend over, slapping my ass, “I love that you take me so well. I love how you let me fill you” he said.

The air became thick, so thick a knife couldn't cut it.

He entered me again from behind, my hands gripping the edges of his desk “don’t stop-” I quietly cried out. 

“Not anytime soon baby, I want to make you remember me”

Skin slapping against skin filled the silence, my pussy was becoming pleasurably sore. I looked back at him, the determination in his eyes to fill me again, sent my body on fire. I could hear the wet mess between my thighs, as he overfilled me.

"You make me feel young again" he rasped.

I wanted him to clean up his own mess, to lick it off my thighs, to taste the mess we made together. He pulled out of me, his cock glistening in the low light.

I got to my knees cleaning him off, I wish he could taste this, my tongue stroking down his length, encircling his bulbous tip. His cock twitched, “You like that, you like how I look you in the eye with your cock in my mouth” I said, staring up into his blue eyes.

“Yes, baby. I also love when you exposed your sweet pussy to me the first time, I met you” his breathing shallow, "the way you feel is incredible"

“I’m your perfect slut” I smirked.

“My perfect cum slut” he breathed.

He grabbed the back of my head, thrusting his cock into the back of my throat, I gagged. His thrusts were heavy, I could feel his cum drip out of me onto the floor, I began stroking my clit using his seed as lubricant. My body trembled as he came down my throat, hot and thick.

I loved being called his cum slut. Knowing this was Goodbye

The room was quiet except for the sound of my breathing. He was bigger than I had ever had, and my breaths were choppy, my chest heaving, his cock pushing slowly into me. An inch in, then back, half an inch further, then back, another half inch, hold, pause, let me catch my breath.

My heels rested on the backs of his legs, writhing around, my hips bucking under him, my wetness forming a puddle under me as my pussy adjusted to his size. He kissed my cheek, then my lips, then back to my cheek. My fingers dug into his back, holding onto anything, feeling him push in further, further, further.

My friends had all teased me when I agreed to go on a date with him-- "Katie wants a silver fox," "Katie needs a daddy," "Katie loves that age gap." But there was something about his easy energy. The way he had bought my coffee when my card declined that day, then politely listened to my story about how it was a problem with my bank, not my balance. He had offered to buy me dinner, "just in case your bank is still having a glitch." I had declined, and he had given me a fifty dollar bill, "just in case," and left without saying anything more.

When I had run into him again the next day, he had just smiled at me, and again the next day, until finally-

He was all the way in now.

"I think you're in my tummy," I gasped, giggling. I had heard about guts getting rearranged, but I didn't know it could actually feel that way.

He kissed me in the dark, holding himself inside me, letting me catch my breath again. I pulled my knees up, my heels trailing up the backs of his legs, as his hips started to shift backward. I gasped again, feeling him move inside me.

"You like this?" He asked.

I just nodded, grinning.

His lips found mine again as his hips shifted forward again. My finger nails dug into his back.

It really had just been a bank error that day, but the fact that he took care of me and then never asked for anything in return stuck with me. He was tall, handsome, broad-shouldered. Older. He looked younger than his age, but I could feel the difference. His confidence was different than I was used to. Settled, calm, self-assured. His eyes were blue, and his stubble was thick. And his forearms were-

The bed was starting to creak. His thrusts were getting longer now, and my breaths were getting faster, tighter, steady but frantic. He laced his fingers into mine and raised my arms up over my head, pinning them against the pillows behind me.

The red dress I had worn to our date was on the floor next to his bed. Low cut--not that I had much cleavage to show--tight around my waist and hips, flaring out around my legs, falling to mid thigh. I worked hard in the gym, and I knew how to show it off. I hadn't worn a bra, but I had chosen a lacy pair of black panties. And, for the first time in months, I had shaved.

"Easy," I breathed. He chuckled.

"You're okay baby."

His. Fucking. Voice. Low and smooth, raspy with the intensity of the moment.

He was really starting to pick up the pace now. I could hear the headboard knocking against the wall as his weight drove me down into the mattress. He let go of my hands and sat up, one hand moving to my waist, the other to my chest, playing with my small boobs. His dick felt even bigger and deeper from this angle. Almost uncomfortable.

"Easy," I breathed again.

"I've got you"

He leaned back forward a bit. I relaxed and he started to fuck me.

"Ohhhhh" I moaned.

"That's it."

His hands pulled at my waist, pressed my chest into the mattress, caressed my cheek.

"Fuck me," I moaned.

The headboard was banging against the wall now, my breaths turning to whimpers and moans, his hips driving into me, faster and harder.

"You like that?"

I nodded.

"Is that what you needed."

"Yes" I gasped.

I could feel my orgasm starting to build.

"Ohhhhh."

He had found my spot. And my pace. And he kept it there, like a metronome, steady, syncing with my body.

I came.

He laid on top of me again, kissing me. A wave of warmth washed over me.

"I'd like to take my condom off."

"Okay."

He slid out of me and I sat up, pulling his condom off of him.

I wasn't on birth control, and we had talked about this beforehand. In fact, one of his first questions when we had finally gotten to our date was what form of birth control I was using. I had been caught off guard, but it was obviously a prudent question, and it set the tone for the rest of the night. We were going to have sex, and he wanted to finish inside me, and he had communicated all of that without saying anything outright.

I laid back as he took his position again, sliding into me more easily this time. The feeling of his bare skin against my walls, fresh on the heels of my first vaginal orgasm in weeks-- I had needed this. And suddenly I wasn't so worried about the consequences. Suddenly it all just felt so sexy and so good and so right.

"Give me a baby," I teased him, dreamily.

He was starting to move inside me again already.

"As you wish."

His lips were on mine again. I could smell our sex now, smell our saliva mixing, smell his cologne and his sweat and my perfume and my sweat. I could hear our kisses and my breathing and his grunts and my whimpers. I could hear the bed creaking and the headboard against the wall. And I could feel my heart beating in my chest, the warmth of his mouth on mine, my wetness dissolving his body into mine at the place where we were merging. My heels hooked around him, pulling him into me. I came again a few minutes later. And then again a few minutes after that.

"Where do you want me to cum?"

"Wherever you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Just..."

I paused.

Fuck it.

"Just don't warn me."

His pace was picking up now, more frantic, more erratic. I could feel his cock starting to swell. I thought about changing my mind.

"Last chance," he grunted.

My legs tightened around him. I wanted it too bad now. But who could blame me? I was ovulating.

I felt him release inside me.

Sitting on the couch, my best friend's sister standing before me with her breasts completely uncovered, my head about the same height as her pussy, my throat went dry. She unbuttoned her shorts slowly, and when I flicked my eyes up to her face, I saw a vulnerability and desperation in her eyes that reminded me why I was going along with this…

“Are you sure you want to see?” she asked, her thumbs hooked into the waistband, pulling them down slightly.

“Yes,” I said. “I promise.”

Molly nodded, wiggling the fabric down over her hips, revealing smooth, flawless skin. She was completely bare beneath, the soft mound of her shaven pussy now inches from my lips. Her tiny little shorts pooled around her ankles, half covering her pretty feet, each toenail painted a different colour. Cute.

“Wow,” I whispered with reverence, wondering if she could feel my breath on her pussy. “You're…beautiful…”

“Mmm,” she moaned, a mix of pleasure and gratitude. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she bit her lip nervously, pushing her lips closer to my face. They glistened in the light, and I felt the sudden urge to lick them clean. “You really think so?”

Involuntarily, without thinking, I licked my own lips. “Yes.”

I felt the muscles between my legs begin to tighten and throb. I’d never looked at another woman's body like this before—never this intimately, never this hungrily. The gentle fragrance of her skin filled my senses, warm, soft, and intoxicatingly feminine. Without thinking, I found myself leaning forward, placing a gentle, experimental kiss just below her navel.

Molly gasped, her fingers threading gently into my hair, her touch hesitant. I reached up my hands and moved them round her body, gently grabbing her big ass and pressing another kiss lower on her body.

“Sarah,” she breathed, her voice breaking. "That feels so nice…”

I nodded silently, placing another kiss a little lower, just where the mound of her pussy started to rise from the softness of her tummy.

She sighed with pleasure. “Oh my god, Sarah…fuck…”

“Do you like it?” I whispered gently, taking her hips in my hands and pulling her closer, planting another kiss on her, even lower this time, daring myself to push her limits, feeling the apex of her pussy on my bottom lip.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I think I love it…”

I looked up at her again, getting off on her gentle fractions, and from this angle, Molly seemed almost like a goddess—her soft curves accentuated beautifully by the warm, early evening sun. Her heavy breasts hung perfectly, full and inviting, gently rising and falling with her quickening breaths.

“Can I…see you too?” Her eyes were closed in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I said that.”

“Molly…” I stood slowly and took her hands, placing them on the hem of my T-shirt. “Stop apologising. I want this too. I want to help you.”

Molly nodded and lifted my T-shirt slightly, pausing as if waiting for me to stop her. When I didn't, she slowly, carefully lifted it further, the fabric sliding softly over my stomach, my ribs, then finally grazing the sensitive underside of my breasts. A thrilling shiver ran through me as Molly took in a breath, her fingers brushing timidly against my sides as she pulled the shirt free over my head, my breasts bouncing with the recoil of the movement, my sheer black bra exposing how hard my nipples were through the fabric.

“Fuck…” Molly whispered. “Your boobs are incredible. So big and full…”

I didn’t answer her, my pulse racing with anticipation as I watched her own nipples harden in real time, inches from my own. I reached behind my back to unhook my bra, the fabric coming loose as I slid the straps down over my shoulders slowly, until finally my breasts were fully exposed, soft and heavy under Molly's wide-eyed gaze. She froze, lips parted, visibly overwhelmed.

I wondered if her pussy was as wet as mine was.

Without warning, she raised her hands, hesitantly cupping my breasts, her fingers trembling as she gently explored their shape and softness. I moaned under her touch, gasping as her thumbs grazed the edge of my areola.

Molly seemed fascinated by my reaction, her eyes darting between my face and the peaks of my breasts as she experimentally brushed her fingertips over them again, lighter this time, teasing me. Another soft, involuntary gasp escaped me, prompting her to smile shyly, gaining confidence.

She leaned closer, deliberately prolonging my anticipation before softly rolling one nipple between her fingertips, gently tugging, testing how far she could push me, emulating the things she had seen in the porn she watched.

It felt fucking amazing.

My panties were soaked through.

“Please, let me see the rest of you,” Molly begged softly, her hands drifting lower and tugging at the waistband of my leggings, pulling me closer, our breasts meeting in the middle, her lips inches from mine. I wanted to kiss her, but instead I nodded eagerly, and together we stripped away my remaining clothes quickly, leaving me completely naked before her.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Your body…”

“Yours too,” I said, taking her hand softly and sitting down on the couch, pulling her gently with me. Her ass was so fat it seemed to bulge beneath her when she sat, and I again felt myself get wetter. Molly suddenly looked ashamed. Upset, even.

“What's the matter?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, her eyes trained on my knees as if afraid to look up at me. “I just…God…I don’t know how to say this…”

My heart was hammering in my chest, or naked bodies inches away from each other. I reached out and placed my thumb and forefinger underneath her chin, gently lifting her head. When I did so, I saw her eyes were wet with emotion.

“What is it Molly? Is this too much?”

She shook her head, her eyes locked on mine now. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“It’s okay,” I said again, trying to reassure her. “I want to help you. Whatever it is…”

She nodded resolutely, maintaining eye contact, and opened her mouth again. “I just…really want to lick your pussy…”

Two nights ago Morgan, my wonderful husband of thirty years, came in and told me that he had been looking over Tantric sex positions. I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh you have, have you?” 

My tone was intended to be. “Of course you have, you silly man.” Look, we’ve been married a long time, and while we’ve had plenty of wild moments in bed, enough that I thought we had settled into a very nice cadence of passion and contentment.

But my enterprising husband presumably took my bemused response as meaning enthusiastic interest and launched into a quite graphic monologue about Tantric sex. He particularly liked one where I'm on my side, and he's kneeling and kind of entering me from a side angle. He also liked some of the positions described as “acrobatic.”

What started out as amusing was getting hotter and hotter. What can I say? I love my husband. I still think he’s hot. And, well, having sex with him has always been one of my favorite things. So him talking ABOUT sex couldn’t NOT be hot. Know what I mean? 

“Look, I know we’re getting up in years, but we’re in good shape, and you know I'm strong enough. I totally want to try 'Riding The Horse!'” was a comment I found particularly amusing. I was tempted to say, “Hold on, pardnuh,” but I just let him go on. 

“And also, we already have a head start if we want to work through all the Kama Sutra positions. When we did it sitting down, that was basically a variant of The Pivot position. So we could probably just skip that one and move onto something even more interesting.” 

“Wait, so now we’re going to work our way through the Kama Sutra?” I wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, and watching Morgan’s enthusiasm was both cute AND hot, but it did seem a little odd, like earning a badge on the dude achievement list. 

His look was both intense and hesitant, like that moment when you’re dating, and the guy first puts his hand between your legs. THAT look. I kind of melted that here we were in our fifties, and we still had that kind of spark in us.

“Don’t you think it will be amazing?”

I was about to answer him, when he jumped back into his monologue. “Oh, and check this out. You'll love this: 69 with the man on top is a Tantric position! So we could do that like right away. How cool would that be?” We had definitely already done that a few times, one of which was a moment that I STILL used in my fantasies, but I digress and he was on a roll.

I looked up at him over my book. “So, I get to either ride you like a horse or you fuck my mouth?” I’m sorry. I couldn't resist teasing him. The reality was that him completely losing himself as he fucked my mouth was EXACTLY why I still fantasized about that one night.

He kind of pouted. “Well, I don't think that fits in with the Tantric spirit of everything, but I guess you could describe it that way.” I could tell he was a little tentative and didn't know if I was teasing him or dismissing him because I wasn't in the mood. I was tempted to tease him more, but he was so damn cute in his earnest appreciation of Tantric positions and, frankly, I was getting quite turned on, that I just couldn't.

I closed my book and set it down. I gave him a wicked smile. “Okay. I’m ready to be your cowgirl.”

“Now?”

“Do you really want to risk asking me twice?”

He laughed and stood up. “I just didn’t think you’d be that interested.” 

That made me a little sad, but we WERE both older. Maybe this tantric thing WAS a good idea. I decided to let him know that I was actually quite into it. In a playful way, of course. 

“I’ve ridden you enough times. I’m kind of looking forward to finding out what it’s like to be the ride-ee!”

“I’m going to take a quick shower!” His boyish enthusiasm was both cute and really hot. 

I went down and got some wine. I mean, it can still be romantic while he’s riding me and I’m groaning, and the wine kind of sets that mood. It had actually become almost this ritual: We get aroused and decide to have sex and out comes the wine. I was surprised we hadn't combined the two by having me lick wine off his dick or him pouring it and licking it off my tits. 

Holy shit. We were both starting to think like when were twenty-five. Maybe it was due to the kids no longer being in the house. I made a mental note to definitely lick wine of Morgan’s dick at some point. 

So I got the wine, fluffed the pillows, and pulled down the comforter and sheets, slid out of my clothes, and then crawled into bed. I could hear the shower still going, so I closed my eyes and tried to remember what the hell the “Riding The Horse” position was. He had paged through so many photos, that I wasn’t sure. Was it the one where the male partner is holding the woman freely in his hands while he fucks her in various ways. That sounded kind of fun, especially as Morgan would have no trouble lifting me and kind of tossing me around as he penetrated me in various angles. Actually, that sounded like a lot of fun. 

I didn't think it was the one where the man is on his hands and feet looking up, his body basically a table with the arms and legs the table legs. The woman then just basically sits on the man's cock. I liked that one a lot, but that one had the woman facing off to the side. Not much like riding a horse. Anyway, the shower had stopped, and I brought my attention back to Morgan. By now, all this visualizing of various sex positions was having an effect, and I was REALLY looking forward to riding Morgan, whatever the position.

I loved that he always smelled fresh and his body was clean and smooth when he got out of the shower. Just hearing the spray of the water sometimes turned me on. He crawled into bed, and we were on our sides facing each other as we kissed, pressing our bodies together. As we often did, we talked, running our hands over each other while we shared our thoughts. 

We generally discussed romantic things, fantasies, what we like, how we feel, things like that—but not always. Sometimes we talked about traveling or more mundane subjects, while our hands caressed each other and we held our naked bodies together. It wasn’t the foreplay from our twenties or the foreplay you read about in books, but it was definitely foreplay.

So we talked. Every once in a while we would kiss. It may have seemed random, but we always seemed to drop in relevant bits of conversation that became sexual and brought us into the moment. For example, I asked him to describe his favorite photo from the various galleries of positions he looked at. As soon as I asked him, I started to stroke his cock with my hand, which was by now pretty hard. 

“There was this one photo, but it wasn’t in the sex positions part. It was in this gallery of couples having sex.”

I paused and tried to sound shocked, 

“Now Morgan, are you telling me you were looking at porn!”

“Hey, you were the one I caught browsing photos of half naked men on that website, so don’t try to take the high road, missy.” 

I was going to correct him and tell him that I was looking at romance novels, but I was I was kind of curious about the photo he saw that turned him on.

“Okay, you got me there. Now tell me about this photo you liked.”

“Well, it’s probably not what you would think. There was nothing provocative or really all that graphic about it. A woman is on her knees and pulling the underwear down off this guy standing in front of her. His cock is hard and half out of the briefs, straining against the fabric. The woman is looking at it with this look of pure desire. Like all she wants is to touch, see, and suck it. It was such an intense look on her face. I loved that.” I don't know if he did it by design, but I found the mental image incredibly hot, too.

By now Morgan was caressing my tits with his one hand while running his other hand over my hips and stomach and every so often down to my pussy, where he would stroke me. I kept my legs together, but I really wanted to just pull my knees apart, spread my legs wide, and have Morgan just let his hand explore every part of my pussy. 

However, sometimes it’s better when you slow things down, even if you have to delay what you really want. I liked our conversation and how we were slowly building up to sex, so rather than spreading my legs, I continued the conversation. It just felt right. “So tell me about ‘Riding The Horse.’”

“It's hard to explain. I should just show you the picture.” Morgan made to get up and get the picture, but I stopped him. “No, I want to hear you describe it first.”

“Oooh. Okay.” He had this huge grin on his face. As he settled back down, I reached down to stroke his dick while he talked. 

“So…  the man is face up, but not on his back. He lifts his body up using his arms and legs.

“Ah, so cowgirl only you’re lifting your body off the bed?” 

“Not exactly. Instead of straddling my body, you’re also in the same position, and as I enter you you have one leg over my leg or resting on my body.”

“I’m not quite getting it.”

“Like this.” Morgan made both his fingers look like scissors and then intertwined them.”

“OH! I get it. Like lesbian scissoring, only our bodies are off the bed and your dick is inside me.”

“Exactly, but thinking it over, I don’t think either one of us would be able to hold our bodies up long enough.”

He laughed, but I was thinking the exact same thing. We weren’t twenty-five anymore!

“So I was thinking something different.” 

I squeezed his dick. “Go on.”

“How about 69 with me on top? We rarely do that, and it's in the Kama Sutra.” 

“I love that idea!”

He sounded really tentative, and I couldn’t understand it. The more I thought about it the more I wondered why we pretty much never did that position. I loved how he just took lost control and took over.

“Really? The last time we did it, you mentioned that I was a little too rough, and it hurt your throat.” 

I didn’t even remember saying that, and I’m sure I was probably just making a random comment about how rough it was. My mistake was not following that up that him losing control on me like that was a GOOD thing.

I grabbed his face and made sure he was looking me in the eyes. 

“You’re NEVER too rough. I like when you lose control.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Honey, I can’t believe we’ve been married this many years and you don’t know that you’re incapable of hurting me in any way that makes me regret it afterward.”

He still looked confused. I kissed him. “Let me put it this way. The Kama sutra DEMANDS that you bury your face in my pussy while you’re fucking my mouth, and if I’m sore afterward that means you did a good job.” I squeezed his dick again.

By now we had stroked and caressed each other for so long that Morgan was really hard in my hand, and he was easily sliding one and two fingers into my wet pussy. 

He didn’t say anything, but the look of confusion turned into a desperate and primal look of desire. Oh yes. 

He gently pushed me onto my back and pulled myself onto his knees next to me. He leaned over and held my shoulders down with two hands and brought his face down to mine. He kissed me so hard on the lips that it almost hurt—and then he looked him right in the eyes and said, “Remember. You demanded this.” It sounded like the combination of a warning and a promise, which took my heat level to eleven.

“I not only want this, I NEED this.” 

He kissed me softly. “It may get rough,” He then kissed me hard and long on the lips stopping me from answering. “Because,” He kissed him hard again. “My cock,” Another hard kiss. “Will soon.” Another hard kiss. “Be doing.” Another hard kiss. “This.” Another hard kiss. “To your mouth.” Another hard kiss. He pulled up, and I hope he saw the pure lust in my eyes. I never realized he was so hung up on hurting me. By pushing that aside, I had unleashed some kind of beast. God, I was so hot I felt like I was 20. 

“Now, I'm only going to ask one more time.” I couldn’t even speak as I soaked in the pure desire in his eyes. “Are you ready for me to fuck your mouth?” I  was so wired I couldn’t even talk. I just nodded.

“Say it.”

“Fuck, honey. Do it. Do. It. Now.” 

He pulled the covers all the way down off the bed. I lay in the center, naked and exposed. His cock was so hard it was practically pointing straight up. He desire made me even more hot. I reached down to touch myself, and I was completely wet. 

As much as I loved Morgan going down on me, and I ADORED his tongue getting me off, I was focused on something else—him losing control in my mouth. I was pretty sure it would hurt, but I didn’t care. I wanted to FEEL him completely lost in desire. 

He crawled on hands and knees up to my shoulders and slid his knee over my head. I caressed his thighs with my hands as I spread my legs a bit more. He lowered himself onto his elbows, leaned down and gave my pussy a kiss. 

“Fuck, you are so wet.” I felt him lick my pussy up and down, hungrily taking in all my juices. God it was so hot, especially as his hard dick was inches above my face. 

It was my turn to pleasure him. I grabbed his ass and pulled his dick down. I reached around and guided it to my mouth. He was moving very slowly, so I kissed and licked his head before they slid between my lips. 

God I loved his dick. It was so hard. I had sucked it countless times and I never got tired of it. He was barely moving his body and was clearly focused on my pussy, and it was tough for me to concentrate because it felt so fucking good, but I wanted Morgan to lose control. I NEEDED him to. 

 I put both my hands on his ass, and pulled hard. His dick pressed deep into my mouth. 

“Oh fuck.”

He stopped licking me, which made me smile. I got his attention. I grabbed his hips and pushed his body up and down, his dick sliding in and out of my mouth. 

He still wasn’t moving, so I pushed up and his dick slid out of my mouth. “Your dick feels SO good, but it would feel so much better if you were really letting go and fucking me like you promised.” 

It was like a light went off. I wrapped my lips around his cock just as he shoved his hips down on my face. His dick slid toward the back of my throat. I didn’t even have time to get used to that when he pulled out and pushed back in. He was going slow, but he was not holding back and thrusted in and out. 

I couldn’t tell him to stop. I didn’t want him to stop. The only way I could communicate was with my hands, and I just pulled him in deeper as he pushed down.

“Oooh. Fuck. Fuck fuck. That feels so good.” 

His moans made me even hotter, and leaned my head further back. 

“Oh fuck, honey, I can’t stop. I NEED to fuck your mouth.”

I squeezed his ass with my hands, and at that moment, he lost control. He went faster and pushed harder. I wasn’t ready for the pure raw power of his thrusting, but he obviously didn’t know or didn’t care and he dick pushed all the way down my throat. I could feel his balls on my chin and then he pulled out again. 

Fuck it was unbelievable. There was no gentle licking. No soft sucking. He was totally out of control and slamming dick in and out of my throat. Everything about it was exquisite. The hardness of his dick deep in my throat while his soft hair brushed my lips, and his balls caressing my chin. 

Then the most amazing thing happened. He started thrusting faster and I could feel his hard as iron cock get even bigger and harder. 

“Oh fuck. I’m going to come.” 

If possible, he went faster and harder. 

“Oh god. Yes. Yes.”

He shoved his dick deep in my mouth and stopped. We had sex countless times in many position and in many places, and this moment immediately was the single most erotic moment of my life. My nose was buried in his pubic hair, while his dick was throbbing in my mouth. I could deeply smell his sex, as his body tensed, and his hot cum shot directly into my throat. I couldn’t breathe but I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep feeling his throbbing dick on my tongue and his hot cum shoot into my throat. 

Soon—too soon—he lifted his hips. His hot dick was above my face, dripping spit and cum on my face. Holy fuck. I was 58 years old and I was sitting there getting off on cum and spit dripping on my face. 

I gasped for breath. My throat was really sore, and my jaw was stiff and hurt a bit. Being sore and stiff were the kind of things I would joke with my girlfriends about as indicative of us all getting old. This, however, was me sore and stiff from getting fucked hard.

God, I felt like I was twenty. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Holy fuck, honey, I’m way more than okay. That was so fucking hot.” 

He didn’t say anything, but a second later I felt his tongue slide from my clit all the way down my pussy. 

“You weren’t kidding. You are so fucking wet.”

He went slow and then fast. He was constantly licking and then sucking lightly my clit. Each one getting me a little hotter and making me quiver. I didn’t believe the sensation at one point when he was thrusting his tongue in and out of my pussy and his chin was rhythmically rubbing against my clit. 

“Oh fuck, don’t stop doing that. That feels do good.” 

I couldn’t stop myself and lifted my hips to grind a bit as he slid his tongue in and out. At this point a drop of cum dripped onto my cheek, and the reminder of Morgan’s orgasm put me over the top.

At that point, he slid two fingers in my pussy and just focused his tongue on my clit.

“Fuck fuck. Yes. Oh my god. Yes. Lick my clit and don’t stop.” 

As Morgan's tongue danced all over my clit, I lifted my head up and took Morgan's cock in my mouth. He was fairly soft, and I just enjoyed the feeling of his post-orgasm dick filling my mouth. The combination was pure pleasure. 

“Ooh yes. I’m so close.” 

I started to thrust up against his tongue so that it rhythmically pressed a bit harder against my clit as he licked. 

“Oooh. Fuck. Yes yes. Yes. Oooh. I’m coming!”

My orgasm hit, and Morgan shoved his tongue down against my clit, how whole body quivered under his. 

I was breathing hard when Morgan slid his leg back over my head and crawled up next to me. He smelled so much of me, and his total immersion in my pleasure was intoxicating. 

“Oh my god, honey, I could feel you coming. I felt your dick throb, and your body tense, and then you came.” I took a deep satisfied breath. “Wow.” 

“Your voice is a little raspy. Did it hurt?” 

I definitely didn’t want to give him any excuse to not do this again, so rather than admit that my throat was really sore and my jaw was already aching, I kissed him.

“I was just thinking that you should go harder and faster next time. So take that as you will.”

“Next time?” 

“Well, we need to get through the rest of your Kama Sutra book first.” 

His smile couldn’t be any wider.

“I have so many ideas.”

“Uh uh, buster.”

Morgan looked confused.

“I get to pick the next position!”

The gym lights were too bright, humming faintly overhead. Someone had already spilled popcorn on the bleachers. I stepped over it and found my usual spot near the top—close enough to see, far enough to avoid conversation. Junior varsity started at five. I glanced at my watch. 4:57.

I exhaled and sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and rested my hands in my lap.

I was here for my granddaughter. That was it.

The workday was still clinging to me. I’d spent the afternoon sorting out some mid-level drama between two department heads and documenting enough to justify a write-up. I hadn’t changed out of my office clothes, but they weren’t much to look at. A soft grey shirt, blue jeans, hair tucked behind my ears. Light makeup. Just enough to feel like myself. Not enough to be noticed.

I wasn’t trying to be.

The bleachers creaked behind me. Someone new sat down a few feet to my left—two rows down. I glanced, out of habit more than anything else.

Young. Maybe late twenties.

He wore shorts—those shorter ones all the boys wore now—and a light blue polo. Tennis shoes. No hat. Hair a little messy. A long body. Lean. Tanned. His legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. Relaxed.

I didn’t look long.

Just a quick read. Probably someone’s older brother. Maybe an uncle. Didn’t matter.

I turned my eyes back to the court.

The girls were warming up. A few parents drifted in. I scanned the sideline, spotted my daughter. She waved, and I nodded.

Then I felt it.

That quiet little thing. The awareness.

He was looking at me.

I didn’t turn my head. I didn’t need to. I knew the weight of it—brief, curious. Not invasive.

I caught myself smoothing the hem of my shirt.

Not for him. Just… for me.

The whistle blew. The girls gathered at the net.

And still—somewhere behind the tension in my shoulders and the noise of the gym—I noticed him.

Not like a woman notices a man.

But I noticed.

The play had barely begun—a quick set from the back row, a scramble, then a whistle. Sharp. Sudden.

The referee held up two fingers.

I frowned. “What happened?” I said aloud, more to myself than anyone around me.

“No double touch on the set,” a voice answered. Low. Steady. A few feet down and to the left.

I turned my head just slightly, but he didn’t look up. Just kept watching the court.

“The setter got her fingertips on it twice—barely. You can see a little bounce between hands.”

I looked back at the court.

“Oh,” I said, nodding. “I’m still learning the rules.”

A girl in a navy jersey rotated in. The teams reset. The game moved on.

I kept my eyes forward, but I smiled just a little to myself. Not for him to see.

It wasn’t flirtation.

Just a voice. Just a response.

But it had been a long time since someone heard me ask a question and simply… answered.

Midway through the second set, the other team sent a spike hard and low across the net. Most girls at this level would’ve flinched. Hesitated.

But not her.

My granddaughter dropped low, arms out, and dug it—clean and fast. The ball popped up perfectly, controlled. The crowd erupted. I clapped loud, three times, before catching myself.

“She’s got great instincts,” the voice said again.

I turned, smiling. “That’s my granddaughter. Number twelve.”

He looked over. Nodded. “Nice. My niece is number nine.”

I glanced down. Number nine. Small, quick on her feet. Confident swing. I’d noticed her earlier.

“She’s been playing since she was eight,” he added.

I smiled again, still watching the court. “This is her first year,” I said. “She begged to join. I wasn’t sure how she’d do.”

“She’s good,” he said simply.

Not polite.

Not exaggerated.

Just honest.

And for a moment, we both watched them like people who shared something.

Then the whistle blew, and the game moved on.

The girls took the third set—barely. A long volley, a final tip over the net, and then it was over. Whistles. Cheers. A few parents stood. I clapped again, more reserved this time. Proud, but contained.

He clapped too.

We stood at nearly the same time.

“Good game,” he said, slinging his keys into his hand.

“Very,” I said. “That last point had me holding my breath.”

He chuckled. “They held it together.”

We both started toward the stairs, the crowd bottlenecking a bit at the bottom. I didn’t say anything else. Neither did he.

He extended his hand, casual but sincere.

“By the way—I’m Connor.”

She took it. Warm grip. No rush to let go.

“Marie.”

He smiled. “Nice to finally have a name to go with the excellent sideline commentary.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard worse.”

“Not denying that.”

Outside, the air was cooler than I expected. Sharp against my skin.

At my car, I glanced back.

He was a few spots down. Already unlocking the driver’s side door of a small, older sedan. Something dark blue. I didn’t know why I noticed that.

“Thursday,” he said, not looking over.

I blinked. “Thursday?”

“Next game,” he said, sliding behind the wheel. “Away game. Still at five.”

I smiled. “I’ll be there.”

He nodded once, and closed the door.

The away gym was older. Dimmer. The bleachers creaked with every movement, too shallow for real comfort. I arrived just before the first whistle and made my way to the middle row. Not my usual spot, but not far.

I wore black today. Slim jeans. A sweater that sat close to my body. Not tight, just… intentional. I told myself it was about comfort.

The game started. Girls shouting, sneakers squeaking. I adjusted my bag beside me and looked up—just in time to see him enter.

Connor.

Same frame. Same calm walk.

But tonight—his hair was neater. Still messy, but shaped. Controlled. A fitted long-sleeve. Navy blue. It looked good on him. Almost deliberate.

He sat two rows down. Not beside me. Not far.

I told myself it was just… something I noticed.

Halfway through the first set, I leaned forward.

“Why does the rotation look different this game?” I asked.

He turned his head, looked up toward me.

“You want the short answer?” he said, smirking.

I raised an eyebrow. “I asked a question.”

He shifted slightly, looked at the court, then back up at me.

“They’re stacking the front row to load the outside hitter. It throws off the rhythm but gives them a stronger attack up close.”

I nodded slowly. “I have no idea what that means.”

Connor laughed—quiet and warm.

“I’ll show you during a timeout.”

And he would.

He didn’t sit beside me.

But he stayed close.

And for the rest of the game, I found myself watching the court less and listening for his voice more.

Midway through the second set, the coach signaled for a timeout. Whistle. Subdued chatter rose from the bleachers. The girls huddled at the bench.

Connor stood.

Just casually—like stretching his legs. But then he turned and climbed two rows, closing the space between us.

“Alright,” he said, sliding into the seat next to mine. “Rotation crash course.”

He pointed toward the court, arm brushing mine as he leaned in—not deliberate, but not avoidable either. I didn’t move.

“You see number nine? Watch how she shifts just after the serve.”

I followed his gesture. His voice was low, but not in a way that tried to be. Just quiet. Meant for me and no one else.

“She’s stacking left so their outside hitter—number seven—can get a cleaner lane. It’s a way to push offense when your middle’s not strong.”

I nodded slowly. I didn’t entirely understand. But I liked the sound of it. Liked hearing him explain it.

His arm was still near mine. Not touching now. But warm. Present.

Another whistle. The girls broke from the huddle.

He stood without saying anything more. Walked back to his seat. No wink. No smirk.

But he’d come to sit beside me.

And I hadn’t moved away.

The game ended with another win—two sets straight this time. Clean. Sharp. The girls huddled mid-court, all smiles and high fives.

Connor and I stood and made our way down the bleachers with the rest of the slow-dripping crowd. At the bottom, he peeled off toward a woman who looked a few years older than him. She had her arms crossed, keys in one hand, the look of someone who did this three nights a week without fail.

He leaned in. Said something. She smiled.

I waited with my daughter near the far side of the gym. The coaches were still talking. The girls gathered around them, half-listening, half-buzzing with energy.

I glanced back once.

Just a glance.

Connor stood tall, hands in his pockets, shifting his weight side to side like he wasn’t sure if he should stay or go. His sister said something and nudged him. He rolled his eyes—smiling.

When the coach finally let them go, the girls scattered like birds.

Connor’s niece ran straight to him.

He dropped into a crouch and held out a hand for a high five. She smacked it with all her strength and wrapped her arms around his neck. He laughed, stood, ruffled her hair. His sister watched like it was routine.

I wasn’t trying to watch.

But I did.

He was good with her.

She loved him. You could see it in the way she leaned into his side. The fun uncle. The easy one. The one who never asked for too much, but showed up anyway.

Then—

“Nana!”

I turned.

My granddaughter beamed up at me, cheeks flushed, ponytail loose, jersey damp with sweat.

“Did you see my kill?”

I smiled. “I absolutely did.”

She grinned, and my daughter wrapped an arm around her, already launching into praise.

But in that moment, even as I looked down at the girl I loved more than anything in the world, I knew something had shifted.

Next time, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sat beside me.

And I wasn’t sure I’d want him to leave.

Tuesday came fast.

I spent the weekend busy enough to keep my thoughts in check—groceries, laundry, calls with my daughter, a few work emails I shouldn’t have answered but did. But somewhere between folding towels and boiling water for tea, I caught myself thinking about him.

Not often. Just… enough. The way he sat beside me. The way he explained the play—quiet, casual, confident. I thought about his laugh, how it caught me off guard.

Once, on Sunday, I stood in the mirror and tugged at the hem of my sweater. It clung to my hips more than I remembered. My hand lingered there longer than it should have. And I hated how easily his name slipped into my head when I looked at myself.

You’re being ridiculous, I told myself.

You’re old enough to be his mother.

He probably hadn’t thought about me at all.

Not beyond the game. Not beyond that night.

Still, when Tuesday came, I left work on time. Maybe even a few minutes early. I picked a different shirt—deep forest green, soft cotton, sleeves pushed up. Not dressy. Not trying.

Just… presentable.

The gym was already half full when I walked in.

I scanned the bleachers before I told myself not to.

And then I saw him.

Two rows down from where I usually sat.

Already there.

Already watching the court.

I walked past him on my way to my seat.

He didn’t look up.

But I felt it—just like before.

And I smiled.

Small.

Just for me.

I spotted his sister before I spotted him.

She was near the lower bleachers, arms crossed tight, already talking to another mom—shaking her head, probably about the lineup. She always struck me as someone with opinions. Not cruel, but sharp-edged. I’d heard her during the last game. Her niece missed a serve and she muttered something under her breath—something like, “you’ve got to be better than that.”

It wasn’t malicious.

But it was a lot.

Tonight, Connor wasn’t sitting beside her.

He was alone, halfway up the side bleachers. A little distance between them.

I noticed that.

I walked up slowly. Sat a row behind, a little off to the side. I didn’t say anything at first.

The girls ran onto the court. My granddaughter waved, quick and small. I smiled.

Then I heard her—Connor’s sister.

“Don’t drop your shoulder like last time,” she called out.

He didn’t flinch, but I saw his jaw move—just slightly.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees.

“She’s a little intense,” I said, quietly. “Your sister.”

He looked back at me, just barely. A soft smirk.

“She doesn’t mean it. She’s just… invested.”

I nodded. “I used to be the same way.”

That surprised him. I could see it in his eyes.

“My daughter played softball,” I said. “I was always in her ear. Always correcting. Pushing. I thought I was helping.”

“Was she any good?”

I smiled. “She was great. But I made it harder than it needed to be.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re not like that with your granddaughter.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve learned to just… cheer.”

We were quiet a moment.

He looked back at me again.

And this time, he stayed there just a little longer.

We watched in silence for a while.

Cheering when it felt right. Groaning with the crowd when a ball hit the net. It was easy, sitting beside him. Comfortable in a way I hadn’t expected. We weren’t talking, but we weren’t quiet, either. Just… in rhythm with the game.

The game ended in another win. Quick handshakes, louder clapping, whistles and buzzers and sneakers scattering across the court.

There was no rush to leave.

Parents filtered out, rounding up their girls, checking phones, corralling small siblings. But Connor and I stood where we were, just off to the side of the exit. Watching. Waiting.

Neither of us had anyone to collect.

“I think that’s three in a row,” I said.

He nodded. “They’re getting better.”

We started walking without really saying so. Out through the gym doors and into the cool night. The parking lot was scattered with parents digging for keys and calling out goodbyes.

Connor fell into step beside me.

Not close enough to brush arms.

But not far.

I didn’t ask where his car was.

He didn’t ask if I needed company.

We just… walked.

“It’s funny,” I said, keeping my eyes forward. “I spent years rushing through these kinds of nights. Softball, cross-country, science fairs. Always thinking about what needed to be done afterward. Dinner. Homework. Dishes.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Then—

“And now?”

“Now I hope the games run long.”

He smiled. “I get that.”

We reached my car.

He slowed, but didn’t stop.

“This you?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He looked at it, then back at me. “Nice.”

We stood there for a second. No keys in my hand. No goodbye on my lips.

He pointed with his chin toward the back of the lot. “I’m over that way.”

“Right,” I said, too quickly. “Of course.”

It made sense. It was on the way.

Just coincidence.

I smiled. “Well… goodnight.”

He gave me a quiet nod. “Night.”

And then he walked.

I watched him go for two full steps before I reached for my door handle.

And I didn’t start the car until he was out of sight.

Saturday morning. The gym was different—newer, quieter, tucked behind a rec center I didn’t even know existed. A clinic for new and experienced players.

I wouldn’t have come if my daughter hadn’t asked.

“Please, Mom,” she said, “I’d go, but Ethan’s got a game and I’m the snack mom. She really wants to go.”

I’d said yes. Of course I did.

And now here I was—coffee in hand, sitting in a hard plastic chair pulled up along the baseline while fifteen sixth-grade girls went through passing drills under the sharp voice of a club coach.

I hadn’t been there five minutes when I saw him.

Connor.

He walked in with his niece trailing behind him, carrying her water bottle like it was too heavy. He gave her a nudge toward the court and scanned the room.

He saw me.

We both raised our hands slightly—half-wave. Half-surprised.

He crossed the gym toward me without hurrying.

“Hey,” he said, settling into the chair beside mine. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same,” I said. “I’m filling in for my daughter. She’s at baseball.”

He nodded. “I’m here because I’m a sucker.”

I smiled. “I could’ve told you that.”

For a moment, we just watched.

The girls moved from drills to sprints. The coach barked out corrections. A parent behind us coughed and started scrolling through their phone.

He leaned back in his chair. Arms loose over his thighs. Comfortable. At ease.

“I don’t mind this,” he said. “It’s nice. Quiet.”

I glanced sideways. “You like quiet?”

He nodded once. “More than I used to.”

I understood that.

We didn’t say anything else for a long stretch. Just sat there, side by side, watching girls do footwork drills and stumble through serve receive.

But I was aware of him.

And when he bumped my elbow with his, just lightly, to make a joke about how his niece looked like she might throw up during suicides—I laughed.

Not politely.

But because I wanted to.

After the clinic, we walked out into the bright Saturday sun.

Sofia bounced at my side, chattering about how hard the drills were, how mean—but funny—the coach was. I kept nodding, listening, proud of her for caring this much.

Connor carried his niece’s water bottle in one hand, phone in the other. We paused near the cars.

“Thanks for the company,” he said.

I smiled. “Of course.”

Sofia waved to Mia, and I gave a small nod toward Connor. We turned toward our car, and they toward theirs. That was it.

Goodbye.

Twenty minutes later, we stepped into an American-style diner—leather booths, old black-and-white photos on the walls, the kind of place where they serve breakfast all day.

The hostess gave me a buzzer. Said it’d be ten, maybe fifteen.

Sofia leaned against my side, then tugged on my hand. “Can we go to Ulta after this?”

I was about to say yes when I heard a familiar voice.

Mia’s.

Laughing.

I looked up—and there they were.

Connor and Mia, standing across the small lobby. Waiting.

He met my eyes and gave a short, almost sheepish smile. “Guess we had the same idea.”

I felt my heart trip, just slightly.

“Looks like it,” I said.

Sofia, of course, lit up. “Mia! Can we sit with you?”

She turned to me before anyone else could answer. “Nana, please?”

I was about to say we’d just eat alone. That we didn’t want to intrude.

But the word came out too fast.

”Sure. If you’re ok with it, I mean.”

Connor looked at me. Not surprised. Not caught off guard.

Just… something quieter.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’d be nice.”

And just like that, we weren’t two adults with two kids.

We were a table of four.

Waiting together.

And I was trying not to wonder why that felt so good.

The hostess led us to a booth along the window. One of those corner tables, plenty of room for four.

Mia slid in next to Connor without being told. Sofia followed my lead and took the seat beside me.

Connor sat across from me, his arm resting casually along the back of the booth, fingers brushing the edge of Mia’s shoulder as she pulled out her phone. She didn’t even look at the menu—just scrolled straight to the restaurant’s app like she knew what she wanted. Sofia did the same.

“I’m getting the club sandwich,” Sofia said, barely glancing up. “No tomato.”

Mia nodded in approval. “I’m getting a Caesar wrap. But like, extra chicken.”

I smiled. “Glad you two came hungry.”

They didn’t answer—just giggled at something one of them saw on TikTok.

The girls leaned across each other suddenly, laughing about someone’s hair on the court that morning. Their noise gave me cover, a moment to take him in fully—relaxed posture, sun catching the light stubble on his jaw, long fingers around the glass of Coke he barely touched.

He wasn’t performing.

He wasn’t trying to charm me.

And yet, here we were. Eating lunch. Talking like we did this sort of thing all the time.

I felt Sofia lean into me briefly, and I rested my arm behind her, my eyes still on Connor.

He glanced down at his phone once. Then back at me.

And I realized I hadn’t thought about the age difference in at least fifteen minutes.

Just him.

The plates had been cleared. The girls were off to the bathroom together, giggling as they disappeared around the corner.

Connor and I stayed in the booth, the last sips of our drinks melting down into watered sweetness. The window beside him caught the afternoon sun just right—turning the edges of his hair golden, his skin warmer than usual.

It was quiet. Just for a moment.

I looked at him across the table, and something in me stirred. Not desire, not exactly. More like awareness. Self-consciousness, but not in the insecure way. In the way that says: you’re seeing me. And I’m letting you.

I let out a breath and said, lightly, “We must look like something.”

His brow ticked up. “Hmm?”

I gestured between us, between the abandoned plates and empty glasses. “Sitting here together. Just the two of us. A man your age. A woman my age.” I shrugged, smiling. “If someone we knew walked in, I’m not sure what they’d think.”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“They’d think I have excellent taste in company.”

I blinked. The smile stayed frozen on my face for half a second longer than it should have.

“Disarming,” I said, half-laughing as I reached for my napkin, needing something to do with my hands.

“I’m not trying to be,” he said, his voice softer now. “It’s just the truth.”

My chest felt warmer than it had a moment ago. My skin more aware of itself. I looked at the empty side of the table, then back at him.

“You’re trouble,” I said, quietly.

He smiled. “Only if you want me to be.”

Before I could respond, the girls reappeared—Sofia climbing in beside me like she hadn’t just broken the spell.

And I was grateful. And sorry.

And already wondering what it would feel like to say yes to that kind of trouble.

The four of us walked out of the restaurant together. The girls were still riding the buzz of lunch—laughing, arms brushing, heads ducked close over their phones.

They stopped near the cars, just before splitting off.

“Wait,” Mia said, tugging at Connor’s sleeve. “Can you take a picture of us?”

She and Sofia still wore their school jerseys from the clinic, paired with black shorts and oversized sweatshirts tied around their waists. Their volleyball shoes were long gone—replaced with well-worn slides and white crew socks. Sofia’s hair was up in a high ponytail, frizzy from drills. Mia’s was braided and already falling loose.

Connor pulled out his phone without hesitation. “Alright. Smile.”

The girls leaned in, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders.

He took two. Maybe three.

“Let me see,” Mia said, reaching for the screen. He turned it toward her.

“Oh my god that one’s cute,” Sofia said.

Connor tapped his screen. “I’ll send it to you, kid,” he told Mia.

“Can I—” I started, before catching myself.

He looked over at me.

I hesitated just a second too long. “I’d like to have that one too. If you don’t mind.”

He smiled. “Of course. Want me to text it to you?”

I nodded before I could second-guess it.

He handed me his phone, already open to the new contact screen.

I typed in my name and number. Passed it back.

“Thanks,” I said, watching him send the photo instantly.

“There,” he said. “Now you’ve got me.”

His voice was easy. Like this wasn’t anything. Like I wasn’t already feeling the weight of that sentence.

Now you’ve got me.

Sofia hugged Mia goodbye. We said ours too—polite, warm, unremarkable.

And yet, when I slid into the driver’s seat and saw his text pop up with the image, something fluttered in my chest.

I had the picture.

And I had him.

At least… a little.

The house was quiet. Just the faint hum of the dishwasher and the soft tick of the hallway clock. I’d already changed—loose sweater, leggings, thick socks. I wasn’t tired, but I wasn’t energized either. Just… still.

I sat on the couch with my legs curled under me, a throw blanket resting across my lap. My phone was on the armrest beside me.

I hadn’t touched it in half an hour.

But I hadn’t stopped thinking about it, either.

I picked it up and opened my photos. Scrolled once. There it was.

The picture of the girls, smiling in front of the restaurant. Jerseys, wild hair, that half-grown, full-hearted glow only girls that age can carry.

I wasn’t going to say hey. I wasn’t going to flirt. That wasn’t what this was.

But I could send the picture back. Just a little edit. A soft black-and-white filter. Cropped just right.

I tapped into our brand-new message thread and typed:

Tried my hand at editing. I thought this one turned out sweet.

Then attached the photo.

My thumb hovered over Send for one breath.

Then another.

And then I hit it.

I knew I’d be checking my phone every five minutes until I saw his name again. If I saw his name again.

My phone buzzed almost before I could put it down.

Connor:

That’s a great edit. Way better than the original.

I smiled. Couldn’t help it.

Not flirty. Not heavy.

My thumbs hovered over the screen, the warmth of his message still in mychest.

I hesitated.

Then typed:

Marie:

I hope I’m not bothering you. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do on a Saturday night than texting volleyball moms.

I added a smiley face. Not an emoji. Just the punctuation kind. Gentle. Humble. Easy to dismiss.

I hit send.

Less than a minute passed.

Connor:

You’re not bothering me.

Connor:

I’m home. It’s quiet. No plans tonight.

Then—another beat.

Connor:

This is kind of the best part of my day, actually.

My heart stuttered.

No exclamation points. No winks. No reaching.

Just truth.

And for the first time all night, I felt myself lean into the back of the couch, thumb brushing my lower lip, wondering what would happen if I asked him one more thing.

I stared at his last message.

This is kind of the best part of my day, actually.

My stomach turned. Not from nerves. From recognition.

I typed slowly. Not with calculation, but care.

Marie:

What makes it the best part?

Send.

Not flirty. Not coy.

Just honest.

My phone stayed still for a beat. Two.

Then it buzzed.

Connor:

Just hearing from you. I wasn’t expecting to. But I’m glad I did.

I exhaled.

Pressed the back of my hand to my lips, not quite smiling. Not quite steady.

And for the first time since we met, I felt it settle deep in my chest—

This wasn’t just something.

It was becoming.

I stared at the screen, mouth slightly open.

I hadn’t expected that. Not from him.

Not when I was still convincing myself that he probably saw me like a mother figure, a responsible adult with reading glasses and a list of vitamins.

And yet—he said it. Without blinking. Without blinking digitally, even.

My thumbs hovered. Then lowered.

I set the phone down on my chest, leaned my head back on the couch cushion.

I didn’t need to rush.

Didn’t need to fill the silence.

He’d said something real. And the real thing to do now… was feel it.

I looked up at the ceiling. Closed my eyes. Whispered—

“Shit.”

Then I picked up I phone again. Typed back.

Marie:

I didn’t think I’d be texting you tonight either. But here we are.

Send.

Then I locked the screen and turned it face down.

And let myself feel warm.

The screen lit up again.

Connor:

Here we are indeed. Not a bad place to end the night.

Then another line:

Connor:

Sleep well, Marie.

That was it.

Not “goodnight” in the flirty way.

Not “talk soon” with a winking emoji.

Just that.

Warm.

Measured.

Intimate without a claim.

I smiled.

Not because I wanted more.

Because I knew there could be.

And that was enough.

For now.

Angela had barely dropped her keys before stripping down in her bedroom. It had been a shitty day - that’s all that mattered. Now, naked and hungry for relief, she was flat on her bed, thighs parted wide, two fingers deep between her soaking lips.

She was soaked - warm slickness clung to her fingers, coating them in glistening arousal as she rubbed slow, desperate circles over her swollen clit. Her other hand cupped one heavy breast, rolling the nipple hard between her fingertips. Her moans were soft, breathy, lips parted as she rocked her hips in rhythm. Her pussy was dripping, wetness leaking down over her thighs, pooling beneath her on the sheets.

Across the apartment, a window creaked open.

Blake slipped inside, silent and smooth. He wore a black T-shirt stretched across a thick, muscular chest, veins snaking down his tattooed forearms. His cargo trousers hung low on his hips, hugging the power in his thighs. His boots made no sound as he stepped carefully through the living room, eyes scanning for valuables - money, maybe electronics.

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

He didn’t notice the faint moans, didn’t hear the soft wet sounds of Angela’s fingers between her legs. He moved from room to room, checking shelves and drawers, the glint of silverware catching his eye in the kitchen. It wasn’t until he stepped into the bedroom - fully expecting it to be empty - that his entire body locked up.

Their eyes met.

Angela froze, hand still buried between her thighs, breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath. Blake stopped dead, breath catching hard in his chest. Fuck.

His heart raced. For a second, he expected her to scream, to reach for her phone, to bolt.

But she didn’t.

She just stared at him - her gaze running down his thick arms, the tattoos, the solid bulge in his pants.

And she didn’t cover herself.

She just let her legs fall open a little wider.

Blake blinked. His adrenaline spiked, but not from fear.

From lust.

“You were touching that little pussy hoping someone would catch you, huh?” he said, stepping closer, voice low and dirty. “Bet you wanted a man like me to break in and see you like this.”

Angela bit her lip but didn’t speak. She just kept looking at him like she was starving.

“You filthy little slut,” Blake growled. “Look at you… soaking wet, playing with yourself like a needy whore.”

He climbed onto the bed slowly, his broad frame towering over her. One heavy, veiny hand gripped her knee, spreading her wide. The other hand slid down her thigh, his strong fingers dragging along her skin, heat pouring off him.

“You were fucking hoping for this,” he murmured, leaning in, his breath hot on her neck. “You wanted a stranger’s hands on this dripping little cunt.”

His thick fingers found her clit - slick and swollen - and began to rub in firm, dirty circles. His forearm bulged as he worked her, fingers grinding down, knuckles flexing, his grip rough but precise. He moved with force confident, strong - his muscles working beneath the inked skin of his arms as he fingered her like he owned her.

“You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s what a real grip on your pussy feels like.”

Angela gasped, her hips jerking.

“You like my strong, muscular force against your little clit, don’t you?”

She nodded, moaning loud now as her legs trembled.

“Good. Fucking good. Now cum for me, slut. Make a mess.”

She didn’t hold back - her moan tore from her throat, eyes squeezing shut as she squirted hard, drenching his hand, soaking his wrist. Her whole body shook under the weight of the orgasm.

Blake was rock hard.

He didn’t hesitate.

His shirt came off in one motion, thick muscles glistening in the low light. Boots kicked off, pants dropped. His cock was thick, pulsing, already leaking precum. He slid between her legs, grabbed her hips - and drove in.

Deep.

Angela’s cry was sharp, her pussy stretching around him, wet and tight. Blake groaned, his head dropping forward as he started to move.

The sounds were filthy.

Wet sloshes echoed between their bodies—her pussy dripping and loud, his precum mixing with her arousal, coating his shaft with every thrust. His cock slid in and out of her slick heat, and the sound of it - slick, wet, raw - only made them hungrier.

Their breathing turned heavy and wild. Angela’s moans came fast, choked between gasps as Blake pounded into her. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, sharp and constant.

“You like being fucked by a total stranger?” Blake growled into her ear. “You’re just a slut who needed a hard cock in her tonight, huh?”

“Yes - fuck, yes,” Angela moaned, clawing at his back. “Use me - fuck me harder!”

He thrust deeper, angling just right to grind against her soaked walls. Her nipples dragged across his chest now, rubbing rough against his firm pecs with every motion. The friction sent shocks through her, hard and electric, making her pussy clench even tighter.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” Blake grunted. “A good fucking slut letting me fuck her like this.”

Their bodies moved faster, sweat-slicked and desperate. His hips slapped against hers with raw force. The bed groaned beneath them, their breaths ragged and hot in each other’s ears.

Angela was close again. Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, her voice breaking.

“Cum inside me,” she gasped. “I want it - I want all of it!”

“Yeah?” Blake’s voice was dark and rough. “You want me to flood this tight little cunt?”

“Yes - fuck yes - please!”

Blake gritted his teeth, his whole body tensing. With a final, brutal thrust, he slammed into her, burying every inch as thick, hot cum spilled deep inside her. Her pussy clenched around him, milking every drop.

They stayed locked together - sweaty, panting, still moving just slightly, grinding through the aftershocks.

Blake leaned down, lips at her ear, breath hot and low.

“Next time,” he murmured, “leave the window open again.”

The plush couch in Dr. Ellis’s office felt both familiar and foreign as you settled in, your pulse already quickening, a restless thrum beneath your skin. The lavender scent was sharper today, slicing through the haze of anticipation that clung to you like damp silk.

You’d spent the week haunted by the last session—the hypnotic pull of the buzzers, the electric surge of the vibrator, the fantasies that had spilled from you like a dam shattering.

Part of you wanted to flee, to cling to the safety of routine, but a louder, hungrier part craved the spark you’d rediscovered. You were here, tethered to that hunger, and the weight of it made your skin prickle, your thighs clench involuntarily.

Dr. Ellis greeted you with his usual warmth, notepad in hand, his steady gaze anchoring you to the room.

“Good to see you, Madison. How’s your week been?”

You shifted, fingers twisting the hem of your little black dress, a nervous smile flickering. The fabric felt too tight, hugging your curves, amplifying the heat pooling low in your belly.

“It’s been… different,” you said, voice soft, barely masking the tremor.

“Work’s the same, bills piling up, but I’ve been… feeling more alive, I guess.”

His pen paused, curiosity glinting in his eyes like a spark in the dim.

“Alive? That’s intriguing. Tell me more about that.”

You blushed, the words heavy on your tongue, each one a confession.

“I’ve been… aroused more than usual,” you admitted, heat creeping up your neck, flushing your cheeks.

“Like, out of nowhere. At work, doing dishes, even driving. It’s strange, but… kind of exciting.”

God, I sound like a mess.

“That’s a powerful shift,” he said, nodding, his voice a soothing current.

“It sounds like your body’s responding to what we unlocked last week. Any intimacy with your husband since then?”

You nodded, cheeks burning now, the memory vivid, raw.

“Yeah, we did… last night,” you said, your voice catching as the scene replayed, the fleeting thrill soured by disappointment.

“I was actually excited for it, which hasn’t happened in forever. Or at least, I was already so turned on, it felt like I could… want him.”

“Wanting him is progress,” Dr. Ellis said, leaning forward slightly, his presence steady, grounding.

“How did it go?”

Your shoulders slumped, the excitement curdling.

“It was… awful,” you said, voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Disappointing doesn’t even cover it. It lasted maybe thirty seconds.”

Why is this so humiliating?

His brow furrowed, gentle but probing. “Thirty seconds is even shorter than what you described last week. What happened, do you think?”

You hesitated, eyes fixed on your lap, fingers gripping the dress tighter, the fabric bunching under your nails.

Do I say it?

The silence stretched, his patience coaxing you like a tide pulling at the shore.

“I… don’t know what came over me,” you mumbled, voice barely audible.

“I was on top, cowgirl position, and right after he was inside me, I started… grinding on him, really hard. And I said things I’ve never said before.”

You swallowed, mortified, the words burning your throat.

“I told him I wanted to fuck other men. That I wanted to make him watch them… cum inside me. He came instantly, like I’d flipped a switch.”

Dr. Ellis’s expression remained calm, but his eyes held a flicker of intrigue, a glint that made your pulse spike.

“That’s a bold moment, Madison. How did it feel to say those things out loud?”

You bit your lip, shame warring with honesty, your body still tingling at the memory.

“In the moment? It was… electric. Like I was powerful, letting something wild out. My breasts bounced as I rode him, my thighs trembling, but after, I kept grinding, chasing an orgasm, and… It’s just… I could barely feel him. He’s so small. I just gave up, frustrated.”

I’m stripping myself bare.

“That’s a lot to carry,” he said, his tone kind but direct, slicing through your embarrassment.

“It seems those fantasies are tapping into something deep, something your body’s craving. Are you open to continuing this therapy, diving deeper into that?”

Your heart raced, a drumbeat in your chest, but you nodded, resolute, the hunger outweighing the fear. “Yeah. I want to keep going.”

He smiled, reaching for a thick packet of papers on his desk, the stack looming like a challenge.

“Wonderful. Before we move forward, you’ll need to sign these consent forms. They’re more comprehensive, given the… intensity we’re exploring today.”

You eyed the packet, a nervous laugh bubbling up, your fingers twitching.

“Do I need to read all this? It’s practically a novel.”

He chuckled, sliding it toward you, his voice warm but firm.

“You’re welcome to, but it could take the whole session, maybe longer. That’d push therapy to next week, and I know you’re eager to continue. I assure you, Madison, this method has shown remarkable results. If you trust me, we can start today.”

You hesitated, pen hovering over the first page, your hand trembling slightly.

Trust him?

The memory of last week’s release—shattering, undeniable—tugged at you like a riptide.

“I trust you,” you said, signing quickly, your hand moving on autopilot. As you flipped through, phrases caught your eye—consent for oral sex, vaginal penetration, birth control, liability for pregnancy—flashing like neon warning signs.

You blinked, shaking your head, doubt drowned by the haze of anticipation.

Am I imagining things?

You handed the packet back, your breath shallow.

Dr. Ellis took the forms, his voice softening to that familiar, guiding cadence, like a lullaby for your fraying nerves.

“Ready to begin?”

“Yeah,” you said, your pulse a steady drum in your ears, your body already humming with expectation.

“I’ll step out so you can get ready, same as last time,” he said, rising and heading for the door, his footsteps soft but deliberate.

Alone, the room felt smaller, the lavender scent thicker, wrapping around you like a second skin. You moved with practiced motions, slipping the silicone nipple caps under your bra, their cool touch making you shiver as they settled against your sensitive peaks. Your heart pounded, a wild rhythm, as you lowered your underwear, applied a dab of lube, and inserted the V-shaped vibrator. The internal piece nestled deep, pressing against your inner walls, while the external part hugged your clit snugly, a constant reminder of what was to come.

You pulled your underwear back up, the little black dress concealing everything, and sat, hands folded in your lap, thighs trembling faintly. The devices were silent but undeniable, a promise pulsing beneath your skin.

I’ve crossed a line already.

A soft knock broke your thoughts.

“Ready?” Dr. Ellis’s voice was muffled, steady, a lifeline in the mounting tension.

“Yup,” you called, voice catching, betraying the storm inside you.

He stepped back in, handing you the familiar hand buzzers, their smooth plastic cool in your palms, grounding you.

“We’ll start with these, easing you in, then move to the other devices. One last time—are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the buzzers tightly, their weight an anchor against the tide of nerves.

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice slipping into that hypnotic rhythm, smooth and commanding.

“Let the buzzers guide you. Focus on their rhythm.”

The buzzers hummed to life, left-right, left-right, a steady pulse tingling up your fingers, your hands, your arms. They’re pulling me in. The vibrations were subtle but insistent, like a heartbeat syncing with your own, lulling your mind into a gentle fog. Your shoulders softened, your breaths slowing, each inhale deeper, exhaling tension.

I’m sinking so easily.

The buzzers thrummed, their rhythm hypnotic, making your hands feel heavy, alive with a soft, electric hum that danced up your arms.

“How do you feel right now, Madison?” Dr. Ellis’s voice wove into the vibrations, calm and close, like it was inside your skull.

“Relaxed,” you murmured, voice distant, floating.

“Like I’m… drifting.”

The buzzers pulsed faster, tingling deeper, your fingers buzzing with warmth, as if they were melting into the rhythm. They’re so strong today.

“Good,” he said, the faint scratch of his pen a distant anchor.

“Last week, you responded powerfully to certain fantasies. Let’s revisit those. Which ones lingered with you?”

You exhaled, the trance loosening your tongue, the buzzers urging truth.

“The daddy talk,” you said, soft, almost shy, your lips tingling with the confession.

“It felt… safe. And cuckolding. That was… intense.”

Why is it so easy to say?

The vibrations danced in your palms, a constant hum grounding you in the haze, your body sinking deeper into the couch.

“Safe and intense,” he echoed, voice encouraging, pulling you further.

“Let’s start with daddy talk. Imagine a man telling you to call him Daddy, taking care of you, guiding you. What does that feel like in your body?”

“Warm,” you whispered, an image forming behind closed eyes—a strong, protective figure, voice low, claiming you.

“Like I can let go. Trust him.”

The buzzers pulsed harder, tingling up your wrists, making your hands feel weightless, as if they were floating in warm water.

God it’s pulling me deeper.

“Beautifully said,” Dr. Ellis murmured, his voice a soft thread in the trance.

“Now imagine him praising you, saying you’re a good girl. Where do you feel that praise?”

“In my chest,” you said, voice soft, a flush spreading across your skin, your breasts tingling under the nipple caps.

“It’s… tingly. Makes me feel wanted.”

Your head sank against the backrest, body melting into the couch, the buzzers humming relentlessly, their rhythm hypnotic.

I could stay here forever.

The nipple caps buzzed to life, a sharp, circling tingle around your nipples, catching you off guard.

You gasped, back arching slightly, your breasts jiggling softly under the dress as the sensation prickled through your bra.

“Oh god,” you murmured, pleasure sparking, your nipples hardening instantly, straining against the silicone.

Fuck, it tingles so much. So good.

The buzzers in your hands pulsed in sync, amplifying the nipple caps, a dual rhythm pulling you deeper into trance, your chest heaving with shallow breaths.

“You’re doing so well,” Dr. Ellis said, voice steady, a calm harbor in the storm.

“Tell me how those vibrations feel.”

“Sharp… but good,” you breathed, the nipple caps circling faster, making your breasts feel heavy, aching with awareness.

“Like they’re waking me up.”

Your hands trembled slightly, the buzzers’ hum sinking into your bones, your fingers tingling with electric warmth. Everything’s so alive.

“Perfect,” he said, his pen scratching faintly.

“Last week, you reached an orgasm when we explored cuckolding, and earlier you mentioned speaking about it with your husband during intimacy. Let’s dive into that fantasy. What draws you to the idea of him watching you with someone else?”

You swallowed, the trance stripping away filters, the buzzers and nipple caps urging you forward.

“It’s… the power,” you said, voice low, almost reverent, your lips trembling.

“Knowing he’s watching me… take someone bigger. Someone who can… satisfy me.”

The nipple caps buzzed fiercer, a jolt of pleasure making you shift, your dress rustling, your thighs quivering as arousal pooled between them.

I’m confessing too much.

The buzzers thrummed, hands heavy, tingling, grounding you in the haze.

“That’s a strong image,” Dr. Ellis said, pen scratching again, a faint rhythm in the background.

“When you told your husband you wanted him to watch other men cum inside you, you said he reached an orgasm instantly. Do you think that fantasy aroused him?”

You hesitated, the memory vivid, your body still humming from the devices.

“Maybe,” you said, uncertain, your voice soft.

“He didn’t say anything after, but… he didn’t stop me. He just… let it happen.”

The buzzers pulsed harder, fingers numb with vibration, the nipple caps circling relentlessly, making your chest flush, your nipples throbbing.

Did he want it?

“Let’s explore that,” he said, voice probing gently, coaxing.

“Do you think he might enjoy seeing you pleasured by someone else? Someone… who can satisfy you in a way that he cannot?”

Your breath caught, the question bold, the nipple caps tingling sharper, sending sparks through your breasts.

“I… don’t know,” you said, trembling, your voice barely a whisper.

“But the idea… it’s hot. Like he’d see me… really alive.”

The buzzers hummed, a constant pulse in your hands, syncing with the nipple caps, your body humming with awareness, your pussy clenching faintly around the dormant vibrator.

I’m so open.

“Hot’s a great word,” he said, encouraging, his voice a warm thread.

“Have you ever thought about making that fantasy real? Sometimes, acting on these desires can make your libido explode, set you free.”

The idea hit like a spark, shocking yet thrilling, igniting a fire low in your belly.

Real? Like actually doing it?

“I… maybe,” you admitted, voice shaky, your thighs trembling.

“It’s scary, but… exciting to think about.”

The nipple caps buzzed faster, your breasts aching with pleasure, the buzzers tingling deep into your arms, pulling you further under.

I’m losing myself.

The vibrator inside you surged to life, internal and external pulses crashing like a thunderstorm, a deep throb igniting inside your pussy and against your clit.

You whimpered, hips jerking, a nervous giggle escaping as pleasure overwhelmed you, your body rocking softly, thighs jiggling with the motion.

“Oh my god” you gasped, legs spreading wide instinctively, the straps of your dress straining as your hips bucked, the deep pulse inside you like a heartbeat, the external piece grinding against your swollen clit.

Fuck this is amazing.

The buzzers hummed in your hands, the nipple caps circling fiercely, and the vibrator’s dual assault made your whole body sing, your breasts bouncing faintly with each shudder.

Fuck I’m sinking really deep. I’m drowning in it.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Dr. Ellis said, voice calm against the chaos, steadying you.

“Describe those sensations, Madison. What’s happening in your body?”

“It’s… electric,” you gasped, voice trembling, your hips rolling against the vibrator’s relentless rhythm.

“The buzzers—they’re making my hands feel… heavy, tingly, like they’re not mine. The nipple things… they’re sharp, like sparks on my chest, making my breasts feel so full. And the vibrator…”

You moaned softly, hips shifting, your thighs quivering, slickness pooling beneath you.

“It’s so deep, so strong. I feel… full, stretched.”

I’m falling apart.

“Beautiful,” he said, voice encouraging, pulling you deeper.

“What do you want to feel right now?”

“I… I want to be a slut,” you blurted, trance shredding inhibitions, the word raw with desperation, your body trembling with need.

Did I really say that?

The vibrator throbbed harder, nipple caps tightening, buzzers numbing your hands, pleasure consuming you, your pussy clenching around the pulsing device.

Dr. Ellis chuckled softly, warm but commanding. “Nothing’s stopping you from embracing that. If you want to be a slut, just be one. Say it again.”

“I want to be a slut,” you repeated, voice thick with need, arousal spiking higher, your hips rocking, thighs jiggling as the vibrator pulsed.

I want to be a slut.

The buzzers pulsed relentlessly, hands trembling, the nipple caps making your breasts throb, the vibrator rolling in waves inside you, your clit swollen and aching.

“Would you like a cock in your mouth right now?” he asked, voice low, deliberate, cutting through the haze like a blade.

“Yes,” you gasped, desperate, the fantasy vivid, your lips tingling with anticipation.

“I want to suck cock so bad, Daddy.”

God, I need it so bad.

The devices surged, amplifying every word, every pulse, your body trembling with want.

You heard movement—his chair creaking, footsteps soft but deliberate, approaching, each sound amplifying the tension.

He’s coming closer.

“Tell me what you love about sucking cock,” he said, voice nearer, almost above you, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

“Be specific.”

“It’s… the power,” you said, trance blurring reality, the buzzers tingling fiercely in your hands, your lips parted, slick with anticipation.

“Feeling him want me, knowing I’m making him lose control. Taking him deep, tasting his precum, the weight of him on my tongue.”

Your lips tingled, the nipple caps circling faster, your pussy clenching around the vibrator’s steady throb, slickness dripping down your thighs.

I’m so ready.

“What about deepthroating?” he asked, closer still, his voice a commanding growl.

“Do you like feeling a cock hit the back of your throat?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, trembling, the image overwhelming, your throat tightening with need.

“Love it… feeling stretched, owned, the drool spilling down my chin.”

The buzzers hummed, hands heavy, the nipple caps sparking pleasure, the vibrator pulsing deeper, making you squirm, your body rocking, breasts jiggling with each shudder.

The couch shifted, his weight settling over you, knees bracketing your hips, his presence overwhelming. Your breath hitched, arousal drowning nerves, your body trembling beneath him.

Is this real?

“Keep your eyes closed,” he said sternly, voice firm but calm, anchoring you.

“Stay in the trance, Madison.”

You obeyed, eyes shut tight, the devices pulling you deeper despite the flutter of fear, your heart pounding like a drum.

What’s he doing?

The buzzers thrummed, numbing your fingers, the nipple caps circling relentlessly, the vibrator throbbing in waves, keeping you tethered to desire, your pussy aching for more. You heard a zipper, slow and deliberate, the rustle of fabric as his pants dropped over your waist, the sound sending a jolt through you.

Oh my god.

Something warm grazed your lips, teasing back and forth, soft but insistent, the velvety tip of his cock, heavy and thick.

You gasped, instinct kicking in, kissing it, your lips parting to taste the salty precum beading at the tip.

This is happening. And I fucking love it.

Your heart pounded, but the trance held, arousal overwhelming, the buzzers, nipple caps, and vibrator a symphony of need, your body trembling with anticipation.

“Good girl,” Dr. Ellis said, voice low, encouraging, a dark edge to it.

“This is part of the procedure, Madison. The first step to becoming the slut you want to be.”

His hands cupped your head gently, guiding you, his cock sliding into your mouth, slow and deep, stretching your lips, filling you with its girth.

You moaned around him, the vibrator surging, nipple caps tingling, buzzers humming, pleasure cascading, your throat relaxing to take him deeper.

I’m his.

“How does it feel?” he asked, thrusting gently, his voice steady, commanding.

“Being married and having another man’s cock in your mouth?”

You couldn’t speak, only moan, nodding eagerly, the buzzers tingling fiercely in your hands, the nipple caps making your breasts ache, the vibrator throbbing deep, your lips stretched around his thickness, drool spilling down your chin, mixing with his precum, slick and warm.

So fucking good.

He moved deeper, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat, and you relaxed, letting him take control, arousal spiking higher, your body rocking softly, thighs jiggling with each thrust.

“Does it arouse you, sucking Daddy’s hard cock?” he asked, thrusting slowly, deliberately, his cock sliding in and out, the wet sounds filling the room.

Fuck yes Daddy. I love it.

You nodded, desperate, the devices amplifying every sensation, your throat tightening around him, drool dripping onto your chest, your pussy clenching around the vibrator.

“Is Daddy’s cock bigger than your husband’s?”

You nodded fervently, his size undeniable, stretching your mouth perfectly, so much thicker, longer, filling you in ways your husband never could. So much bigger. The buzzers pulsed, hands trembling, nipple caps circling, vibrator rolling, your body alive with need, your lips slick with effort.

“Do you wish your husband could see you right now?” he asked, voice darker, thrusting deeper, his cock hitting your throat, making you gag softly.

“Choking on Daddy’s big cock like a good little slut?”

You moaned louder, nodding, the fantasy consuming you, your body trembling, breasts bouncing faintly with each thrust.

God, yes, let him see.

The nipple caps buzzed fiercer, your breasts throbbing, the vibrator pulsing harder, your pussy clenching around it, buzzers numbing your hands, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Good news, Madison,” he said, thrusting steadily, voice thick with intent, his cock pulsing in your mouth, heavy and hot.

“This session is actually being recorded with multiple cameras. Your homework for next week is to have your husband watch every second of today’s session.”

Your breath caught, shock mingling with arousal, but you could only nod, mouth full, the devices overwhelming, drool and precum dripping down your chin, your body rocking with each thrust.

He’ll see me like this?

The vibrator surged, nipple caps tightening, buzzers humming, pushing you closer to the edge. He thrust deeper, holding himself in your throat, letting you feel his power, his cock twitching, before pulling back, leaving you gasping, lips swollen, slick with effort.

“Such a good girl,” he said, stepping off the couch, voice steady, composed.

“Last week, bondage excited you. Let’s explore that.”

You heard him move behind you, felt him grab a strap anchored to the floor, the sound of Velcro sharp in the quiet.

“Raise your arms,” he said, guiding them up and back over behind the couch, his touch firm but careful.

Velcro cuffs clicked around your wrists, the strap pulling taut, binding you tight, your chest lifting, breasts straining against the dress, exposed and vulnerable.

Holy fucking shit.

The buzzers hummed in your bound hands, nipple caps circling fiercely, vibrator throbbing softly, keeping you tethered to desire, your body trembling with anticipation.

He returned to the couch, climbing over you again, his cock teasing your lips once more, the tip brushing against your swollen mouth, slick with precum.

“Open for Daddy,” he said, voice commanding, a dark edge that made you shiver.

You obeyed, taking him deep, moaning as he thrust harder, rougher, hitting your throat, the wet sounds louder, more desperate.

I’m his slut.

The buzzers pulsed fiercely, hands numb, nipple caps sparking pleasure, vibrator rolling gently, building tension, your body rocking, thighs jiggling, drool spilling down your chin, your throat stretched around his girth.

“Love Daddy’s cock in your throat?” he asked, voice gruff, his thrusts growing more forceful, each one making your body shudder, your breasts bouncing heavily under the dress.

You nodded, gagging softly, arousal spiking, your throat tightening around him, the sensation overwhelming, his cock pulsing, hot and heavy.

Yes, Daddy.

He thrust deeper, holding longer, making you feel owned, the devices amplifying every pulse, every tingle, your body trembling, slickness dripping between your thighs.

“Who’s better, Madison?” he asked, pulling back slightly, letting you catch your breath, his cock glistening with your saliva.

“Daddy’s big cock or your husband’s little one?”

“Daddy,” you gasped, voice raw, trance spilling truth, your lips swollen, tingling.

“So much better.” The nipple caps buzzed harder, breasts aching, vibrator throbbing, buzzers tingling, your body trembling, your pussy aching for more.

He fucked your mouth relentlessly, your arms bound, each thrust rougher, deeper, your moans muffled, the buzzers, nipple caps, and vibrator a constant hum of pleasure, your body rocking, thighs jiggling, drool and precum dripping onto your chest, your throat stretched and owned.

“Wish your husband could see you choke on Daddy’s cock?” he growled, his voice dark, commanding.

“Yes, Daddy,” you mumbled around him, desperate, nodding, your body trembling with need.

Finally, he pulled out, leaving you panting, lips swollen, your breath ragged, your body trembling with unspent desire. He stepped down, hands tugging your underwear off beneath your dress, the fabric sliding down your thighs, cool air hitting your slick, exposed pussy.

One leg at a time, he lifted them, attaching each ankle to straps behind the couch, pulling them straight up in the air, spreading you wide, feet in the air, pussy open and vulnerable, the vibrator still pulsing inside as your ass hangs off the edge of the couch.

I’m so open for him. I’m ready for him. I need it.

The buzzers hummed in your bound hands, nipple caps circling fiercely, vibrator throbbing harder, making you squirm, your hips rocking, thighs jiggling, slickness dripping down the front of the couch.

He stood before you, his cock teasing your entrance, brushing against the vibrator’s external piece, not entering yet, the sensation maddening, your pussy clenching around the pulsing device. Your arms, bound tightly and stretched high over the backside of the couch, arched your chest upward, leaving you helplessly exposed and trembling with anticipation.

“Tell me what you want, Madison,” he said, voice low, commanding, his tip grazing you, slow and deliberate, driving you wild.

“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered, hips straining against the straps, desperate, your body trembling, breasts bouncing faintly. Your ankles, secured high in the air by taut straps, kept your legs spread wide, your slick pussy fully open and vulnerable to his gaze and touch.

“Fuck me. I need it.” The devices surged, buzzers numbing, nipple caps sparking, vibrator throbbing, pushing you to the brink, your pussy aching, slick and ready.

I need his cock in me. Now.

“Not yet,” he teased, rubbing his cock against your clit, slow and deliberate, the sensation like fire, making you writhe, your thighs quivering, your body rocking. The cuffs bit into your wrists, intensifying your helplessness as your body submitted to the restraints.

“Tell me why you need Daddy’s cock.”

“It’s… big,” you gasped, trembling, your voice breaking, your pussy clenching around the vibrator.

“Fills me like my husband can’t. I need to be yours, Daddy, please!”

I’m losing it.

The vibrator pulsed, nipple caps circling, buzzers humming, your body screaming for release, your orgasm building, a tight coil deep in your core.

“Such a desperate little hypno slut,” he said, smirking, teasing you longer, his cock barely pressing against your entrance, making you writhe, your hips bucking against the straps, your body trembling, slickness dripping. Your ankles, strapped high and spread wide, quivered in their bindings, your legs trembling as they remained forcibly splayed, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“Beg like you mean it.”

“Please, Daddy!” you cried, voice breaking, hips bucking wildly, your thighs jiggling, your breasts bouncing heavily.

“Fuck me hard, make me yours, I need it!”

The devices overwhelmed, buzzers tingling, nipple caps aching, vibrator throbbing deep, your pussy clenching, your orgasm teetering on the edge, so close, so desperate.

He leaned closer, his voice a low growl. “Do you want to cum, Madison? Is Daddy’s little slut ready to explode?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!” you sobbed, your body trembling, the coil in your core tightening, your pussy clenching around the vibrator, your clit throbbing under its relentless pulse, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your bound position amplifying your desperate, pleading cries.

“Please let me cum, I’m begging you!”

“Not yet,” he said, his voice firm, commanding, his cock still teasing your entrance, brushing against your swollen clit, driving you wild.

“You cum when Daddy says, not before. Daddy hasn’t even fucked you yet.”

You whimpered, your body shaking, the pleasure unbearable, your orgasm building higher, tighter, your thighs quivering, your breasts bouncing with each shudder, slickness dripping down your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I can’t hold it!” you cried, voice desperate, your pussy clenching, the vibrator’s pulses overwhelming, the nipple caps sparking fire, the buzzers numbing your hands.

“Hold it,” he growled, his cock pressing harder against your entrance, stretching you slightly but not entering, teasing you to the brink.

“Be a good slut for Daddy. Beg again.”

“Please, Daddy, please!” you screamed, tears pricking your eyes, your body trembling, the coil in your core so tight it felt like it would snap, your pussy aching from the intense vibrations, your clit throbbing from forced stimulation, your thighs jiggling with each desperate buck of your hips

“I need to cum, I’m going to explode, please let me!”

He thrust in, slow at first, his thick cock stretching you around the vibrator, the dual sensation shattering, filling you completely, the head of his cock brushing your deepest walls.

You moaned, loud and raw, the buzzers numbing your hands, nipple caps sparking, vibrator pulsing, your body rocking, thighs jiggling, breasts bouncing heavily.

“Good girl,” he growled, fucking you steadily, each thrust deeper, claiming you, his cock sliding in and out, slick with your arousal, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Love being tied up and taking big cock, don’t you? Being Daddy’s little fucktoy?”

“Yes, Daddy!” you gasped, hips meeting him, pleasure building higher, your orgasm teetering, so close, your pussy clenching around his thickness, the vibrator amplifying every thrust, your body bound, intensifying your submission as he claimed you fully.

“So much better than his.”

He fucked you harder, deeper, the restraints holding you open, his pace quickening, his cock slamming into you, making your body rock helplessly, your thighs jiggling, your breasts bouncing wildly, the pleasure overwhelming, your orgasm building tighter, tighter.

“Tell me about your husband,” he demanded, breathless, his voice a growl.

“Say it, slut.”

“He’s… too little to ever satisfy me,” you moaned, trance spilling truth, your voice raw, your body trembling, slickness dripping.

“Can’t fuck me like Daddy. I need this, need you.”

The nipple caps buzzed fiercely, breasts throbbing, vibrator rolling, buzzers tingling, your body alive, your orgasm so close, your pussy clenching desperately.

“Perfect,” he said, hand wrapping lightly around your throat, intensifying everything, his cock slamming into you, relentless, each thrust making your body shudder, your thighs quivering, your breasts bouncing heavily.

“Remember, this is all on camera, Madison. Daddy’s fucking you raw for your husband to see. Want Daddy to cum in you? Breed his little slut?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!” you begged, voice desperate, your orgasm teetering, your body trembling, slickness dripping, your pussy clenching around his cock, the vibrator pulsing, the nipple caps sparking, the buzzers numbing.

“Cum in me, breed me, make me yours forever!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he commanded, his voice a dark growl, his cock slamming into you, relentless, his hand tightening on your throat.

“Cum hard on Daddy’s cock, slut!” “Cum hard when Daddy stuffs you up!” “Cum now!”

The command shattered you, your orgasm exploding like a supernova, your body convulsing, legs shaking in the straps, hips bucking wildly, your thighs jiggling, your breasts bouncing heavily, your pussy clenching around his cock and the vibrator, waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your arms, stretched over the couch’s back, strained violently against the cuffs as you convulsed, your ankles quivering in their high, spread bindings, your body writhing in its helpless, restrained exposure.

“Oh god, Daddy!” you screamed, voice raw, your body trembling, slickness flooding, your clit throbbing under the vibrator’s relentless pulse.

“I’m cumming, Daddy, fuck!” The buzzers numbed your hands, nipple caps sparked fire, vibrator throbbed deep, each wave stronger, longer, your voice breaking, your body owned by pleasure.

“Cum harder, slut,” he growled, fucking you through it, his cock slamming into you, relentless, each thrust amplifying the waves, your body rocking, thighs quivering, breasts bouncing wildly, your body shuddering in its tightly bound restraints.

“Show your husband how hard you cum for big cock!”

You screamed, the pleasure unbearable, your orgasm stretching, intensifying, your pussy clenching desperately, slickness dripping, your body trembling, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Daddy, I’m cumming so hard!” you sobbed, your voice raw, your body convulsing, the straps holding you open, your thighs jiggling, your breasts bouncing, every nerve alight with fire.

He just kept fucking you through it, relentless, growling, as his abdomen and thighs began to tighten “Here it comes, Madison. Daddy’s breeding you.”

His cock pulsed, a massive load flooding you, hot and thick, filling you completely, his body spasming as he collapsed against you, panting, his cock twitching inside you, each spurt claiming you deeper.

You trembled beneath him, the sensation of his cum overwhelming, warm and heavy, mixing with your slickness, your pussy clenching around him, aftershocks humming, your body filled and owned, the devices still tingling faintly. Your arms, stretched over the couch’s back, ached faintly in their cuffs, your ankles trembling in their high, spread straps, your body humming with the weight of his claim, still bound and surrendered, cum dripping from your pussy down your ass onto the floor.

I’m his.

The straps loosened, devices shutting off, the trance fading slowly, leaving you breathless, trembling. You opened your eyes, disoriented, Dr. Ellis stepping back, composed but flushed, his breath heavy. He carefully released the Velcro cuffs from your wrists, your arms falling limp from their stretched position over the couch’s back, then unfastened the straps at your ankles, your legs lowering shakily from their high, spread bindings, your body trembling with relief and exhaustion.

“Take your time,” he said softly, voice steady, grounding you. “You did incredible, Madison.”

You laughed shakily as you put back on your panties, adjusted your dress. Your hair was a mess, your legs weak, head spinning, your body still humming with aftershocks, your pussy slick with his cum, your thighs trembling.

“That was… beyond,” you said, breathless, your voice raw.

I just fucked my therapist. On camera. For my husband to see.

He nodded, gentle, his eyes warm but professional. “We’re unlocking your true desires. How do you feel?”

“Alive,” you said, still trembling, your body tingling, your pussy aching faintly.

“Like… I’m someone else. Someone free.”

“Freedom’s powerful,” he said, smiling faintly, a knowing edge to it. “We’ll review the footage for next week. Don’t forget your homework—have him watch. I’ll email it to you later this evening.”

You nodded, heart pounding, the reality sinking in, a thrill laced with dread. He’s going to see me like this. As you left, the lavender scent lingered, a reminder of the abyss you’d plunged into, and the intoxicating promise of what came next, your body still humming, claimed and transformed.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single candle, its flame flickering against the walls, casting shadows that danced like lovers in the night. She stood by the window, her silhouette framed by the moonlight, the sheer fabric of her dress clinging to her curves. The air was thick with anticipation, a silent promise of what was to come.

He approached slowly, his footsteps deliberate, each one echoing in the quiet space. His eyes locked onto hers, a smoldering intensity that made her breath catch. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. The touch was light, teasing, but it carried a current that ignited something deep within her.

"Do you want this?" he whispered, his voice low and husky, the words wrapping around her like velvet.

She nodded, her lips parting as she leaned into his touch, her body answering what her voice couldn't. His hand slid down her arm, then to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The heat of his body pressed against hers, and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a counterpoint to her own racing pulse.

The candle flickered as he kissed her, slow and deliberate at first, savoring the taste of her lips. But the restraint didn't last. The kiss deepened, hungry and urgent, as if they were both starving for each other. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. He obliged, pulling it off in one fluid motion, revealing the taut lines of his body.

They moved as one, a choreography of desire, shedding layers until there was nothing left but the raw truth of their need. The bed welcomed them, soft sheets tangling around their limbs as they explored each other. His lips traced a path down her neck, her collarbone, pausing to linger where her breath hitched. Her fingers dug into his back, urging him closer, deeper, as the world outside faded away.

Time lost meaning. There was only the rhythm of their bodies, the whispered gasps, the way her nails left crescent moons on his skin. Every touch was a spark, every movement a flame, building until they were consumed by it. When the release came, it was like a storm breaking—overwhelming, electric, leaving them both trembling in its wake.

They lay there afterward, tangled in each other, the candle burned low. The shadows still danced, but now they were softer, sated. She traced lazy circles on his chest, her lips curving into a smile as he kissed her forehead.

"Stay," she murmured, her voice barely a breath.

"Always," he replied, and the night wrapped them in its embrace.

My wife’s sister and her family were in town visiting for a week, so we decided to spend some time down at the beach.  On one of the days, we chartered a water-taxi and had it take the eight of us (four adults and four kids) to an uninhabited island to do some exploring, beach playing, fossil hunting, etc.  My brother-in-law wanted to sit in a chair and do nothing, so he volunteered to “watch” the kids playing in the water, while my wife, her sister, and I walked down the beach looking for shells and other treasures.  We had been wandering for about an hour and didn’t think we had gone very far, however when my sister-in-law looked at her husband’s location on her phone, she realized that we had walked about two miles.  I suggested that we start heading back so we can be ready for the boat, but Jessica (my wife) wanted to stay and hunt for shark teeth, her new obsession.  She suggested that I go help John pack up, and that maybe we could just have the boat come by and pick her up on our way back, so she didn’t have to hike the two miles back up the beach.  Becky, her sister, wanted to go back too though, so we left Jessica to her hunting and Becky and I started the two-mile trek up the beach to John and the kids.  

We got along pretty well, Becky and I, having known each other for about 15 years.  I found her very attractive; she was taller and skinnier than Jessica, and had smaller boobs, but had a pretty face and decent figure, which she was showing off nicely in a skimpy two-piece bikini.  I was in pretty decent shape for a 40-year-old, having recently lost most of my “dad bod” due to a newfound obsession with pickleball, and felt that I looked pretty good in my trunks as well. We had a little bit of a flirty relationship, although it had never gotten inappropriate, just some playful banter, and maybe a slightly longer finger graze as we’d  hand each other something.  On occasion we had expressed mutual frustration over our respective partners’ lack of intimacy and desire in the bedroom, and I felt like we shared a little bond and were closer than most of the extended family members.

We had walked about a half-mile, and Jessica couldn’t be seen any more, and I commented that we were the only people that could be seen in any direction and how nice and peaceful it was.  She spoke for the first time in a while, “Can I ask you a question Sneberd”? (Everyone called me Sneberd, even though it was my last name, because it was so fun to say).  She said it a little bit reluctantly, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask it or not.

“Shoot”, I replied, my curiosity piqued at her sudden shyness.

“Jessica told me once that you’re a closet exhibitionist, that you love being naked outdoors and are always trying to get her to be naked too, is that true?”  She said the last part really quickly, like she wanted to just get it out.  

It was true, as a matter-of-fact, although I consider myself more of a closet nudist than an exhibitionist; I enjoy being naked in any situation, and as much as possible, whether there are people to see me or not (although I do enjoy being seen nude, so maybe a nudist and an exhibitionist).  However I knew that Jessica telling Becky this was done in frustration or annoyance, as she was not ever keen to get naked with me, and usually got annoyed at me when I suggested that she did.  That being said, Becky’s questioning tone was not judgemental or accusatory, but more curious, and for some reason my cock twitched a little bit in my shorts.  I thought for a while how to answer, and finally said, “yes, that is fairly accurate”, and explained to her my nudist/exhibitionist feelings.

“If I wasn’t here right now, would you be naked?”  She blurted out.

“Absolutely,” I answered without hesitation.  This was exactly the situation where I loved being naked, feeling the sun on my skin – all of it – and I explained such to Becky.  The conversation was certainly intriguing me, and my cock was definitely responding now.  I even thought I saw Beck glance down at my crotch as we walked side-by-side up the beach.  In fact, now that I noticed, I could tell that her nipples were protruded slightly in her bikini top, and wondered if she was getting turned on by the conversation as well.  

There was definite shyness in her voice now, a side of her that I hadn’t often seen.  “I don’t mind, you know, if you want to take off your trunks…I won’t tell Jessica.”  I had often thought about being naked in front of my sister-in-law, but never thought that it might actually happen, and the sudden realization of it caught me off guard.  She took my momentary silence as hesitation and quickly backtracked, saying “nevermind, it was a stupid thought I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Becky,” I said, my voice huskier than I had intended it to be, “are you sure?  You’ve never seen me naked before, and that’s something you can’t unsee.”  She didn’t say anything, just slowly nodded that she was OK with it.  The tension was pretty thick right then, and we had stopped walking and were now looking at each other.  “Also, I’m pretty hard right now, just to warn you.”  By then, however, rational thought and reason had left me,  her too probably, so I reached down to my waistband, pulled the front of my swimsuit over my very hard penis, and slid them down my legs and off.  I was now standing buck naked in front of my sister-in-law Becky, and my 7” penis was standing at full mast, pointing right at her beautiful eyes, which were staring right at it.  I then said words that I never thought I’d say to my sister-in-law, “Becky, my eyes are up here”.

That broke the tension a little bit, and we both started laughing.  “Wow, you’re really naked,” she said, “and bigger than I imagined.”  Which only had the effect of making my cock twitch and, if possible, get even bigger.  “Jessica never told me how nice your penis is.”  She then got embarrassed, “I mean, as far as penises go”, and we both started laughing again.

“You could join me, you know,” I said after a minute.  “Have you ever been naked outside?  It’s truly an amazing feeling.”  The silence that followed was the loudest I’d ever heard.  Neither of us was thinking straight, and I could see the internal battle trying to fight in her mind.  

Finally the lust won over reason, and she simply said, “OK”.  She reached behind her back and untied the strings holding her bikini top and removed it, covering her breasts shyly, but only for a moment.  Then she bravely moved her hands, revealing her beautiful breasts to me for the first time.  They were small, yet gorgeous.  She had tiny nipples that were incredibly erect, atop breasts that were probably B-sized, but looked very firm and incredibly smooth.  At the time, I felt like they could be the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.  Then she undid the strings on her bikini bottoms and removed them.  She again shyly covered her pussy, but only for a moment. I felt that she really wanted me to see her, all of her, like she was seeing me.  She removed her hand, I saw that she was completely shaved, and I could see her pussy lips protruding; they looked moist and I could tell that she was aroused.  She did a half-embarrassed little turn and I got a good look at her delectable ass as well, it was also smooth and firm-looking.

I was amazed at how fantastic she looked, and caught myself simply staring at her.  I told her that she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, which I truly believed.  And then we were in each other's arms.  I couldn’t say which of us initiated it, probably both of us simultaneously, but our lips met in firm embrace, and our bodies melted into one.  Her skin felt like electricity against mine, and I wanted to touch all of her at the same time, with all of me.

Somehow we ended up on the ground, me on my back on the sand, with her on top of me.  My aching hard penis found its way into her welcoming pussy, and she moaned as it slid inside. She felt so tight to me, and she spoke for the first time, “My God, I can feel you pushing against all the sides of me, I’ve never felt so filled, it’s incredible.”  We sat there for a minute, both enjoying the feeling of me being inside of her for the first time, and then she started rocking back and forth.  The motion of her riding against the base of my cock almost caused me to cum right then, but I was able to push down the feeling, as she started going back and forth.  Each time, my cock would almost come out of her, and then she would send it plunging back in.  Her head was back in pure ecstasy, and my hands were alternating between grasping the sides of her hips as she rode me, and fondling her perfect breasts.  She leaned down onto me and we made out, my hands kneading her ass as she rocked back and forth on my cock.  She tasted salty and sweet and delicious and perfect as our tongues entwined.  She finally had to come up for breath, and my mouth found its way to her nipple, which I sucked in, causing another moan to escape her lips.  

I could tell that she was getting close, and I was as well, but I was determined to let her cum first (although my resolve was quickly diminishing).  Luckily, she shuddered and then screamed in an earth-shattering orgasm, and mine followed immediately after.  It was lucky that I had had a vasectomy, because all the powers of earth couldn’t have stopped me from cumming inside her, a relief that felt like the most amazing relief I had ever felt.

She collapsed on top of me, our bodies again entwining, in a mixture of salt and sweat and cum.  Neither of us wanted to move, but we knew that we had to, or our respective spouses would come looking for us.  As much as we wanted to at that time, we both knew that we couldn’t be together, at least not then.  Maybe in the future some day.  Or maybe just on special occasions, like the one we had just enjoyed.

We did figure that we had time for a quick swim though, to wash off the sex.  So we frolicked in the surf for a few quick minutes, still nude, playing and touching, splashing and laughing, until we decided that we had better get dressed and moving, or we were going to end up with another delay that our respective self-controls were not strong enough to avoid.  We held hands as long as we could, until we saw the kids playing in the distance and John, fast asleep, under the shade of the beach umbrella.  One last kiss, and then it was back to business as usual.  At least, when people were watching.

It had become too much. Despite being friends since the start of university, everything had changed now that we lived together. It all started when the four of us moved into a house for our final year, 3 guys (including myself) and Scarlett.

Scarlett had been in a long term relationship which came to a rocky end during the Summer. For whatever reason, this opened up my eyes to new possibilities which I had never considered before during our previous years of friendship. She was roughly 5’ 7, with shoulder cropped blond hair, and curves in all the right places. She wore broad shoulders and a chest supporting perky b-cup breasts. She gave off an aura of confidence, her gait oft highlighting her incredible strong thighs. Their mystery would be hinted at when she wore skirts: the shapely contours could almost make you see a sweet wave rippling up her leg. They melded perfectly with her supple ass, something which over time became irresistible for me to not snatch a glance at when given a chance.

These qualities only became apparent to me now that she had become single, whether the newly founded opportunity to claim her curiosity had piqued my interest, or that when she was in a relationship my mind was closed off of the possibilities out of respect. I myself am 5’ 10, with sandy blond hair and am on the leaner side. From picking up running, combined with a good base of gym work, had revealed muscle definition which I hadn’t previously realised. Making out the subtle rise and fall of my abs, including increased vascularity in my upper body and v-line had definitely increased intrigue from more women at the university in the warmer months when being shirtless was in favour.

Living as a group, the first thing of importance was to claim our spots on the couch. Scarlett took her position next to me, whilst the other guys claimed a separate double sofa. In fairness, this was where our flirtation began. As a house we would make an effort to watch a film almost every night to wind down our days. When the year began to fade into the colder winter months, blankets and body warmth were the forefront of everyone’s minds; the poor insulation and central heating making the rooms freezing (the student experience).

As weeks went by, Scarlett became more comfortable in my presence. Now she was single, we began getting closer as friends, allowing us to understand each other on a deeper level. This also inevitably began delving into flirtatious conversation, and the both of us began testing the waters into sexual topics and physical touch. When the room was cold, she started to lean into my chest, or intoxicatingly resting her legs onto my lap. The warmth of her body against my thigh sending my heart rate racing, building an overwhelming pressure to withstand an erection. The sexual tension between us was palpable. I would find my hands wandering towards the inside of her knee sending a visible jolt of arousal through Scarlett’s body. At times she would grab hold of my forearm, allowing the night to pass feeling the electricity from the touch of each other’s skin.

There remained a problem however. No matter how much we could feel this desire blossom, we both remained unfulfilled as neither of us had the confidence to make a further move. There was a hint of secrecy about the whole thing, as the other guys in the house added another pressure to keep a relationship between their two friends hidden for the time being. I would find myself fantasising upon shutting my bedroom door, wishing that a creak in the hallway was Scarlett making her way to my room. I imagined myself joining her in the shower and exploring her body with my hands, using my weight to press her against the wall, releasing my pent up testosterone to feel the warmth of her pussy wrap around my cock in a wave of animalistic passion. Yet this was all a matter of fantasy.

These bounds seemed unreachable; that I was stuck in a sexual limbo.

Until one night. It was a usual movie night, spent mostly distracted by every movement of her bare flesh that brushed against me. Tonight she wore a large loose t-shirt, which were tucked into pj shorts that clung to every curve of her ass, allowing my imagination to run wild. Every movement she made rippled the fabric, encouraging my mind to wonder about fucking her from behind, as her ass would push back to take me whole. By the way her t-shirt fell, it was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, allowing my eyes to take flirting glances to make out the point of her breasts. I wore a basic shirt and loose pj shorts, taking the dangerous risk of revealing an erection as I went without underwear.

That night the tension between us was insurmountable. It came to the end of the evening and we made our way to the shared bathroom to wind down for bed. As I brushed my teeth she brushed past between me and the sink. She grabbed her things and turned towards me. I could feel her warm breath on my neck with her proximity; her sweet scent filling my nose. She looked as if she were to say something, but turned around towards the mirror and thought better of it. Knowingly, she bent downwards to wash her face, revealing the underside of her toned ass. Refusing to move from her proximity, she pressed up against my crotch. This was the furthest we had pushed the boundaries. The pressure started to rise as my dick became semi erect, nestled between her cheeks. The sensation of the touch separated by only fabric drove me wild. Yet in seconds it was over.

“Good night Cal” she whispered, a hint of blush in her cheeks as she disappeared into the hallway, followed by the closing of her door moments later. I was rooted to the spot, dumbfounded in a moment of inner erotic turmoil.

This moment stuck with me for another month, as our inaction drove me crazy. And then came the next moment in the story.

It was a weekend and as a house we went parading across town in various bars and pubs. We made our way towards ‘The Madonna’, a bar which was always busy turn the end of the evening. From the moment we were inside, it was shoulder to shoulder in the crowd. Scarlett grabbed hold of me to stay close, as I accepted her into my body to protect against the forceful pressing of the crowd. We made our way to the bar to get drinks, the lack of bar staff evident with the backlog of partygoers at the counter. Scarlett found her way to the front, with me close behind. With drunken confidence and the pressure of the crowd behind us, I held onto the top of her thigh with my other hand hovering over her exposed stomach as she stood against the bar.

She turned to look into my eyes, searching into my gaze with a crazed look of hunger I hadn’t seen before. She took my hand on her thigh and pressed it against the front of her jeans, feeling her warmth with my finger tips. She reached back and traced her other hand against my growing shaft. The disguise of the dim lights and crush of people hiding the flirtatious foreplay. Leaning back into me, I lowered my head towards her neck to kiss her, her body responding to the charged touch. The faintest of moans escaped her mouth, as my fingers added to the pressure against her pussy.

“Here are your drinks” the bartender voiced, awaking us from our bliss.

Taking them from the counter, Scarlett turns toward me and muttered clearing her throat ”Let’s go find the others” her sudden change in expression forcing me to bite my tongue, putting the awkwardness to the back of my mind.

As the night continued, our bodies remained close. Changes in music would spark subtle grinding against each other, other times bringing our faces close enough that our lips teased with touching. Until before I knew it, the bar set up to close.

We made it back to the house, Scarlett looking indifferent as if nothing had happened. Making my way to the bathroom, rueing my missed opportunities, I began to prepare for another night of longing. Scarlett entered with another of our housemates, Seb, to brush her teeth. With hope nearly all lost, Seb goes into the hall for a brief moment.

“My room or yours?” I turn as Scarlett whispers into my ear, I feel as she squeezes my cock. I feel myself hardening against her touch, lost for words. “My room it is then”, she said as she turned at left.

Finishing up in the bathroom, avoiding my other housemate’s attention, I made my way towards her room.

I open the door and step into the darkness of her room, closing the door behind me. I see Scarlett’s silhouette traced beneath the folds of her duvet. Taking my shirt off, I force my way under the covers into her awaiting arms. She had changed into her pj clothes from the nights of temptation before, allowing my hands to fully explore her body as we locked lips for the first time.

I reached under her shirt, taking her breast into my hand. Letting my fingers brush over her sensitive nipples, I could see the ecstasy wash over her face. Once again placed her hand against the front of my trousers, feeling my now fully erect cock.

“I want you to fuck me Cal”

“Not yet” I growl, making my way down between her legs, pulling down her shorts to reveal her smooth shaven pussy. Her breath escaped her with anticipation, taking her shirt off to reveal her complete nakedness. Taking in the full beauty of her body laid out before me, something that I had desired for so long, I planted my mouth between her legs. Leaving kisses on her clit, allowing my tongue to explore her warmth I watched as her body bucked with each sensation. She grabbed my hair and pressed my head against her, as I increased my pace. Slipping two fingers inside her, I could feel her wetness, tasting her juices with my mouth. Her breaths began to quicken, as I watched her breasts rise and fall I quickly took them into my grasp. Arching back, she released herself to me, moans of orgasmic pleasure escaping her mouth.

Watching this unfold made me only more horny. I made my way back up her body, using the downtime to take off my trousers. I lined myself on top of her as she opened her legs to take in my body. Pressing my cock up against her pussy awoke a fire in me.

“Fuck me Cal” she moaned, as I teased myself against her.

“Please”

And with that I pushed my cock inside, her tight resistance giving way to her wetness, allowing my full length to be taken in.

“Fuck it feels so deep” she says as I start up my rhythm, her tight lips clinging to my cock, drawing me back for each stroke. I take her lips in with mine as I kiss her, feeling escapes of breath with every thrust. I ran my hands along the length of her leg up to her ribs with delicate touch, allowing her to feel every sensation. With exhilaration, I let loose of my desires, all of the waiting and delaying the inevitable all came to front.

Instinctively, I pulled myself out and flipped her onto her stomach. Positioning myself behind her, I went straight back to fucking her. Feeling noticeably deeper inside her, I could see Scarlett begin to lose control. With the wild look in her eyes she gave me whilst we were at the bar, she pushed herself back onto me with each stroke. The weight of her ass pressing back against me, and the grip on my cock, pushed me to the limit of my pleasure.

“Ride me” I say brusquely, pushing her off me. Subconsciously, she did as she was told. She crept on top of me, using her hand to guide me inside her. She set the pace, as I watch her use me, her small tits bouncing with the tempo. Seeing her complete body, and feeling her grip my cock as she rose and fell, brought me towards my climax.

“I’m about to cum”

She looked me in the eyes and increased the pace. I begin to feel myself lose my control to her, a throbbing pulse in my cock.

“Please” she said.

With that I felt the pressure reach orgasm. I released ropes of cum inside of her, filling her as she sat down on my full length. I continued to pump out the pent up desire I had held onto, draining all my sexual longing.

Taking in the moment, we remained as we were for a beat. In a final kiss, Scarlett rolled off. Her body rested on mine, one leg still straddled over my lap, her exposed pussy leaking with my cum.

Softly she spoke into my ear,

“What took you so long?”

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First ever post so let me know your thoughts. Any advice too I'm all ears :)

College Days: In The Sauna

This is a true-ish story from my freshman year of college in the 80s. Some of the event have been embellished, and the names have been changed to protect our identities. All parties were over 18 at the time of the story.

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The first time I touched another man’s cock was freshman year of college. I went to school in a northern state in the US and all of our dorms had saunas in them. During most hours it was co-ed with swimsuits required, but there were single-sex times when nudity was allowed. My girlfriend Em and I would sometimes go use it together and fool around. We never went beyond breast play, fingering, and hand jobs though, as we didn't want to get caught having full-on sex in there. We did limit our play times to when we knew it was the least busy.

One evening we had planned a game we called "Oops!" I'd go in near the end of the men only time and strip nude. She would come in a bit before the switch to co-ed use and pretend to be surprised to find me alone and naked. Part of the scenario was she'd go from startled and annoyed to turned on, and she'd usually finish me off with a hand job.

On this particular evening, I went into the sauna with about half an hour left before men's time ended. She was to give me 10 minutes to get settled then she'd join me in there. If there was any other men in the sauna when I got there, I'd wait outside for her and we'd try another night.

I went in and thankfully it was empty. I poured some water onto the rocks for a good amount of steam, stripped off my swim trunks and hung them up. I spread my towel out on the top bench in the far corner and sat down. My cock was already semi hard in anticipation of her "surprising" me in a few minutes and the hand job I hoped to receive.

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and idly started stroking myself. The steam in the air, combined with my sweat, made a nice lubricant. I was quickly at full hardness. Keeping my eyes closed I continued playing with my cock. I wanted her surprise at the sight of me jerking off to be somewhat genuine, as so far in our relationship we hadn't watched each other masturbate.

I heard the door open and smiled slightly.

"Nice. OK if I join you?"

My eyes flew open and I dropped my hand quickly. It wasn't my girlfriend at the door, but another guy. I'd seen him around the dorm but didn't know him well. I thought his name was Sean, but I wasn't entirely sure. He was a couple of years older than us and we didn't have any friends in common.

He smiled and continued "Don't stop on my account. I do the same thing when I'm in here alone."

With that, he spread his towel out at the other end of the bench. He was nude under the towel and his penis was semi erect. He poured some more water on the rocks, releasing a large cloud of steam. Sitting down on his towel, he leaned back against the wall and sighed. Closing his eyes he started lightly rubbing one of his nipples with one hand. His other hand grasped his swelling cock and began to slowly stroke it.

I felt like a deer caught in the beams of headlights. I'd never been close to another man while they were pleasuring themself. I'd heard rumors and stories about "circle jerks", or ones of guys who would get together to look at porn mags and jerk off, but had dismissed them as fiction. My reaction to seeing him masturbating surprised me. Maybe it was the fact that I was horny from anticipating my girlfriend, but all I felt was arousal. My cock certainly had no problem with what he was doing, I was intensely aware of it throbbing in time with my racing pulse.

Without pausing his strokes, he opened his eyes and looked over at me. "Like I said, you're welcome to continue. It's more fun with others, trust me." With that, he began stroking his now fully hard cock faster.

I gave into my horniness and started rubbing my cock again. I figured, college is the time to experiment and try new things, why not try masturbating in a sauna with another man? I wasn't attracted to him, not like I was to my girlfriend, but in the moment I was turned on and wanted to see where things would lead.

As I resumed stroking myself I was watching him, comparing our techniques. He mostly concentrated on the ridge of his head, only occasionally using full strokes on his cock. In the dim light it was hard to see exactly, but it felt like he was slightly more endowed than I was. It was incredibly erotic, watching him masturbate while I was doing the same thing.

After a minute or two of this, I saw him pause. Turning to me, he asked “Mind if I move closer?”

I swallowed and nervously shook my head. “No, not at all” I replied.

He stood, grabbed his towel, and walked over to where I was. His cock jutted out from his body, bouncing as he walked. I was mesmerized watching it, and a small part of me wanted to touch it. He spread his towel out next to mine and sat down. Opening his legs he resumed touching himself, teasing the head of his cock with his fingers.

“There, now I can see you better. You do have a great looking dick.”

I’d definitely never had another guy compliment my penis before. “T-thanks, I guess. I like yours as well.”

“Thank you. Want to touch it?”

The question hung in the air between us. I should have anticipated this when he first started jerking himself, but my brain was fogged with lust. Did I want to cross this line? Did I want to acknowledge the growing realization in my mind that yes, I did want to touch his cock, and that maybe I wasn’t as straight as I had thought myself to be.

“Yes…” I whispered in a very small voice.

Sliding over until he was pressing against my side, he hooked his leg over mine. He was warm and slick and sweaty in the heat of the sauna. Reaching a hand down I took hold of him, wrapping my fingers around his member. His cock felt wonderful in my hand, soft and hard at the same time. It felt similar to mine in my hand, similar but different enough that I knew it wasn’t. I loved feeling it in my hand and I knew that I would be wanting to do this again.

As I began to jerk him off, he leaned back and let out a low moan. “Feels so much better when someone else does it.” he whispered. With one hand he began tweaking and pinching one of his nipples again, the other he reached across my lap and took hold of my cock. He began to fondle and caress the head with his fingers.

I had to agree with his statement. His hand on me felt amazing. While my girlfriend gave good hand jobs, he knew exactly what techniques felt the best. I’d been introduced to a pleasure I hadn’t know existed and I knew I’d always want it again.

He was a master at stroking cock. Twice he brought me almost to the point of orgasm, and twice he slowed before I exploded. I did the best I could to replicate what he was doing to me on him, but I knew it wasn’t as good. I hoped it was enough that he’d let me practice on him and get better.

As I was nearing orgasm again I heard his breath grow more ragged. His hips were twitching in time to my strokes. With a final short thrust against my hand, he let out a grunt as his cock erupted, covering his chest and stomach with ropes of cum. His cock throbbed and pulsed in my hand as he emptied his balls all over himself. I felt a thrill at knowing I'd been the one to get him off, that it was my hand that had given him such pleasure. I kept my hand around his softening cock, to prolong the moment.

After a moment he shifted upright again. I was disappointed when he removed his hand from my cock but only for a moment. As I watched, he ran his hand through the sticky cum covering his stomach, then wrapped his hand around my shaft again and began to stroke it once more.

I’d never experienced such pleasure. The slickness of his cum on my cock was the most incredible thing I’d ever felt. I’d never used lube to masturbate with before. Knowing it was his cum he was rubbing all over my cock made it even more erotic.

I leaned back against the wall of the sauna and closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling of his hand on me. I don’t think I lasted more than a dozen of his strokes before I was thrusting against his hand, yearning for release. I felt the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced rip through me as my cock spurted its load all over my neck, chest, and stomach. I collapsed against the bench, spent. He gently released my now limp cock and wiped it on his own, mingling our fluids.

After a moment I heard a voice from the doorway. “Oh my god, that was so hot!”

Standing in the door was my girlfriend Em. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide, her nipples standing hard and erect under her swimsuit. She was holding the door shut with one hand, the other was rubbing her mound through the fabric of her suit. In my haze of lust I had forgotten about our game of “Oops” and must not have heard her open the door. I had no idea how much she had seen.

Sean sat forward the got to his feet. Turning around he grabbed his towel. Looking over at me, he reached out and ran a finger through the cum pooled on my chest. He scooped some onto it, then stuck it in his mouth and swallowed. “Something to remember by” he said as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

I was still sitting stunned as I tried to imagine how I would explain this to Em. I was startled out of my daze when I heard Sean say “Thanks for setting this up” to Em as he passed her on the way out.

As I began wiping myself off with my towel, Em grabbed my trunks and brought them over to me. Handing them to me she sat down on the bench.

“What did he mean, ‘thanks for setting this up’?” I asked, sitting down next to her.

“About a week ago he stopped me in the hallway. He said he’d seen us one of the times we’d played in here, but he wouldn’t tell the RAs if I let him know the next time we planned on playing. He said I couldn’t let you know either. I had no idea what he planned, just that I was to call him when you went down to the sauna.”

So this wasn’t just a chance encounter. “How much did you see?”

“I came in maybe 10 minutes ago. You were already playing with each others cock. It looked like you were both really enjoying it. I kept waiting for you to notice me but you were so focused on what you were doing you never did. I watched you make him cum, and when he got you off.”

I was silent for a bit, then asked the question that was foremost in my mind. “Are you disgusted by this? By me?”

“No, not at all! It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen! I am so turned on that I could fuck you here and now, if you hadn’t already cum.”

My relief must have shown on my face, as she continued.

“It doesn’t bother me at all. I guess there’s a part of you that is attracted to men, or at least their dicks.”

“Good, because I think I’d like to ask Sean if we can do it again sometime. I don’t want to stop seeing you but I want to explore with him also, if he’s willing.”

“I’m fine with that, as long as you either let me know when you and he are together, or you let me watch.”

“Deal. Now let’s head to my room and see if my roommate is out. I think I can recover soon so I can take care of you.”

"Let me see that fat cock"

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She didn't realize I was home yet. I had snuck in unnoticed, dodging the creaky floorboard in the hallway, and was halfway to my room when I saw it—her door was slightly ajar. The low thump of bass resonated through the air, drawing me in like a magnet. I stopped, curiosity getting the best of me, and looked through the small opening.

There she was—my roommate, Emma—standing in her full-length mirror, entranced by the beat of whatever music was streaming through her headphones. She was hardly dressed, only in a black thong hugging her hips and a tank top that lay loosely over one shoulder. Her skin shone under the gentle lighting, and her hips undulated slowly, hypnotically, as though she were dancing to a secret orchestra. One hand followed the line of her stomach, slender fingers tracing over the shape of her waist, and the other slid between her legs.

My feet were frozen in place, and my eyes glued to her every movement. The way she stretched her back, the way she leaned slightly forward, the way her lips opened as her fingers tantalized her—it was entrancing. My heart raced within my chest, and I sensed a burning fire rise in me that I could not comprehend.

Then it happened.

Her gaze flashed up into the mirror, and our eyes locked—

My heart stopped.

For a moment, I expected her to scream, or slam the door, or at least cover herself in embarrassment. But instead, her lips twisted into the smallest smirk. She slowly moved towards me, hips still swaying, and pushed her headphones down to sit around her neck.

"Enjoying the show?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I opened my mouth to try something—an apology, an explanation, something—but nothing happened. My throat was dry, my mind a blank.

Emma didn't give me time to respond. She moved closer, her bare feet making no sound on the floor, and my body stiffened as she took my hand. Her skin was warm, her fingers unyielding as she pressed my hand to her waist.

"You've already seen this much," she breathed, her lips grazing the edge of my ear in a gesture that shot down my spine. "So… come on in and let me complete what I began."

"Say you want this," she whispered, her voice heavy with purpose. "Say you've been thinking about it."

She took the hem of her tank top and pushed it up slightly, never looking away from me. My fingers shook as I complied, hauling the material off her head and throwing it away. She remained standing in only her black thong, her skin radiating under the soft illumination, and I couldn't help but look.

Emma smiled, obviously pleased at the reaction she was having from me. "Your turn," she said, moving to undo the buttons on my shirt.

"Emma," I breathed, my voice hoarse with need. "Are you sure about this?"

She smiled, her fingers gliding down to my waistband. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

And then she went down on her knees, her eyes meeting mine as she pulled my belt. I felt her breath on my skin, heavy and warm as she leaned in closer.

She whispered. "Let's see if you can handle the show."

Sarah’s POV earlier in the morning:

“Why do I love him so much?” I asked myself with a big smile across my face as I tried my hardest not to think of his hard cock slowly pushing in her tight wet pussy while I was heading to work.

Ever since high school, he has been the sweetest and most thoughtful man but with the dirtiest mind ever. Even though he was always vocal about his fantasies, I never really opened up about one of mine until we graduated from university. That’s when we began playing with it in roleplay, but never go for it in real life as he always told me he only wanted me.

That was until I kind of forced him, leaving him naked by our pool with only a horny Alice. His hesitation at first was so cute but after letting her taste his cock while I watched from the window, I fell more in love with him. Those soft lips never tasted as sweet and loving as they are now but they sure become slightly hungrier when Alice is visiting. It's like he wants to show off he loves me more even though he definitely loves getting to fuck Alice.

Just replaying in my mind how his strong hands greedily grabbed onto Alice’s cute plump ass as she rode his cock, makes me so fucking wet. But that look, that look of embarrassment and shyness as she tries her hardest to not get caught staring at my husband when she comes over is even better.

Even as I was driving away, I could feel her grin from ear to ear as she walked into our home. Thinking she is being all slick with the excuse of, “Sarah! I have a date tomorrow and can’t decide what to wear. Can I come over and try on your red dress?”.

She might think I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of my husband “cheating” with her but I know she will jump on him the moment he opens the door for her. Even though she hasn’t been subtle at all in the past week. Those hungry stares take a little longer, enough for me to catch her, her focusing on him the moment she arrives, wearing a more revealing outfit when she comes over, getting into the pool topless and lastly taking his side to cuddle during our last movie night.

“But that’s her, the cute girl with a wild side. No wonder Josh almost fell in love” I chuckled to myself as I drove off

I was running late to work so I was expecting a lot of traffic in my commute but surprisingly the streets were, not empty, but a lot lighter. I usually take me at least thirty minutes to arrive but I was there within ten. As I pulled into the parking, all I could see were my coworkers standing outside while looking at the pest control van. That already didn’t look good but after parking and walking towards them, all I can hear is a mixture of horror and laughter.

“Oh, look who finally decided to join us, sleeping beauty,” my coworker Janice said with a big grin

“Sorry, I got busy with my husband, what is going on?” I asked as they all looked at me

“Well, I am not sure but apparently someone found a rat and then another and another, and then pest control was called.” She said as her eyes glistened with happiness, all because of the potential of getting the day off

“Stop scheming, plus, I am sure the boss will not let us free so easily,” I said as she pouted

“Come on, don’t be a downer, I bet the boss will give us the day off. Since she is also late” she smiled as the boss’s car began to park

“She… she doesn’t look too happy,” I said as we all looked at her as she walked towards us with a big frown.

“Morning boss,” Janice said with a cute voice

“Shut it!” The boss said before she walked into the building.

“Well, isn’t she a ray of sunshine today,” Janice said

“There goes our day off” I laughed

We waited for about fifteen minutes before the boss walked back out of the building with the biggest defeated face ever. She walked towards us and gave us today’s plan. The office had a little infestation of rants, a mix of wild and domestic, from the pet store right by us. Pest control would take a few hours but would be done by noon, something that the boss wasn’t a fan of. She instructed us, the ones with work laptops and access to the files, to work from home and those that didn’t, to take the day off.

That really brought a smile to Janice's face as being a stubborn woman and not taking the laptop last month paid off, something that the boss didn’t like but there was nothing anyone could do as a lawsuit for negligence would cost more than a single day of delay. Plus, our clients aren’t that strict when things happen out of our control. Now that the game plan was set, I drove back home to maybe work. I was more excited about teasing my husband until Alice arrived.

When I arrived home, I was met with a surprise, my spot in the garage was taken by Alice’s car. The cheeky girl came in today super early. The thought of them fucking immediately flooded my mind and began to hesitate. I wanted them to keep this a secret but the thrill of catching them in the act was way too intoxicating.

I opened the door slowly, just in case they were fucking in the living room, but they were not in the living room or kitchen. But there was a delicious smell coming from the oven. That delicious smell reminded me of my husband’s home country cooking and I couldn’t resist. I took a peek inside the oven and that pork shoulder got me drooling. Too bad it was recently put in the oven, and with the timer still hours away I was getting hungry.

With my stomach growling softly, I made my way to our bedroom. To my excitement, the door was closed, something that he wasn’t too keen on. My heart began to race as I placed my ear against the door and heard them, that deep gorgeous voice of my husband and that shy cute voice of Alice.

With a bit of a shaky hand, I slowly turned the door nob and opened the door just slightly. Letting just a sliver of light peek through but thanks to the morning sun illuminating the room, I caught Alice wearing my old cheerleader uniform and she looked so sexy. That cute ass peeking out under her mini skirt and her perky tits peeking under her crop top.

She should definitely keep it, especially after watching my husband not only drool for her but his cock, his thick hard needy cock, jump with excitement the moment she showed him. I was getting so fucking horny just looking at them but the moment she kneeled between his legs and began to lick his cock I lost it.

I tried my hardest to control myself but seeing those pretty lips wrapped around his cock just made it so hard. My pussy began aching for his cock but that wasn’t enough for me to jump in. What was enough was watching her change in my red dress while being all dom. She has always been the shy and chubby girl but seeing her like that really made me ache to have my husband's cock in me.

My hands took a mind of their own and slowly began to rub my pussy over my pants as Alice slowly climb on my husband's lap and kissed him. I really tried to keep myself from jumping in but the moment Alice sank on his cock I truly lost it. I opened the door slowly as they were too engrossed in each other. I wouldn’t blame him as Alice’s greedy pussy engulfed his cock so hungrily.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I asked with blushed cheeks

Josh’s POV:

My heart jumped hard as my head turned a ninety to look at the door to find my wife staring daggers at us. Even though those could kill anyone, I could tell she was more than excited to catch us in the act. To my surprise, Alice was even more excited than my wife or maybe it was the shock of getting caught that made her pussy squeeze my cock so much tighter. Her cute blushed cheeks turned dark red as she tried to speak and my cock greedily throbbed inside her.

“Can you explain what is going on here, Alice?!” My wife asked as she crossed her arms trying to act all angry and tough

“I… I… I…” Alice began to stutter as she tried not to cry now that she was caught

“Baby…” I said before I was immediately interrupted

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, I leave for work thinking you would pamper me and what do you do? Fuck my best friend?!!! In my own clothes? In my own fucking bed?!” Sarah said while looking at Alice’s eyes

“She has a better ass than you, what can I say!” I said with a straight face.

They both turned their heads to look at me with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. My wife straight up blushed darkly as her eyes screamed, “You are in so much trouble after this” while Alice’s eyes just looked at me like deer in headlights. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea but it sure cut down on the anger in the air.

“Fine! Show me how is that ass better than mine!” Sarah said as she looked at me

“I… I think… I should get going” Alice blushed darkly as she looked back at Sarah

“Oh no! You aren’t going anywhere. I want to see what he loves so much about you.” Sarah said as she pushed down on Alice’s shoulders, making her sick back on my cock before grabbing the ottoman and sitting down to watch.

“Are you sure about this?” Alice asked shyly

“Well, you are already riding his cock, doesn’t it really matter?” My wife asked back as she stared at Alice’s ass

Alice gulped shyly as she turned her head to look back at me with a “you just had to open your mouth” look right before bouncing on my cock softly. Her cheeks turned a cute bright red as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Since the cat was almost out of the bag, I couldn’t resist and kissed those shy and embarrassed lips. That made her even more self-conscious and blushed darker as we began to make out passionately.

Her pussy clenched harder around my cock with each slow and teasing bounce as my hands gently rubbed down her sexy body. My fingers quickly found the slit of her dress before I gently pulled it up as we kiss passionately. As her focus was on our lips, I greedily tossed the dress at Sarah and she looked at me with her jaw on the floor. Getting to see us fuck was one thing, me subtly humiliating her was another and she was really horny for it.

Now that her small perky tits were finally in my reach, I gently pushed her back and began to suck on them. My tongue greedily swirled over her hard nipples as she slowed her bounce. Her voice hitched in her throat as she tried to moan something but all she could muster was a shy squeal as I nibbled on her nipple. Sadly this didn’t last for long as Alice gently pushed me back and returned to bouncing hard on my cock.

With my lips already missing those hard nipples, I leaned back on the bed, letting Alice take a bit of control and ride me as she pleased but not before I grabbed onto those plump ass cheeks and spread them wide. Letting my wife watch my hard cock slowly push in Alice’s tight pussy as she ride it like it was hers.

M35 F30. Two young, adventurous, fit and attractive professionals. We’ve been exploring for years. These are the stories we write about them. 

F30 is stunning. Light skin African American. Eyes that make your knees weak. Fat ass slim waist. Toned stomach. A flexible yogi. The sweetest pussy. So delicious I lose track of time eating away until it’s dripping down my chin. 

M35 is of Mediterranean descent. Olive skin. Long dark hair. A trimmed beard. He’s in shape. Toned but not ripped. His cock… is a big and thick cock. A pornstar cock. “He knows how to use his blessing” as my girl says

Two freaks who found each other. Our sex lives early on was insanely hot. We were into the same kinks. She loved to be dominated. He loved to dominate. 

Now we tell our sexual adventures…

This one takes place in Atlanta. It was summer. 

M30 at the time had a business trip. F25 tagged along. My company sponsored dinners. The hotel room. Everything. 

We decided to celebrate it with freaky fun. To this point we had only been open with her best friend. Which we both still reminisced about…  

We searched subreddits of Atlanta and Georgia. We posted what we were looking forward. Couple in town. Looking for a F 3rd. We posted pics of us together with clothes on. Then suggestive pictures. But we didn’t reveal nudity. 

We received numerous DMs. We ended up selecting F23 from Atlanta. We’ll call her Nia. 

Light skinned girl (half black half hispanic). She was 5’6. Pilates ass and a B cup sized tits (both pierced). Septum piercing. Dark straight hair. Full red lips. She had an arm sleeve. Stomach tattoos and some on her legs. Her legs were long and she had softtt brown skin. She was both our types. Her vibe was kinky freak. Exactly what we were looking for. 

We messaged her and she quickly hit us back. The flirting commenced after the brief feel out period. 

We moved to snapchat and created a group chat for the three of us to sext. Nia loved to be dominated. She also loved eating pussy. We had ourselves a winner. We chatted for about an hour. Telling past hot stories. Telling our kinks. It was free and total honesty. 

At one point, Nia sent us a picture of her in a lacy sky blue thong and no bra (laying in her bed). Both her tits were pierced her caption read, “I’m already wet”

My gf sent back a picture of my hard dick with the caption “look what you did to him…”

Nia, “Mmmm so big. I want to taste it. And you bb.”

My gf sent back a vid of her reaching down her yoga pants. Her pink underwear revealed as she touched herself under it. 

Nia responded, “me and your man would peel those off”

The next video we sent her was my gf POV of me with her pink panties pulled to the side as I ate her deliciously sweet and smooth pussy. Our caption was simple and to the point, “Cum over”

We sent Nia the hotel we were staying at and agreed to meet at the bar. We set boundaries. No hard feelings if any of us wasn’t feeling it. All of us provided recent STD test. Nia had an IUD. And loved to be fucked raw. 

We sent her an Uber and teased her with snaps on her 30 min drive to us. We sent a video of my gf sucking my thick cock. She sent back a subtle video of her touching herself in the backseat of the uber. She wore a jean skirt and a tight sky blue tank. 

“I think my uber driver just saw me” she messaged us. Then she sent us a video of her panties pulled to the side as teased herself. 

We met her in the hotel bar. My cock had to be strapped in the waistband of my sweats (nike club). My girl wore yoga pants and a tank. 

The vibes were there. And calming. We knew it was gonna be a fun time. Sometimes energies just match and the three of us had that. 

We enjoyed our drinks at the bar. She was bubbly and fun. Her and my girl really hit it off. My gf engaged the touch by asking the story behind her unique tattoos as she softly touched them. As conversation and drinks flowed I noticed they started to become more and more touchy with each other with each round. Holding hands. Touching thighs. Any excuse to touch they did. I let my girl take the driver’s seat when we add a third. Best way to build comfort and trust. 

We went to our hotel room sponsored by my work. Beautiful room. Great view of the city. Amenities. It was a penthouse room. HUGE. 

“Oh, a hot tub?” Said Nia as she walked in

My girl smiled and turned on the hot water… Once the tub was filled with steaming water I watched as my sexy girl stripped down first. My cock throbbing. My girl took of her top. Her small dark nipples looked mouthwatering. Her slim toned stomach. I stepped to her and grabbed one side of her yoga pants. I looked to Nia who joined on the other side. We peeled my girlfriend’s yoga pants off slowly. My gf wore no panties. 

The hottest part was as we pulled my gf yoga pants down part of her wetness from her pussy caught on pants and extended…  

My girl then kissed Nia and removed her top. Then unbuttoned her jean skirt as it fell to the floor. Next my girl peeled off Nia’s sky blue thong.

Nia was stunning naked. Her skin glowed. Radiant. Soft and mouth watering. Her pussy was waxed. My cock pulsed at the sight. 

Nia got into the hot tub as my girl removed my shirt. Then pulled down my grey sweats, slowly. My cock swinging out. My girl took my cock in her hand and started stroking me as we made out in front of Nia. My girl then got to her knees and put her pretty lips on the tip of my cock before running her tongue along it until she ultimately took it into her mouth. My girl sucked me while Nia watched from the hot tub. Touching her fat smooth pussy underneath the water. 

My girl told me to join Nia in the tub as she went and got us a bottle of wine we had purchased earlier. 

“Having fun?”, I asked

Nia to me, “that was fucking hot.”

“you’re gonna cum so much with us…”

Nia bit her lip and blushed. 

My girl poured our wine glasses and joined. I was located in the middle of my girl and Nia. My girl grabbed Nia’s hand and placed it on my cock then kissed her. They made out with me in the middle of them as Nia slowly stroked me under the water. The kissing escalated between my girl and Nia. Next thing you know I’m rotating between both as I make out with them. 

My girlfriend recommended we move to the bed. 

We dried off. All our eyes clouded with lust. 

We kept the curtain open as the city lights lit our room. 

My girl and Nia made out as they fell to the bed. Exploring each other’s bodies. Kissing. Swirling. Grabbing. 

I stayed standing at the edge of the bed. Nia spread my girl’s legs wide, “You’re so wet bb”

My girl’s head went over the edge of the bed as she sucked my cock. I watched as my girlfriend had her pussy eaten by Nia. 

My gf sucked my dick so sloppy. I gave thrust deep in her mouth. 

“Let her eat you.”, I told Nia.

Nia climbed over and rode my girlfriend’s face as I got down on my knees and ate my gf. Nia had ate her her just right. My gf was dripping. My long tongue went slowly up my gf’s pussy. I’m addicted to her taste. I ate her just how I know she likes it. My tongue flat and licking rhythmically. Not too fast. Not too slow. My gf and Nia moaned their pleasure. I lightly flicked my gf pearl. Driving her pussy even crazier. 

I needed to be inside my woman. I stood up and slapped my cock against her pussy. Nia bit her lip watching as her pussy continued to be eaten by gf. 

I pushed inside my gf. Warm, wet, tight, euphoric is how she felt. 

I picked up speed until I was pounding my gf. Her pussy clenched for a minute of orgasms. Watching her tits bounce as I gave her all of me. 

Next I fucked my girlfriend from behind as she ate Nia’s pinky pussy. Watching my gf’s thick as bounce as I fucked her from behind as her head was buried between a sexy woman’s thighs is an image I’ll never let leave my spankbank.

My cock was covered in my girlfriend’s cream as I drove it so deep inside her. The wetness smacking as loud as my hand on her ass. 

Next my gf and Nia sucked my girlfriend juices off of my cock together. 

Before my gf told Nia, “Your turn”

Nia got on her back and spread her legs. Her pussy glistened. I ran the tip of my cock down her slit as my gf teased her hard brown nipples with slow tongue swirls in a circular motion. 

“You want his cock?” My gf sexily asked

“Bad.” Was all she could get out

I pushed inside her. She had a grip that could make a man cum in a second. 

I fucked her so good she still sends my girl and I nudes asking when we’re gonna be in town next. 

I spread her legs wide. I held them tight. I let her ride my cock as I pile drive her from below. At one point as she was riding me my girl was licking her clit and then started licking my balls. 

The only reason I didn’t cum immediately is cuz I never wanted this hot, sweaty sex to end. 

I had the girls with both their asses facing me (my girl’s better). I rotated between fucking them both. Exchanging their pussy juices and using it as even more lube for the other.

If you’re wondering where I came

Inside my gf. 

I love Atlanta. 

Part 01

As he fastened his seatbelt and prepared for takeoff, Jackson’s stomach flipped with excitement. This vacation to Sri Lanka had been a long time coming, and he was ready to unwind from the stresses of corporate life in the tech industry. A flight attendant caught his eye as she made her way down the aisle, checking on passengers and offering assistance. He couldn’t help but notice how stunning she was, with her high cheekbones, dark almond-shaped eyes, and full lips that seemed to curve into a perpetual smile.

As the plane took to the sky, Jackson settled into his seat, pulling out his laptop to catch up on some work. The hum of the engine and the gentle rocking motion of the plane soon had him relaxing, the stress of the past few months beginning to melt away. A few hours into the long-haul flight, the hostess reappeared with a snack trolley, her movements graceful and efficient as she attended to each passenger in turn.

When she reached his seat, she paused, her smile widening as she met his gaze. “Would you like something from the trolley, sir?” she asked in a soft, melodic voice.

Jackson felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on hers. “I guess I’ll have…... you,” he replied, his voice low and smooth. “You’ve been caught in my eye ever since I boarded the plane. Because you are very beautiful.”

The air hostess, blushed prettily, a light dusting of pink coloring her cheeks. “Well, sir,” she said, “how about something else from the trolley?”

“Maybe some coffee and that sandwich,” Jackson suggested, gesturing towards the selection on offer.

She handed him the sandwich, her fingers brushing lightly against his as she passed it over. Before pouring his coffee, she pulled a pen from her pocket and wrote on the paper cup. “We could hang out after this flight,” she scribbled in neat, cursive handwriting. “Maybe.” At the bottom of the cup before pouring the steaming coffee and handing it to Jackson with a small, knowing smile.

“What’s your name?” Jackson asked as Asheni moved past him, pushing the trolley towards the next row of seats.

“Asheni,” she replied, pointing to the name tag on her chest.

Jackson flashed her a warm smile, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of her name. “It’s nice to meet you, Asheni,” he murmured, watching as she continued down the aisle.

As the flight progressed and the hours ticked by, Jackson found himself stealing glances at Asheni whenever she passed by. There was something about her that drew him in, a spark of attraction that he couldn’t ignore. And when, towards the end of the flight, she paused by his seat once more, her smile soft and inviting, Jackson knew that this chance encounter might just be the start of something special.

As the plane kept flying to its destination, Jackson reached for his phone, his fingers moving quickly over the keys as he typed out a message to Asheni.

“Hey, it’s Jackson from the plane,” he wrote, hesitating for a moment before adding, “what are you upto now?”

His phone buzzed with a response almost immediately, Asheni’s message flashing up on the screen. “It's pretty borung actually. Just waiting until meal time.,” she replied.

As both of them kept on texting, a loud crack of thunder split the air, causing the aircraft to shudder violently. Outside, a torrent of rain lashed against the windows, the sky lit up intermittently by brilliant flashes of lightning.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” came the captain’s voice over the intercom, calm and reassuring despite the worsening weather. “We’ve hit a bit of a storm, but don’t worry. We’ll be on the ground shortly.”

But as the plane continued its approach, the storm only grew in intensity. Lightning struck the engines with a deafening crash, sending a jolt of electricity through the aircraft that caused the lights to flicker and and shortout. The air pressure dropped sharply, and the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling, the sound of panicked breathing filling the cabin.

“We’re experiencing some engine failure,” the captain announced, his voice still steady despite the danger. “Please fasten your seat belts and prepare for impact.”

Jackson’s heart raced as he clasped his seatbelt securely around his waist, his eyes darting towards Asheni, who was now strapped into her jump seat at the rear of the plane. She looked frightened, but she managed a small smile as she caught his gaze, her lips pressed tightly together in a gesture of reassurance.

As the plane plummeted towards the ground, Jackson closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable crash. The impact was tremendous, throwing him forward against his seatbelt with such force that the wind was knocked from his lungs. He heard the sound of tearing metal and water splashing, the screams of terrified passengers filling the air. And then, everything went black.

When Jackson came to, he was lying on a sandy beach, the warm sun beating down on his face. For a moment, he was disoriented, unsure of where he was or what had happened. But as his memories began to return, he sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the wreckage.

The beach was littered with debris from the crash, pieces of twisted metal and torn fabric scattered across the sand. Jackson stumbled to his feet, his head pounding and his body aching all over. But he knew he had to keep moving, had to find help before it was too late.

“Asheni!” he called out, his voice hoarse and cracked. “Where are you?”

There was no response, only the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the cries of seagulls circling overhead. Jackson began to walk along the beach, calling out if  her or anyone else survived as he went, his heart filled with a desperate hope that she had survived the disaster.

As he rounded a bend in the coastline, he caught sight of a figure lying motionless on the sand. With a surge of adrenaline, Jackson quickened his pace, his pulse racing as he drew nearer.

“Asheni!” He cried as he was dropping to his knees.

“Asheni!” He cried as he was dropping to his knees beside her still form. “Oh God, please be okay.”

Gently, he turned her over, relief flooding through him as he saw that she was breathing, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Her skin was pale and clammy, a sheen of sweat coating her forehead, but she was alive.

“Asheni,” Jackson whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Can you hear me? It’s Jackson.”

Slowly, Asheni’s eyes flickered open, her gaze unfocused as she struggled to regain consciousness. “Jackson?” she murmured, her voice weak and trembling. “What… what happened?”

“The plane crashed,” Jackson explained, keeping his voice low and soothing. “But we’re alive. So far it's just us.”

Asheni’s eyes widened as the events of the past few hours came flooding back to her. She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing her back down onto the sand.

“Easy,” Jackson said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Just take it slow. We need to get you somewhere safe.”

With Jackson’s help, Asheni managed to sit up, leaning heavily against him as she struggled to find her balance. Together, they made their way along the beach, searching for any sign of civilization or other survivors from the crash.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the ocean, Jackson and Asheni finally found what they had been looking for – a small cave set into the cliffs, partially hidden by the foliage. It wasn’t much, but it would provide them with some shelter from the elements, a place to rest and regroup before deciding on their next move.

“I’ll gather some wood for a fire,” Jackson said, glancing up at the darkening sky. “You should try to get some rest.”

Asheni nodded wearily, settling herself down on the sandy floor of the cave. As Jackson set off to search for firewood, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude towards this man who had saved her life. She didn’t know much about him, but she knew that she could trust him, knew that together, they would survive this terrible ordeal.

Both of them scavened whatever they can from the plane and the forrest to make the cave more habittable. Jackson even made a small barrier so that other animals could not come inside. Jackson would go out and find any food he could find or hunt for fish or small animals while trying to explore the island more and get an idea of where they might be.

Meanwhile, Asheni made proper beddings and organize with whatever she could find surrounding the outside of the cave area and whatever Jackson brings which he might think be useful for their survival. This continued for what felt like days or maybe weeks.

On one day, As night fell over the island, Jackson and Asheni huddled together in the cave, the warmth of the fire and the sound of the waves lulling them into a restless sleep. Because the night was colder than before. They useth the warmth of thr fire and whatever blankets they could find to keep themselves warm.

They knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, they were alive, and that was all that mattered. Little did they know, their adventure was only just beginning, and their chance meeting on that fateful flight would lead them down a path they never could have imagined.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Jackson stirred from his sleep, his body stiff and aching from the cold night. Beside him, Asheni lay curled up on her side, her breathing slow and steady. For a moment, Jackson watched her, taking in the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair fell softly across her face.

He felt a pang of guilt at the attraction he felt towards her, knowing that they should be focusing all their energy on survival. But as he gazed at her sleeping form, he couldn’t deny the spark of desire that burned within him.

“Asheni,” he whispered, reaching out to gently shake her shoulder. “We should get moving. We need to find food and fresh water.”

Asheni stirred slowly, her eyes fluttering open as she struggled to wakefulness. “What time is it?” she mumbled, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back in a languid stretch.

Jackson’s eyes were drawn to the way her blouse pulled tight across her chest, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that made his mouth go dry. He tore his gaze away, clearing his throat as he stood up. “It’s early,” he replied. “But we should make the most of the daylight. We need to explore the island and see what we can find.”

Asheni nodded, pushing herself to her feet. She brushed the sand from her clothes, her movements slow and unsteady. Jackson couldn’t help but notice the way her skirt clung to her hips, the way her blouse accentuated the swell of her breasts.

“We should find some fruit trees,” Asheni said, her voice still thick with sleep. “And maybe a stream or a river. We need to find a source of fresh water.”

Jackson nodded, tearing his eyes away from her tempting form. “I saw some palm trees further inland yesterday,” he said. “We can start there.”

As they made their way through the dense foliage of the island, the air grew thick with heat and humidity. Asheni pushed aside branches and fought her way through tangled vines, her clothes becoming damp with sweat and sticky with sap.

Jackson followed close behind, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips, the tantalizing glimpse of her bare legs beneath her skirt. He felt a stirring in his groin, a desire that he knew he had to push aside if they were to survive.

As they emerged into a small clearing, Asheni let out a cry of excitement. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing towards a cluster of palm trees laden with coconuts. “We can drink the milk and eat the flesh.”

Jackson smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. At least they had found something to sustain them, something to keep them alive a little longer. But as he watched Asheni reach up to pluck a coconut from the tree, his desire for her burned hotter than ever.

They spent the morning gathering coconuts and searching for a source of fresh water. By the time the sun reached its peak in the sky, they had found a small stream running down from the hills, its crystal clear waters a welcome relief in the sweltering heat.

As they sat on the banks of the stream, drinking their fill and feasting on coconut flesh, Asheni couldn't help but glance at Jackson's toned body glistning with his sweat. His shirt clung to his skin, outlining the powerful muscles of his chest and arms, and she felt a flutter in her stomach as she wondered what it would be like to feel those arms around her.

She shook the thought from her mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. They needed to survive, and they couldn’t afford to be distracted by thoughts of desire. But as she caught Jackson watching her, a hungry look in his eyes, she knew that the attraction between them was impossible to ignore.

She knew the chemistry between them palpable in the humid island air. Without a word, she stood up, her eyes locked on Jackson’s as she moved towards him. He looked up at her in surprise, his breath catching in his throat as she straddled his lap, her arms winding around his neck.

“Asheni,” he breathed, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. “What are you doing?”

But she didn’t answer, instead leaning in to press her lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration of lips and tongues. But as the heat between them built, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more demanding.

Jackson’s hands slid down to cup Asheni’s ass, pulling her tighter against him as he ravaged her mouth with his tongue. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair as she ground her hips against his, feeling the hardness of his cock beneath her.

“Asheni,” Jackson growled, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down her neck. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We should be focused on survival.”

But Asheni stopped caring about their survival for a bit and she gave into her desire. All she cared about was the feel of Jackson’s body against hers, the taste of his lips on hers. She wanted him, and she knew that he wanted her too.

“Please, Jackson,” she whispered, her voice breathy and desperate. “I need you.”

Jackson groaned, his resolve crumbling in the face of her desire. He wanted her too, had wanted her from the moment he first saw her on the plane. And here they were, stranded on a deserted island with no one around for miles. It was the perfect opportunity to give in to their desires, to explore the passion that burned between them.

Without another word, Jackson stood up, lifting Asheni into his arms as he did so. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms tight around his neck as he carried her away from the stream and into the privacy of the trees.

He laid her down on a bed of soft leaves, his hands already working to undo the buttons of her blouse. Asheni arched her back, helping him to remove the garment before reaching for the waistband of her skirt.

Together, they stripped each other naked, their clothes discarded on the forest floor. Jackson paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of Asheni’s naked body, her skin glowing golden in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

She was beautiful, her curves enticing, her breasts full and tempting. Jackson felt his cock throb with desire as he gazed at her, his need for her overwhelming.

“Asheni,” he growled, lowering himself down to cover her body with his own. “You’re so beautiful.”

Asheni smiled, her hands reaching up to stroke his face. “So are you,” she breathed, her eyes drinking in the sight of his naked form.

Jackson leaned down to kiss her again, his tongue delving deep into her mouth as he positioned himself between her thighs. Asheni gasped as she felt the tip of his cock brush against her entrance, her body aching with need.

“Please, Jackson,” she begged, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I need you inside me.”

Jackson didn’t need any further encouragement. With a swift thrust, he buried his cock deep inside her, groaning at the feel of her tight heat enveloping him. Asheni cried out, her back arching off the ground as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They moved together in perfect sync, their bodies slick with sweat as they chased their pleasure. Jackson pounded into her hard and fast, his thrusts driving her wild with need. Asheni met each thrust with a roll of her hips, taking him deeper with each movement.

“Oh God, Jackson,” she cried, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You feel so good.”

Jackson groaned, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. “You feel amazing,” he growled, his hips never slowing in their relentless pace. “So tight and wet and perfect.”

Asheni moaned, her body trembling with pleasure. She was close, so close, and she knew that Jackson was too. She could feel the tension building in his body, the power behind each thrust.

With a final, powerful thrust, Asheni cried out, her own orgasm crashing over her in waves of pleasure. She clung to Jackson, her legs tight around his waist.

As soon as she was done, she pushed him back and slid down his body until she was face to face with his cock. She licked her lips and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Cum for me, Jackson,” she said in a sultry voice. “Please, I want it so badly.”

She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently as she began to stroke the shaft with her hand. Jackson groaned at the sensation, his eyes fixed on Asheni’s face as she worked her magic.

“Fuck, Asheni,” he moaned, his hips thrusting gently to meet her movements. “Your mouth feels so good.”

Asheni hummed around his cock, taking him deeper into her throat. She could taste the saltiness of his pre-cum, and she knew he was close. She increased her pace, her hand and mouth working together in perfect rhythm.

“Cum for me, Jackson,” she pleaded, lifting her head to look up at him. “Please, I want your cum all over me.”

Jackson growled, his hands fisting in her hair. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his hips thrusting wildly as he neared his peak.

Asheni smiled, opening her mouth wide. “Give it to me, my naughty boy,” she breathed. “Cover my face in your cum.”

With a final thrust, Jackson exploded, his hot cum shooting into Asheni’s mouth and onto her face. She moaned in pleasure, swallowing every drop as he painted her face with his seed.

As he finished, Jackson collapsed onto his back, his chest heaving with exertion. Asheni crawled up his body, straddling his hips as she leaned down to kiss him deeply.

“Thank you,” she breathed, breaking the kiss to look into his eyes. “That was amazing.”

Jackson smiled, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “It was,” he agreed. “You’re amazing, Asheni.”

Asheni blushed, her heart soaring at his words. She had never felt this way about anyone before, had never been so drawn to someone. And as she lay there in Jackson’s arms, she knew that no matter what happened next, she would never forget this moment, this feeling.

They stayed there for a while, holding each other close as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. But as the sun began to set, casting the island in a golden glow, they knew they had to get moving. They had to find shelter for the night, had to start a fire and find food.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart, dressing quickly before setting off into the forest. As they walked, hand in hand, Asheni glanced over at Jackson, a smile playing on her lips. They had found each other on this deserted island, and no matter what the future held, she knew that she would always cherish this moment, this passion that burned between them.

They found a small cave just as the sun was setting, its entrance hidden by a thick curtain of vines. Inside, it was cool and dry, the perfect place to spend the night.

Together, they gathered wood and started a fire, the flickering flames casting shadows on the walls of the cave. Asheni sat close to Jackson, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the fire dance.

“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” she asked softly, her eyes fixed on the flames.

Jackson put his arm around her, pulling her closer. “We are,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “We have each other, and together, we can survive anything.”

Asheni smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that he was right, knew that as long as they had each other, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead. And as they sat there by the fire, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew that this was just the beginning of their journey together. They curled up together and slept the rest of that night.

To be Continued.

PART 2

Red light swimming into view out of the right side of his vision. He had sort of sunk into the depths of the warm and relaxed place that the THC butter was supposed to send him to.

squeak squeak squeak

SQUAWK?

He tried to ask...until he realized the turkey call was still strapped to the harness around his head.

“ok Turkey, here we are! The OVEN”

Her grin and obvious joy was honestly more terrifying than anything else about the events that took place that day. She wheeled the cart that his tray was heaved upon and directly through a door to a room entirely filled with red light and what appeared to fire.

“SQUUUUAAAAAWWWWWKKKKKKK”

“SSSHHHHH….Shut the fuck up Turkey Boy. You´ll be ok...maybe I should have just gone ahead and used ketamine to be honest….”

and with that, she full force shoved the wheeled cart through the door and locked it with a brass locking bar.

He was alone with nothing but the dark red glow and the long wires of the “thermometer” to keep him company. Upon closer inspection, as he strained his neck to look around, the red lights were coming from what looked like heat lamps. No wonder it was so warm.

But hey, he was just being cooked until sweaty and desperate not until crisp and thoroughly dead.

Bzzzzt….bzzzttt….bzzzZZZZTTTTT…..

“SQUAAAAAAAKKKKKK”

He heard laughing from outside of the heavy door. She was having a ball to the sounds of his shaft getting cooked from the inside out.

She turned it up

“SSQQQQUUUUAAAAAAKKKKKKKK!!!!!”

The brutal shock was being met with a deep pulsing throb of low frequency vibration deep inside of his abdomen.

PULSE..2...3...PULSE...2….3

over and over again it made his bussy ring spasm and hungrily chew at the pull tab on the toy that stuck out of him.

“come on turkey! We both know you won´t be ready until your little thermometer pops! Be a good bird for Mommy”

BZZZTTT…

His nipple clamps gave a quick shock just to emphasize how serious she was about cooking him.

The vibration in the anal beads kicked up to 11 as the shock on his nipples rose with the same intensity and the “thermometer” in his cock began to vibrate rather than shock him.

“Come on little bird, let´s see you burst, you have 30 seconds before I get bored and just cook you from the inside”

PULSE PULSE PULSE PULSE PULSE the toys picked up the pace deep within his core.

“SQUAK SQUAK SQUAWK” he screamed into the turkey call as his nipples fried with current.

“25!”

He squirmed and twisted against his restraints, holding him in place.

Finally managing a head turn he got a glimpse of his Mommy; panties hanging off one ankle as she gave herself something to be thankful for.

“sqwauk….mmmmm….sqwauk….”

“20!”

She was glistening from what the hitachi was able to do to her.

Practically moaning the numbers out now…

“15!”

the turkey boy felt his prostate leaking and unable to hold itself together.

Precum dripping and basting his flesh

“Ttttteeeeeeeeeeennnn!”

“SQUAK”….trying to hold back to not cum before Her.

“FIVE!”

practically choking on his own tongue as he tries to hold himself back!

SQQQQQUUUUUUUUAAAAAKKKKK….SQUAK SQWAUCCKKK!

Hot creamy sauce shoots out of the turkey and covers it´s abdomen just in time for him to see Mommy´s pussy spasm and pulse in orgasm.

Such a slutty bird he is.

You sank into the plush couch in Dr. Ellis’s office, the faint hum of the air conditioner blending with the rapid thud of your heartbeat. The room carried a subtle lavender scent, meant to soothe, but it did little to untangle the knot in your stomach.

Therapy was new—a space to unravel the chaos of adult life: bills, work, the grind of keeping your marriage together.

Today, you’d stumbled into deeper waters, and the words spilled out, raw and unsteady.

“I love my husband,” you said, your voice soft, fingers twisting the hem of your dress. “More than anything. But… I’m not… satisfied. Sexually.”

Dr. Ellis looked up from his notepad, his calm eyes meeting yours. His trimmed beard and quiet attentiveness made you feel seen, not judged.

“That sounds heavy, Madison. What does ‘not satisfied’ feel like?”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck.

God, this is mortifying.

“It’s… not fun anymore. Like a chore. I don’t feel anything. My libido’s just… gone.”

“When did you notice this starting?” His voice was gentle, coaxing a fragile truth.

“Years ago,” you said, staring at the floor. “It’s worse now. I haven’t… had an orgasm with him in forever. He’s… definitely on the smaller side. And he doesn’t last long. A couple minutes, max.” Your cheeks burned.

Why am I spilling this?

Dr. Ellis nodded, unfazed. “That sounds frustrating. Have you talked to him about it?”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, a few times. He gets defensive. Says it’s my problem, that I need to fix it. He thinks our sex life’s great. And he… hates me using toys, so I stopped.”

“You’re carrying a lot of disappointment alone,” he said, leaning forward. “How does that change how you see sex?”

You bit your lip, tears prickling. “I don’t think of it as pleasure anymore. Just… something I do for him. A duty.”

Dr. Ellis set his notepad down, thoughtful. “That’s a heavy weight, Madison. There’s something we could try—a new form of EMDR therapy, adapted for sexual dissatisfaction. It’s early-stage, but promising. Want me to explain?”

You blinked, curiosity nudging your embarrassment. “Sure. What’s it like?”

He smiled, reaching for a box on his desk. “Normal EMDR processes trauma by stimulating both sides of your brain, often with vibrations or sounds, while you focus on emotions or memories. This version rewires negative associations with sex, helping you reconnect with pleasure. Today, we’d do a light intro to explore your feelings. No pressure. Sound okay?”

You hesitated.

This sounds… weird. But maybe it’s worth a shot.

“Alright. Let’s try it.”

“Great,” he said, pulling out two small devices—handheld buzzers, smooth plastic. He handed them to you, their weight cool in your palms.

“These vibrate alternately, left to right. You hold one in each hand, and I’ll ask questions to dig into your emotions around intimacy. It’s like… opening a wound to heal it.”

You turned the buzzers over. “So, I just hold them?”

“Exactly,” he said. “Sit back, close your eyes, hold the buzzers. I’ll turn them on, and we’ll start with simple questions. Ready?”

You nodded, settling in, the buzzers humming to life. Left, right, left, right—a pulsing rhythm tingling up your arms. The vibrations were subtle but insistent, lulling your mind into a gentle haze, like sinking into warm water.

This is… strange. It’s pulling me in.

Your shoulders relaxed, breaths slowing as the buzzing wrapped your thoughts.

“When was the last time you and your husband were intimate?” Dr. Ellis’s voice was calm, blending with the buzzers, almost inside your head.

“Last weekend,” you said, eyes closed, the memory flat.

“How’d it start?” His tone was gentle, guiding you deeper.

“We were in bed, about to sleep. He… said he was horny and needed to release to fall asleep.” The words felt distant, tugged by the buzzing.

“Got it,” he said. “Were you excited about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted, the truth slipping out under the buzzers’ spell. The vibrations pulsed stronger, fingers tingling, mind drifting.

I’m… floating.

“Why not?” His voice was a tether.

“I never get close to… finishing,” you said, heavy but effortless. “It’s not… satisfying.”

“Did you finish that night?” he asked, kind but direct.

“No,” you said, small. “I didn’t.” The buzzing intensified, vibrating through you, lulling you into a hypnotic trance.

I’m sinking.

“Does seeing your husband naked spark arousal anymore?”

You winced, the question sharp against the buzzers’ hum. “Not really,” you said, cheeks warming.

That sounds harsh.

The vibrations pulsed deeper, blurring focus.

“What’s changed?” Dr. Ellis asked, steady, navigating a hidden path.

“He’s… I don’t know… let himself go I guess,” you said, hesitating. “Doesn’t exercise at all. And… he’s not… big.” The last part rushed out, face burning as the buzzers pulled truth from you.

“I hear you,” he said, no judgment. “How long did it last?”

“Maybe… three or four minutes,” you said, frustration distant. The buzzers pulsed, hypnotic, hands tingling, mind hazy.

It’s like I’m under a spell.

“That’s not satisfying, is it?” he asked, soft but probing.

“No,” you said, cracking. “It’s… never intimate. Never sexy. Just… quick.” The vibrations echoed your frustration, grounding you.

“Sounds like you’re missing connection,” he said. “Would a satisfying sex life make you happier?”

“God, yes,” you said, raw, desperate. The buzzers hummed, sinking into your bones.

I need this.

“Let’s dig deeper,” he said, guiding you. “Do you have fantasies that don’t involve your husband?”

Your breath caught, jolting you in the trance.

Do I say this?

“I… used to. Is that… wrong?” The vibrations urged you, a gentle command.

“Not at all,” he said, warm, reassuring. “Totally normal. What did you think about?”

You swallowed, the buzzers wrapping your thoughts, hard to resist. “It’s… embarrassing,” you mumbled, face hot.

“This is safe, Madison,” he said, steady. “Nothing leaves here. You can share.”

“Okay,” you said, shaky breath. “I… thought about a guy who was… well-endowed. Someone who could last. And… dominant.”

The words spilled, buzzers stripping filters.

“That’s valuable,” he said, pen scratching. “How did those fantasies make you feel?”

You paused, vibrations tingling into your chest. “Alive,” you said, soft, certain. “Like… I was desired.”

The trance deepened, thoughts unguarded.

This is intense.

“Any specific scenarios?” he asked, probing. “A setting or dynamic?”

You hesitated, buzzers pulsing faster, urging you. “Sometimes,” you said, barely audible. “Like… being taken. Not thinking. Letting go.”

“That’s powerful,” he said, encouraging. “Is that surrender something you miss now?”

“Yeah,” you said, effortless. “It’s all… routine. No… passion.” The buzzers thrummed, hands heavy, mind soft.

“Your husband’s biology can’t change overnight,” Dr. Ellis said. “Could he help you feel that passion another way?”

You sighed, vibrations amplifying years’ weight. “I don’t think so,” you said, heavy. “We’ve talked. He doesn’t get it. Thinks it’s my problem.”

The buzzers pulsed, anchoring you.

Why am I confessing everything?

The buzzers slowed, stopped, silence jarring you. You opened your eyes, blinking, hands tingling. Dr. Ellis watched, kind, focused.

“Strong start, Madison,” he said, setting the remote down. “We uncovered a lot. How’d the EMDR feel?”

You shifted, hazy. “Weird,” you said, laughing shakily. “Like a trance. The buzzing was… intense. Made everything… open.”

He nodded, smiling faintly. “That’s normal. The vibrations can be hypnotic, accessing deeper emotions. Next week, we’ll do a full session with the new EMDR method, linking sex with pleasure. Up for it?”

You nodded, nerves and curiosity swirling. “Yeah, I think so.”

—————————-

A week later, you were back on the same couch, stomach churning with anticipation. The lavender scent felt sharper, trying too hard to calm you. You’d spent the week replaying the last session, wondering if you’d said too much, if this was a mistake. But the pull to reclaim some spark of desire kept you here, tethered to the possibility of feeling alive again.

Dr. Ellis greeted you with a warm smile, notepad ready. “How’s your week been, Madison?”

You shrugged, forcing a smile. “Fine, I guess. Work’s been crazy. Same old.”

“Anything new with your husband? Any intimacy since last weekend?”

You shook your head. “No. He tried, but I… wasn’t feeling it.”

“That’s okay,” he said, his voice steady. “Today’s session will be different, a big step forward. Ready to dive in?”

You nodded, throat tight.

Here we go.

Dr. Ellis leaned forward, professional but warm. “We’re building on last week, using more vibration devices to rewire your brain’s association with pleasure. It might sound strange, but the research is promising.” He chuckled, pulling a small box from his desk. “Bear with me.”

He handed you two small silicone caps, like small thimbles with circular stickers on the outside. “These go on your nipples. They’ll vibrate gently to stimulate sensation.”

Your eyes widened, a nervous laugh escaping. “You’re kidding, right?”

He smiled, unperturbed. “I know it sounds wild, but it’s part of the process. We’re engaging your body’s natural responses.”

He reached into his desk, pulling out a sealed package that he then opened- a sleek, V-shaped vibrator, curved with a joint in the middle. “This is for internal and external stimulation. One part goes inside, and the other rests against your clitoris.”

You stared at the device, heart racing.

This is insane. Am I really doing this?

“You’re… serious?”

“Completely,” he said, calm. “Only if you’re comfortable. You can stop anytime. Want to proceed?”

You hesitated, mind screaming to bolt, but curiosity and desperation rooted you. “I guess… it’s worth a shot.”

“Great.” He set a small bottle of lubricant on the table. “I’ll step out while you get ready. Take your time.”

The door clicked shut, and you were alone, staring at the devices.

Ridiculous.

You laughed shakily, then slipped the nipple caps under your dress, tucking them beneath your bra until they rested snugly against your nipples. Heart pounding, you lowered your underwear, applied a dab of lube, inserted the vibrator, and folded the external piece against your clitoris. You pulled your underwear back up, the device hidden but undeniable, though silent for now.

You sat back, hands folded in your lap, feeling like you’d crossed a line. A quiet knock broke your thoughts.

“Ready?” Dr. Ellis’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Yup!” you called, voice higher than intended.

He stepped back in, handing you the familiar hand buzzers. “We’ll start with these, then move to the other devices. One last time—are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the buzzers tightly. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice slipping into a calm, guiding cadence.

The buzzers hummed to life, alternating left and right, pulling you back into that hypnotic haze.

I’m already drifting.

“Are you currently satisfied with your sex life?”

“No, I’m not,” you said, the words easier now, the buzzers softening your edges.

“When was the last time you had sex that was satisfying?” His voice blended with the vibrations, lulling you deeper.

You sighed, the memory distant. “Honestly… probably an ex-boyfriend. A long time ago.”

The buzzers pulsed faster, tingling up your arms.

“So your husband has never sexually satisfied you?” Dr. Ellis asked, gentle but probing.

“No… I guess not,” you said, a pang of guilt dulled by the trance.

This is so raw.

“Do you ever watch pornography?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“I used to,” you said, the buzzers urging you on. “But my husband doesn’t like it if he knows I do.”

“I see,” he said, his pen scratching. “Do you ever have sexual fantasies that you think about?”

“Not really anymore,” you admitted, vibrations sinking deeper. “I’ve… lost hope for a fulfilling sex life.”

God, that’s depressing.

“So back when you did have fantasies, what would you think about?” The buzzers intensified, pulling you further into the haze.

“Like I said last week… guys who are well-endowed. Passionate sex,” you said, your voice soft, the trance loosening your tongue.

“You’re doing so good, Madison,” Dr. Ellis said, his tone warm. “I want you to imagine your perfect penis.”

You laughed softly, eyes still closed. “My perfect penis?” The buzzers pulsed, keeping you tethered.

“I know it’s silly,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“But humor me. Imagine it and describe it.”

“Um… okay,” you said, the image forming easily in the trance. “It’s big, but not too big. Not intimidating. Just… right.” This is so weird. “It feels… exciting,” you added, the buzzers tingling.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now imagine it getting fully erect.”

You giggled, the image vivid. “Okay, I’m imagining a big, hard… dick.” The word felt bold, the buzzers urging you on. You shifted slightly, sinking deeper into the couch, but your legs remained closed, the vibrator still dormant.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Dr. Ellis said. “Do you, or did you, enjoy giving oral sex or fantasizing about it?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you said, your voice softening, a flicker of heat stirring.

“I’m going to start using less clinical language now, to evoke a more primal response,” he said. “Is that okay?”

“You mean like saying ‘cock’ instead of ‘penis’?” you asked, half-teasing, the trance making you bold.

“Exactly,” he said, chuckling. “It’s about tapping into your instincts. Ready?”

“Yeah, makes sense,” you said, sinking deeper.

Here we go.

The buzzers intensified, vibrating faster. “Are you typically dominant or submissive in the bedroom?”

“Submissive, I guess,” you said, the vibrations pulling you under.

“Do you enjoy being submissive?” he asked, the rhythm relentless.

“Yeah I’d say so, definitely,” you said, a flush spreading across your chest.

“So you like being told what to do?” Dr. Ellis asked, his voice steady.

“Yeah,” you said, your pulse quickening.

I’m so… open.

You slid back slightly, head resting on the backrest, but your legs stayed together, the vibrator silent.

“Imagine you’re on your knees, a man standing in front of you, fully hard,” he said, his voice guiding you. “Can you picture it?”

“Yeah,” you said, the image sharp in the trance.

It’s so vivid.

“Imagine him placing his hands on the back of your head, pushing your mouth down on his cock.” The nipple caps buzzed to life, circling your nipples, sending a jolt through you.

You gasped, the sensation sharp and tingling. “Oh god,” you murmured, body tensing slightly.

Fuck that’s intense.

“Imagine his big, hard cock thrusting in and out of your mouth,” Dr. Ellis continued. “Do you like knowing how good your mouth makes him feel?”

“Yes,” you whispered, arousal building slowly, your body stirring but not yet fully awakened.

Fuck I’m losing it.

“Imagine he’s sitting down now, and you’re on his lap,” he said. “He’s groping your chest from behind. Do you like that?”

“Yes,” you gasped, the nipple caps buzzing fiercely. “I love it.” Your head pressed harder against the backrest, body sinking into the couch, legs still together.

“Imagine his hand sliding down, spreading your legs,” he said. “He’s rubbing you over your panties. Can you feel it?”

You nodded, the image vivid, your breath catching.

It’s so real.

The vibrator surged to life—internal and external stimulation hitting you like a shockwave. You yelped, hips jerking involuntarily, a raw, electric pleasure shooting through your core. “Oh my god!” you gasped, voice shaking, body trembling as the deep throb pulsed inside you and against your clitoris.

What is this? It’s… overwhelming!

Your legs spread instinctively, thighs parting wide to accommodate the sudden intensity, pleasure coiling tight.

“You’re doing so good, Madison,” Dr. Ellis said, his voice calm. “Imagine him rubbing you, making your pussy nice and wet. Do you like knowing he’s in control?”

“Yes,” you breathed, the vibrations consuming you, your legs splayed, hips shifting.

I shouldn’t… but it’s everything.

“Feels… good,” you whispered, the pleasure deepening.

“Imagine he’s pulling your panties down, spreading your legs wider,” he said. “He’s positioning himself between your thighs, his cock hard and ready. Can you picture it?”

“Yeah… I can,” you said, trembling in the trance.

Fuck this is too real.

“Describe it,” he said. “What does it make you feel?”

“It’s… big. Thick. Exciting. Like it’ll fill me up,” you said, voice shaking. “Makes me… desired.” The nipple caps buzzed faster, heat spreading, vibrator throbbing relentlessly.

“Imagine he’s teasing you, rubbing the tip of his cock against you,” he said. “Not entering yet, just… teasing. Do you like that?”

“Yes,” you gasped, the vibrator pulsing deeper, your legs trembling.

I’m floating.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he said. “Imagine he’s looking at you, eyes dark with want. He’s telling you he needs to fuck you. Do you want him to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, thick with need. “I want it.”

“Tell me how,” he said, firm but encouraging.

“Hard,” you said, spilling out. “Take me. Like I’m his.” The buzzers numbed your fingers, the vibrator throbbing, intensifying the haze.

“You’re doing so good,” he said. “Imagine him sliding into you, slow at first, stretching you. How does it feel?”

“Incredible,” you said, shaking. “Whole. His.” The nipple caps tightened, making you squirm, legs spread wide.

Fuck this feels good.

“His,” he repeated. “Like being claimed?”

“Yes,” you admitted, flushed. “Feels good,” you murmured, arousal spiking.

“Imagine he’s fucking you hard, telling you you’re his dirty little slut,” he said. “Does degradation excite you?”

Your breath caught, ‘slut’ igniting you.

Oh god.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “It does.”

“Why?” he said, pushing deeper.

“Freeing,” you said, trance flowing. “I can be his. Dirty.” The vibrator surged, toes curling.

So deep.

“Imagine he’s pinning your wrists, fucking you, calling you his slut,” he said. “Tying your wrists with his belt. Like bondage?”

“Yes,” you said, vivid. “Love it.

“Describe it,” he said, nipple caps fierce.

“No control,” you said. “His to play with.”

“You’re doing so good,” he said. “Now imagine he’s talking differently, calling you his little girl, saying, ‘Be a good girl for Daddy.’ Does daddy talk appeal to you?”

Your heart skipped, ‘Daddy’ landing like a shockwave. Daddy? The vibrations made it undeniable, a rush flooding you. “Yeah,” you gasped, trembling. “Does.”

“Why?” he asked, buzzers blurring. “What’s it mean to you?”

“Comforting,” you said, surprised. “He’s in charge, but… cares. I can let go.” The vibrator rolled, hips bucking.

Fuck I’m drowning.

“Let’s explore that,” he said. “What about being Daddy’s little girl feels safe? Powerful?”

“It’s… like I’m enough,” you said, soft. “He wants me, protects me, but… owns me. Don’t have to be perfect.” The nipple caps buzzed fiercely, heat spreading. “An orgasm’s… building,” you gasped, the daddy dynamic igniting a fire, pleasure surging.

It’s starting. I can feel it coming.

“That’s deep,” he said, encouraging. “Does it make you feel desired in a way you’re missing?”

“Yeah,” you said, cracking. “Seen.”

Vibrations surged. “So… intense,” you moaned, legs trembling, body shaking.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he said. “Imagine Daddy’s fucking you, calling you his little girl, saying, ‘Daddy’s so proud.’ Hands on your hips, thrusting deep. Want Daddy to keep going?”

“Yes,” you cried, raw, overwhelming. The vibrator pulsed, legs splayed, head pressed against backrest. “Feels so good,” you moaned, pleasure surging.

I’m falling apart.

“Imagine Daddy telling you he’s going to cum inside you, fill his little girl,” he said. “Like a creampie? Daddy claiming you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, visceral. Yes. “I fucking love it.” Nipple caps ached, body shaking.

“Why?” he said, pushing.

“Possessive,” you said, breaking. “Daddy’s marking me.” “So good,” you moaned, peaking.

“You’re doing so well,” he said. “Imagine Daddy fucking you, tying you up, filling his little girl with his cum. But your husband’s watching, seeing his wife take Daddy’s cock like a slut. Does cuckolding excite you?”

Your breath hitched. Cuckolding? “Yeah,” you admitted, shaking. “Does.”

“Describe it,” he said. “What’s happening?”

“He’s… watching,” you said, soft. “Quiet, in corner. I’m moaning, begging Daddy. He’s fucking me, and I… love it. Powerful.”

The vibrator throbbed, your orgasm building higher. “So close to cumming,” you gasped, hips bucking.

Fuck I can’t hold on.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Imagine your husband’s face, seeing his wife lost on Daddy’s cock. He knows he can’t satisfy you like Daddy. Like that power?”

“Yes,” you cried, overwhelming. “Alive. Enough.”

“Go deeper,” he said. “Imagine Daddy whispering he wants to breed his little girl, put a baby in you while your husband watches. Claiming you forever. Like that?”

Breath caught, breeding raw. A baby?

Trance burned it into desire. “Fuck yes,” you gasped. “Love it.” “Feels so good Daddy,” you moaned, convulsing.

“Why?” he said, pushing.

“Ultimate,” you said, breaking. “Daddy’s making me his forever.” Vibrator pulsed, edge near.

There.

“Good girl,” he said. “Imagine your husband seeing Daddy’s seed fill you, knowing you’re Daddy’s little girl. You’re cumming, clenching your pussy around Daddy’s cock as he breeds you. Ready?”

“Yes!” you cried, orgasm crashing. “Gonna come!”

“Cum now, Madison,” he demanded. “Cum for Daddy.”

Holy fucking shit.

The vibrator surged, you shattered as you spread your legs wide, twitching your hips, your panties in plain sight. “I’m cumming!” you gasped, convulsing, massive orgasm tearing through, ignited by daddy talk, now overwhelming. Your hips bucked on the couch, buzzers dropped, nipple caps and vibrator prolonging, the trance amplifying.

Fuck Fuck Fuck I’m cumming.

Collapsed, panting.

Vibrations stopped, fog lifting. You opened your eyes, disoriented, Dr. Ellis watching, calm. You quickly pulled down your dress and closed your legs, Mr. Ellis just had front row seats to you soaking your panties for who knows how long.

“Take your time,” he said softly, setting remote down. “You did so good, Madison. How do you feel?”

You laughed shakily, face burning. “Unreal.”

Fuck. I just came in therapy. What’s my life?

He nodded, gentle. “We’re rewiring pleasure. How’s it feel?”

“Like… waking up,” you said, catching breath. “Forgot this.”

“Progress,” he said, smiling. “Next week we can take it a step further. Would you like to continue with the treatment?”

You nodded, aftershocks humming. “Yeah.”

She leaned against the counter, not believing that this was happening but feeling a rush that it was. His hands moved slowly up her back, his fingers unhooking her bra in a simple snap. One strap fell from her shoulder, and he kissed her flesh gently as he slowly slid the other strap down her arm.

His body pressed against hers as he leaned against her. His lips now kissing at her neck, one hand slipping between her side and arm as his firm fingers swarmed her left breast. Further below, she could feel his lust hardening as it touched her. She closed her dark brown eyes as his breath caressed her neck, and his hands massaged her bare areoles.

She wanted this. Gosh, she wanted this. Her silver wedding band floated down his bare chest, the cup of her hand clasping around the bulge in his jeans. She could feel everything. The whole length. The whole grip. He kissed her neck more passionately as she turned to face him finally.

There was a gleam in her eyes, a fire that turned into an inferno. Her body shivered. She hadn’t felt like this in years. He charged in for a kiss, and she met him just as passionately. Tongue against tongue. Breathe against breathe. His hands clasped her breasts, hers went down to his groin.

They pulled away, locked into each other’s eyes. Caught up in one another’s thoughts. He had already slid off her pants, and now it was time to return the favor.

She kissed his lips lightly, fingers loosening the top button. Eager hands unzipping his fly. She broke away again, but fell to her knees along with his jeans.

His manhood was like a fruit. Long, thick, sweet, and savory. Forbidden. And she wrapped her lips around it like a starving herbivore. Taking its full length into her mouth, feeling its pulsing presence against her tongue. She looked up at him, could tell he was enjoying every bit of it. For the first time in fifteen years, she had the cock of another man in her control…and she loved it.

Now that he was fully hardened, she picked herself up and locked lips with him again. Her hand held tightly onto his manhood, as his fingers rubbed the wetness between her legs. She broke away again, but led him to the arm of the couch in the living room, where her husband eagerly waited.

She let him finish undressing her, as her lips moved onto her husband’s own erection. The insertion was slow, and for the first time in nearly two decades, another man was fucking her…and it felt so wickedly delightful.

In the morning she woke up between the two. Her body had never felt so…listless. So light and beautiful. Both of her lovers awoke as well, and she decided to help by gripping both of their manhoods and stroking her thankfulness until her hands were once again covered in new life.

Grudgingly, her admirer got out of bed and started for his discarded clothes. She watched him as he got dressed.

“Well,” he said to them, “guess we’ll have to make the late service today. Y’all going to be there?”

Her husband chuckled.

“Yeah, we’ll see you there.”

She eyed the other as he slipped his jeans on, morning sunlight from the window on her tanned breasts.

“We’ll have to be,” she said, “because we’re a trio of wicked sinners today.”

Day 4 (Tuesday)

*** note to readers. This is actually not going to be all that erotic. This is a bit of a departure into exploring the more emotional aspect of this past week for us together, so if you’re just in it for the carnal details, just wait till I finish day 5, and skip to that. This day was really just a precursor, and I wrote it yesterday night in a very different state of mind. But, if our story matters to you at all, I think this is more meaningful. I’m sitting here finishing this after ‘day 5’ with Michelle, who’s currently asleep in the bedroom, while I watch a grey evening come to close over the skyline, my mind clear. Contemplative. Fucking… Gordon lightfoot on my stereo. Lol. I’m getting started on day 5 narrative before it fades…

***

I awoke late, somehow sleeping thorugh my usual wake up time by a couple hours. I was dazed and disoriented, at first forgetting I was not at my house, looking around feeling lost for moment before I centered. My sleep had been chaotic. Nightmarish. I had dreamt of running through endless beige, banal hallways, dodging tawdry, leering faces, never able to find the exit. No mystery to that particular dream I thought.

I checked my phone. Fuck, hundreds of emails. Checked my calendar. No meetings. Great. I’ll certainly work from home today. I made coffee, began a dreary drudge through my inbox. The only real thing that mattered to me was that glorious point of light, that text from Michelle. 

Then, negative intrusive thoughts began, unbidden and wickedly self-hateful. You’re a complete shithead. Why would you think Michelle isn’t doing this exact same thing with all her other so-called ‘boyfriends’. You’re not special, you’re a piece of shit. You don’t work hard enough, you’re a fucking user. You asshole. You don’t make anyone feel good at all. You make them feel like shit. You just make yourself feel good. You don’t care about anyone, or anything. You’re a nighlistic piece of garbage. You don’t have a clue. You think you understand some higher philosophy, some kind of enlightenment. You’re shit. You’re fucking meat. You’re a moron along for the a ride in a better mans body. A better mans life. No one trusts you, Michelle doesn’t trust you. She’s using you. 

These voices were alarming, this was not like me. I was getting desperate. Where the hell was this coming from? I actually caught myself saying outloud, “No, that’s not right!’ and I just stared out the window for a while, waiting for something to change in my head, hopeless as to what that might be. 

And there it was, the text. The lifeline. Or was it?

Michelle showed up around 2, looking relaxed and calm as usual. She could read the miserable look on my face, and was immediately to my side. 

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” Cradling my head to her chest. 

I pulled back, looked at her, “Do you think we love each other?”

A huge smile spread across her face, “Oh yes, I love you so much.”

“Ya, but…how… can we, say that to each other… when we will fuck pretty much anyone.”

She just scoffed, but looked at me with real compassion, 

“Fucking, not love. Body, not love. Body, fucking, food, house, car… everything. Temporary, not love. Meaningless except to allow experience the momen’. You have no body or I have no body, no way to experience momen’. Only in the momen’ is love, the presen’ momen’ is only righ’ now. 

Mus’ be truly present. I love you because you always very presen’. No thing’ about future, no worry about work or complain abou’ job. I never hear abou’ that from you. When you wi’me, you only wi’ me. I never see that before, not anyone, and I have been wi’ lot of men, and women. You know. No’ one ever really in moment w’ me like you. Never.

Love is momen’. Love is now. Only now, because nothing else really exist. Right now, I love you, you love me, righ’ now righ’? What else matter?”

“Don’t you think it’s more? Like trust, and… commitment, faithfulness.”

“I trust you, you trust me, we know. We see in each others eye. We know, and there no reason to question heart. Commi’ment, faith… ownership. Control. No trust. Like bank, hol’ money, no’ because they trust you. Control you.”

“Ok, but what if I didn’t have any of this, or I was ugly to you or really out of shape..”

She smirked, “You are sorta ugly to me, not super best shape either.” She smiled at me. 

“I’m serious…”

‘I know, sorry. Truth is, just makes access to moments harder, maybe not even possible, if you have none of these things. World full, lonely people never meet. Take no risk, close heart to judgements. Call people whore or slut, thing’ make them powerful cause they have money. Truth is. This make them weak. You never judge, you never call me whore, you see only my heart.” And then a tear sprang from her eye. “Only you ever see my heart and no’ judge me. Never think money makes me less than you.”

I smiled, she was making me feel better. “I do get to see a little more than just your heart.”

She sniffed, ‘Oh you don’ joke now. Yes you see more, you see soul. Soul all that is real. You know, don’t preten’ wi’ me you just some stupid guy.” She wiped away a tear and smiled again.

I just sat with her a moment, absorbing her words, and then I hugged her close. Then I held her back, so is that why you’ve done this, this… crazy blue ball week? To bring about some sort of catharsis in mind to, I don’t know… release me from my body.”

“I don’t know this word, ‘Cat-are…’, but… I thin’ you mean to leave body, to forget self, yes? “

“Ya, Basically.”

She nodded, “See, I know you’re smart boy. You me, I thing’ we can transcen’ body to pure momen’ together. Its’ taking hard work because you cannot help being a man. Man body no’ so easy allow connection and transcen’. Get close sometime, then “thpt”... she made a little spitting sound, that made me chuckle. 

“So you think the orgasm is a moment of transcendence?” 

She nodded slowly, ‘I think can be. I see edge sometime, not many, just sometime. Lately mostly I feel maybe I can see with you. Why you thing’ I try so hard this week?”

“And is that moment of transcendence, through the orgasm, is that love?”

“There can be no true love outside of the momen’, not real. Orgasm maybe help see transcendan’ nature of true love in the momen’, I think.”

I smiled more broadly, “I guess I was really wondering about that. Sorry, I maybe should have gathered my feelings earlier this week. It seems like you’ve had them pretty straight since day one.” I hugged her again ‘Thank you’

She patted my back, pushed away gently. “Ok, done being sappy baby boy? Ready to help me see ‘god’” she stuck out her tongue and put up little air quotes, saying this with a purposefully dopey sounding voice.

Her ability to shift like this from such obviously deep thinking back to such lightness on the turn of a dime, made me realize I had a lot to learn from this person. The whiplash just made me feel slow and pedantic compared to her.

I breathed deeply a few times. “Honestly, I am not sure.”

She frowned at me, “Why not? What are you afraid of?”

That was a good question. I thought for a moment, and looked up at her. “Failing you.”

At this, all concern seemed to leave her face, replaced with her usual cool ease. “Ah, in this there is no fail, it's all in try, all in even believing it’s possible. Maybe even believe impossible, and still try. Only fail is to be afraid to try. So far, all week, you not afraid. Surprise me a little even.”

I nodded again. I felt free and relieved of whatever cloud had descended on my mind. 

“Thank you honey. I am willing to try. I’m not afraid, not now. What was your plan before I screwed it all up?”

“I think I change mind a little, not much though.” 

“Ok” I said simply, waiting for her to continue. 

“You remember when you come my house, fuck me and Yumi yes?”

“Pretty hard to forget,” The memory suddenly making me feel a bit embarrassed, “It was, the first time we ever did anal.”

“Mmm hmm,” she nodded, ‘Problem I was not present that time, not wi’ you, you not w’ me. We lost in bodies that time, no momen’. I had no orgasm, no cum, not really. Body cum only, no soul, not for me. I thing’ because Yumi there at same time, I cannot be presen’. You, I think you did. You release your fear, act brave, not preten’ to be man and instead just allow momen’ and experience, forget yourself. I am jealous of you tha’ time. I wan’ try again.” She smiled at me.

*** Suffice to say, we proceeded with a memorable time together, where Michelle submitted a high level of trust with me, allowing me to see what her fears might be in her particular journey. For some reason… I just don’t feel like sharing it with anyone. I feel like it will l just be a re-write of plenty of other ‘anal’ scenes, and… that doesn’t work here. Sorry. I might be able to translate it into something entertaining, hot, etc. later...but not right now. My brain is mush. ***

What I did have to do on this evening, as I had been close to insanity having been edged and blueballed relentlessly, and also physically & emotionally tested, that I simply could no longer concentrate on anything. In desperation, I got out for a run. I don’t really like running. But, like Forest Gump… I just kept running. Almost 2 hours later I had burned off almost 30k, and had achieved what I can only call… my own perspective on how meaningless my own suffering was. And, Michelle had in her own way finally set my mind free from my body, allowing me to focus on what matters here. I don’t know that I’ve yet helped her do the same though, if she in fact needs my ‘help’ at all...

People back home always spoke about America like it was the promised land. They always made it sound like some profound mythical place where all your dreams come true. When I got here however I got a nice, fresh dose of reality. I had been a chemist back in Honduras and yet I found myself here cleaning homes for the rich elites in the suburbs of Long Island. It’s sad how things don’t always go as we plan.

Don’t get me wrong I’m thankful for the life I had and being blessed with an amazing daughter, but still…being a mother is something nothing can prepare you for. In someways I felt that I had sacrificed a part of myself…no going out, no dates, no…physical…touch. My entire being was completely committed to just making sure we were scraping by.

These reoccurring thoughts invaded my head once again as I walked into Aaron’s room. Aaron was the Calabria’s son who was now back for the summer after finishing the year at college. He was quite a charming and handsome young man and was always extremely polite to me in contrast to his rude and stuck up parents.

He played college football for a small private college up in Maine and towered over my 5’5 figure by almost a foot. Speaking of my figure, that’s something else I didn’t expect to change when becoming a mom. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated, my formerly skinny, hour glass figure was now “slim thick”, my breasts had grown and were beginning to sag, and overall I just felt undesirable.

I was still in a sad daze as I picked up clothes, cleaned up cups, and made the bed. Now I Just had to take out the trash and I could finally go home and rot in bed.

As I made my way to the bin my heart jumped to my throat… I couldn’t believe what I was seeing…Used condoms and tissue paper littered the bag’s inside. Aaron always seemed so sweet and polite and yet the evidence here showed he was fucking like a wild animal. The scattered colors in the bin caught my eye, sure, but it was that smell that really made me perk up. Something about it had my pheromones on full alert.

It had been almost 3 years since I’ve had sex. I’d felt so ugly since giving birth. I spent the last segment of my life doing everything I could for my family, ignoring my own interests…my own desires in the process. But the aroma of semen reawoken something deep inside of me, something I had been missing dearly. For the first time in recent memory I didn’t feel like a mom or a maid…I felt like a woman again…a woman with a woman’s needs!

I quickly shook my head trying to snap out of it as I gathered up the trash bag and exited back to the hallway. Even though I was just taking out Aaron’s trash, I felt so naughty…but not in a bad way. My heart raced strangely with nervousness and excitement as I stared down at the bag. My mouth went dry and I could feel a pleasant warmth starting to build within me. What the hell was happening to me?!

Despite my brains protests, my hand started moving into the bag on its own. My fingers rummaged through the mixture of lubrication, and roughness from the ribs. I grabbed the slick, rubbery texture in my fingers and pulled it out. It was still warm, like it was only used mere hours ago.

“Bianca, stop! Why are you doing this” I thought to myself as I studied the clear condom in my hand. What a dirty boy, couldn’t even be bothered to tie it off. I felt the still warm semen through the rubbery tip as goose bumps flooded my body. Aaron’s cum, my customer’s son, the sweet boy, the college athlete, … the sexy stud of a man…his seed layed there in my hands. I felt my heart beating out of my chest as my thighs clamped together. I flipped the condom inside out, revealing Aaron’s cum, as it slowly leaked into my palm.

Feeling it hit my skin was like a drug! Instantly I was now fully aware of the dampness building between my thighs and the heat from deep within me. I breathed heavily and lathered my hands in it, feeling the slick creamy texture, mesmerized by the strings of Aaron’s seed. It had been so long since I’d that warm, creamy sensation.

Memories of my slutty promiscuous younger days came rushing through my brain as I nervously but excitedly began unbuttoning my blue work shirt, revealing my light yellow bra. Normally I wouldn’t call myself an overly sexual person, but my womanhood was screaming to me that I’d been starving it for too long. “Calm down Bianca” I thought to myself. “You know…you are the only one here right now”. I knew what I was about to do was so wrong but my now fully horny body didn’t care.

I undid my bra revealing my light brown, d cup breasts and their accompanying eraser nipples. I spread his warm slick glazing throughout them, as if it was prestine massage oil. The sticky strings I saw with each movement causing my mouth to water. My pointer and middle fingers drew small, slick circles around my areola causing me to let out a whimper. The goose bumps throughout my body were making the sensation that much more intense.

My breasts were much more sensitive than I remembered. My touch starved body caressed them hard, my palms covered in cum left sticky, wet trails along my breasts as I squeezed them slowly until my fingers met my aching nipples. I could feel the warm, wetness growing between my legs. It was like the pleasure of my nipples had a direct path to my clit. Maybe it’s because it had been so long but this was a new discovery.

¡Jesús Cristo Bianca! What kind of pervert were you? Topless and massaging your tits with cum in your customers home…like a cheap whore! God I missed this feeling!

I made my way back into Aaron’s room and threw myself on his bed. How many young bimbos had he fucked in this bed? How many beach sluts had cum on his cock here? In that moment I wanted more than anything to be a part of that list!

I reached my hand down into my work pants and was shocked with the moisture I felt. Holy shit was I drenched…I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this wet. My entire palm was covered in a juicy slickness that had grown almost unfamiliar. The wet sounds of my finger tips running over my throbbing clit turned me on even more. The fantasy of being the slutty maid was revving me up my engine like never before!

I brought my hand out of my panties, now dripping in my nectar and I placed my fingers in my mouth. I tasted my arousal off them imagining I was tasting it off of Aaron’s hard cock. God I felt like such a slut and I was loving it!

My hand wandered back to my mound and filled my slit with two fingers causing my wetness to bubble to the opening and overflow even more into my damp blue panties. Images of Aaron filling me up flashed through my head as I added a 3rd finger, desperately fighting off the agonizing feeling of emptiness that had been building.

Knowing no one else was home I let my moans loose as I began writhing in pleasure. My juices were running down my thigh dripping onto his sheets. How ironic, I was supposed to be cleaning and now I was dripping my desperate pussys arousal onto his bed.

I could feel my pussy clenching and my clit throbbing, knowing I was going to cum so fucking hard. I started thrusting my fingers harder and faster, my other hand working on my needy clit, fantasizing that Aaron was looking down at me, pounding into me senselessly like a little fuck doll.

As my body prepared for the inevitable climax it begged for his name involuntarily escaped my mouth “Aaron…Aaron…Aaron!” I moaned as my palm raced up from my clit and wrapped around my neck hard, imaging it was his strong hands instead. I bit my bottom lip hard knowing that the sweet release would come in only a matter of moments.

My eyes shut hard as colorful fractals began to form in them as my legs stretched out as straight as they could. “Aaron…I..I’m s-so cl…close!” I moaned out loud. The sole mission of reaching thst sweet release had taken over my mind. Just as I was mere seconds away from the breath taking orgasm I so desperately needed, I heard it.

“Well well, look what we have here!” I heard as my heart stopped and my entire body halted…my eyes peered open darting in fear and locking eyes with him…Aaron…a mere inch from my face.

He put one hand on my cheek and rubbed it softly with his thumb, my body still paralyzed with shock, frozen under his seductive, smiling gaze…

To be continued…

It had been what felt like forever since the night I watched Joseph masturbate in front of me. It filled me with a sexual frustration that I never had before. I couldn’t quite satisfy myself and I tried every single night to do so. I lay in my bed unable to sleep just playing that night over and over in my head until I was so wet and frustrated that my arousal was untamable. Unmanageable. I had to see him again. The next morning I woke up groggy with an ache between my thighs that would not leave me. I sat up against my headboard in thought for awhile before rolling over and grabbing my phone off the nightstand and pulling up Joseph in my contacts. I licked my lips as I read his name. Again, flashes of our night in his car still fresh in my memory.

I texted him in the hopes I could see him over the weekend. “Hey, Joseph. I was hoping I could take you up on your offer of You watching me this time while I’m the one who’s cumming.” I smirked to myself.

I put my phone down and rubbed my eyes, still tired, the restlessness of the night weighing on me. I rolled out of bed and headed to my bathroom and turned on the shower quickly stripping myself naked and climbing in. The hot water beat against my back and I closed my eyes enjoying the heat on my skin. It was just what I needed… other than sleep… and a satisfactory orgasm, I thought as I went to grab the soap off the shelf. I popped the lid and sniffed. The wonderful pomegranate aroma filling my senses. I poured it onto my sponge and lathered my body with it, loving the way it felt when my skin was slick like this.

My fingers slowly trailing over my heavy breast, my thumb barely running over my nipple which hardened at my finger tips as I moved further down dropping the sponge and moving my body into the water running my hand down between my legs. I couldn’t help it. I was ravenous. Joseph occupied my every thought. I closed my eyes tight imagining his hair, his eyes, his mouth, flashes of them all running through my brain. I wanted to taste his lips and bite his neck. My hand was moving against my clit as I braced myself against the shower wall. I breathed out hard at the feeling growing inside me until it crashed into me within seconds and I was moaning into it while dropping my head down, water showering the back of my hair and I sighed. I sat up to catch my breath, frowning at the feeling that still stayed deep within me even though I had a release… AGAIN. I was beyond frustrated. I knew what I needed and I was going to have it.

I got out of the shower wrapping a towel around my wet body and excitedly skipping back to where my phone sat in anticipation just hoping that I had a text from Joseph. To my surprise, I had two .

“How about tomorrow night at 7:00pm? My place…”

“We‘ll have the house to ourselves.”

I was beaming. I’d have him all to myself all night long. This boy had no idea what he was in for…. The next night I was getting dressed. I slipped on some black lace panties and a Maroon bra with lace trim that pushed my breasts up nicely. I slid a short strapless pinstriped dress over my legs and let the lace peak out the top of it. Slid boots over my calves and put a long tan coat on over my outfit so that my parents didn’t see what I was wearing if they caught me leaving the house. Thankfully I was able to slip out without them hearing me. I walked to Joseph’s house, adrenaline coursing through my veins nudging me to move faster as I imagined all of the things we could do together tonight. I reached his front door and I stopped to unbutton my coat so that it was hanging open and secure a stray hair out of my face. Then I knocked.

Joseph opened the door with a smirk on his face that grew into a big smile. “Hello, gorgeous!” He said gesturing his hand to invite me inside. I calmly walked in and he led me to the couch. “Have a seat, would you like something to drink?” He said politely. “Sure. Whatever you have.” I shrugged. I looked around at the large house. It was immaculate. Someone is a neat freak, I thought. He came back in the room holding two beers and a bottle of wine. He held them up “Choose.” He said softly. I pointed to the wine and he opened it and poured me a glass, handing it to me. He clinked my glass with the mouth of his bottle and said “Cheers” before taking a sip. He slowly walked backward until his back was against the wall. He leaned up against it. My eyes wandered up and down his body. He was wearing a tight dark gray dress shirt with jeans and black tennis shoes. My finger tips played around the rim of my glass and he stared at me curiously.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” I asked crossing one leg over the other. He watched my legs and then met my eyes. It felt like they were burrowing into me. I was so excited that I could barely contain myself. The desire to launch myself across the room and hurl my body onto his was so strong. He walked over slowly and sat down next to me. Not as close as I wanted. I turned toward him uncrossing my legs and leaned back propping myself up on one arm running my finger nails over my cheek and sipping my glass of wine. He didn’t take his eyes off me with every little move I made.

“So…” he started. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night!” I interrupted. His smile is so sexy. “Tell me what you can’t stop thinking about it.” I suddenly felt so nervous. But, I was determined. No matter how scared I felt I was going to make this happen tonight. “I think…” I smiled and leaned up to place my glass on the coffee table. I locked eyes with him and leaned in close. “I haven’t been able to stop touching myself since that night and how wet it makes me to think about watching you cum all over your hand.” I said almost in a whisper. I leaned into his ear. “It occupies my every thought.” I took his lobe between my tongue and lip and lightly sucked. I could hear his breath catch.

I placed my hand on his chest and I could feel his heart pick up pace. I kissed down his neck. He smelled so good. Like fresh leather and oak. He pulled back for a moment to place his beer on the table and grabbed the back of my neck pulling me to him and taking my mouth. He kissed me softly. His tongue danced along my lips and entered my mouth with a light thrust. I moaned into his mouth. I could feel the pool forming in my panties at the taste of him. He pushed my coat off my shoulders and it fell down my arms with ease. Then he reached between my thighs pulling my panties to the side and stopping when his fingers touched my soaking lips. He bites his lip and pulls them out from beneath my dress and admires the glistening shine of his fingers. “Are you always this wet” he smiles. “Only for you.” I say as I take his fingers into my mouth and suck the juices off of them seductively. He lets out a moan then leans back in and kisses me aggressively. I fist his shirt trying to pull him closer to me. His hands are moving everywhere on my body then his mouth is moving down my neck and my nails are digging into his arms as he sucks the skin on my collarbone. I feel like I could cum just from this.

I pull away from him quickly and stand to my feet pulling my dress down and dropping it to the ground. He stares at me with lust filled eyes as he unbuttons his shirt hurriedly. I can’t help myself and I run my fingers down my body and under my panties and lightly rub against my pulsing clit loving the throb as he watches me touch myself. His face tells me how much he’s loving the view. I moan loudly. My hand is slick and I’m more than ready for him. He pulls off his shirt and throws it to the ground. His hairless chest brings more of my hunger for him to the surface. “God, you are so fucking hot!” He says as he unzips his pants and pulls out his hard cock. “Take off your bra for me, baby.” He says gripping himself at the base. He starts to jerk himself. “Don’t touch yourself.” I say and he stops. “That’s all mine tonight!” I smile and unclasp my bra. My big tits spring free and I play with my nipples as I get down on my knees in front of him.

He sits up straight and buries his head in my cleavage. I reach between us and my finger tips graze his tip. He leans back against the couch with a heavy sigh as I grasp him. I wasted no time and took him into my mouth. My tongue slid against the underside of his cock and I pushed myself until his tip reached the back of my throat. “Fuck… da…damn girl.” He stuttered as I pulled him back out and throated him again. I liked the way the gagging made my entire mouth fill with saliva. I slurped and sucked as I bobbed my head up and down on him but I wasn’t going fast. I wanted to savor every moment. I grasped his balls with one hand as I jerked him with the other. I throated him one more time and then pulled him out of my mouth and spit dripped down my chin. He moaned loudly as I took his balls into my mouth and caressed them with my tongue while I continued jerking his cock. He stared down at me as I moaned at the sight of him watching me pleasure him. I was throbbing so furiously between my legs that I had to squeeze my thighs together to try and stop the ache. Every sound he made was driving me further over the edge. Feeding into me like a drug. I moved my mouth back to his cock and sucked him and licked all over the sides as I played with his balls again that were slick with my spit. A few more strokes of my hand and his hand flew to my head. He flung his head back and grasped my hair hard as he came into my mouth. I swallowed all I could but some of it leaked out the sides of my numb lips and onto my chest. I continued sucking for a few moments as he finished then I pulled my mouth off of him. He dropped his eyes to look at me as I swiped the remaining drops of cum off my chest and took my finger into my mouth sucking it off and licking my lips. He stayed hard and I smiled at him as I placed both hands on his knees and rose to my feet. He tried to catch his breath for a moment and I just stared down at him.

“I don’t think I ever… ever…. Came so hard in my life.” I bit my lip again grinning at the tingle of numbness it left. He got up and offered me his hand. I took it and he led me to a room in the back of the house. He lay down on the large bed and I pushed him onto his back and watched as he stretched his limbs out and I climbed up on the bed and lay myself on top of his hand. I started to grind against it and he watched the faces I made rubbing my clit against his skin.

I was soaking at the thought of taking him in my pussy. I straddled his hand and he sank two fingers inside me. His eyes lit up as he felt my juices flowing down them and dripping into his palm. He could see the desire in my eyes. The heat rising in my blood. He slowly moved them in and out for a minute and I smiled at the stir I felt inside. I bit my lip and he withdrew his fingers from me.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have him. A deep longing spreading through my body. I placed both hands on his chest and climbed into his lap then positioned myself down against his length, I slid down onto him but he was so fucking tight inside me. It hurt and felt so good. I felt my walls already starting to contract around him at the feeling of fullness. I sat there for a moment while I basked in the feeling of his cock deep inside me and then I started riding him furiously. My toes curling under as I gave into the pleasure, my body so raw with need. He flung his head back, low groans releasing from his lips as he gripped my hips. A lust washed over me, the sex doing nothing to satiate it only making me hungrier. I could feel it behind my eyes and through every nerve in my body. I braced myself on his shoulder rolling my hips into each thrust, rising and falling on him. The pressure building until my nails were digging deep into his skin.

My moaning uncontrolled, my panting wild. Sweat beading on the back of his neck and dripping down hitting my hand. I leaned to lick the sweat along the nape, the flavor salty and feral and I moaned at the taste of it. I wanted more. I clutched his chest to me wanting him closer. I slowed my hips wanting to make the sensations last even though I was reaching the pinnacle. I couldn’t form a thought. Only what my body craved. He gripped my hips tighter, he sucked in a quick breath trying to fight against the urge to cum. He wanted to make this last as long as I did. My body was writhing on top of him. I felt alive in it. The pulsing of him was pushing me over the edge. My legs began to shake as my orgasm took me. I held onto him for dear life wrapping my arms around his back, my breath becoming ragged and my eyes rolling back in my head. A scream escaping me, The sensation exploded under my skin and reached my limbs fast, the tingling flowing through to my finger tips and just as it started to die out, I collapsed against him, sweaty and breathless.

My thoughts were scrambled as I tried to breathe. My body was completely worn out and I could only think of sleep. I knew I needed to get back home but Joseph was running his fingers up and down my back and the skin tingled there. I couldn’t move… not yet. My breathing was finally slowing. The need that had been killing me for weeks had finally subsided and I was satisfied. I still wanted him. I had no doubt I’d want him every day after what we just did. For now id have to settle for this moment. Lying in his arms, feeling his skin against mine as I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.