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Greased & Fucked In Room 7—1
Last Updated:
2025-05-23 20:42:45
Latest chapter
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Combat Cocks—5
Jules was barely holding himself up—arms trembling, thighs shaking, body wrecked in every possible way—but when Reed shifted behind him, cock still rock-hard and buried deep, he didn’t protest.Couldn’t.There was nothing left in him but raw, twitching need.Reed moved slow this time. Not gentle—he didn’t have that in him—but with a steady, grinding rhythm that made Jules feel every inch. No slap. No chaos. Just deep, dragging thrusts, cock stretching his used hole like it was the first time all over again.“Fuck,” Jules whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, I feel everything.”“You’re gonna feel this for days, if we survive,” Reed said, low and rough.Jules shivered.Reed’s hands gripped his hips tight, holding him open, holding him still, fucking him slow and deep like he had all the time in the world—and nothing to lose. The slap of flesh was slower now, dirt-caked thighs slick with sweat and cum, Reed’s breathing hot and heavy above him.Jules pushed back into each stroke, mouth
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Combat Cocks—4
Jules didn’t resist when Reed pulled out, even though his hole twitched in protest, used to the fullness now, aching for more. He barely had a second to breathe before Reed flipped him onto his stomach, strong hands dragging him up onto his knees like a ragdoll.“Hands behind your back.”Jules obeyed.Reed grabbed his wrists, pinned them there with one hand, the other spreading Jules’s ass wide, exposing everything—slick, red, stretched open and dripping. He growled at the sight, cock twitching hard again despite the mess they’d already made.“Look at you. You’ve taken three loads and your hole’s still begging.”Jules let out a breathy laugh. “What can I say? I’m a good soldier.”Reed spit directly on his hole—thick, slow—and watched it mix with the cum already leaking out. Then he lined himself up again, nudged the head against that messy, abused entrance, and pushed in all the way with one brutal thrust.Jules choked on his own moan. His arms strained in Reed’s grip. Knees slid wide
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Combat Cocks—3
Jules moaned against Reed’s mouth, the kiss breaking into ragged breaths as Reed’s cock sank deep again. Slower this time—but heavier, filthier, as if now that they’d crossed the line, there was no going back. His thrusts were measured, dragging against every nerve ending, each one punched in with his full weight like he was fucking the air out of Jules’s lungs on purpose.“Feels different,” Jules panted. “Slower. Meaner.”Reed licked sweat off Jules’s cheek and kept moving, driving in until Jules gasped, body arching, skin slick against the floor. “You feel different. Like you need it deeper.”“I do.”Reed buried his cock all the way, held there, hips flush against Jules’s ass while he watched his face twist in pleasure. “Then take it.”He pulled out and pushed in again, the squelch of their bodies joining loud in the stillness. Jules’s hole was swollen and raw, already leaking a messy mix of their cum, but still clenching like it wasn’t ready to let go.Reed braced one hand beside J
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Combat Cocks—2
Jules choked on the stretch. His body jolted, boots scraping against loose rock, arms braced against the rough wall as Reed buried every inch inside him. No warning. No mercy. Just cock and pressure and a deep, tearing fullness that made his spine curve and his mouth fall open without a sound.“Breathe,” Reed ordered again, but he was already moving.Pulling out halfway. Slamming back in.Again. Again. Harder. Deeper. Meaner.Every thrust knocked a grunt out of Jules’s throat. He didn’t have space to think. Didn’t have room for anything but the burn of it, the stretch, the dirt grinding into his palms, the raw need coiling tighter with every slap of skin on skin.“You like getting used like this?” Reed hissed against the back of his neck, hips relentless. “Fucking enemy cock deep in your guts?”“Yes,” Jules gasped. “Fuck—yes, keep going.”Reed growled—animal, guttural, loud in the dark. His hand slid around Jules’s throat, not choking, just holding, claiming. Fingers flexing. Muscles
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Combat Cocks—1
The air was thick with ash and silence. Somewhere behind them, the world had caved in—screaming, burning, collapsing—and now there was only dirt, smoke, and the uneven rasp of two men breathing in the dark. Reed shifted, muscles twitching under the weight of debris. His shoulder was fucked, dislocated or worse, but his knife was still strapped to his thigh, and the stranger across from him was still alive. He could hear him. Hear the ragged inhales. The short, tight grunts like he was trying not to make any noise at all. Trying to stay small. “You move again,” Reed growled, voice like gravel scraped against steel, “and I’ll gut you.” The other soldier snorted, then coughed. “Yeah? Do it. I’m bored anyway.” Not what he expected. Reed’s eyes narrowed in the dark. The voice wasn’t scared. It was bored. Sarcastic. Young, but not soft. Not anymore. They hadn’t exchanged names. Not when bullets were flying. Not when the tunnel exploded and trapped them under a fuckload of concrete
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Greased & Fucked In Room 7—4
She slipped inside like a shadow—body still slick with sweat and cum, thighs trembling from the brutal fuck the mechanic gave her. Every step slow, deliberate, hips swaying with a filthy secret burning between her legs. She still felt him buried deep, marking her in ways her husband never could. She ached for him again already. Her husband waited like always—blind to the hunger she hid. She kissed him soft, sweet, perfect wife mask in place. His hands slid around her waist, warm and familiar, but she barely noticed. Her pussy was dripping, sticky with that mechanic’s possession, and the thought of her husband’s touch made the ache flare hotter. Dinner was polite. Quiet. Normal—the kind of normal that made her want to scream. Beneath the table, her thighs pressed tight, swollen and slick. Every small movement sent jolts of wet heat to her dripping cunt. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, fingers clenched on the napkin, nerves screaming with the memory of how he’d fucked her—hard,
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Greased & Fucked In Room 7—3
She was still bent over, thighs quivering, his cum leaking down her leg when her phone buzzed on the nightstand.She didn’t reach for it.He did.He picked it up, glanced at the name, and grinned dark. “It’s him.”Her heart slammed in her chest. “Don’t—”He answered.“Hey, babe,” he said, voice low and casual, like he wasn’t wrist-deep in another man’s wife. “She’s a little tied up right now.”She gasped, scrambling up, but he pressed a hand to her back, keeping her pinned to the mattress. She could still feel him inside her, softening but not leaving.The line crackled. Her husband’s voice filtered through, confused. “Who the hell is this?”“She’s at the shop,” the mechanic said smoothly, dragging his cock out slow. “Getting her tires rotated. Among other things.”“Put her on the phone.”He handed it to her.She took it with shaking fingers, trying to find her voice. “H-hi, baby.”“Where the hell are you?” her husband snapped. “You said yoga and groceries. That was hours ago.”“I—I r
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Greased & Fucked In Room 7—2
She lay there—legs spread, cunt leaking, hair a mess of sex and sweat. He watched her like she was art. Not the delicate, paint-me-like-one-of-your-girls kind. No, she was pornographic. A masterpiece of filth.He lit a cigarette, still half-naked, and leaned against the wall like he hadn’t just fucked the vowels out of her. Smoke curled from his lips as he stared at the wet between her thighs, thick with his cum.“You ever fuck him after I’ve had you?” he asked, voice like sandpaper.She blinked up at him, dazed. “Sometimes.”“You let him eat you out like this?”She flinched. Then nodded, slow.“Fucking hell.” He dragged in a deep breath, cock twitching. “You are my whore.”She didn’t apologize. Didn’t blush. She spread her legs wider like she was proud of it.He dropped the cigarette in a chipped glass, stomped over, and shoved two fingers inside her—deep. She gasped, the stretch sudden and mean.“You walk around like nothing’s wrong,” he muttered, finger-fucking her slow and deep. “
Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires Greased & Fucked In Room 7—1
The motel reeked of mildew and cheap cleaner, the neon “Vacancy” sign buzzing like it had a secret. She parked two spaces down from Room 7 like always, hands gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles ached. Her husband thought she was at yoga.She wore a soft pink sweater and jeans that hugged her hips, wedding ring still on. The wife look. Safe, sweet, dependable. No one would guess she was about to get her mouth fucked until her lipstick smeared, or that the man waiting behind that motel door would leave her thighs sticky and trembling.He didn’t text. Didn’t need to. Every Tuesday, same time, same room. And she always came back.She knocked twice—sharp, then soft. The door swung open, and there he was: grease-slick hands, oil-stained shirt clinging to muscle, stubble rough and jaw locked. He didn’t say a word. Just stepped back and let her in.The room was hot, windows shut tight. Smelled like sex and sweat and faint cologne. His boots thudded behind her as she stepped inside.
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