LOGIN"Since I was sixteen, Jake."His jaw clenches. His finger slides lower and pushes inside me – one thick finger, curling upward, finding the spot. I bite my fist so hard I taste skin. He adds a second finger. Stretches me. Fucks me with his hand while his thumb circles my clit and his mouth stays on my tit and I'm in his childhood bedroom cumming on his fingers while a football trophy watches from the shelf."Quiet," he warns. "If you wake up my sister –""I'm trying –"He curls his fingers harder. His thumb grinds my clit. And I cum – my pussy clenching around his fingers in waves, my moan smothered by my own fist, my body arching off his childhood mattress while he watches my face with dark, fascinated eyes."That's one," he says. Pulls his fingers out glistening. Puts them in his mouth. Sucks them clean. "You taste like I imagined.""You imagined?""Since last Christmas. When you wore that red dress." He pulls my underwear down my legs and drops them on the floor. "I went home and j
I've been in love with Jake Calloway since I was sixteen years old.He was twenty-one then – home from college for Christmas, walking through the kitchen in grey sweatpants and no shirt while I sat at the counter with his sister Megan eating cereal. He didn't even see me. Grabbed the orange juice, drank straight from the carton, said "morning, Meg" to his sister, and walked out. Never glanced in my direction. I was invisible – Megan's dorky friend with the braces and the frizzy hair and the body that hadn't figured itself out yet.I went home that night and touched myself for the first time thinking about a real person.That was ten years ago.I'm twenty-six now. The braces are gone. The hair is gone – replaced by the kind of blowout I learned from YouTube and maintain with religious dedication. The body figured itself out around twenty-two and I've spent the last four years making sure it stays figured out. New job – junior partner at a marketing firm. New apartment. New confidence.
I stand on shaking legs. Walk to the floor-to-ceiling glass. The city spreads below – thirty stories of lights and people and cars. I press my palms against the glass. My tits flatten against the cold surface, my nipples hard against the window, my naked body on display for anyone in the building across who cares to look up.He steps behind me. His clothed body against my naked back. His cock pressing between my ass cheeks through the gap between his open pants and my bare skin."Anyone can see you," he says against my ear. "Anyone looking up from the street. Anyone in the building across. They'd see a naked woman pressed against the glass. They'd see my cock disappear inside her."He pushes in from behind. One stroke. Deep. His cock filling me while thirty stories of city watch through the glass.I moan against the window. My breath fogs the glass. His hands grip my hips – the first time his hands have been on my body below the neck – and he pulls me back onto his cock while pressing
His eyes darken as he traces his thumb on my lower lip. "Good girl."The two words hit my clit like a current. My thighs press together on the floor and he notices and his mouth curves.He stands. Steps back. Sits in the leather chair. Legs spread. Arms on the rests. A king on a throne watching his subject kneel."Take off the bra. Slowly. Keep your eyes on me."I reach behind me. Unclasp. Let the straps slide down my arms. The bra falls. My tits are bare – heavy, my nipples already stiff from arousal and the cool air. His gaze drops to them and stays. Cataloguing."Pinch your nipples."I bring my hands to my tits. My fingers find my nipples and pinch – gently at first, then harder when his expression doesn't change, reading his silence as more."Harder. I want to see them turn red."I pinch hard enough to gasp. Rolling them between my fingers, pulling, the sharp sting shooting to my clit. He watches from the chair – his cock straining his pants, his hands gripping the armrests."Now
The rooftop bar is thirty floors up and I'm three drinks into forgetting the week I've had when he appears beside me like he materialized from the skyline.I don't see him approach. Don't hear him. One second the stool beside me is empty and the next there's a man sitting on it who takes up more space than his body should. Not because he's huge, but because his presence has a gravity that bends the air around him.Dark suit. No tie. The collar of his black shirt open enough to show the hollow of his throat. His jaw is sharp, shadowed with stubble that's deliberate rather than lazy. His hair is dark, pushed back, silver threading the temples. His eyes – I can't tell the color in the bar light, only that they're fixed on me with an intensity that makes my cocktail stop halfway to my mouth.He doesn't smile. Doesn't introduce himself. Doesn't ask my name."Come with me," he says.His voice is low. Not loud – quiet enough that I have to lean in, which means he's already controlling my bod
They strip the condoms. Dante pushes back into my mouth bare and the difference is immediate. His skin is hot against my tongue, and the taste of pre-cum salty and real. Cole enters my pussy raw from behind and the feeling of his bare cock stretching my swollen walls makes my eyes roll back."Fuck," Cole groans. “She’s dripping – I’ve never felt anyone this wet –”Dante holds my head with both hands and fucks my face – the bare head of his cock nudging my throat, my spit coating his shaft. Cole pounds me from behind – his lean hips snapping fast, his cock long enough to hit my cervix on each deep stroke.They switch again. Dante behind me, Cole in my mouth. Dante bare in my pussy – his thick cock spreading me wider than Cole’s, the girth making me scream around Cole’s shaft. Dante grabs my hips and drives deep and the wet sound of his bare cock in my soaked pussy is obscene and unmistakable.“I want to hear her scream,” Dante says. “Pull out of her mouth.”Cole withdraws. Dante pushes
Marcus lies down on the floor and Vincent positions me over him, sinking my pussy down onto his cock. The sensation makes me gasp – I’m so swollen, so sensitive, every nerve ending lit up like Christmas.“Now lean forward.”I lean. Marcus’s cock shifts inside me and I moan.“Derek, watch closely.”
I obey.Slamming down on his cock, taking him so deep my clit grinds against his pelvis with every stroke. The wet sounds are obscene – squelching, slapping, the unmistakable noise of a pussy being thoroughly fucked.“That’s it.” He’s panting now. “That’s my good girl. My perfect little slut. Ridin
Three days.Three days of “accidental” bathroom encounters.The first morning, I walked in on Frank – my mom’s boyfriend of six months – standing at the sink in nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Water droplets glistened on his chest. Silver hair at his temples. The body of a man who t
The elevator climbs toward the penthouse.Forty-four. Forty-eight. Fifty-two.I catch my reflection in the brass doors. White silk robe. White lace lingerie underneath. White veil pinned in my hair like a cruel joke.The perfect bride. About to get gangbanged by her fiancé’s entire wedding party.F







