Mag-log inI rub my clit in frantic circles while his cock pounds me from behind. The orgasm builds like wildfire and when it breaks I cum screaming – my pussy convulsing, my whole body shaking. Through the curtain, someone gasps.He buries himself to the hilt and pulses inside the condom, his groan vibrating against my back.He pulls out. Traces one finger down my spine while I lie face-down on the ruined chaise, shaking."We're not done," he says. "Not even close."He carries me – actually lifts me off the chaise, my legs around his waist – through the corridor and up a staircase to the second floor. Not a private suite this time. Something bigger.The room opens onto a balcony that overlooks the mansion's central garden – where the masquerade is still happening below, a hundred masked guests milling between topiaries and fountains under strings of fairy lights. The balcony is wide, stone-floored, with wrought-iron railings and candles flickering in hurricane lamps. And it's not empty.Two oth
I sit on the velvet. It's soft against my bare skin – warm, textured. I part my legs. My thong is soaked through – the fabric dark with wetness, clinging to my pussy, showing the outline of my lips through the sheer material.He kneels between my thighs. Pushes them wider. Leans in and presses his mouth against my pussy through the thong – one firm, open-mouthed kiss directly on my clit through the wet fabric – and I jolt like I've been electrocuted."Fuck –"He inhales against me. Deep. Like he's breathing me in. Then his teeth catch the edge of my thong and he drags it to the side with his mouth – no hands, just teeth and lips pulling the fabric away from my soaked cunt until I'm exposed.His tongue touches me and my hand flies to his hair. I grip the back of his head through the mask's strap and pull him closer and he groans against my pussy – the vibration shooting through my clit – and starts to eat me.He's filthy with it. Not delicate, not teasing – he licks me like he's been s
The invitation arrived in a black envelope with no return address. Heavy cardstock, gold embossed lettering, a wax seal I had to crack open with my thumbnail. Inside – one line: You are invited to disappear. A date. An address. And a mask – black silk, delicate, already fitted to a woman's face like whoever sent this knew exactly who I was.I almost didn't go. Then I held the mask up to my face in the bathroom mirror and saw someone I didn't recognize staring back – mysterious, dangerous, the kind of woman who walks into rooms full of strangers and doesn't flinch – and I decided that woman deserved one night alive.The venue is a converted mansion on the edge of the city. I arrive at ten in a black gown – backless, floor-length, slit to my upper thigh on the left side – and the mask tied behind my head. The doorman checks my invitation. Doesn't ask my name. Just nods and opens the double doors into a world that doesn't operate by any rules I know.It's beautiful. Chandeliers dripping
"Now," he says. "Cum."He seals his mouth over my clit and sucks hard and shoves three fingers inside me and I cum so violently the headboard cracks against the wall. My back bows off the mattress, my scream filling the apartment, my pussy gushing – actually squirting – around his fingers and onto his face and the sheets. He drinks it. Moans against me like it's the best thing he's ever tasted. My orgasm doesn't stop – it rolls, wave after wave, his mouth and fingers extending it until I'm convulsing and begging him to stop and begging him not to in the same breath.He pulls the blindfold off. I blink in the lamplight. He's between my legs, his face drenched, grinning."I told you I haven't even started."He crawls up my body. Unties my wrists. Kisses the red marks the belt left. Then pushes his cock inside me raw and I feel every ridge, every vein, hot skin against swollen sensitive walls. He sinks in slow – watching my face – and bottoms out with a groan that sounds like it's pulled
"Yes."He squeezes my throat and pinches my clit at the same time and I cum – violently, my pussy clamping around him in spasms so hard he swears in a language I don't know, my body convulsing, my vision going white at the edges while his hand holds my throat and his cock pulses inside me.He lifts me off him before he finishes. I feel his cock slide out – slick, hard, throbbing – and he grabs my hair and guides me down.I twist in the cramped backseat, get my mouth on him. The condom's gone – he stripped it while I was turning – and his bare cock hits my tongue tasting like latex and me and salt. I swallow him deep, my lips stretching around his thickness, taking him until he hits the back of my throat and I gag and he groans so loud it vibrates through the car."Fuck – deeper – take it deeper –"I relax my throat. Push forward. His cock slides past my gag reflex and into my throat, my nose pressing against his pelvis, my eyes watering. He holds my head there – not forcing, just keep
The date was a disaster. Three hours of a man explaining CrossFit, showing me his meal prep photos, and asking if I'd considered "optimizing my macros" while eyeing the bread basket I'd been stress-eating. I closed out my tab while he was in the bathroom and walked out.2 AM. Slightly drunk – three glasses of wine, not sloppy, just reckless. I open the Uber app. Four minutes away.The car pulls up. Black sedan. I check the plate, slide in."Nadia?" he says, turning around.I forget my name.Dark eyes – almost black in the dim light, framed by thick brows and lashes that would make any woman furious. Sharp jaw. Cheekbones catching the dashboard glow. Brown skin, warm and smooth. Hair cropped close on the sides, longer on top. Black t-shirt sewn to his body, sleeves stretched around biceps that make my mouth go dry. Forearms veined and defined, a silver watch catching the streetlight.He smiles at me and I feel it between my legs."That's me. Nadia.""I'm Kaz." Low voice. Slight accent







