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The Ex-Husband’s Brother (part 2)
publish date:
2026-08-27 14:47:39
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Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy Daddy’s Office Hours (part 2)
He guided her forward until she stood between his knees, her thighs brushing his. Behind her she felt Lennox rise from the chair, felt his presence looming. The teaching assistant's hands settled on her hips, light at first, then firmer, holding her in place, trapping her between them. Gideon's free hand rose to the top button of her blouse. He did not ask permission. He simply slipped the button free, then the next, revealing the plain white cotton of her bra and the quick rise of her breathing, the way her chest heaved.Lennox's mouth brushed the side of her neck, just below her ear, his breath hot. "You have no idea how long he has watched you sit in that third row saying nothing. It drives him insane. The way you hide, the way you hold back. He wants to crack you open."Gideon opened another button, methodical. "Lennox has a habit of noticing the same things I do. It makes him useful. And it means you will answer to both of us."Briar's knees felt unreliable, weak. The last button
Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy Daddy’s Office Hours (part 1)
Briar Ellis never spoke unless called on, and even then her answers came out soft and precise, like she was afraid of taking up too much air in the room. She sat in the third row of Professor Gideon Shaw's Advanced Literary Theory seminar, spine straight, pen moving in clean lines across the page, recording everything. Her essays were the opposite of her voice: sharp, original, sometimes devastating, cutting through the text like a blade. Gideon had read the latest one twice before the rest of the stack, lingering over her analysis. She had taken a minor Romantic poem and turned it into an argument about power and silence that felt personal, felt like she was writing about herself.He kept her after class on a Thursday.The lecture hall emptied in the usual rush of bags and conversation, the scrape of chairs, the hurried footsteps. Briar remained in her seat until the last student left, then walked down the steps with her notebook hugged to her chest like armor. Gideon closed the door
Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy Billionaire & His Bodyguard (part 4)
Alaric's words hung in the air. Cassian's thumb kept moving in slow circles on the soft skin of Maren's inner thigh, spreading the wetness that still leaked from her, mixing his cum with her arousal. Her body felt open and used and nowhere near finished, still humming, still wanting. The cooling streaks of cum on her stomach and breasts made her skin tight, made her feel marked. She could still feel the ghost of Cassian's thick cock stretching her, the way her walls had fluttered and clenched when she came, the way he had filled her up.Cassian shifted first. He hooked his hands under her knees and dragged her down the couch until her ass rested at the edge, spread and exposed. The movement opened her wider. Cool air touched her soaked cunt and made her shiver, her clit throbbing."Look at that," Cassian muttered, voice rough, hungry. "Still dripping. Pretty little hole all puffy and shiny. Fucked full of cum and still greedy."He rubbed the head of his cock up and down her slit, coll
Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy Billionaire & His Bodyguard (part 3)
Cassian didn't start the engine. He sat with both hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead at the concrete wall of the garage. The green dress clung to Maren's back where it left her skin bare. The night air still felt cool against her skin, but heat was building under her ribs, in her stomach, between her legs."You're not taking me home," she said. It wasn't a question."No."He reversed out and drove upward instead of toward the exit. The private elevator was already waiting when they reached the upper level. Cassian parked, got out, opened her door. This time his hand settled at the small of her back and stayed there, firm and certain, guiding her. The touch burned through the thin fabric.The doors closed. The car rose. Cassian's thumb moved once against her bare skin just above the dress, a slow stroke that said everything. Maren's breath left her in a shaky exhale. She didn't pull away.The penthouse was darker. Most lights lowered. Alaric stood near the windows with a fresh
Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy Black Daddies’ Private Collection (part 2)
Malik’s thick cock dragged out of her almost all the way, then slammed back in hard enough to make her tits swing. Raven’s breasts were full and heavy, the kind that spilled over a man’s hands, with dark nipples that tightened into stiff peaks when she was truly turned on. They bounced hard with every thrust. Her ass was round and plush, the soft cheeks rippling each time Malik’s hips met them. Between her legs her pussy was smooth, puffy from use, the lips shiny and parted around the dark, veined shaft stretching her open.Xavier pulled his cock from her mouth and stepped back just far enough to watch. His cock was long and heavy, the same rich dark shade as the rest of him, the head flared and already slick with her spit. A thick vein ran along the top. It twitched when he stroked it slowly.“Look at that ass,” Malik groaned, both hands spreading her open so he could watch his cock disappear. “Soft as hell. And this pussy… fuck… she’s gripping me like she doesn’t want to let go.”R
Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy Black Daddies’ Private Collection (part 1)
Raven Ellis had performed in front of cameras since she was twenty. By twenty-four she had her own fan club, a growing list of industry awards, and a reputation for taking cock better than most girls in the business. What she did not have was an invitation to The Obsidian Room.The lounge sat on the top floor of a private high-rise with no public listing. Membership was by sponsorship only. Raven’s sponsor had been anonymous. The message had arrived through her agency: one night, exclusive clientele, extreme discretion, compensation large enough to make her manager stop mid-sentence. She had said yes before the email finished loading.She arrived in a short black dress and heels that clicked against marble. The host checked her name, took her phone, and led her through a set of smoked-glass doors into a space of low light, dark leather, and the quiet clink of crystal. Most of the men were older, well-dressed, and speaking in the low tones of people who never needed to raise their voic
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