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Sex with my bully VI
publish date:
2026-08-16 02:58:04
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Dripping With Lust (A Collection Of Steamy Talesš„) Ā Ā Ā Sex with my bully VI
āI want you to fuck me until I canāt think. Please.āHe pushed in with one smooth, relentless thrust. The stretch burned in the best way; she was still sensitive from the first orgasm and the earlier fucking over the desk. A long, raw moan tore out of her throat.āAhāgodāyouāre so deepāāDave braced himself over her and began to move. Long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and met every thrust, moaning freely now that there was no party noise to worry about.āHarder,ā she begged. āFuck me harderāpleaseāāHe gave it to her. The bed frame creaked. The slap of skin on skin filled the room. Fionaās nails dug into his back. Every time he bottomed out she made a broken, helpless sound.āYou feel that?ā he growled against her ear. āThatās me owning this tight little pussy. Say it.āāYouāre owning itāfuckāyouāre owning my pussyāāāLouder.āāYouāre owning my fucking pussy!ā she cried, the words dissolving into another
Dripping With Lust (A Collection Of Steamy Talesš„) Ā Ā Ā Sex with my bully V
The rest of the party felt like it belonged to someone else.Fiona walked back into the living room with the ghost of Daveās hands still branded on her skin and the echo of her own broken moans still ringing in her ears. The music had not changed. The same clusters of people still laughed too loudly near the kitchen. Tyler still held court near the staircase. Nothing outside that locked study had shifted, yet everything inside her had.She felt different in her clothes. The jeans sat differently against her thighs. Every step reminded her how thoroughly he had taken her over that desk. Her glasses sat slightly crooked on her nose; she straightened them with fingers that still trembled.Dave did not hover. He drifted back into host mode, refilling cups, clapping shoulders, answering questions with that easy, half-lidded grin. But every so often his eyes found hers across the room. The look lasted only a second, yet it landed like a hand between her legs. She felt herself flush and l
Dripping With Lust (A Collection Of Steamy Talesš„) Ā Ā Ā Sex with my bully IV
He bottomed out and held still, giving her a second to adjust. His breathing was rough against the back of her neck.āYou take me so fucking well for someone who pretends she doesnāt want this.āāMove,ā she demanded. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. The desk rocked. Fiona moaned raw and open, the sound punched out of her on every thrust. He set a hard, steady paceā¦deep, punishing strokes that made her see white at the edges of her vision.āHarder,ā she gasped.Daveās hand fisted in her hair and pulled her head back. The new angle made every thrust hit deeper. She sobbed with pleasure.āListen to you. Quiet little nerd, begging for it.āāFuck you,ā she moaned, but she pushed back to meet every stroke, greedy for more.āYou are.ā He fucked her harder, the slap of skin on skin loud in the room. āYouāre taking every inch like you were made for it. Look at you dripping down your thighs.āāMoreāpleaseādonāt stopāāHe reached around and found her clit, rubbing tight ci
Dripping With Lust (A Collection Of Steamy Talesš„) Ā Ā Ā Sex with my bully III
Fiona stepped back into the living room with the empty soda cup still in her hand and the conversation in the study still looping in her head. The music had shifted again and the crowd had thickened. Bodies moved closer together. Laughter came sharper. She kept to the edges, the way she always did, but the wall no longer felt like safety. It felt like the place people put the girl they expected to leave.Dave was easy to find. He stood near the kitchen doorway with Marcus and a girl Fiona didnāt recognize, gesturing with his cup while he talked. When his eyes landed on her he paused mid-sentence, then finished whatever he was saying and detached himself from the group.He stopped in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her chin up.āStill here.āāStill here,ā she echoed.āMost people wouldāve bolted after Tylerās little commentary.āāIām not most people.āDaveās mouth curved. āNo. Youāre not.ā He glanced at the empty cup in her hand. āYou want the better bottle or are y
Dripping With Lust (A Collection Of Steamy Talesš„) Ā Ā Ā Sex with my bully II
Fiona took the campus shuttle to the edge of the residential streets and walked the last three blocks. Maple was a quiet road of older student houses, most of them with porches and uneven lawns. Number 214 was the loudest. A few people stood on the front steps with red cups. Someone had strung cheap string lights along the railing.She paused on the sidewalk and considered turning around. The rational part of her listed every reason this was a bad idea. The smaller, quieter part kept her moving forward.A girl she recognized from her literature seminar was on the porch and waved her up with the vague friendliness of someone who had already had two drinks. Inside, the house was warmer and louder than the night outside. The living room had been mostly cleared of furniture. A table near the kitchen held bottles and a stack of cups. People clustered in groups of three and four, talking over the music. She found a wall near the entrance and did what she always did: observed. Tyler wa
Dripping With Lust (A Collection Of Steamy Talesš„) Ā Ā Ā Sex with my bully
Fiona Langley had perfected the art of becoming invisible by the time she reached her junior year at Westbridge University. It was not a dramatic invisibility. She did not vanish in a puff of smoke or duck into shadows like a character in the novels she preferred to the campus social scene.Hers was quieter: the careful choice of seats at the back of lecture halls, the habit of walking with her chin slightly down and her earbuds in even when the playlist had ended, the way she timed her arrivals and departures so that the loudest clusters of students had already moved on.She was twenty, five-foot-four, with straight dark-brown hair she usually kept in a low ponytail and glasses that were practical rather than stylish. Her wardrobe consisted of well-worn jeans, oversized cardigans, and sneakers that had seen three semesters of rain. She carried a battered canvas tote instead of a backpack because the tote held more books and made less noise when she set it down. In high school the
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