Eleanor gasped, her body shaking, Alaric’s thick cock buried deep inside her. The vibrating ball pressed against his shaft, sending tremors through her entire core. It was intense, overwhelming, a searing pleasure she’d never imagined.
She clung to the ropes that held her wrists, her head thrown back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He watched her, his eyes dark with raw possessiveness. He didn’t move, just let her feel the incredible fullness, the stretch, the undeniable reality of him inside her. The rain outside continued its relentless drumming, a wild symphony to her awakening. After a long moment, he slowly pulled out, leaving her throbbing, aching, and empty. A whimper escaped her lips. The vibrating ball still hummed inside her, a constant reminder of the pleasure that had just been there. “Are you done, Professor?” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. The words just tumbled out, a strange mix of disappointment and desperate hope for more. A dark eyebrow arched on his face. He zipped up his pants, covering his now-softened erection, but his eyes never left hers. “Done? You didn’t like it, Eleanor?” His voice was low, laced with a dangerous edge. Eleanor’s cheeks flushed. She started to stutter, trying to find the right words. “I… I mean… it was… it was a lot, sir. Very… intense.” She couldn’t lie. It had been intense. But something in her, a new, hungry part, yearned for something deeper, something more. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her bound form. “Look me in the eye, Eleanor,” he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t like it.” Her gaze met his, and she couldn’t look away. His eyes were like black holes, pulling her in, demanding her honesty. The vibrating ball inside her pulsed, mirroring the frantic beat of her heart. “It’s just that… I expected more,” she finally managed, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her voice was barely a whisper, laced with a surprising boldness. “It was… it was good, Professor. But… it felt like… an introduction.” A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. “An introduction, eh? So, my little student, you’re telling me you crave the full curriculum? The advanced course?” Eleanor swallowed hard, her eyes wide. She didn’t know what she was saying, only that her body was screaming for him to take her further, to push her past every boundary she’d ever known. “Yes, sir. Please.” He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “Good. I knew you had it in you. Now, for the next lesson. We’re going to get even dirtier.” He untied her wrists from the pillar, and Eleanor’s arms fell to her sides, weak and trembling. He then took her hand, pulling her gently but firmly towards the massive mahogany desk. Her eyes widened as she saw a small, velvet-lined box open on its surface, revealing an array of gleaming metal and soft leather. More toys. “Kneel, Eleanor,” he commanded, his voice soft but firm. She obeyed without question, her knees hitting the plush rug. He stood over her, his presence utterly dominating. Her eyes were level with his groin, where his trousers still bulged slightly. She couldn't help but stare, remembering the incredible fullness of him inside her. He unzipped his pants again, and his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, pulsing with life. Eleanor gasped, her eyes widening. It was even bigger than she remembered, a dark, veined column that seemed impossibly huge. Her throat felt tight just looking at it. “Don’t be scared, little one,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “It’ll fit. You just need to learn how to take it.” He took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up until her eyes met his. “This is about trust, Eleanor. About surrender. Are you ready to trust your professor?” She nodded, her throat suddenly dry. She was terrified, but the hunger inside her was louder than any fear. “Good girl,” he praised. He then took his cock in his hand, guiding the massive head towards her mouth. Eleanor’s breath hitched. It looked so freaking huge, she wondered how it would ever fit. “Open wide, Eleanor,” he commanded. “Take it all. Don’t hold back.” She opened her mouth, her lips trembling. He pushed, slowly, deliberately. The thick head pressed against her teeth, her tongue. She gagged, a small, choked sound, as he pushed further, filling her mouth, stretching her jaw. “Nghh… umm… please, sir…” she tried to speak, but his cock was too big, too overwhelming. It tasted salty, musky, intensely male. He pushed deeper, until the base of his shaft was pressing against her chin. Eleanor choked, her eyes watering, her throat burning. It felt like he was going to split her jaw. She could feel the rough texture of him, the pulsing heat, filling her completely. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal. “Take it all, Eleanor. Swallow your professor. Let it slide down your fucking throat.” He pulled back slightly, letting her gasp for air, then pushed again, deeper, forcing her to take more of him. He moved his hips, slowly at first, then with more force, thrusting into her mouth, using her throat as his personal pleasure tunnel. Eleanor whimpered, tears streaming down her face, not from pain, but from the sheer, overwhelming sensation. Her hands instinctively went to his thighs, gripping them tightly as he fucked her mouth, her throat. She could feel his balls slapping against her chin with each powerful thrust, the rhythmic thud against her jaw. He continued to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate, making her choke and gasp for air, but never letting her pull away. He was teaching her, forcing her to submit, to take every inch of him. He pulled back, then plunged again, making her gag, her body convulsing with each deep thrust. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his cock from her mouth, leaving her gasping, drooling, and utterly spent. Her throat was sore, her jaw ached, but a strange, powerful sense of accomplishment washed over her. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He wiped her mouth with the back of his hand, then reached into the velvet box. He pulled out a soft, leather blindfold. “Now, for the next step in your education. Some lessons are best learned without distractions.” He gently tied the blindfold over her eyes, plunging her into darkness. Eleanor felt a surge of fear, but also a heightened sense of anticipation. Her other senses sharpened. The scent of him, the feel of the vibrating ball inside her, the throbbing ache between her legs. “Don’t worry, little one,” his voice was close, a low rumble against her ear. “I’m still here. I’m going to make sure you understand everything. Every single fucking nuance.” She felt his hands on her, guiding her back to the pillar. He tied her wrists above her head again, securing them firmly. Her body was stretched, exposed, vulnerable. The vibrating ball hummed a constant rhythm deep inside her. “The vibrating ball is still inside you, isn’t it, Eleanor?” he whispered, his voice laced with amusement. “Good. Now, I’m going to add another element to your lesson.” She felt a cool, smooth object press against her clitoris. Then, a soft buzz. He had brought out another toy, a small, powerful vibrator, and was pressing it directly against her most sensitive spot. Eleanor cried out, a muffled moan escaping her lips. The combined sensations were overwhelming: the vibrating ball deep inside her, the intense buzz against her clitoris, and the memory of his huge cock in her mouth. Her body convulsed, her hips bucking against the ropes. He leaned in, his voice a low growl. “Feel that, Eleanor? That’s what true understanding feels like. That’s what happens when you let go. When you truly surrender. Let yourself go, little whore.” He continued to work her with the vibrator, his fingers occasionally brushing against her blonde curls, teasing her, driving her higher and higher. She was moaning loads, the thunder outside covering her cries, her body arching and straining against her bonds. Her pussy was slick, gushing with her desire. She felt his fingers slide into her pussy again, pushing past the vibrating ball, joining the external vibrator in a symphony of pleasure. He fucked her with his fingers, deep and rhythmic, while his other hand continued to torment her clitoris. Eleanor was a mess of sensation, her body trembling, on the verge of shattering. Every nerve ending screamed with pleasure. She was no longer Eleanor Vance, the innocent, unsatisfied wife. She was just a body, a vessel for his pleasure, a student utterly consumed by her professor’s lesson. He pulled his fingers out, then the external vibrator. The sudden absence of stimulation left her aching, desperate. She whimpered, her body still shaking uncontrollably. Then, she felt him. His thick, hard cock pressed against her entrance, hot and heavy. She gasped, her breath catching. He pushed, slowly, deliberately, burying himself inside her again, filling her completely. The vibrating ball was still inside, now pressed against by his immense shaft, intensifying the sensation to an unbearable degree. He began to thrust, deep and rhythmic, fucking her with a primal intensity that left her breathless. Eleanor cried out, her body convulsing around him, meeting his every thrust with a desperate arch of her hips. The pain of her virginity giving way was long forgotten, replaced by an overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure. He fucked her relentlessly, driving her higher and higher, until her body tensed, her muscles spasmed, and a wave of pure, unadulterated orgasm ripped through her. She screamed, a raw, guttural sound, her body arching violently against the ropes, her pussy clenching around him. He groaned, his own body tensing, and then he too found his release, thrusting deep inside her as he came, filling her with his hot, sticky cum. He pulled out slowly, leaving her trembling, slick, and utterly spent. The blindfold was still on, but the darkness no longer felt frightening. It felt… safe. Intimate. He untied her wrists, and Eleanor’s arms fell, weak and heavy. She felt him lift her, gently, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers. He placed her gently on a plush leather sofa. She felt him remove the vibrating ball from inside her, and then the blindfold. Her eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light of the study. She looked at him, her professor, her dominant, her first. His hair was slightly disheveled, his eyes still dark with passion, a faint flush on his cheeks. He looked utterly satisfied. Eleanor felt a profound shift within her. The shame was gone, replaced by a strange sense of clarity, of understanding. She was no longer innocent, no longer stifled. She was free. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered, her voice still hoarse, but clear. She looked him directly in the eye, her gaze unwavering. “I understand better.”The night air was thick and warm, clinging to her skin as she padded barefoot from the guest house to the main house. The old place was quiet, only a few lamps on. He was in the living room, sprawled on the couch in a loose white tee and grey sweatpants, reading.She hesitated in the doorway.“Couldn’t sleep,” she murmured.He glanced up. His eyes swept over her — tank top, sleep shorts, bare legs — and lingered. Slowly, he shut the book. “Come here.”She crossed the room, heart pounding. The closer she got, the more she felt it — the heat in his gaze, the sharp tension humming between them. She sat at the far end of the couch. He reached out, hooked a finger in the hem of her shorts, and tugged gently.“Closer,” he said softly.She moved until her thigh touched his. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingertips dragging down her neck. Goosebumps rose on her arms.“You’re shaking,” he murmured.“I’m not,” she whispered — but her voice trembled.His hand slid low
The first snow of Christmas morning drifted lazily past the frosted windows, painting the world outside in pure white. Inside, the warm glow of the Christmas tree lights bathed the living room in gold and red. She knelt on the soft carpet, her big tits straining against the silky red bra, nipples brushing the lace as if teasing the world. Her skirt rode high over smooth thighs, and her panties were already damp, glistening with anticipation.She had been careful all year, innocent, shy, polite… but deep down, she knew what she wanted. And if Santa existed in the slightest way, he was about to deliver it.The door creaked. Her breath hitched.He appeared in the doorway, tall, dark, impossibly alluring. His eyes were fixed on her tits, her ass, and the curve of her thighs, lingering just enough to make her pulse pound. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.“Merry Christmas,” he said, voice low and teasing.She bit her lip, shyness flickering across her cheeks. “M-Merry Christmas…”He st
I had barely unpacked the first box when he appeared.“Need some help with that?” His voice was calm, low, confident—like he already knew I’d say yes.I froze, clutching the corner of the cardboard box like it was a shield. I’d just moved into this stupid apartment, and everything still smelled like new paint and cardboard. My chest fluttered, and my cheeks burned. “Uh… y-yes, please,” I stammered, blinking up at him.He stepped closer, broad shoulders filling the doorway, hands brushing mine as he lifted the box. My stomach lurched. He smelled… delicious. Not perfume, not like anything I knew—just him. Clean, warm, masculine. My knees went weak, and I almost dropped the box.“Careful,” he murmured, fingers brushing mine again as if it were nothing. “Don’t hurt yourself.”I nodded, too flustered to speak, thinking, He’s just being nice… right?He leaned down to set the box on the floor, and my eyes followed the movement, catching the curve of his chest under the tight shirt. “You know
The text came at 12:01 a.m. Leave the back door open. Six words. That was all. But my whole body went hot, my heart pounding like it wanted out of my chest. I stared at the screen, lips parted, bare legs curled under my blanket. My hand shook as I typed back, so slow, like if I didn’t send it, I could still pretend this wasn’t happening. O-okay. The reply looked stupid. Too small. Too eager. But my thumb had already pressed send. I crept out of bed, bare feet whispering against the floorboards, nightshirt clinging to my thighs. The house was quiet, so quiet, every sound louder than it should be—the creak of the stairs, the tick of the old clock, my own ragged breathing. By the time I reached the kitchen, my thighs were sticky. My panties damp. My clit throbbing. I slid the back door open just an inch, enough. Enough for him. My pulse raced so hard I had to grip the counter for balance. I should’ve gone back upstairs. Should’ve locked myself in my room. But I stood there waiting
I should’ve just ignored the knock. I should’ve stayed wrapped in steam and shampoo bubbles, dripping and safe. But I didn’t. I padded barefoot to the door in nothing but a damp towel, skin hot from the shower, hair clinging wet to my shoulders. When I pulled it open, my heart stopped. “Mr. Carter.” Our neighbor. Mid-forties. Married. Hands so big I always noticed when he mowed his lawn shirtless. The kind of man who looked at you once and made your stomach twist. He wasn’t supposed to be standing on our porch while I was half naked. He wasn’t supposed to be looking at me like that. “I just came to drop this off,” he said smoothly, holding up a brown envelope. His voice was calm, steady, but his eyes—his eyes weren’t. They slid down over me, over the towel barely covering the tops of my thighs, lingering at the swell of my breasts where the terry cloth clung damp. I swallowed, clutching the towel tighter. “Th-thanks. Um. I’ll—I’ll tell my mom you—” “Your mom’s not home.” His to
“Stay behind.”The words froze me at the door. My classmates spilled out into the hall, laughter and chatter echoing away until there was only silence and the thundering beat of my heart. I turned, clutching my bag like a shield, though it couldn’t protect me from what I already knew was coming.He stood at the front of the room, sleeves rolled up, his jaw tight, his eyes locked on me like I was prey that had wandered too close. A predator who had been patient too long.“Professor…” I whispered, throat dry, my voice shaking with nerves and something filthier.His head tilted, sharp, unyielding. “That’s Daddy for you.”The word slammed into me like a touch. Heat shot straight to my core, my panties soaking instantly. I’d been playing all day—short skirt, no bra, thighs brushing together as I sat in the front row, rubbing myself under the desk while keeping my eyes locked on him. And now he was calling me out, stripping me bare without lifting a finger.“Come here.”My legs trembled as