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 summer heat was heavy, thick and still in the old house. My stepdad, Arthur, was usually gone. He was an architect, always flying off to new places for big buildings. But this summer, he was home. All the time. It was strange. But I liked it. He was handsome, with eyes that saw everything and a quiet way that made me feel safe. I was sixteen. My body felt new. It had curves now, and big breasts that felt heavy. I didn't know what to do with them.He worked in his study most days. I tried to draw in the living room. Our talks used to be short. Now, he asked about my day. He listened. Really listened. It was different.Last night, the night before the storm, I was bored. I went to his study. He was on his computer. He looked at me."Bored, Eliza?" he asked."Yeah," I said.He nodded. He turned the screen a little. "Want to see something interesting?"I came closer. He was watching a video. It was a man and a woman. They were naked. They were doing things. Their bodies moved together
The following evening was a torment of anticipation. Every shadow seemed to hold Leo’s silhouette, every creak of the old house, his presence. My pussy throbbed with a dull, constant ache, a phantom limb craving his touch. I wore a loose nightgown, but no underwear, hoping to quell the desperate sensitivity between my legs, yet secretly welcoming the feeling of freedom.The back door creaked open just after midnight. He moved with silent grace, appearing in my living room like a shadow given form. He didn't need to knock. He knew he was welcome. His gaze, even in the dim light, was piercing, consuming."Evelyn," he murmured, his voice a low, husky sound that sent shivers down my spine. "You waited for me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact, of his absolute certainty.I couldn't speak. My throat was tight, my breath catching in my chest. All I could do was stare, my eyes wide, mesmerized by his quiet power.He walked towards me, his movements fluid, unhurried. He stopped
The quiet hum of the old house was a comforting sound, a stark contrast to the bustling halls of Northwood High. I was Evelyn Reed, twenty-eight, and the newest intern in the English department. Stepping into the shoes of the abruptly departed Ms. Davies had been a whirlwind. Most evenings, I found solace in my modest rental, grading papers, trying to ignore the niggling anxieties about my temporary status. I was a little curvier than I’d like—a soft stomach, generous D-cup breasts that strained against my professional blouses, and a full, rounded backside that always seemed to attract unwanted attention. Tonight, I was in worn sweats, curled on the sofa with a mug of herbal tea, lost in a student essay.A subtle creak. Not the usual settling of old wood. I froze. My heart jumped, thudding against my ribs. I lived alone, and I was sure I’d locked the back door.The shadows by the kitchen entrance shifted. A figure emerged, tall and slender, illuminated faintly by the living room lamp.
The bathroom air, thick with rising steam, choked me. Michael stood in the doorway, a solid, unmoving shadow. My blouse hung open, my skirt pooled at my ankles, my chest heaved with a sharp intake of breath. The heat flushing my face wasn't just the bath’s warmth. It was raw shame, stark recognition, and a terrifying, exhilarating pulse of desire that shot straight to my pussy.His eyes, the color of gunmetal, moved over my naked body, a slow, deliberate sweep that stripped away any pretense of innocence I might have clung to.He said nothing. He didn't have to. The silence screamed louder than any accusation. It crackled, heavy with a primal, predatory hunger that mirrored the one I’d just left in Father Elias’s study.My body, still humming from the priest’s unsettling blessing, responded instantly. My nipples hardened, aching with a familiar sensitivity, and my pussy, damp and swollen, gave a deep, insistent throb. This wasn't just him seeing me. This was a direct, undeniable chall
The bassline pulsed directly into my bones, a low, guttural thrum that vibrated through my entire body as I pushed through the swirling mass of bodies. My best friend, Serena, had once again convinced me to venture into one of her infamous "hunts"—an exclusive, dimly lit club known for its liberated atmosphere and a clientele that embraced their deepest desires. I wasn't usually this bold, but tonight, something was different. My dress, a deep sapphire blue, clung to my curves, its plunging neckline barely containing my enormous breasts, which felt particularly heavy and sensitive tonight. I knew they drew attention, pulling stares from every corner of the room, and a thrilling, illicit awareness bloomed in my stomach.Serena was already lost in the crowd, undoubtedly flirting with some dark-haired stranger. I finally reached the ornate bar, ordering a potent whiskey on the rocks. My phone glowed in my hand as I checked my ride-share app; a forty-minute wait. Just enough time for this
David’s fingers continued their relentless assault on Maya’s pussy, his thumb circling her engorged clit with a precision that was both agonizing and exquisite. He felt her hips buck against his hand, a silent, desperate plea for more. The wetness coating his fingers was overwhelming, a testament to her profound arousal. He could feel the delicate folds of her labia, swollen and slick, parting under his insistent touch. Her entire body was trembling, a raw, exposed nerve.“You’re so wet, little girl,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper against her ear, his lips brushing her hot skin. “So ready for Daddy, aren’t you?”“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered, her voice barely a breath, her head thrown back, exposing the vulnerable curve of her throat. “So ready. Please. I need you inside me. Now.”He pulled his hand away, the sudden absence of his touch making her gasp, a sound of pure deprivation. He watched her eyes, wide and pleading, as he slowly unzipped his sweatpants. His cock, a