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Groomed?
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2025-11-25 08:00:54Morning sun slips through the wide windows of my new apartment. Golden light spills over the scattered moving boxes. It lands on the laptop that sits closed on the desk. That machine has been my lifeline for months. I shut it down last night in a haze of tension. The air feels thick. It carries the faint spice from yesterday’s tacos. There’s also the damp scent of rain that still lingers outside. The smell is a quiet reminder of the storm that brews inside me.
I wake up on the couch. My body is stiff from the awkward position. Victor’s shirt clings to my skin. The fabric is soft, but it is damp with sweat from restless dreams. My phone buzzes on the coffee table. The screen lights up with a flood of notifications. I grab it quickly. My stomach twists as I glance at the blog stats. “Whispers in the Dark” has hit forty thousand views. That should feel like a victory. A new alert stops me cold.I sit up straight. The leather couch creaks under my weight. I open the ap
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In My Professor's Arms Groomed?
Morning sun slips through the wide windows of my new apartment. Golden light spills over the scattered moving boxes. It lands on the laptop that sits closed on the desk. That machine has been my lifeline for months. I shut it down last night in a haze of tension. The air feels thick. It carries the faint spice from yesterday’s tacos. There’s also the damp scent of rain that still lingers outside. The smell is a quiet reminder of the storm that brews inside me.I wake up on the couch. My body is stiff from the awkward position. Victor’s shirt clings to my skin. The fabric is soft, but it is damp with sweat from restless dreams. My phone buzzes on the coffee table. The screen lights up with a flood of notifications. I grab it quickly. My stomach twists as I glance at the blog stats. “Whispers in the Dark” has hit forty thousand views. That should feel like a victory. A new alert stops me cold.I sit up straight. The leather couch creaks under my weight. I open the ap
In My Professor's Arms Watch My Back?
Morning sun slips through the wide windows of my new apartment. It paints soft golden streaks across the scattered moving boxes. The light also dances over my laptop, which sits open on the coffee table like a loyal soldier. I crashed on the couch last night after hours of rivalry-fueled typing. The air still carries a faint whiff of yesterday’s pizza grease. It mixes with the crisp scent of dawn that filters in from outside. I wake up slowly. My neck feels stiff from the awkward angle. Victor’s shirt twists around my body. The fabric stays warm and soft against my skin. I stretch my arms high above my head. My joints pop in protest. I reach for my phone on the floor. The screen lights up with a flood of notifications.Thirty thousand views on “Whispers in the Dark.” My heart races with excitement. The competition feels like a live wire buzzing under my skin. Ivy’s “Velvet Secrets” sits right behind me, nipping at my heels. I shuffle to the kitchen. The tiles feel cold unde
In My Professor's Arms Twenty-Eight Thousand Views
Morning sun spills through the wide windows of my new apartment. It paints golden streaks across half-unpacked boxes and the laptop still glowing on my desk. The screen shows the tail end of last night’s writing marathon. The air smells like leftover curry from yesterday. It mixes with the clean bite of rain drumming against the glass. The soft patter tugs me fully awake.I stretch hard. My joints pop in protest. Victor’s white shirt slides off one shoulder. The cotton is worn soft from a hundred washes. It carries his woody cologne and something warmer, something that settles low in my belly. My phone vibrates on the nightstand. The screen lights up with notifications. My pulse jumps. The blog stats stare back at me. “Whispers in the Dark” just hit twenty thousand views. Ivy’s latest piece, “Velvet Secrets,” is climbing faster. Her numbers tick upward like a taunt.I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The hardwood floor is cool against my bare feet. I shuffle
In My Professor's Arms Competition Thrill
Morning sunlight pours through the wide windows of my new apartment. It splashes golden light across the scattered moving boxes and the glowing laptop on my desk. The air carries a faint buzz from the city waking up below. I catch a whiff of fresh bread drifting up from the bakery downstairs. My stomach growls in response. I sit curled up in Victor’s oversized shirt. The fabric feels soft and warm against my skin. His woody scent clings to every thread. It pulls me straight back to our wild night at Aurora Press. I sip my coffee. The bitter heat slides down my throat. I hit refresh on my blog, “Whispers in the Dark.” The numbers explode before my eyes. Five thousand views. Then ten thousand. Likes and comments flood in like a tidal wave. They all spark from the steamy post I dropped about Victor last night. My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my fingertips. I lean back against the couch. It creaks under my weight. I scroll through the feedback. One comment reads, “S
In My Professor's Arms Sugar Kisses
Morning sun pours through the wide windows of the Aurora Press office. I wake early, perched on the edge of the desk where we wrecked each other last night. The wood feels cool against my bare thighs. Golden light spills everywhere, turning the scattered papers into tiny rafts of gold.The air still carries the thick, heady musk of our sex. It mixes with the sharp scent of fresh coffee brewing in the corner machine. I reach for Victor’s discarded shirt and pull it over my naked body. The cotton is soft, still warm from his skin, and it smells like his woody cologne. I inhale deeply and feel my pulse kick between my legs.My fingers fly across the laptop keys. The clack is steady, almost musical. I pour every filthy, perfect moment of last night into a new post for “Whispers in the Dark.” The words come out raw and dripping with heat. I write about the way he stretched me open, the way he growled my name, the way he made me come so hard I saw stars. Every line is a
In My Professor's Arms Multiple Orgasms
The private office at Aurora Press pulses with the raw heat of our bodies locked together. City lights seep through the half-drawn blinds. They cast a golden shimmer across the desk and dance over my sweat-slicked skin. I lie on my back with my legs spread wide. My pussy drips with desperate need. Victor’s thick cock hovers at my entrance. Its swollen head glistens from the slick juices we have already created with our relentless rhythm. Romance burns fierce in his dark eyes. It appears like a beautiful flame. His love shows in every single touch. He pauses with his chest heaving against mine. His hot breath fans across my neck. My heart races wildly. My tits bounce with each shallow breath I take. My nipples feel raw and aching from everything we have done so far. He smiles at me. The expression holds a tender edge beneath his obvious hunger. Then he thrusts deep inside me. His cock slides in all the way. The veins pulse against my inner walls. The he
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