FAZER LOGINAs an adult film actress, I used to take thick cock for a living. Men who lasted hours, stretched me open, and made me squirt until my legs shook. Then I walked away. Married a rich, gentle man who knew every dirty video and still chose me. New city. New face. New name. A quiet mansion and clean life. It should have been enough. But It wasn’t. My husband finishes too fast. Five minutes and he’s done, soft, already asleep while I’m still aching and dripping. I cry. I beg for more but he tells me to manage. So I buy toys. Big realistic ones. I fuck myself raw on the bed while he’s at work, but my pussy still feels empty afterward. One evening the doorbell rings. I’m alone, already wet from my own fingers. I open the door in nothing but a towel. The delivery guy is young, handsome, thick in all the right places. I drop the towel, drop to my knees, and suck him until he’s hard as steel. Then I bend over the bed and tell him not to show mercy. He fucks me hard and deep, exactly the way I need. I’m moaning, pushing back, so close… That’s when the door opens. And that’s only the start. Another one happened the morning of my wedding. After my wedding people who I've worked with on set began reaching out to me for a scene or a night stand. People who shouldn’t touch me. Rooms that should have stayed private. Secrets that refuse to stay buried. I thought I could control the hunger but I was wrong. Warning: This story contains explicit, raw, capturing scenes that will make it hard for you to drop.
Ver maisThe door was still open. Ethan stood in the doorway. He did not move. He did not speak. He just stared. I was bent over the side of the bed, hands flat on the mattress, ass pushed out. The delivery man’s thick cock was still buried deep inside me. He had not stopped. He didn't notice my husband at the entrance yet. He kept thrusting hard and fast, exactly the way I had told him to. Each stroke filled me completely. The stretch was perfect. The force was perfect. My pussy gripped him tight and wet. My tits swayed under me. Sweat ran down my back. I was so close to coming that my legs were already shaking. I looked straight at my husband. For a few long seconds I did not stop either. The delivery man was giving me what Ethan never could. Real size. Real stamina. Real force. The kind of fucking that reached the empty place inside me and filled it. I have wanted this kind feeling ever since I stopped being a pornstar. I thought my husband here was going to be feeling that urge deep
I looked at the time. It was not yet time for Ethan to be back from the office. “Who could it be?” I whispered. My fingers were still inside me. The screen still showed my younger self taking a thick cock deep. My nightgown was pushed up around my waist. My thighs were wet and sticky. The knock came again, louder this time. I pulled my hand free, wiped it on the robe I had left on the couch, and stood up fast. My legs felt shaky. I grabbed the towel from the chair, wrapped it loosely around my body, and walked down the hall. Each step made my thighs slide against each other. I could feel my own mess drying on my skin. The ache had not gone away. If anything, watching those old scenes had made it worse. I opened the front door. A young man stood there holding a package. Handsome. Maybe mid-twenties. Dark hair, strong arms under his short-sleeve shirt, and a polite smile that faded a little when he saw me in just the towel. “Package for the house,” he said, holding it out and re
I woke up the next morning still on the couch downstairs. My neck hurt from the way I slept on the couch. Ethan came down looking for me around seven. He found me curled up under the robe and sat on the edge of the cushion. “You didn’t sleep in the room with me,” he said. His voice was soft. “Everything okay?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts.” He reached over and brushed hair from my face. “Yesterday was a lot. We’ll get better at this. I promise.” I wanted to believe him. I really did. The first week after the wedding stayed the same. Ethan would come to bed, kiss me, touch me carefully, then slide inside. He moved with that same gentle rhythm. Always kind. Always finished too soon. I tried different things. I got on top. I asked him to go harder. I pulled him deeper with my legs. Nothing changed the outcome. Five minutes at most and he would groan, spill inside me, and roll over with a tired smile. By the third week I started crying and be
The knock on the door made my whole body freeze. The young man behind me stopped moving at once. His thick cock was still buried deep inside me after only four strokes. I could feel every inch of him stretching me open. My legs shook. Wetness ran down my thighs under the lifted wedding dress.“Riley? Are you almost ready?”It was my father’s voice. Calm and familiar. “They’re about to start downstairs. Everyone’s waiting.”Panic hit me hard. I looked over my shoulder at the young man. His eyes were wide. He pulled out of me fast. The sudden empty feeling made me bite my lip. I dropped the front of my dress and it fell back around my legs. He didn't come in with any pants so I told him to hide in my cabinet and leave when I'm out of the room. I quickly grabbed my wet panties from the carpet and stuffed them into the small drawer of the vanity. My heart slammed against my ribs.“Just a minute, Dad,” I called out. My voice sounded higher than normal. “I’m putting on the last things.”


















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