Mag-log inI kept the collar on and the plug in for three full days. Marcus left Monday morning after another long night of using every hole until I could barely walk. Before he walked out he pushed the thick black plug back into my ass, wiped the excess lube and cum on my thigh, and tugged the collar once. “Text me,” he said. “Every time.” I did. Tuesday afternoon at my desk I came with the plug shifting inside me while I rubbed my clit under my skirt. Sent him a photo of my wet fingers and the base of the plug between my cheeks in the office bathroom stall. He replied with one word: *Good.* Wednesday night I came twice—once in the shower with the water beating on my clit and the plug locked deep, once later on the couch with three fingers in my cunt and the collar pulled tight in my other hand. Both times I sent him the evidence. Both times he answered the same way. Thursday he showed up at 9:15 without warning. The key turned. I was already naked on the bed, plug in, collar on, legs s
I woke to the weight of his hand between my legs. Morning light cut through the half-closed blinds in thin stripes across the bed. Marcus was already hard against the back of my thigh, breath warm on my neck. His fingers moved slow, two of them sliding through the sticky mess he’d left in me hours earlier, then pushing inside. I was sore. Swollen. Still open from the night. The collar sat tight around my throat; I hadn’t taken it off. “You’re awake,” he said, voice rough with sleep. I didn’t answer. Just pushed back against his hand. He added a third finger and fucked me with them in lazy thrusts while his thumb circled my clit. The wet sound filled the quiet room. My hips started moving on their own. He kept the pace steady until my breathing changed, then pulled his fingers free, lifted my top leg, and guided his cock to my entrance. He pushed in slow. Every inch dragged against sore walls. I hissed. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the root, hips flush against my ass. One
I kept the collar on all day. It sat heavy around my neck, the metal ring cool against my skin every time I moved. The plug stayed in too—thick, constant pressure that made me shift in my chair at work, thighs pressed together, already wet by noon. By the time I got home I was aching. I showered, left the plug in, put the collar back on, and waited naked on the edge of the bed. The key turned at 9:48. Marcus walked in carrying a small overnight bag and locked the door behind him. He dropped the bag, looked at me—collar still buckled, plug base visible between my cheeks when I stood—and gave a short nod. “Good.” He didn’t waste time. Shirt off. Jeans off. Boots kicked aside. His cock was already half-hard, heavy between his legs. He walked over, hooked two fingers in the ring of the collar, and pulled me up into a hard kiss. Tongue deep, teeth scraping my lower lip. When he pulled back his eyes were dark. “On the bed. Face down. Ass up.” I climbed on, chest to the mattress, kne
I left the door locked. No tank top this time. Just bare skin and the low ache still lingering in my ass from the night before. I’d cleaned up after he left, but every time I sat down I felt the ghost of him—thick, deep, the way he’d pushed his cum back inside me like he didn’t want any of it to escape. My pussy stayed wet all day thinking about what “something else” meant. The key turned at 10:02. Marcus stepped in carrying a black duffel bag. He locked the door, set the bag on the floor, and looked me over. Naked. Standing in the middle of the living room. Legs slightly apart. Nipples already tight. “Good girl,” he said. No smile. Just that low voice that made my stomach flip. He dropped to one knee, unzipped the bag, and pulled out a thick black leather collar with a metal ring at the front. Next came a short leash. Then a pair of heavy cuffs connected by a short chain. Last, a fat black plug with a flared base and a bottle of lube. My mouth went dry. “Turn around.” I did.
I left the door locked again.Same thin tank top. No panties this time. Just the soft cotton brushing my bare pussy every time I shifted on the couch. I’d been wet since late afternoon, thinking about the way he’d looked at the mess between my legs before he left. The way he’d pushed his cum back inside me like he was claiming it.The key turned at 10:07.Marcus stepped in, locked the door behind him, and dropped a small paper bag on the table. He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at me—legs crossed, tank top riding up, the dark strip of hair between my thighs visible when I uncrossed them on purpose.“You came,” I said.“Told you I would.” His voice was rougher than last night. He pulled his shirt off in one motion. Broad chest, dark hair, a thin scar under his left collarbone. He toed off his boots, unbuckled his belt, and let the jeans fall. No underwear. His cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy against his thigh.He walked over, stood between my knees, and looked down. “
I heard the key turn in the lock just after ten.I’d been waiting for it all night. Pacing the living room in nothing but the thin white tank top that barely covered my tits and a pair of black panties that were already damp between my legs. The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional car outside. My landlord, Marcus, had texted earlier: *Coming by to check the sink. Leave the door unlocked if you’re out.* I didn’t leave it unlocked. I left it locked on purpose. I wanted to hear that key.The door opened. He stepped in, closing it behind him with a soft click. Tall, broad shoulders under a plain black T-shirt, dark jeans, work boots still on. Early forties, salt-and-pepper stubble, the kind of man who’d fixed my broken window last month and then stood too close while he explained the bill. I’d caught him looking at my ass when I bent over to pick up a dropped pen. He’d looked away, but not fast enough.Tonight he didn’t look away.“You left the doo
*A New Collection I was sprawled across my bed in nothing but the thin silk robe I’d stolen from Mom’s closet, the fabric slipping off one shoulder as I read Tyler’s latest text for the third time. “Babe, I’m dying over here. Send me something filthy so I can stroke to it before I lose my mind.”
The hotel room door barely clicked shut before hands were all over me. Not gentle. Not careful. Hungry. Mike shoved me backward onto the nearest bed so hard my back bounced on the mattress. The lamp cast ugly yellow light across the room, but nobody cared about romance. My head was still spinni
*A New Collection: After being in a four years relationship with Jake, Emily catches him and her bestfriend hooking up. Heartbroken - Leading her to get complicated with some nasty strengers in the bar ready to split her open if she asked for it.(This is a continuation from my last book - Unheard P
Mark stood there in the near-dark, the faint glow from my nightlight catching the hard line of his jaw and the massive bulge straining the front of his gray sweatpants. He didn’t look shocked nor angry. He just looked… hungry. Like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. He stepped all the wa







