ログイン"I'm close," he said."Please. Please. Please."He groaned. It was a deep sound, torn from his chest. He shoved deep and held there. I felt his cock pulse. Once. Twice. Three times. Hot and thick. Filling my ass. I felt each spurt. Each twitch. He stayed inside me for a long moment. Both of us breathing hard. Sweat dripped off his forehead onto my back.Then he pulled out.I collapsed against the wall. My legs gave out. I slid down to the floor. My asshole clenched around nothing. His cum dripped out of me. Onto the floor. Onto the burst bag of flour. White and sticky.Richard tucked himself back into his pants. Zipped up. Buckled his belt. He looked down at me like I was something he had used and would use again."Clean this up," he said. "And don't tell anyone."He walked out. Left the door open.I sat on the floor. My whole body shook. My ass throbbed. My cunt was still wet, aching, empty. I could feel his cum leaking out of me, hot against my skin.I stayed in the pantry for a lon
DUSTI wiped his cum off my stomach with the paper towel. It was thick and white, smearing across my skin instead of coming clean. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. My thighs were slick with a mixture of his spit and my own wetness. My ass throbbed where he had slapped me, a hot pulse that matched my heartbeat.Richard hadn't moved. He stood over me, still half-hard, his cock glistening with the mess we had made. The head was red and swollen. A string of cum hung from the tip, stretching down like a loose thread. He didn't wipe it away. He wanted me to see it."You want more," he said. His voice was low. Gravelly. Not a question.I looked up at him from the floor. My knees were sore from kneeling. My jaw ached from when he shoved himself down my throat. I could still taste myself on his skin."Yes," I said."Say it.""I want more.""More what?" He stepped closer. His bare foot landed in the puddle of cum that had dripped onto the tile. He didn't seem to notice.I swallowed. My throat wa
I felt his cock pulse. Once. Twice. Three times. Hot and thick. Filling my ass. I felt each spurt. Each twitch. He stayed inside me for a long moment. Both of us breathing hard. Sweat dripped off his forehead onto my back.Then he pulled out.I collapsed against the wall. My legs gave out. I slid down to the floor. My asshole clenched around nothing. His cum dripped out of me. Onto the floor. Onto the burst bag of flour. White and sticky.Richard tucked himself back into his pants. Zipped up and buckled his belt. He looked down at me as if I were something he had used and would use again."Clean this up," he said. "And don't tell anyone."He walked out. Left the door open.I sat on the floor. My whole body shook. My ass throbbed. My cunt was still wet, aching, and empty. I could feel his cum leaking out of me, hot against my skin.I stayed in the pantry for a long time. I don't know how long. I cleaned the floor with paper towels. I wiped the flour off my skin. My hands were sti
DUSTI wiped his cum off my stomach with the paper towel. It was thick and white, smearing across my skin instead of coming clean. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. My thighs were slick with a mixture of his spit and my own wetness. My ass throbbed where he had slapped me, a hot pulse that matched my heartbeat.Richard hadn't moved. He stood over me, still half-hard, his cock glistening with the mess we had made. The head was red and swollen. A string of cum hung from the tip, stretching down like a loose thread. He didn't wipe it away. He wanted me to see it."You want more," he said. His voice was low. Gravelly. Not a question.I looked up at him from the floor. My knees were sore from kneeling. My jaw ached from when he shoved himself down my throat. I could still taste myself on his skin."Yes," I said."Say it.""I want more.""More what?" He stepped closer. His bare foot landed in the puddle of cum that had dripped onto the tile. He didn't seem to notice.I swallowed. My throat wa
DUSTI went back to the arena the next day.Practice ended at eight. Same as always. I sat in the stands, watched the players file out. Jake waved at me from across the ice. I waved back. My eyes went to Coach Harker.He stood by the boards, clipboard in hand, talking to another coach. He didn't look at me. Not once.I waited until the stands emptied. Until the cleaning crew came and swept the aisles. Until the lights dimmed.I walked to the locker room door. Locked.I leaned against the wall, in the same spot as yesterday. My heart pounded. My thighs pressed together. I thought about his hands. His mouth. The way his cock felt inside me.The door didn't open I waited thirty minutes until my hopes were drained and I had to leave disappointed.Jake called when I got home."Hey, babe. My mom wants you to come for dinner tonight." I flopped onto my bed, still in my skirt from practice."Tonight?""Yeah. Nothing fancy. Just family. She's making that chicken thing you like." I stared at
DUSTI hated waiting in the arena after practice.The ice was already melting, puddles forming at the edges of the rink. The stands were empty. The only sound was the hum of the cooling system and the distant echo of showers running in the locker room.My boyfriend Jake was still in there. Captain of the hockey team. Golden boy. His bag would take forever because he had to talk to everyone, shake every hand, make every joke.I leaned against the cold concrete wall outside the locker room door and scrolled through my phone. Nothing new. Just the same boring posts from the same boring people.The door opened. I looked up, expecting Jake.It was his dad.Coach Harker.He was tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair going grey at the temples. His jaw was always set, like he was permanently angry about something. He wore his team jacket zipped to the neck, and his arms were crossed over his chest."Dust," he said. His voice was low. Flat. No warmth in it."Coach.""You waiting for Jake?""Yes.""H
It's exactly twenty-four hours since the hot burglar fucked me. Since he had his big black cock inside of me, screwing my wet pussy like it was some wild leaking nuts. Hard.Like he owned it. And for the wildest hours after, all I did was fantasize about him. Argue myself with good reasons why I
“Innocent and ravishing… I want her.An old ugly, bald, and pot-bellied man grins, revealing his disgusting tobacco teeth. He drags on his cigar and puffs like he’s the bad guy.I cover my breasts with my flexed arm and my body with my palm. Still, he tries to bend lower and peek what’s underneath
“We have a message for your boss,” Vladimir groans. “It will be written on your fucking pussy.” A shiver is caught in my throat. I hear their footsteps near and I shut my eyes… my body has its own reaction, I feel precum embarrassingly streak down my pussy. The smooth feel of a fingertip tracing
“Strip.” Voice as cold as ice rings an instruction. It's Vladimir, the Russian god. His eyes send thrills down my spine, and dirty thoughts of what his coarse fingers and rumored monster cock would do to my tight pussy. The nasty thoughts make my thighs involuntarily clench, holding back from drip







