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Best MAN’S SECRET PT 1
Isabella had been counting down to her wedding for eleven months. She had bought the perfect white dress, gotten her dream venue, nailed the cake testing.
Everything was perfect and ready except for her.
She had a sick fascination with her fiancé’s best friend Marcus. Every time he walked into the room, her body betrayed her.
Marcus was a very good best friend to Daniel, they’d been close since childhood and now he would be Daniel’s best man at their wedding which was in three days.
He was tall, handsome with striking blue eyes and had a very charismatic aura. He always wore clothes that showed off his toned body.
Whenever she heard him talk or he said her name in that low sexy voice, it made her involuntarily clench her thighs.
She told herself it was just pre-wedding nerves. But deep down she wanted one wild night before she settled into forever with Daniel. She wanted him inside her just once before she said I do.
The rehearsal dinner was Friday night. The whole wedding party crammed into Daniel’s parents’ sprawling backyard. Isabella wore a cream silk slip dress that had thin straps, low back, clinging in all the right places. She’d chosen it on purpose.
Marcus noticed her.
He stood across the lawn talking to Daniel, beer in hand, but his eyes kept finding her. He took slow drags down her body. When she crossed her legs on the garden bench, the dress rode high on her thigh and his jaw ticked.
Isabella hid her smile at his reaction while she kept on seducing him slowly.
She walked up to them moving her waist side to side slowly until she stood beside Daniel was oblivious, he was drunk on excitement, arm slung around her shoulders, kissing her temple every five minutes. “Can’t believe in three days you’re mine forever, babe.”
Isabella smiled, kissed him back. But her gaze slid to Marcus over Daniel’s shoulder.
Marcus looked away first.
Later, when the party thinned and people started drifting inside, Isabella slipped away to the guest house at the edge of the property. She needed air, or so she told herself.
The door was unlocked. She stepped inside, and turned on the lights.
The room smelled faintly of him, and his woodsy cologne. Marcus had been staying here all week to help with last-minute setup.
She shouldn’t have come, but she didn’t leave.
Soon footsteps sounded on the gravel path and the door opened.
Marcus froze when he saw her standing in the middle of the room.
“Isabella, you shouldn’t be here.” His voice was rough.
“I know,” she whispered.
He closed the door behind him, but didn’t lock it.
They stared at each other for a long beat, the air between them charging up.
“I’m getting married in three days,” she announced like she couldn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth.
“I know, you shouldn’t ruin it. You should go now.” Marcus said as he took one step closer.
“Yes, I should not ruin it, but I cannot get you out of my mind.” Her voice was so low, if the room wasn’t quiet, he would have missed it.
“And I’ve spent the last year trying not to think about what you’d feel like under me.” Marcus chuckled.
Her breath caught. “You’ve thought about it?”
“Every fucking day.” He took another step towards her.
He was close enough now she could feel the heat rolling off him. “Every time you laugh at one of Daniel’s jokes. Every time you bend over in those little sundresses at brunch. Every time you look at me like you’re imagining the same thing.”
Isabella’s heart slammed against her ribs. “I probably was.”
Marcus exhaled hard through his nose, he honestly couldn’t believe what was happening. “What were you imagining? Say it.”
“I want you.” The words tasted like sin and relief, she had finally said the words she’d be holding on to and carrying like a baggage.
“I want you inside me. Just once. Before I can’t anymore.”
He closed the distance in one stride. His mouth crashed down on hers with no gentleness, or hesitation.
His hands gripped her waist, yanking her against him so she felt every hard inch of his cock pressing through his slacks.
Isabella moaned into the kiss, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. His tongue claimed hers deeply, and hungrily.
One of his hand slid up her back, found the thin strap of her dress, tugged it down her shoulder. The silk pooled at her waist, baring her breasts.
“Fuck,” he growled against her mouth. “No bra. You came here like this on purpose didn’t you?”
“Yes.” She arched into his touch as his palm covered one breast, thumb circling her nipple until it ached.
“I wanted you to see.”
He spun her, and pressed her front to the wall. Her palms slapped the cool plaster while he kicked her feet apart, shoved the dress higher around her hips.
She had no panties on, so her pussy was on display and very wet.
“Jesus Christ.” His fingers slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked pussy.
“Dripping for your fiancé’s best man. Such a filthy little bride-to-be.”
Isabella whimpered, pushing back against his hand. “Please, touch me.”
He pushed two fingers inside her without warning, pumping slow and deep while his other hand fisted her hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her neck, sucking a mark just below her collarbone, but it was high enough she’d have to cover it tomorrow.
“You’re gonna walk down that aisle with my cum still inside you,” he rasped.
“You will feel me every time you say your vows.”
The words made her clench around his fingers. “Yes, God, yes.”
He added a third finger, stretching her, thumb grinding her clit. Isabella came fast, her thighs shaking, a choked cry muffled against his palm when he clapped it over her mouth.
“Good girl,” he murmured, licking the shell of her ear. “Now get on your knees.”
She dropped instantly. The ground was hard on her knees, but she didn’t care. Marcus unbuckled his belt, shoved his slacks and boxers down. His cock sprang free, thick, veined, the head already glistening.
Isabella licked her lips. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”
He fisted the base, guided himself to her mouth. “Then taste.”
She took him deep, slow at first, savoring the weight on her tongue, the salty bead of pre-cum. Then faster, hollowing her cheeks, hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. Marcus groaned low, fingers threading into her hair, guiding her rhythm.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
She did with her eyes watering, lips stretched around him, and mascara smudging slightly.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this on your knees for me the night before you marry him.”
He pulled out with a wet pop, hauled her up, carried her to the bed. Threw her down on her back and shoved her dress up around her waist again, spreading her thighs wide.
“Gonna fuck you raw, and I will not be using condom. I want you to feel every drop when I fill you.” he said, lining up.
Isabella nodded frantically. “Do it. Please.”
He slammed in, in a deep, brutal, one thrust burying him to the hilt. Isabella’s back bowed, a sharp cry escaping before she bit her lip.
“You are so fucking tight,” he groaned.
“This pussy was made for me.”
He didn’t go slow down, he fucked her hard, his hips snapping, the bed creaking, the headboard tapping the wall in rhythm. Isabella wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper.
“Harder, make me forget him, just for tonight.”
Marcus growled, hooked her legs over his shoulders, folded her nearly in half. The new angle let him hit deeper, grinding against her cervix with every thrust. His hand found her throat, not choking, just holding her possessively.
“Cum for me, cum on the cock that’s gonna ruin you for him.” he ordered.
She shattered, walls pulsing, milking him, a sob ripping from her throat as she soaked his shaft. Marcus fucked her through it with a relentless pace.
When he was close, he pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up. Slammed back in from behind.
“Gonna cum inside you,” he panted. “I’m gonna pump this married pussy full before you even say the words.”
“Yes, do it! mark me!” she screamed.
He roared, buried himself deep, and came with hot, thick ropes flooding her, pulse after pulse. So much it leaked out around his cock, dripping down her thighs onto the sheets.
They collapsed together, panting. Marcus stayed inside her, softening slowly, and kissing the back of her neck.
“This is the first and last time. That was the deal.” he whispered.
Isabella turned her head, met his eyes. “Yes, just this time.”
But neither of them moved.
He eventually pulled out, watched his cum leak from her with dark satisfaction. Then he scooped two fingers through it, pushed it back inside her.
“Keep me in you tomorrow,” he said quietly. “When you’re walking around doing last minute touches for your wedding. So, you remember who ruined your pussy.”
She shivered. “I will.”
He kissed her one last time, slow, deep, almost tender. Then he dressed, fixed her dress back into place, wiped the smudged mascara from under her eyes with his thumb.
“Go back to the party, before someone notices.” he murmured.
Isabella walked back across the lawn on unsteady legs. Cum still leaking slowly into her thighs with the mark on her neck already darkening, she’d cover it with makeup in the morning.
Daniel found her near the bar, pulled her into his arms. “Where’d you disappear to, beautiful?”
“Just needed a minute,” she said, smiling up at him.
He kissed her softly. “Three more days.”
Isabella kissed him back. But inside her, Marcus’s cum was still warm.
BACKSEAT OF THE LIMOUSINE AFTER THE GALA PT 3The driver remained silent up front, but both Amara and Roman knew he could hear every single sound from the back seat.The tension that had been building for the entire ride finally exploded.Amara hiked her shimmering silk gown all the way up to her waist. She wore nothing underneath. Her smooth, caramel pussy was already dripping wet, lips swollen and shiny. She reached down, wrapped her hand around Roman’s thick, rock-hard cock, and guided the fat head to her entrance.Then she sank down in one smooth, wet slide.A deep groan tore from Roman’s throat as her tight heat swallowed every thick inch of him. Amara’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but she kept going until her ass rested fully on his thighs and his cock was buried in the balls inside her.“Fuck,” she breathed, eyes half-closed. “You’re so big.”Roman’s massive hands gripped her bare ass, fingers digging into the soft, round flesh.
BACKSEAT OF THE LIMOUSINE AFTER THE GALA PT 2Amara sat close to Roman on the long leather seat, her hand still resting on his thick thigh. The tension between them had grown so heavy it felt difficult to breathe.She leaned in slowly, her perfume wrapping around him. Her full breasts pressed lightly against his arm through the thin silk of her gown.“I’ve noticed the way you watch me at every event,” she whispered, lips brushing his ear. “Your eyes stay on me longer than they should. Even when you’re supposed to be scanning the room for threats.”Roman’s stoic expression finally cracked. His large, dark hand moved over hers on his thigh and squeezed gently. His palm was warm and rough, completely covering her smaller hand.“You make it hard not to look,” he said, voice low and deep. “That gown tonight… it’s been fucking with my head since you walked out of the hotel.”Amara smiled against his neck. She swung one leg over his lap and climbed onto him slowly. The shimmering silk gown p
BACKSEAT OF THE LIMOUSINE AFTER THE GALA PT 1The lights flashed across the tinted windows as Amara slid into the back of the limousine. Her shimmering silk gown hugged every curve of her curvaceous figure, the long slit up one side revealed smooth caramel skin with every step. Her long braided hair, adorned with delicate gold threads, swayed down her back as she settled onto the cool black leather seat.Roman was already inside, sitting across from her. The massive, stoic bodyguard filled his side of the limo. His tailored black suit stretched across his broad shoulders and thick chest. His dark skin looked even richer in the low light. The partition between them and the driver was up, but they both knew the driver could hear every word they said.The door clicked shut and the limo pulled smoothly into traffic.“Good event tonight,” Roman said, voice deep and even. “No incidents. Your client was happy with the security.”Amara smiled, crossing her long legs. The slit in her gown fe
THE ABANDONED LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S COTTAGE PT 3Distant voices and the crackle of a ranger’s radio floated up from the trail below. The patrols were getting closer.The restraint between Zara and Declan finally snapped.Zara pushed Declan onto his back on the narrow iron bed. The old frame creaked loudly under his weight. She climbed over him quickly, straddling his hips. Her hands shook slightly as she yanked her denim shorts and panties to the side, exposing her soaked pussy. Declan’s cock stood thick and hard, the head flushed dark and already leaking.She lined him up and sank down slowly.Inch by inch, her tight, dripping cunt swallowed his thick cock. Zara’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp.Declan groaned low in his throat, the sound barely contained. The stretch burned in the best way. She kept going until she sat fully on him, his cock buried to the balls inside her.Both of them stayed perfectly still for a second, breathing hard, listening for any sound from outside.Then Za
THE ABANDONED LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S COTTAGE PT 2Zara and Declan still sat on the edge of the old iron bed, knees almost touching. The distant crash of waves mixed with the occasional creak of the wooden structure in the sea breeze.Zara’s voice dropped lower. “My marriage has left me starving for real connection. For something that actually feels dangerous and alive. My husband barely touches me anymore. I feel like I’m disappearing.”Declan looked at her, his gray-streaked beard framing a serious expression. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve actually photographed your blog before. I saw your pictures, the free-spirited woman hiking alone, smiling at the camera like the world belonged to her. I fantasized about you more than once. About what it would be like to meet the woman behind those photos.”Zara’s breath caught. Heat rushed to her face and between her legs. “You really did that? Thought about me while looking at my blog?”“Yeah,” Declan admitted, voice rough. “More times than
THE ABANDONED LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S COTTAGE PT 1The sea air hit Zara the moment she stepped out of her car at the remote coastal trailhead. Her flowy white top clung to her sun-kissed curves, the thin fabric already damp against her full breasts and the small of her back. Her denim shorts rode high on her toned thighs, the frayed edges brushing her skin with every step. She was restless. Her husband back home had barely looked up from his laptop for months, emotionally absent and cold in bed. This solo weekend escape was supposed to clear her head. Instead, the heavy salt air only made her feel more hungry for some kind of connection.She followed the narrow path toward the old lighthouse, camera slung over her shoulder for her travel blog. That was when she saw him.Declan stood near the base of the cliff, setting up a large tripod and adjusting his camera gear. He was rugged, with a thick beard that had streaks of gray running through his dark hair. His hands moved with confidence







