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You’re a squirter(II)

Author: Ms.Mari
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-08-16 14:28:56

After a few minutes a tingle radiates from that sweet spot through the rest of my body. I shudder quietly, careful to swallow any sound.

A few tight thrusts later Greg pulls out and comes into the washcloth he keeps ready beside the bed. “You get so wet. It’s so weird,” he remarks, face twisted in mild distaste as he wipes his pelvis and thighs clean of his cum and my juices. He gives me a light kiss on the cheek.

Within minutes he is asleep. I lie awake longer, turning over what he meant about
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  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   You’re a squirter(IV)

    I stop reading the rest. Greg is only a nice guy when you stay exactly inside the lines he draws. I have seen flashes of his temper before, but I have always done everything he asked for fear of losing him. I have been the perfect girlfriend who never argues or disagrees, simply to keep the peace.Once, early in our relationship, I disagreed with him about a local-paper story on a transgender teacher who had been fired. He was adamant.“Good. Kids have enough trouble trying to figure out how to read. They don’t need the extra problems of trying to figure out if their teacher is a woman or a man.”I was shocked. “Seriously? They’re children. As long as you teach them their teacher is a human being who deserves respect, that’s all that matters.”We were at a barbecue place in West Ashley. He set down his pulled-pork sandwich and said, quietly but cruelly, “You can’t be fucking serious. Shut the fuck up.”“What?” I could not believe what I had heard.“Tuck your hair back behind your fuck

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   You’re a squirter(III)

    “Wait. What about the interview?” I call after him, still unsteady from the kiss.He answers over his shoulder without slowing. “If we’re not going to fuck, you are going to have to come back tomorrow.”I watch, incredulous, as he disappears into the bar. What an asshole.With the taste of Winston still on my lips I arrive home late. Greg is already asleep. I slide into bed beside him; the familiar warmth of his body reaches me across the sheets. I admit the kiss and the press of Winston’s body against mine had excited me. It is Thursday—not our designated night—but I make an attempt.I ease closer, kiss his neck, and massage his cock until it begins to harden. Greg wakes with a startled snort.“What are you doing, Lindsey? Are you crazy? It’s Thursday.” He lifts my hand from him and flings it away.“Sorry.”I retreat to my side of the bed, thoughts circling Winston again. He had looked incredibly hot. He was an amazing kisser. He even kissed on Thursdays. I fall asleep still turning

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   You’re a squirter(II)

    After a few minutes a tingle radiates from that sweet spot through the rest of my body. I shudder quietly, careful to swallow any sound.A few tight thrusts later Greg pulls out and comes into the washcloth he keeps ready beside the bed. “You get so wet. It’s so weird,” he remarks, face twisted in mild distaste as he wipes his pelvis and thighs clean of his cum and my juices. He gives me a light kiss on the cheek.Within minutes he is asleep. I lie awake longer, turning over what he meant about not being television material. I am not the thinnest woman, but neither is Oprah. Why should that matter? Even without a rail-thin frame I am confident I am attractive. Sometimes it feels as though Greg treats my weight like a permanent handicap. Maybe I am being paranoid. I don’t know.At work the next day I am at my desk finishing the FOB Kitchen piece when my editor, Charles, appears with coffee in hand.“I’ve got a new assignment for you.”I stop typing and look up from my Mac. “Where to th

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   You’re a squirter(I)

    I once dreamed of becoming the next Christiane Amanpour. I pictured myself climbing the ranks at CNN until I earned a post as an international correspondent, microphone in hand in some distant conflict zone. Those early steps never happened. By senior year at the College of Charleston I had a steady boyfriend, Greg, who believed an entry-level CNN job in Atlanta—only a four-and-a-half-hour drive away—would put too much strain on us. He had already been accepted to the Medical University of South Carolina right here in Charleston, and he made it clear he needed me close during the chaotic years ahead.So I never applied. On the days my editor hands me assignments I never imagined writing, I still wonder what it might have felt like to work inside a major media machine. Because Greg needed me in Charleston, my job options were limited. I took whatever I could get.Condé Nast launched a new magazine called Sugar and Salt, aimed at millennial foodies and headquartered in Charleston. We sh

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   MILK ME, DADDY(III)

    “N-no. Just… tired.” I shook my head fast and gripped the edge of the seat until my fingers ached.He started driving with one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on his thigh. Every bump in the road made the toy shift and thrust inside me; my pussy clenched around it, soaking wet and making soft, filthy sounds if anyone had been listening closely enough. I crossed my legs and hunched forward, trying to hide how badly I was shaking.“Sit up straight,” Damien said calmly.I obeyed without thinking. The new angle made the toy hit a spot that sent stars exploding behind my eyes, and a tiny whimper escaped me before I could stop it. His eyes flicked over. “You’re flushed. Are you sick?”I shook my head again and bit down on my knuckle. The toy was relentless now—thrusting, vibrating, rubbing right against my g-spot until my nipples stood hard against my thin top. The drive home felt endless. I was panting quietly, trying so hard to stay silent that my hips started rocking on

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   MILK ME, DADDY(II)

    I floated down from the high with my legs still shaky, cleaned up in the bathroom, then collapsed face-down on the bed like a starfish and let sleep take me under. When I finally woke, the sky outside my window had already turned dark. A car door slammed somewhere below, followed almost immediately by my mother’s loud, bright laugh echoing through the house.“Lila! Mom’s home!”She didn’t knock. She simply pushed my door open with Damien right behind her, both of them dressed for something formal—Mom in diamonds, Damien in a sharp black suit that made him look even more severe than usual. “We have a charity gala tonight,” she said while checking her earrings in my mirror. “Be good, study or whatever. We’ll be back late.”I stood by the window and watched their Bentley disappear down the long driveway until the house felt too quiet, too empty. Thirty minutes later the front door opened again. My heart jumped hard against my ribs. They couldn’t possibly be back already. I grabbed the fi

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   Teaching My Younger Husband Sin(II)

    So, maybe the car was gone. Maybe she had spent the money on some outrageous thing. Maybe he’d one day know what it was and maybe he wouldn’t. But for now, Gavin thought, fuck the car, and fuck the walk. Gavin was going to fuck his wife in this old-fashioned swing that hung from this big oak tree

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   COLLECTION 1: Teaching My Younger Husband Sin(I)

    If you called her a cougar or whatever hot-to-trot name the kids had come up with these days, Marie was liable to curse you out. She was anything but anybody’s cradle robber. Marie was simply Marie, an older woman who happened to be married to a younger man, and who happened to still have the goods

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   SOAKED IN SIN(II)

    It couldn’t be. I studied the cover more closely. It absolutely, definitely was him. Those eyes, high cheekbones, broad shoulders. OK, I’d seen him fully clothed and on the cover of His Best Performance he wore only a pair of swimming trunks – tiny, tight, yellow – but I recognised him beyond doubt.

  • Watch Me Explode, Daddy   COLLECTION 2: SOAKED IN SIN

    I glanced up from my crossword puzzle as the bell above the shop door tinkled. A man, broad shoulders, bright white smile and wearing black wraparound shades, strode into the warren of dusty shelves and cabinets. He moved with purpose, the material of his jeans hugging the tops of his long thighs an

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