INICIAR SESIÓNThe twenty minutes stretched into an eternity of charged silence.
They didn’t speak as they left the station. Didn’t need to. He fell into step beside her, hands in his coat pockets, the bulge of her lace panties visible for a second before he shifted the fabric. Elena’s thighs rubbed together with every stride, a sticky reminder of what he’d already poured into her. Three blocks. Her apartment building loomed at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street. She could have said goodnight at the door. Could have taken the elevator alone. She didn’t. Instead, she glanced at him once quick, daring then punched in the code. He followed her into the lobby without a word. Into the elevator. Stood behind her as the doors closed, his reflection in the mirrored wall watching her like prey. The second the car started moving, he was on her. Hands rough under her coat, yanking her blouse free from her skirt. Mouth hot on her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise. She moaned, loud this time no one to hear and he answered by shoving a thigh between hers, forcing her to ride the hard muscle of his leg through her skirt. “Been dripping down your thighs the whole walk, haven’t you?” he growled against her skin. “My come leaking out of that greedy little pussy.” She whimpered, grinding helplessly against him. The elevator dinged. Twelfth floor. He pulled back just long enough for her to fumble the key into her door. The moment it clicked open, he pushed her inside, kicking it shut behind them. No lights. Just the city glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He spun her, slammed her back against the wall, and dropped to his knees. Skirt rucked up to her waist in one brutal motion. His mouth was on her before she could catch her breath—tongue licking a filthy stripe through her folds, tasting himself mixed with her slick. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he rasped, voice muffled against her clit. “Taste like you’ve been fucked raw.” Two fingers plunged inside her without warning, curling hard. She cried out, hands fisting in his hair as he sucked her clit like he wanted to devour her whole. His free hand pinned her hip to the wall, holding her still while he tongue-fucked her in brutal, sloppy strokes. She came fast—shattering, thighs clamping around his head, flooding his mouth. He didn’t stop. Kept licking her through it, slow and obscene, until she was shaking and begging. “Please fuck too much” He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes feral. “Turn around.” She did, bracing her palms on the wall, ass out, legs spread. He didn’t bother undressing fully. Just freed his cock again thick, glistening with precome and slammed into her from behind in one savage thrust. No mercy this time. He fucked her like he hated her. Like he wanted to ruin her. Hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave fingerprints. Hips snapping forward, balls slapping against her clit with every punishing stroke. The wet, obscene sound of her pussy taking him filled the room, loud and shameless. “Tell me,” he snarled, yanking her head back by the hair so her spine arched. “Tell me how much you love being fucked like a slut by a stranger.” “I—fuck—love it,” she sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Love your cock splitting me open—please—” He reached around, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing vicious circles. “Come on my dick again. Milk me dry.” She did—screaming this time, body convulsing as she squirted around him, soaking his slacks, dripping down both their thighs. He groaned like it broke him, thrusts turning erratic. Then he pulled out suddenly, spun her again, and shoved her to her knees. Mouth open. Tongue out. He stroked himself once, twice thick ropes of come painting her lips, her tongue, her cheeks. She swallowed what landed in her mouth greedily, eyes locked on his as he milked the last drops onto her chin. Silence, except for their ragged breathing. He tucked himself away, then surprising her used his thumb to gather the come on her face and feed it to her. She sucked it clean without hesitation. Finally, he spoke. “Bedroom’s that way?” He nodded toward the hallway. She nodded, throat raw. “Good.” He hauled her up by the arm, possessive. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”The zipper of Lila’s crimson dress slid down with agonizing slowness.Cool air kissed her spine as the silk parted. The woman—call her Jade, from the emerald flash of her gown—peeled the fabric from Lila’s shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. Lila stood in nothing but black lace panties, sheer thigh-high stockings, and the heels that made her legs look endless.The man—let’s name him Victor—circled her slowly, eyes raking over every exposed inch. His gaze felt like a physical touch.“Turn,” he commanded.Lila turned.Jade stepped in close behind her, breasts pressing soft and warm against Lila’s back. Fingers traced the lace edge of her panties, then dipped beneath, teasing the slick heat already gathered there.“So wet already,” Jade purred against her ear. “You loved being watched up there, didn’t you? Loved knowing we were bidding on this pretty pussy.”Lila’s breath hitched.Victor stopped in front of her, tilting her chin up with two fingers.“Hands behind your back.”She obey
The invitation arrived in a plain black envelope, no return address, slipped under her apartment door like a secret.Inside: a single heavy card, embossed in silver.Velvet Rope SocietySaturday, 11 p.m.One night. One rule: everything is consensual.Bring only your desire.Lila had heard whispers about the club—exclusive, hidden somewhere beneath the city, a place where the wealthy and the wicked gathered to buy and sell pleasure. She’d always told herself it was myth. Fantasy fodder for late-night scrolling.But the card felt real between her fingers. And the ache it sparked low in her belly was very real.She went.The address led her to an unmarked steel door in an alley downtown. A man in a tailored black suit checked her name against a tablet, eyes lingering appreciatively on the dress she’d chosen—deep crimson silk that clung to every curve, slit high enough to flash thigh with each step, neckline plunging just enough to make her feel dangerously exposed.He nodded once. The do
He didn’t wait for her to lead the way. One strong arm hooked around her waist, lifting her off her feet like she weighed nothing. Elena’s back hit his chest as he carried her down the hallway, her bare feet dangling, skirt still bunched around her hips. She could feel his cock—already half-hard again—pressing against her ass with every step. The bedroom door banged open under his shoulder. City lights spilled through the sheer curtains, painting everything in silver and shadow. He dropped her onto the king-sized bed, the mattress bouncing under her weight. She landed on her back, blouse half-unbuttoned, breasts heaving, thighs slick and shining. He stood at the foot of the bed, shrugging off his coat. Eyes never leaving her. “Strip,” he said. Voice low, dangerous. “Everything but the heels.” Elena’s fingers shook as she obeyed. Buttons popped free one by one until her blouse slid off her shoulders. Bra next—black lace that he’d already ruined earlier with rough hands. She arche
The twenty minutes stretched into an eternity of charged silence.They didn’t speak as they left the station. Didn’t need to. He fell into step beside her, hands in his coat pockets, the bulge of her lace panties visible for a second before he shifted the fabric. Elena’s thighs rubbed together with every stride, a sticky reminder of what he’d already poured into her.Three blocks.Her apartment building loomed at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street. She could have said goodnight at the door. Could have taken the elevator alone.She didn’t.Instead, she glanced at him once quick, daring then punched in the code. He followed her into the lobby without a word. Into the elevator. Stood behind her as the doors closed, his reflection in the mirrored wall watching her like prey.The second the car started moving, he was on her.Hands rough under her coat, yanking her blouse free from her skirt. Mouth hot on her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise. She moaned, loud this time no one to hear
The train hissed to a stop at Westbridge Station—Elena’s stop.The one she’d been dreading and craving in equal measure.The doors slid open with a mechanical sigh. Cold night air rushed in, sharp against her flushed skin. She stepped onto the platform without looking back, legs still unsteady, thighs slick beneath her skirt. The orgasm he’d pulled from her lingered like an echo, making every movement feel heightened, sensitive.She heard his footsteps behind her—measured, unhurried. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that she knew he was following.The platform was nearly deserted. Just a drunk couple arguing by the exit and a janitor pushing a cart far down the other end. Overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting long shadows across the concrete.Elena walked toward the stairs that led up to street level. Her heels clicked too loudly in the quiet. She didn’t slow down. Didn’t speed up. Just kept moving, pulse racing, waiting to see what he would do.Halfway up the stairs, his
The last train of the night was always the quietest.Most commuters had gone home hours ago, leaving only the stragglers, the night-shift workers, and the ones—like Elena—who simply didn’t want the evening to end.She stood near the doors of the second-to-last car, one hand gripping the cold metal pole, her body swaying gently with the rhythm of the tracks. The lights overhead flickered every few seconds, casting brief shadows across the near-empty space. Only a handful of passengers remained, all lost in their phones or half-asleep against the windows.Elena’s coat was unbuttoned despite the December chill seeping through the cracks. Beneath it, she wore a thin silk blouse and a pencil skirt that hugged her hips a little too tightly after the wine at dinner. She felt warm—too warm—her skin buzzing from the alcohol and something else she couldn’t quite name.The train lurched around a curve, and she shifted her weight. That’s when she felt him.A solid, unmistakable presence behind he







