All Chapters of Heated Tales: A compilation of steamy stories: Chapter 391 - Chapter 400

A Blowjob For the Driver. (2)When the wind shifted and heavy rain began spilling onto the porch, Jed took it as his cue to head inside. It was far too early to sleep, and with the storm intensifying, he had a feeling it was going to be a long night. He set a fresh pot of coffee on the stove.His husky, Tori, padded up beside him, tongue out, tail wagging. The three-year-old dog was a beautiful mix of gray and white fur with piercing blue eyes. Jed smiled, reaching down to scratch behind the dog’s ears before pouring some food into his bowl.Another crack of thunder rolled through the house, loud and close. Tori whimpered and backed away. Jed picked him up gently and guided him into his room. If the storm kept this up, the dog wouldn’t get any sleep, and neither would he.Back in the living room, Jed froze when he heard the engine of a vehicle sputtering and revving outside. Curious, he moved to the front window and pulled the curtain aside. Cordon’s FedEx truck was still there and cl

A Blowjob For The Driver (4)Jed did not need to say it out loud. The second his hand moved between Cordon’s legs and brushed the growing bulge in his underwear, the air between them shifted."You don’t have to be gày to enjoy a good blówjób," Jed murmured, his fingers stroking gently. The pulse against his palm was unmistakable. Cordon’s cóck was swelling, eager and heavy.“It’s clear your cóck wants it,” Jed added.Cordon’s breath hitched. He didn’t move away. He just looked down, his brown eyes locked on Jed’s face, lips parted. Slowly, he opened his robe without a word. The green briefs hugged his thick shaft, but it was clear the fabric was losing the fight.Jed dropped to his knees, eyes fixed on the outline. He slid his fingers under the waistband and tugged it down carefully. The shaft was stuck, thick and flushed. He guided it out, letting the waistband sit beneath Cordon’s hairy balls. The long cóck swung free, heavy and proud, the foreskin covering the tip like it was teasi

Disclaimer:This story contains themes of BDSM, including dominance, submission, and elements of consensual non-consent. Reader discretion is advised. Please skip if you may find such content triggering.~~~~~~~I should’ve known better than to wear the red dress.He warned me, three days ago. He had sent a short and cold in a message that didn’t even bother with softness:"Do not wear red."That was it. No explanation. No emoji. Just a full stop that landed like a threat.So naturally, I wore it.Not because I wanted to test him. Not exactly. But because I needed to remind him, and myself, that I could. That I still had sharpness beneath the submission. That I wasn’t just a pet waiting to be leashed.Now I’m standing in his apartment, red silk clinging to my skin like a dare. The door opened without a word. There was no greeting and no warmth.Just him, standing by the door as he watches me in silence.He doesn’t kiss me. Neither does he speak.After a few minutes, he steps aside and

We do not speak as the elevator glides downward to the parking level. The silence stretches between us, thick and charged. My legs are shaking so badly I can barely remain upright. My panties are in his pocket, soaked and stolen. His scent clings to my skin. I can smell him every time I move. I do not want to wash it off.When the elevator doors open, he steps out first. He grips my hand tightly, as if he’s making sure I do not run. I follow him without hesitation. The lights of his car flash in the far corner of the private garage. It is low, black, sharp, and menacing. It suits him perfectly.He opens the passenger door for me, and I lower myself into the warm leather seat. The air inside the car smells like him. My thighs press together involuntarily. I am still raw, still throbbing from what he just did to me. He did not ask. He just took, and I let him. No, I begged him.He gets in and slams the driver’s door. The sound echoes across the garage with finality.“She’s not going to

A Slut With No Name (2)I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who gets off on strangers watching. But the truth is, I wanted this. I wanted to be touched, used, and filled. I wanted something filthy. Something that would make my thighs shake long after it ended.I heard the stall door open again. The sound of a zipper coming down, followed by the heavy stream of a man pissing into the toilet. He didn’t see me. He didn’t know I was kneeling in the next stall with my coat bunched around my hips and my panties glued to my skin.I should’ve left right then. But my knees refused to move.The man was still in his stall when I reached for the latch, ready to sneak out before he noticed. That’s when I heard him speak. His voice came through the wall, smooth and low with a British accent, aged but clear."Stay for one more, would you, love?"I froze.He finished his piss and zipped up. I had missed my chance to leave.Then I saw it. A thick, heavy cock pushed through the hole in the stall w