The Hockey’s Plaything(Erotic Short Stories) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

I'd just finished a steamy quickie with Marcus in the locker room, my pussy still tingling from his rough thrusts, cum trickling down my thigh as I adjusted my uniform. My mind wandered to someone else. Nurse Lila Vargas, the new hire on the oncology floor. Latina firecracker with caramel skin, full lips, and curves that strained her scrubs. We'd exchanged flirty glances during breaks, her dark eyes promising mischief. She'd caught me staring at her ass during lunch, and instead of blushing, she'd winked. Time to see if she played as dirty as I imagined.It was past midnight, the ward empty save for us pulling double duty. I found her in the nurses' lounge, brewing coffee, her ponytail swinging as she moved. The room was cozy with couches, a mini-fridge, lockers lining one wall. I locked the door behind me, the click echoing softly. 'Lila, you look tense. Long night?'She turned, smirking, her hips cocked ‘Yeah, these shifts kill me. You offering a massage or something?'I sauntered

Months passed in their Pune apartment, the rhythm of married life settling like the morning mist over the Western Ghats. Priya adapted to her new role with quiet grace, managing the household while pursuing a part-time job at a local library. Arjun's engineering shifts often stretched late, leaving her evenings filled with the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant call of peacocks from the nearby hills. Their intimacy grew bolder, nights tangled in sheets where Arjun's cock plunged deep into her pussy, her legs wrapped around his waist as she moaned his name but beneath the domestic bliss, whispers of family obligations lingered. Arjun's two younger brothers, Vikram and Rohan, were due for a visit from Mumbai.Vikram, at twenty-four, was the wild one, a freelance photographer chasing stories across India with a backpack and a reckless grin. Rohan, twenty-two, studied medicine in the city, his serious demeanor hiding a sharp wit. They idolized Arjun, their eldest brother, the one wh

The gym echoed with the sharp claps of hands and the rhythmic chants of the cheer squad. Coach Marcus Hale stood at the edge of the mat, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his polo shirt. At 35, he was the epitome of disciplined strength, muscles honed from years of football and now coaching. His dark hair was cropped short, and his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He scanned the group of girls, his eyes lingering a fraction too long on Emily, the captain of the cheerleaders.Emily was a vision in her tight uniform, a cropped top that hugged her perky C-cup breasts and a short pleated skirt that barely covered her toned thighs. Her blonde ponytail bounced with every high kick, and her green eyes sparkled with determination. She was the star of the team, flexible and fierce, but lately, she'd noticed Coach Hale's gaze on her more than the others. It sent a thrill through her core, a secret heat that made her pulse quicken during drills.'Pick it up, ladies! Emily,

Emily bumped Sophia's hip playfully as they walked to the parking lot. 'My place? Parents are out till morning.' Her voice carried that teasing lilt, the one that promised mischief. Sophia's cheeks warmed, remembering the stretch of Coach's cock in her ass just hours ago, the way Emily's tongue had soothed the ache afterward in the showers.'Yeah. I need... more.' Sophia admitted, her pussy already tingling at the thought. They piled into Emily's beat-up sedan, the drive filled with giggles and stolen glances. Emily's hand rested high on Sophia's thigh, fingers inching under her skirt, brushing the edge of her panties. Sophia spread her legs slightly, biting her lip as Emily's fingertip grazed her clit through the damp fabric.'You're soaked already,' Emily murmured, eyes on the road but hand insistent. She pressed harder, rubbing in slow circles until Sophia whimpered, hips bucking. 'Save it for home, slut.' Emily pulled away, smirking at Sophia's frustrated groan.They burst throu

It was a typical Saturday evening at the Martinez household. I was lounging on the couch in my boxers, watching a soccer match on TV and sipping a beer, when my daughter Isabella came bouncing down the stairs."Hola, papi!" she chirped, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before plopping down next to me. "What are you watching?"I glanced over at her, trying not to stare too obviously at the way her tiny shorts rode up her thighs. Isabella was the spitting image of her mother, with long dark hair, hazel eyes, and curves that could stop traffic. She was only 18, but she had the body of a woman."Just the game," I said, forcing myself to look back at the TV. "How was your day? Did you have fun with your friends?"Isabella nodded, leaning back against the couch and crossing her long legs. "It was great! We went to the mall and I bought a new bikini. Want to see it?"Before I could answer, she was hopping up and skipping towards the stairs. I couldn't help but watch as her ass swayed with