Semua Bab P*rnstation: Filthy Erotica Collection : Bab 31 - Bab 40

I eased the kid’s door almost shut, just a crack of light left so the night-light could spill out like a secret. He was out cold, thumb wedged in his mouth, blanket kicked to the foot of the crib in a tangled heap. My pulse still hammered from dinner, from the way Mr. C’s fingers had worked me under the table while Mrs. C talked about preschool registration and sippy-cup brands. My thighs were sticky, skirt clinging to the mess between my legs, his cum and mine dried in flaky streaks that tugged every time I moved.I turned to head downstairs, heels silent on the runner. The hallway was dark except for the glow under the bathroom door, steam still seeping out from her shower. Footsteps behind me, soft, deliberate. I smiled, thinking it was him again. Ready for round three. My pussy clenched at the thought, already aching for more.But when I spun, it was her.Mrs. C leaned against the wall, arms crossed, robe cinched tight around her waist. Hair dry now, falling in dark waves over on

She slid off my face slowly, thighs trembling, pussy still dripping onto my chin. She walked straight to him and grabbed his tie, yanked him close and kissed him hard. He groaned into her mouth, hands flying to her ass, squeezing like he’d been dying to touch her all week.When she pulled back, she smiled. Wicked. “Mia’s been warming me up for you.”His gaze flicked to me. I sat up on the rug, legs open, pussy swollen and dripping slick. My chest heaved and I couldn’t stop trembling. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing.“Strip,” she told him.He didn’t move at first. Just stared atme naked, then her naked, the air thick with sex. Then his hands went to his tie. Yanked it loose. Buttons popped as he ripped his shirt open. Belt clinked. Pants down. Boxers followed and then his cock sprang free, thick, hard, already leaking at the tip.“Jesus,” he muttered, voice rough. “You two… fuck.”Mrs. C stepped closer, trailed a finger down his chest, over his abs, wrapped it around his veiny

The gym was dead at 2 a.m.—just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the faint squeak of my sneakers on the rubber floor. I’d come here to burn off the day’s bullshit, but the only thing burning was the stretch in my hamstrings as I leaned over the bench, ass up, trying to touch my toes. My leggings were soaked through with sweat, clinging to every curve, and my sports bra had given up pretending to contain my tits hours ago.That’s when I heard the side door creak open.He stepped in like he owned the place—tall, inked, wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung low enough to show the deep V cutting into his hips. No shirt. No shoes. Just muscle and shadow and a lazy smirk when he spotted me.“Closing in twenty,” he said, voice rough like he’d been shouting all night. “You need a spot?”I straightened up, wiping sweat from my neck. “I’m good.”His eyes dragged down my body slowly , lingering where my leggings had ridden into the crease of my ass. “Didn’t ask if you were goo

I never thought I’d be the girl who gets wet for her roommate’s dad. But God, the second Mr. Caldwell stepped through the door with Mia’s duffel bag slung over one shoulder, something in my stomach flipped and never righted itself.He was supposed to be in and out. Mia had begged him to drive up for the weekend (some family thing she refused to explain), but ten minutes after he arrived, her phone buzzed with a reminder about a makeup chem exam she couldn’t miss. She cursed, kissed his cheek, promised she’d be back by four, and bolted, leaving me alone with six-foot-three of quiet, silver-fox danger wearing a faded navy Henley and jeans that hugged places I had no business noticing.“Guess it’s just us for a couple hours, Riley,” he said, voice low and a little rough, like he’d been shouting at a game the night before. He dropped the duffel by Mia’s bed and looked around our cramped dorm suite like he was sizing up how two girls lived in such a tiny space. His eyes landed on me last

I lost track of how many times he made me come. Three? Four? My brain was mush, my pussy swollen and aching in the best way, thighs slick with a mix of my own wetness and the cum he’d already pumped into me once on the bed. He’d pulled out at the last second that time, painting my stomach and tits in thick ropes while growling filthy praise about how pretty I looked covered in him.Now we weren’t even on the bed anymore.He’d dragged me down onto the cheap dorm carpet, the one that left little red indentations on my knees and palms. I was on all fours again, ass high, back arched so deep my tits nearly touched the floor. Luke knelt behind me, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough that I knew I’d have fingerprints tomorrow.“Look at this fucking view,” he rasped, voice shredded from groaning my name. “Nineteen-year-old ass up, dripping my cum, begging for more like a desperate little whore.”I whimpered, pushing back against him. I could feel his load leak