All Chapters of Fifty Shades of Lust {Short Stories}: Chapter 341 - Chapter 350

The couch was ruined. A dark wet spot bloomed where I’d come on him, and Andrew’s cum was already leaking down my thigh as he finally pulled out. He didn’t collapse on top of me like some exhausted lover in a movie. Instead he sat back, cock still half-hard and shining, and just looked at me—really looked—like he was memorizing the way my chest rose and fell, the flush across my breasts, the mess between my legs. I stretched lazily, letting him see everything. “You’re thinking too loud.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m thinking I should feel worse than I do.” A pause. “I don’t.” “Good.” I sat up, swung one leg over his lap again, but this time facing him so my slick pussy rested directly on his recovering cock. “Because I’m not letting you hide in guilt all week. Mom’s gone. The house is ours. And I want to know every single thing you’ve jerked off imagining about me.” His eyes darkened. That was the interesting part—no soft romantic confessions, no “I’ve always loved yo

I woke up to the smell of rain-soaked pine and coffee. The storm had eased into a steady drizzle that drummed softly against the cabin roof, turning the world outside into a watercolor blur of green and gray. Andrew wasn’t in bed. I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in my muscles and the deeper, sweeter soreness between my legs. My body was covered in faint marks—fingerprints on my hips, a bite on the inside of my thigh, dried cum flaking on my stomach from when he’d pulled out and finished on me in the middle of the night. I found him in the kitchen, shirtless in low-slung sweatpants, pouring two mugs. The sight of him—broad shoulders, the cut of muscle along his back, the way his hair was still messy from my hands—sent a fresh wave of heat through me. He turned when I padded in, wearing nothing but his flannel shirt from yesterday, unbuttoned and slipping off one shoulder. “Morning,” he said, voice still rough with sleep. His eyes dragged down my body slowly, appreciatively. N

“You’re late.”Maya dropped her bag by the door and locked it. “Traffic. And Mom called again.”Lila didn’t look up from her laptop. She sat cross-legged on the couch in a tank top and underwear, hair in a messy knot. The camera stood ready on the tripod. Ring light still off. “What did she want?”“Sunday dinner. She’s making the chicken thing. Said Dad keeps asking why we never sleep over anymore.”Lila closed the laptop and set it aside. “We told them we have early classes Mondays.”“Yeah. She still doesn’t buy it.” Maya walked over and sat on the arm of the couch. “I hate lying to them.”“Then stop picking up.” Lila’s voice stayed even. “You ready or not? Chat’s already stacking up. People paid for tonight.”Maya rubbed her face. “Give me a minute.”Lila shifted closer until their knees touched. “You’re in your head. Say it.”“Nothing big. Just… sometimes it hits me how close we are to this whole thing falling apart. One wrong message. One person who knows us who buys a subscriptio

“We need a better story for Christmas.”Maya said it while she was still in bed, phone in one hand, Lila’s leg thrown over hers. Morning light cut across the sheets. The laptop sat closed on the nightstand. The camera was packed away. For once the apartment looked normal.Lila didn’t open her eyes. “We already have a story. Early shifts at the campus library. Overtime. Whatever.”“Dad’s not going to buy overtime through the whole break. He already thinks we’re avoiding them.”Lila rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Then we go for two days. Sleep in the guest room. Act like nothing’s different. Come back here and delete the browser history again.”Maya locked her phone and set it down. “You make it sound easy.”“It’s not easy. It’s just what we do.” Lila turned her head. “You still want this, right? Us. The account. All of it.”“Yes.”“Then stop looking for reasons to panic.”Maya sat up. The sheet slipped. She didn’t pull it back. “I’m not panicking. I’m trying to keep u

Dad reached the bookshelf first.He pulled the textbook out without saying anything. The weight of it was wrong—too light for the thickness of the pages. He opened the cover. The hollowed center held a black external hard drive and a folded note with a password written in Lila’s handwriting. He stared at it for a long time. Then he looked at his daughters.“What is this?”Neither of them answered.Mom’s voice was thinner than usual. “Open it.”“We don’t have to—” Lila started.“Open it.”Dad carried the hard drive to the desk and plugged it into the laptop that still sat closed on the kitchen counter. The password screen appeared. He looked at Lila.She gave him the password. Her voice barely worked.Folders loaded. Video files. Dates. Titles that left nothing to imagination. Dad clicked the most recent one. The screen filled with the living room they were standing in. The ring light. The couch. Lila on her back. Maya above her. Their faces clear. The sounds clear. The way they looked