Fifty Shades of Lust {Steamiest Short Stories} のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

MIAWe didn't move far after that last round. Cum still leaked from my pussy and ass, warm trails sliding down my thighs as I shifted on the bed. My skin was sticky, flushed, every nerve buzzing. My clit throbbed with that deep, unsatisfied ache, even after coming so many times. I needed more. Needed to feel them connected through me. The thought alone made fresh slick drip out.Alex kissed my neck, his breath hot against my ear. "What next, baby?"I turned my head, met his eyes. "The chain. All linked up. Jake fucking me while you fuck him. Then switch."Jake's hand trailed down my spine, fingers grazing my ass crack. "How do we do it?"I got on all fours in the center of the bed. Ass up high, knees wide, tits hanging heavy and swaying. The position made my pussy lips part naturally, cool air hitting the wetness. "Like this. Jake behind me in my pussy. You behind him in his ass. Your thrusts push him into me."Jake knelt close behind me. His hands gripped my hips first, thumbs spread

MIAWe were all wrecked. Bodies slick with sweat, cum, spit, and my own endless wetness. The room smelled like sex—musky, thick, intoxicating. My pussy and ass throbbed with that deep, used ache. Nipples raw. Ass cheeks still burning red from the spanks. Cum leaked slow from both holes, mixing with fresh slick every time I shifted. I lay on my back, legs spread wide, chest heaving. Fingers dipped lazily into my pussy, scooping up the mess, bringing it to my lips. I licked slow, tasting us all. Salty. Bitter. Sweet. My clit pulsed hard, begging for one last round.Alex and Jake knelt on either side of me. Cocks hard again, slick and veiny. Jake stroked himself slow, eyes locked on my cum-streaked tits. Alex rubbed the head of his cock against my thigh, leaving a wet trail.“On your knees,” Alex said, voice rough. “We’re finishing on you.”I pushed up, knees hitting the mattress. Mouth open. Tongue out. Hands behind my back like I was waiting to be used.They stood over me. Close. Heat

ELLA The moment the last lock clicked, the darkness became absolute. No faint glow from under the door, no red emergency strips, nothing. Just black so thick it pressed against my eyeballs. My breathing sounded loud in my own ears—quick, shallow, almost panicked. The air smelled different now: sweat, musk, the faint metallic tang of arousal, and underneath it all the clean chemical bite of lube someone had already opened.A large hand closed around my left wrist. The grip was firm, not bruising yet, but unbreakable. Another hand took my right arm. They pulled me forward two steps. My heels caught on the edge of a thick mat and I stumbled. Someone caught me from behind—broad chest, heat radiating through a thin T-shirt—and steadied me with an arm across my stomach. His palm flattened just below my navel, fingers splayed wide. I could feel the calluses on his skin.“Easy,” he murmured against my ear. The voice was the same one that had whispered about no way out. Deep, lightly accented

ELLA The table had left deep grooves in my hips from where the edge had pressed for so long. My skin felt raw everywhere—thighs chafed, nipples swollen and tender from constant pinching, ass burning from repeated stretching, throat scraped hoarse. Cum had crusted in places: flaky on my cheeks, tacky between my breasts, thick and cooling in the creases of my elbows. Every shallow breath pulled in the heavy scent of it all—salt, musk, the faint rubbery edge of condoms some of them had bothered with, the sharp tang of my own repeated releases.I was still bent over the bench when they unstrapped me. No gentle hands this time. Rough grips under my arms hauled me upright. My legs shook so badly they buckled immediately. Someone caught me around the waist and half-carried, half-dragged me across the mats. The movement made everything inside me shift—cum sloshing, holes still gaping slightly, clit so engorged it hurt to brush against my own thighs.They stopped. I heard chains rattle overhe

ELLA The chains still held my wrists high, but they’d lowered me enough that my knees rested on the mat again. My body felt like it no longer belonged to me—every muscle quivered, every hole ached with a deep, throbbing soreness, every inch of skin was coated in layers of drying and fresh cum. My face was a wreck: mascara tracks carved black rivers down my cheeks, lips swollen and cracked, hair plastered to my forehead and neck with sweat and semen. I could taste it constantly—salty, bitter, coating the back of my throat no matter how many times I swallowed.I thought the worst was over. I was wrong.The room had gone quieter for a moment—only heavy breathing, the wet slap of cocks being stroked back to life, the occasional low chuckle. Then the chains whirred again. My arms were pulled higher until I was forced onto my tiptoes, shoulders screaming, breasts lifted high. Someone snapped a thick leather collar around my neck and clipped it to a short chain hanging from the ceiling. My