บททั้งหมดของ Wet Desires: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Monday, 6:00 a.m.The executive bathroom, all cold marble and gold fixtures, still smelled faintly of his cologne and my fear.He had me bent over the vanity like an offering, white dress pooled at my feet, legs forced wide, wrists locked in steel cuffs behind my back. On the counter sat the new kit he’d ordered custom, laid out like instruments of war:● A thick, curved wand already buzzing on max.● A remote thrusting rig with an obscene 11-inch veiny silicone cock locked and loaded.● A double-penetration arm for when one hole wasn’t enough.● A ruthless clit-suction pump with a clear cup that made everything look twice as swollen.● And in his hand, the pregnancy test. Two brutal pink lines.He held it an inch from my eyes, letting me see my future branded in plastic.“Positive,” he said, voice velvet and venom. “Time to celebrate, Mommy.”He wedged the stick sideways between my teeth like a bit.“Bite down. Drop it and I add an hour.”Then he flipped every switch at once.The thr

Close your eyes for three seconds.Feel that hate-flavored heat already pooling between your legs?Good. That’s him.Your enemy. Your boss. Your crash. Your forbidden fucking stepdad. Pick the one that makes your stomach twist hardest. I don’t care which. Just know he’s the one I’m using to ruin you tonight.Spread wider.I want your knees touching the mattress edges, pussy completely open, cold air hitting your clit so you remember how exposed you are.Two fingers.Spit on them like he would (rough, messy, no care).Rub that spit over your entrance, teasing, until you’re trying to lift your hips to chase more.Now stop.Hands off.Feel yourself throb for the man you swear you despise.Look down at your empty, aching cunt and say his name out loud.Say it like you hate him.Say it like you want him to punish you for it.Good.Shove three fingers in.All at once. No mercy.Feel that burn? That’s him forcing his way in after you told him “never.”Fuck yourself hard.Wrist snapping.Palm

I couldn’t believe it was happening. My young boss, Alex—barely 25, cocky as fuck and owning the whole damn department—had me pinned in his office after hours. The door locked with that ominous click, and my body betrayed me instantly. I was ovulating like a bitch in heat, pussy clenching and gushing, tits swollen and throbbing, nipples poking through my blouse like diamonds. He’d overheard me whining about my cycle at lunch, and now his eyes burned with raw, animal lust, like he was gonna devour me whole.“You’ve been prancing around like a desperate whore all week, Sarah,” he snarled, lunging forward, his strong hand clamping my wrist and slamming me chest-first into his hard body. His massive cock strained against his slacks, grinding into my thigh like a steel rod. “That ass-hugging skirt, those sheer blouses with your fat nipples screaming for attention. Admit it—you’re dying for your boss to wreck that married cunt.”I whimpered like a pathetic slut, panties a sopping mess, clit

I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who measured her life in dry spells, but here I was: twenty-eight, single in every way that actually mattered, and currently on month eight of the most celibate streak of my adult existence. Eight months. Two hundred and forty-something days. I’d done the math at 2 a.m. more than once, staring at my ceiling like it owed me an orgasm.So when Alex and Matteo showed up at my door on a rainy Friday night with two bottles of my favorite Argentinian malbec and a bag of take-out Thai, I should have known the universe was about to sideswipe me.They let themselves in the way they always have (Alex with my spare key on a ridiculous glittery pineapple keychain he gave me for my twenty-sixth birthday, Matteo balancing everything else like he was born to carry things for people he loves). I was already three-quarters of a bottle deep, curled into the corner of my couch in an oversized college hoodie and the softest leggings I own, hair twisted up in a knot

I woke up sore in all the right places, tangled in sheets that smelled like sex and the two men still wrapped around me. Sunlight sliced through the blinds, painting gold stripes across Matteo’s bare back and Alex’s arm slung possessively over my waist. For a second I just lay there, heart thudding too loud, replaying every filthy, perfect moment from the night before.Then Matteo stirred, pressing a lazy kiss to my shoulder. “Morning, gorgeous.”Alex’s hand slid up my stomach, thumb brushing the underside of my breast. “You snore, by the way. It’s adorable.”I elbowed him weakly. “Shut up.”He laughed into my neck. “Make me.”We showered eventually (separately, because three bodies in my tiny stall would have ended in someone’s death by shampoo bottle). By the time we were all dressed in borrowed sweats and drinking coffee at my kitchen counter, the awkwardness I’d been braced for never showed up. Instead there was this humming, easy warmth, like we’d done this a hundred lazy Saturda