Semua Bab Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection]: Bab 81 - Bab 90

Monday, 10:07 a.m.I’m in the front row before the first student even walks in.Notebook open, pen aligned perfectly, legs spread just enough that the ache in my balls is constant. I didn’t sleep. I edged five times last night exactly like she ordered, each one worse than the last. By the fifth I was crying into my pillow, cock purple, hips fucking the air, begging out loud for a woman who wasn’t even there.I’m wearing dark jeans today. The wet spot won’t show as fast.The room fills. I don’t look at anyone. My entire world narrows to the doorway.10:09.She walks in.Same heels. Different skirt. This one is black leather, tight as sin, ending just above the knee with a zipper running the full length of the back. White silk blouse, two buttons undone. I can already see the black lace of her bra peeking through the gap. Hair loose today, dark waves brushing the tops of her breasts every time she breathes.She doesn’t look at me. Not once.She writes “Donne – The Flea” on the board, tu

The mountain air was crisp and sharp as the three women stepped out onto the wooden deck of the secluded cabin. Snow-dusted pines surrounded them, the only sound the faint bubble of the hot tub and the distant hoot of an owl. It was late, the sky a velvet blanket of stars, and the day’s long hike had left their muscles deliciously sore.Mia, the bold redhead with freckles across her nose and a cascade of auburn waves down her back, was the first to peel off her sweater. She wore a crimson bikini that hugged her athletic frame, the top barely containing the swell of her full breasts. She grinned at her two best friends, eyes sparkling with mischief.“Last one in has to refill the wine,” she declared, kicking off her boots and jogging toward the steaming tub.Lena laughed, low and sultry, her dark brunette hair loose around her shoulders. She was the curviest of the three—wide hips, a tiny waist, and heavy, soft breasts that strained against her black bikini top. She followed Mia at a s

The cabin door slammed shut behind them, but none of them cared about the cold anymore. Towels hit the floor in a wet heap as Mia, Lena, and Sophia stumbled down the hallway, lips crashing, hands grabbing, laughter turning into breathless moans.Mia led the way, pulling Sophia by the wrist while Lena pressed against Sophia’s back, mouthing hot, open kisses along her shoulder. They burst into the master bedroom—king bed already turned down, fire crackling low in the hearth, soft lamplight painting their naked bodies in gold.“Fuck, I need you both,” Mia growled, shoving Sophia playfully onto the mattress. The blonde bounced once, legs falling open, her shaved pussy already glistening from the hot tub and the walk inside. Pink, swollen, begging.Lena crawled up after her like a predator, dark hair dripping onto Sophia’s stomach. “Look at this pretty little cunt,” she murmured, voice thick with lust. She dragged two fingers through Sophia’s slick folds, spreading her open. “Still drippin

I step off the elevator onto the penthouse floor,my heart pounding in my chest like it’s my very first shoot all over again.It’s been ten long years since I retired from the adult industry—ten years of trying to build a “normal” life,dating vanilla guys who could never quite scratch that deep, filthy itch,waking up in the middle of the night with my fingers buried knuckle-deep in my cunt,replaying old scenes in my head until I came so hard the sheets were soaked.But when that single text lit up my phone three nights ago—“Unofficial reunion. Same hotel. Same suite. Come filthy.”—there was no hesitation.No names, no signatures, just those four words that hit me like a slap straight to my swollen clit.I knew instantly who sent it.Jax.He always had that blunt, commanding way of talking, even in texts.And I knew exactly which suite:the sprawling penthouse at the Avalon,the same one where we’d shot some of our most legendary gangbang and orgy scenes back in the day.My heels

The first real light of morning creeps through the massive penthouse windows,painting everything in a soft, golden haze.The suite looks like a battlefield of pure filth.Sheets are twisted,soaked through with sweat,squirt,cum—some spots still wet and glistening.Empty champagne bottles roll on the floor.Used toys lie scattered:a thick black dildo crusted with dried juices,nipple clamps dangling from the headboard,a bottle of lube tipped over,its contents pooled on the nightstand like evidence.The air is heavy—thick with the raw smell of pussy,cock,ass,and the faint metallic tang of multiple orgasms pushed past limits.I’m sprawled in the very center of the ruined king bed,legs still open because I don’t have the strength to close them.My body is a map of the night.Cum dries in thick ropes across my enhanced tits,crusting over my pierced nipples.It’s streaked down my stomach,pooled in my navel,splattered across my inner thighs like obscene artwork.My face is a m