All Chapters of THE SINFUL HOUR COLLECTION : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

“I really want this one.” I slumped back in the chair, my fingers clawing at my swollen tits, pinching those stiff nipples. I shoved my hand down to my dripping cunt, rubbing my clit in sloppy circles—wet sounds filling the room as I groaned, replaying every filthy second with him. “Fuck, he’s too perfect,” I growled, fingers plunging inside my greedy hole, hips bucking, eyes rolling back as I chased that nasty orgasm. Then a giggle—sharp, girly—cut through the haze. I jolted upright, yanking my skirt down over my sticky thighs, heart hammering. Shit. Someone’s in here. In the washroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. “Hmm, I hope he keeps his mouth damn shut,” I muttered, wiping the slick from my fingers onto a paper towel. “Last thing I need is these boys finding my OnlyFans.” I exhaled, fixing my hair. Now I have to chase after him. He’s got that cocky ego that drives me wild. I’d chase him if that’s what he wants—I don’t mind. I’d be his naughty little whore. It’s be

6:04pm.“Girls, be snappy! We need to get there early—I heard someone popular is coming, don’t know who. So let’s beat the long queue!” Tess yelled.“I’m coming… just have to… argh, let these heels fit!” I groaned, struggling for a second.“I’ll book an Uber now—bills on you today, Victoria,” Tess added.“Hey! Not fair, why me?!” Victoria yelled.“Last time was Linda, remember?” Tess shot back.“Okay, whatever!” Victoria huffed, rolling her eyes.I glanced at myself in the mirror, adjusting my body-hugging mini gunmetal gown.Checked my ass—well-packed, round and juicy, begging to be grabbed. Clockit.Yep, all good. I muttered.I grabbed my black coach bag, “I’m ready, girls!” I yelled.“Me too… me too!” Victoria called back.“Perfect timing—the driver’s here,” Tess said.In the car.Babes, we have to take lots of selfies,” Tess said, buckling her seatbelt, her fingers lingering on the strap. “This might be the last hangout we get for a while.”“I don’t know what plans my dad has for

I never meant to become obsessed with the woman on the other side of the thin wall that separated our apartments. Her name was Misha. I learned it the first week she moved in—heard it shouted through the plaster when her friends helped her carry boxes. She had a low, smoky laugh that carried, the kind that made my skin prickle even when I was trying to concentrate on work. Then came the sounds. At first it was just music—darkwave, synth-heavy, vibrating through the shared wall at midnight. Then the occasional sharp crack of leather against skin. A woman’s gasp. A murmured command. Always female voices. Always late. I told myself I was imagining things. I was twenty-eight, single, overworked, and clearly projecting. But one night the moans turned into something unmistakable: a long, broken whimper followed by a firm “Good girl,” and then silence. My hand was already between my legs before I could talk myself out of it. After that, I started noticing her in the hallway. Misha was t

I’m the birthday whore tonight, twenty-five today, and I decided the only way to celebrate properly was to throw the filthiest, most depraved bisexual orgy Rio de Janeiro has ever seen. This penthouse in Rio is about to become a war zone of sweat, cum, and raw need. The second the door clicks shut, the four gods walk in: Filou in a black tank top, his thick black cock already heavy and swinging between his powerful thighs; Maximo shirtless, veins bulging across his chest and arms; Alfie blond and smirking, his carved abs glistening under the low lights; Malik silent and heavily tatted, the massive outline of his dick straining visibly against his pants. Behind them come my two favorite sluts: Luara with her thick caramel Brazilian ass that jiggles with every step, and Melissa, her fake tits bouncing freely, her pierced clit already visibly swollen and wet.I spread my knees wider on the cold marble floor and look straight into the camera lens, heart pounding. “Today I’m the birthday c

Tate, turn off the video game and get your things packed, darling. We’re leaving for the reunion in thirty minutes!” his mom Amber announced from the hallway. It was Tate’s most dreaded time of year—the annual family reunion at the Pinecone Campground nestled deep in the misty mountains. The only relative close to his age was his cousin Chuck, and the two of them rarely spoke more than a few awkward words. “I’m eighteen now. Can’t I just stay home this year?” he asked his mom, reluctantly shutting off his game console with a sigh. Amber glared at him from his doorway, hands planted firmly on her wide hips. “No, you can’t stay home. The whole family wants to see you, baby. You’ll have a great time, I guarantee it.” Amber was a stunning brunette in her early forties, blessed with a luscious hourglass figure that turned heads wherever she went. Tate’s eyes were immediately drawn to the mountainous swell of her heavy tits ballooning out from beneath her tight summer blouse. He could eve