Todos los capítulos de DRIPPING WET: A COLLECTION OF EROTICA : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

The skirt was too short. I knew it. I wore it anyway.He always stared when I vacuumed the rug especially when I bent down to plug it in.And today, I didn’t bother with underwear.The house was too quiet.His car was still outside, but he hadn’t said a word since I came in.I wiped the kitchen counter slowly, deliberately, my ass swaying as I moved. I heard him before I saw him his shoes on the polished marble floor, the subtle clink of a whiskey glass."You like teasing me, don't you?"I froze, cloth in hand. I turned slowly.He was leaning against the wall, shirt undone just enough to expose that hard chest I’d imagined way too many times. His eyes? Low. Fixed between my thighs."I asked you something," he said, walking forward.I bit my lip. “I’m just cleaning, sir.”He stopped right in front of me. "Cleaning? Like that?"He reached behind me, tugging my skirt up.Nothing underneath. Just bare skin. Soaked.“Dirty little slut.”His voice dropped. “What were you hoping I’d do? Bend

She wasn’t supposed to be chosen.Elena stood frozen at the center of the stone circle, the red ash still fresh on her forehead, marked by the Elder’s fingers. Around her, the villagers murmured in disbelief, their gazes devouring her body under the sheer white lace slip clinging to her skin. The garment was barely clothing at all her nipples stood taut through the thin fabric, her soft curves exposed to every eye watching in the moonlight.She felt their hunger.The ritual was sacred. Only one woman, once a year, was chosen for the Harvesting Ceremony selected by bloodline, age, and untouched purity. Elena met none of those criteria. She was not from the sacred bloodline. She was not a virgin. And yet, the moment the ash touched her skin, there was no denying the choice had been made.The drumbeat started.Slow. Deep. Steady.Then came the man.He entered the circle without speaking, tall and broad-shouldered, a black ceremonial mask covering his entire face. His chest was bare, a th

Elena lay in the aftermath upon the cold stone, her glistening skin still marked with the evidence of the ritual. Yet as the first tendrils of dawn crept into the clearing, the energy a heady blend of lust, power, and ancient invocation—only grew stronger. The torches’ dying embers flickered over a throng of bodies that could no longer be restrained by silence or ceremony. The collective hunger of the village, once a distant murmur, now roared like a storm.From among the assembled figures emerged new participants men and women drawn by the raw magnetism of Elena’s transformation. They circled her like a living tapestry of desire. Their eyes, dark and lustful, recognized in her not just a sacrificial offering but an incarnation of primal fertility and unbound sensuality. In that charged moment, Elena was more than a chosen one; she was a goddess awakened.One man, his body still pulsing with the residue of the earlier fervor, stepped forward to gently kiss the silvered curve of her sh

I laid there for minutes. Maybe hours. The toy still buzzing faintly inside me, locked in place, holding me wide open and aching.Dr. Caldwell was gone.The restraints dug into my ankles, and my arms trembled as I gripped the edge of the table, trying to breathe through the pressure building between my legs. He knew what he was doing—he knew. Leaving me like this wasn’t an accident.It was punishment.It was foreplay.It was both.I wanted to hate him.Instead, I moaned his name.The door creaked open again, and for a wild second I thought it might be a nurse, or worse—a stranger.But it was him.He closed the door behind him silently, gloves already off, sleeves rolled up this time, and something darker burning in his eyes.“You’re still here,” he said.I gave him a look. “I’m tied to the table.”“And wet enough to soak the sheets. Good girl.”My cheeks flushed.He walked over slowly, as if to study me—like I was a case file that fascinated him. His fingers trailed up my inner thigh,

Her bedroom door creaked open like it was daring me to step inside.I should’ve felt shame. Guilt. Anything. But all I felt was hard. My cock pressed painfully against my boxers as I stared at her half-naked body curled under the sheets. One strap of her silk nightgown had slipped off her shoulder. The blanket barely covered the curve of her ass. She shifted slightly, murmuring something in her sleep, and I caught the shape of her tits under the thin fabric no bra, nipples poking through.I bit down on my lower lip.She had no idea I was here. No idea that her “stepson” was standing inches from her bed, fists clenched, trying not to stroke himself at the sight of her.I stepped closer. The air was thick with her scent something sweet and sinful. My eyes scanned the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way one leg was exposed, bent at the knee. Fuck. She looked so soft. So fucking perfect.And I hated that I’d been thinking about this for weeks.Every time she walked around the house i