All Chapters of DON’T STOP: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

DarrellI watched Bella through the half-open blinds, that slow, almost hesitant sway in her hips as she crossed the courtyard toward my private wing of the faculty residence. The wide-brimmed hat shielded most of her face, but I could still make out the nervous way she kept glancing left and right, like she expected someone to jump out and call her name. Sunglasses perched on her nose even though the late-afternoon sun was already dipping behind the palms. Cute. Desperate. Delicious.The knock came softer than I expected—three quick taps, polite, almost apologetic.I let her wait a full ten seconds before I crossed the room and pulled the door open.She slipped inside fast, like she was afraid the hallway cameras might catch her silhouette. The hat came off in one motion; dark curls tumbled free, and she raked shaky fingers through them, trying to look composed. Her lips were glossy, freshly reapplied. Lipstick was the color of ripe plums. I noticed because my eyes always found her mo

DarrellMy dick was already stirring again, thick and insistent, just from watching Bella lick her swollen lips, her eyes still glassy and starving. I wrapped my hand around the base and stroked slow—once, twice. Fuck, it didn’t take shit. Heat and blood surged in fast, hardening me back to steel in seconds, veins pulsing under my palm.“Yeah,” I rasped, voice scraped raw from all the groaning earlier, “I get hard again so quick for you. Look at this shit.”Her lips parted on a shaky breath, like she could already taste me on her tongue. That hungry little look snapped something in me.“Open up,” I ordered, low and final.She did—mouth wide, tongue flat, no fucking hesitation. Good girl.I fisted the back of her head, fingers knotting in her hair, and fed her the head first. Let her lips stretch, let her feel the weight. Then deeper. Wet heat enveloped me, tight and slick, and when I nudged the back of her throat, she gagged, just a flutter that shot lightning up my spine.I didn’t pu

Bella The first wave of my orgasm had barely crested when the aftershocks hit harder and meaner, like my body had decided one explosion wasn’t enough. My pussy clamped down on him in violent, rhythmic spasms, each squeeze pulling a fresh gush of wetness around his still-buried cock. I couldn’t control it anymore. I found my hips jerked against his, grinding helplessly, chasing the fading sparks even as they built again into something sharper.“Oh fuck—oh fuck! Mr Black—” My voice cracked into a high, keening whine, words dissolving into nothing but breathy sobs. My thighs locked so tight around his waist my calves cramped, heels digging into the small of his back like I was trying to fuse us together. Every twitch of his cock inside me, now thick and pulsing with the last of his release, sent another shock ripping through my core. My walls fluttered wildly, milking him over and over, greedy even though he’d already filled me to dripping.He groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrat

Bella“What is it about?” I asked, still rooted in the doorway, arms crossed tight over my chest like they could hold everything in. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “At least you should have called that you were coming over.”Jones patted the mattress beside him casually, like we were just having one of our usual late-night talks. “Just come sit down so we can talk properly.”I sighed softly and tiredly, the kind of sigh that carried too much weight. “Jones, speak if you want to. You chose to ignore me for days. You didn’t even respond to my texts. To be honest, I thought we were done.” The words slipped out sharper than I meant, but they were true. I’d spent nights staring at my phone, waiting for three little dots that never came.“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly, eyes searching mine.I swallowed hard. The room felt smaller suddenly. “Anyway, what do you want to talk about, Jones? I’m listening.”He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he always

BellaI stared at the screen of my laptop in the campus library, heart pounding as I refreshed the student portal one more time. And there it was: my grades updated. The failing mark in Darrell’s class had flipped to a solid B. Passed. Scholarship safe. No more panic emails from financial aid. No more late-night spirals about dropping out.I let out a long, shaky breath and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes for a second. Relief washed over me like cool water—sharp, almost painful. Darrell had actually done it. He’d submitted the “correction” form, claimed it was a grading error on his end, and the department had bought it. They’d even sent him a mild reprimand email (I saw the thread in the system logs somehow). He took the hit so I didn’t have to.But the money in my account; the extra bundles he’d pressed into my hand, still felt like it was burning a hole through everything. Every time I thought about Mom using it for her treatments, gratitude tangled with shame. I’d bought