All Chapters of Naked Scripts: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

CHAPTER 3CHLOEHe fucks me through another orgasm, then another, until I’m limp and begging.“Gonna breed you right here,” he growls, slamming deep. “Gonna leave you dripping on this couch for days.”“Do it,” I cry. “Fill me up, Daddy—”He comes with a roar, cock pulsing, pumping me so full it leaks out instantly, soaking the cushion beneath us.He stays inside me, both of us panting, the purple glow lighting up our sweat-slick skin.“Movie night’s my new favorite,” he murmurs, kissing my shoulder.I laugh breathlessly, feeling him drip out of me onto the couch we’ll never look at the same again.“Same time tomorrow, Daddy?”He smacks my ass. “Count on it, baby girl.”Two days laterRyan’s hand clamps around my wrist the second I step out of my room in a towel.“Shower. Now,” he growls. “Mom calls in thirteen minutes. You’re gonna learn to keep that pretty face perfectly innocent while I’m balls-deep inside you.”I’m already soaked just from the words.The master bath is all steam an

PERSONAL TRAINERCHAPTER 1BROOKEI open the door in my tightest black Lululemon set, ponytail high, smile sweet.“Hi, Alex. Thanks for coming to the house. The club’s just… too crowded.”Alex steps inside, all six-three of tanned muscle and quiet authority, duffel slung over one shoulder. His eyes flick down my body once (professional, but not really).“No problem, Brooke. Private sessions are better anyway. More… focused.”We set up in the home gym: mirrored wall, rubber floor, yoga mats, light dumbbells.He’s almost professional for the first forty minutes.“Squeeze the glutes at the top of the lunge.”“Chest up on push-ups. Good girl.”“Core tight, hips back… perfect.”But I feel his gaze burning every time I bend over.Cool-down stretch.He kneels in front of me, guiding me into a deep hip-flexor lunge. One of my knees on the mat, the other leg extended back.“Drop lower,” he murmurs, hands settling on my hips. “Open those hips for me.”I sink down and immediately feel him pressi

CHAPTER 3BROOKEI text Alex at 11:07 a.m.Brooke: Husband’s office is empty all day. 37th floor. Code 4829. Bring tape measureHis reply is instant.Alex: On my way, princess.Twenty minutes later the private elevator dings. He steps out in tailored black joggers and a fitted gray tee, duffel slung over one shoulder, eyes already dark.I’m waiting in a charcoal pencil skirt, silk blouse unbuttoned just enough, heels sky-high, wedding ring glinting under the recessed lights.“Measurements, huh?” he says, voice low, locking the door behind him. “Sure, baby.”He doesn’t waste time.He backs me against the floor-to-ceiling windows first, downtown sprawling thirty-seven stories below, and kisses me filthy while his hands map every curve like he’s taking inventory.Then he turns, eyes on the massive mahogany desk.“Skirt up. Sit.”I perch on the edge. He sweeps an arm across the contracts, Montblanc pens, a framed family photo crash to the carpet.“Legs over my shoulders. Now.”I obey, ski

CHAPTER 2AVATwo days later, the bell jingles at 5:57 p.m.Mark steps in, tie already loose, raincoat slung over one arm, eyes finding me like magnets. The line had been brutal all afternoon, but now the shop is empty except for the low hum of the cooler and the patter of rain on the roof.I’m behind the counter in the green apron again—nothing underneath, tits barely contained, nipples pierced and hard against the fabric, skirt nonexistent today.He locks the door behind him without asking. Flip. Click.“Drive-thru side,” I whisper, crooking a finger.His eyebrow arches. “You serious?”I’m already moving, hips swaying, apron strings brushing my bare ass. The drive-thru window counter is narrow, stainless steel, still warm from the afternoon rush. Cars idle outside in the evening crawl—headlights glowing through the tinted glass, horns honking faintly in the distance.I hop up, turn, bend over the counter so my tits press against the cool metal, ass out toward him, apron flipped up l

CHAPTER 2KATIEI stare at the paper taped to my mirror and feel my stomach drop.Top 10 Subscriber Requests#9: Anal training → big plugs on stream → real anal creampie#8: …#7: …The list goes all the way to #1, but my eyes keep sticking on number nine like it’s written in neon.Zach leans in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking.“Chat’s been begging for your ass for months, KittyKat. Time to give the people what they paid for.”I hug myself in my tiny silk robe. “Zach, I’ve never… not on camera. Not even off camera.”He shrugs. “Then today’s a perfect day to start. Faces stay out of frame like always. They’ll just think it’s roleplay. ‘Stepbro’ stuff sells. Relax.”My voice cracks. “It’s not roleplay anymore.”He steps closer, lifts my chin. “Exactly. Which is why you’re gonna make bank tonight. Set the camera. Ass-up angle. I’ll do the rest.”I want to scream, but the memory of that email draft flashes in my head.I whisper, “Okay.”Thirty minutes later the ring light is on, the t