Naked Scripts (Erotica Collection) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

CHAPTER 5MIACal’s eyes are blown black. “Fuck, Jonah—”“Shut up,” Jonah mutters, and kisses him again, deeper, dirtier.They’re grinding now, cocks sliding together, both hard again.I’m dripping, fingers slipping through the mess they left on me, rubbing faster.Jonah pulls back, voice wrecked. “Cal. Bend over.”Cal’s breath hitches. “You serious?”“You want it?” Jonah asks, softer now.Cal swallows hard, then nods. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.”Jonah grabs the lube from the coffee table and slicks his fingers fast.Cal bends over the arm of the couch, ass up, face inches from my pussy.I spread my legs wider. “Hi,” I whisper, grinning.He laughs shakily. “Hi, baby.”Jonah’s behind him now, one hand stroking Cal’s back. “Relax for me, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”Cal nods, forehead pressed to my thigh. “Just… go slow at first.”Jonah works him open carefully, one finger, then two, crooking them until Cal jolts and moans loud enough to echo.“Fuck—right there—Jonah—”I’m mesmerized. My fi

MECHANIC’S PAYMENTCHAPTER 1RILEY11:47 p.m. and I’m bent over the still-warm hood of my own car, tits smashed against the metal, skirt rucked up to my waist, pussy stretched so wide around Jax’s monster cock that every thrust feels like it’s rearranging my organs.“Fuck yes—harder—don’t stop—” The words rip out of me raw echoing off the half-open roll-up door into the empty side street. Anyone walking by would hear exactly what’s happening, and I don’t even care.Jax’s huge, tattooed hands dig bruises into my hips as he slams in again, balls slapping my clit, the wet sound obscene in the quiet garage.“Jesus, Riley,” he growls, voice gravel and smoke. “This tight little cunt’s trying to milk me already. Are you that starved for dick?”“Yes—fuck—yes—” I sob, pushing back to meet him. “It’s been forever—so big—gonna break me—”He laughs, dark and filthy, and spanks my ass hard enough to sting. “That’s the plan, baby girl. Gonna wreck you so good you’ll feel me for a week every time yo

CHAPTER 3RILEYBy the fourth night, I could barely walk. My legs were jelly, my pussy throbbing like a war drum, ass still leaking Jax’s cum from the brutal pounding he’d given me in the shop’s back room. I’d shown up at 11:45 p.m. sharp, skirt hiked, panties in my purse, and he’d bent me over the workbench, fucked me senseless in every hole until I was sobbing his name. Seven nights for a thirteen-hundred-dollar repair? Worth every aching step. But damn, my thighs burned the next morning, and I wobbled into work like I’d run a marathon on my knees.The fifth day—Friday, thank God—was a blur of spreadsheets and coffee runs at my boring admin job in the downtown high-rise. My boss, Mr. Hargrove, was a balding prick who thought “team player” meant fetching his dry cleaning. Around noon, he buzzed me into his office, tossing a set of keys across the desk like they were trash.“Riley, take these down to the mechanic in the underground lot. He finished my Beemer early. Tell him thanks fro

ELEVATOR TRAPCHAPTER 1The elevator lurches, groans like it’s dying, and stops dead between the 14th and 15th floor.Brenda lets out a frustrated little huff. She’s already sweating in the July heat, her thin white sundress clinging to every curve. The AC is gone. The lights flicker once and settle into a dim emergency glow.“Great,” she mutters, fanning herself. “Just fucking great.”Zach, leaning against the opposite wall, raises an eyebrow. “You were already pissy before we got in here, Bren. Boyfriend still not answering his phone?”Brenda glares at him, cheeks pink. “Shut up.”He smirks. “He still hasn’t made you come in, what, three weeks? That why you’re practically vibrating?”“I said shut up, Zach.”But she is vibrating. She’s been on edge since this morning, panties soaked from a dream she definitely shouldn’t have had about the guy currently trapped in here with her. Her stepbrother. Tall, broad, stupidly hot, and way too aware of it.The heat climbs fast. Sweat beads betw

CHAPTER 32:17 a.m.The house is dead quiet except for the soft creak of Brenda’s bare feet on the hallway floor. She’s wearing nothing but Zach’s old black football T-shirt (the one that smells like him), hanging to mid-thigh, hem brushing the tops of her thighs with every step. No panties. Already soaked.She pushes his bedroom door open without knocking.Moonlight spills across his bed. Zach is awake, propped on one elbow, sheet low on his hips, eyes dark and hungry the second he sees her.“Took you long enough,” he rasps.Brenda shuts the door, clicks the lock, and yanks the T-shirt over her head in one motion.“Been dripping since the kitchen,” she whispers, crawling onto the bed like a predator. “Need my stepbrother to fix it.”Zach growls and lunges.He flips her onto her back, shoves her legs over his shoulders, folds her damn near in half, and slams home in one brutal thrust.Brenda screams into the pillow he shoves over her face.“Shh,” he hisses, hips already snapping. “Par