Semua Bab Daddy's Lessons in Pleasure - Erotica Collection: Bab 41 - Bab 50

◆◆◆ Chapter 2 ◆◆◆Dickson barely slept. Every time his eyelids dropped, the images assaulted him: Maya’s oiled palm wrapped around Marcus’s thick shaft, the slow glide of her cunt swallowing him whole, the way Marcus’s hips had rolled up to meet her like he was starving. Worse… his own cock had jerked in response, leaking against his thigh even as guilt clawed his throat.By 2:17 a.m. he was dressed and in the car, Sarah’s spare key burning a hole in his pocket like a live coal. He told himself he just needed answers. Closure. One last conversation to understand why five years had evaporated.The drive felt surreal, he couldn’t wait to get to her apartment and demand answers. Her building loomed dark except for the warm glow in her bedroom window. Hope flickered stupidly in his chest. Maybe she was awake. Maybe she missed him too.He let himself in with trembling hands. The apartment smelled the same… her vanilla candle, her perfume, the faint trace of the shea butter lotion she love

Lesbian Takes Cock: 1 ◆◆◆ Chapter 1 ◆◆◆I should have taken the stairs.The thought crossed my mind as I stepped into the sleek elevator of the Meridian Towers, but I’d already climbed four flights at my current apartment that morning, hauling boxes, and my legs were screaming. Besides, I was running late for the apartment viewing. So I pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and leaned against the cool metal wall, checking my phone for Maya’s good luck text.The elevator lurched upward, and I was alone with my thoughts for exactly six seconds before the doors slid open on the third floor.He stepped in.I noticed his height first, easily six-two, maybe taller. Dark hair, slightly disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it. Sharp jawline. He wore a fitted white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing forearms corded with muscle and faint veins that stood out when he flexed. He nodded at me with a polite smile, pressed a button, and settled into the

◆◆◆ Chapter 3 ◆◆◆I should have known something was wrong when Maya started working late three nights in a row. Should have noticed when she stopped initiating sex, when her texts became shorter, when she started checking her phone obsessively during our dates.But I was too busy fighting my own demons to notice hers.It was a Tuesday afternoon when my world imploded. I'd finished my classes early and decided to surprise Maya at her apartment with takeout from her favorite Thai place. I still had the key she'd given me six months ago, back when things were simple and I knew exactly who I was.I let myself in quietly, planning to set up the food and maybe draw her a bath for when she got home from “work.”The sounds hit me first. Heavy breathing. A male groan. The rhythmic creak of bedsprings.My body went numb. The takeout bag slipped from my fingers, landing with a muffled thud on the hardwood floor.I stood frozen as the sounds continued, as my mind tried to process what I was heari

◆◆◆ Chapter 2 ◆◆◆ I spent the entire weekend hiding in my apartment, ignoring texts from classmates who suddenly found me fascinating for all the wrong reasons. The humiliation replayed on loop as my own words, my deepest, most depraved fantasies, were read aloud in front of everyone while Darian Rho watched with those unreadable dark eyes that seemed to strip me bare without ever touching me. Monday morning, I discovered my diary was missing. Tuesday afternoon, the first text arrived from an unknown number: “Page 23. The elevator fantasy. Creative use of the emergency stop button.” Wednesday: “Page 47. You have a thing for being watched, don’t you, Jessica? You want eyes on you while you come undone.” By Thursday, I was a wreck. Each message quoted another explicit line, another shameful confession. It was proof he’d devoured every word, every filthy detail I’d never meant for daylight. My thighs clenched every time my phone buzzed, arousal warring with mortification until I cou

◆◆◆ Chapter 3 ◆◆◆ I lasted three days before I texted him. The words felt impossible to type: “Page five. The library. Tonight at closing.” His response was immediate: “I’ll be there.” The graduate library closed at midnight on weekends, and I’d written in my diary about how the fourth floor was always deserted after ten, how the study carrels in the back created a maze of privacy, how the thought of being taken there, where I’d spent so many lonely nights studying while everyone else was out living, held a certain poetic justice. I arrived at 11:30. He was already there, sitting in the exact carrel I’d described, reading my diary again. “You’re early,” I said, my voice barely audible. “So are you.” He set the diary down, his eyes traveling over me, from the dress I’d changed into three times, the heels I never wore, to the confidence I was desperately faking. “Nervous?” “Terrified,” I admitted. “Good.” He stood, closing the distance between us. “You wrote that you wanted to