DIRTY DREAMS (AN EROTICA COLLECTION) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

The family reunion is chaos.Fifty people crammed into Aunt Margaret’s house, all talking at once, kids screaming, someone’s new boyfriend trying too hard to impress, Grandma asking when I’m getting married for the third time in an hour.I last forty-five minutes before I steal a bottle of wine from the kitchen and escape to the basement.The stairs creak under my feet. The noise fades as I descend into the cool, dim space below. It’s quieter here – just the muffled thump of footsteps overhead, the distant roar of conversation.I don’t expect anyone else to be here.But there they are.My step-uncle Marcus – Aunt Carol’s second husband, no blood relation to anyone upstairs – sprawled on the old leather couch with a whiskey glass. Forty-two, silver-streaked hair, the kind of jaw that gets better with age.And my step-cousin Ryan. Mom’s third husband’s son, which makes him nothing to me except a name on the Christmas card list. Twenty-five, built like he lives at the gym, watching me co

The app looks exactly like Uber.Same interface. Same map. Same little car icons moving through digital streets. The only difference is the destination codes – specific combinations that mean something else entirely to those who know.I type in the address of a restaurant downtown. Add a period after the street number. Then a dash before the city name.Request confirmed. Your driver Marcus will arrive in 3 minutes.My heart is already pounding.I found this service through a friend of a friend – a woman at a party who’d had too much wine and confided her darkest fantasy. Getting into a car with strangers. Being taken somewhere she didn’t expect. Losing control completely.“It’s like Uber,” she’d whispered, “but the destination is you.”The intake process was thorough. Video call verification. Background check. STI screening. A detailed questionnaire about limits and desires and intensity preferences.How many participants? What setting? What level of resistance do you want to perform?

He pushes.The pain is sharp – a white-hot flare that makes me gasp and clench and try to pull away. But his hands grip my hips, holding me in place, and he doesn’t stop. Just pushes harder, forcing past the resistance, sinking into my ass inch by agonizing inch."Fuck – ” I’m screaming now, tears streaming down my face. ”It hurts – please – it’s too much – "“Shh.” His hand snakes around my body, finds my clit. Starts rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. “I’ll make it feel good. Just breathe. Let me in.”The pleasure mixes with the pain. Confuses my body. Makes me clench around him in ways I can’t control – which only intensifies everything, makes me feel him more acutely, every ridge and vein of his curved cock pressing against nerve endings I didn’t know I had.“That’s better.” He sinks deeper, another inch, then another. “Your ass is swallowing me. Opening up. Like it was made for this.”He bottoms out.I feel his hips pressed against my ass, his balls resting against my dripping

My grandfather was old money, old fashioned, and apparently old perverted.I never knew him well – he disapproved of my mother’s second marriage, called my stepdad “common stock” at Thanksgiving dinner once, and mostly communicated through lawyers and holiday cards with checks that got smaller every year.When he died last month, I expected nothing.I was wrong.The lawyer’s office is all dark wood and leather chairs, the kind of old-money aesthetic my grandfather would have approved of. My stepdad sits beside me in a suit he clearly borrowed, uncomfortable and out of place. My mother couldn’t make it – “work emergency,” which means she didn’t want to deal with her father’s ghost even in legal form.So it’s just me, my stepdad Richard, and a lawyer named Harrison Wells who looks like he stepped out of a period drama – silver hair, sharp jaw, the kind of distinguished handsomeness that comes from generations of good breeding and better tailors.“Miss Ashford,” Wells begins, opening a l

Wells is different.Where Richard was passionate, desperate, years of denied want pouring out – Wells is controlled. Methodical. Like he’s conducting an experiment and my body is the subject.He doesn’t start by fucking me.He starts by examining me.“Lie back,” he instructs. “Spread your legs. I want to assess the primary deposit.”I lie back on the desk. Spread my legs. Let him look at my pussy – swollen, well-fucked, Richard’s cum dripping from my hole.Wells produces a small penlight from his pocket. Shines it between my legs.“Good volume,” he murmurs. “Deep penetration. The cervix appears accessible.” He looks up at me. “Mr. Ashford did well for a first attempt.”“Thank you,” Richard says dryly from somewhere behind him.Wells sets down the penlight. Positions himself between my legs.“I’m going to add my deposit now,” he says clinically. “To maximize coverage. I recommend keeping your hips elevated afterward.”He pushes in.Slow. Deliberate. Letting me feel every inch of his cu