All Chapters of 100 Nights of Forbidden Fire : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

91 Chapters

51: Teaching the Little Intern I

Teaching The Little Intern I A low growl of an engine broke the silence of the hospital's garage, and she turned to look, the headlights from the car momentarily blinding her. A sleek, dark sedan, a model she recognized as his, glided to a stop a few feet away. The driver's side window purred down, revealing Don's face, etched in shadow and light. He was her supervisor, and now he was going to take her pussy... just the way he did every night. His dark eyes, usually softened by a professorial gaze, held a predatory glint. A faint scent of his cologne, rich and woody, drifted to her. "Took you long enough," he murmured, his voice a low thrum that vibrated through the damp air. A corner of his mouth twitched, a hint of a smile. "Or were you having second thoughts this time around?" Michelle’s breath hitched. "Never," she managed, her voice a little breathier than she intended. She moved towards the car, the sound of her sensible hospital shoes squeaking on the concrete. "Just... It's

52: Teaching the Little Intern II

Teaching The Little Intern IIMICHELLE'S breath caught. It was even bigger than she had imagined... it was a formidable, throbbing piece of flesh that made her pussy clench in anticipation. He knelt between her legs, pushing them apart. "Look at you," he rasped, his eyes devouring her. "So wet already. You're practically begging for it." Her pussy throbbed, a dull ache that demanded relief. She could feel it pulsing with anticipation, wondering how that hot length would stretch every inch of her horny pussy. "Please, Don. Sir... I need it." He didn't hesitate. He took her clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently, expertly. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her, arching her back. "Oh, God," she whimpered, her hips beginning to grind against his hand. What was this feeling? What was... Fuck! He leaned down, his tongue flicking out, tasting her wetness. "Sweet," he growled, his voice muffled against her skin. He began to lap at her, his tongue circling her clit, th

53: When Aunty Is Gone I

When Aunty Is Gone I THE sound of the car engine faded and the crunch of tires on gravel disappeared entirely. A thick and heavy silence settled over the kitchen. Kate watched the empty driveway, a strange mix of relief and dread tightening her chest. Her aunt’s car was gone. “She’s really gone, then.” Serbia’s voice, a low rumble from behind her, made her jump. He stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy smile playing on his lips. His eyes, dark and knowing, swept over her, lingering on the curve of her breasts beneath her thin t-shirt. The air crackled. Kate turned, her hands finding the cool edge of the kitchen island. “She always goes to work.” Her voice sounded thin. She knew what he meant, what they both meant... The house was empty now. “Always,” he echoed, pushing himself off the doorframe. He moved with a predator’s slow grace, closing the distance between them. Each step pulled the air tighter. “She always leaves us alone.” She swallowed, her gaze darti

54: When Aunty Is Gone II

When Aunty Is Gone IIHIS thumb brushed against her clitoris, a feather-light touch that made her whole body clench. She gasped, her hips instinctively arching into his hand. “There it is,” he murmured, his thumb circling, pressing, teasing. “Your little button. So sensitive.” He watched her face, the way her eyes fluttered shut, the soft flush spreading across her cheeks. “You’re such a good girl. So eager.” He moved her, gently but firmly, lifting her onto the kitchen island. The cool, smooth surface pressed against her bare ass. She lay back, exposed and vulnerable with her legs dangling over the edge. He stood between them, his hand still working magic between her thighs. “Look at you,” he purred, his eyes raking over her body. “My beautiful, eager slut. Spread those legs for Uncle.” Her legs parted without a conscious thought, inviting him to take her. He groaned in response his fingers delved deeper, one finding her slick opening, another pressing firmly on her clit. He bega

55: Making Her Best Friend's Mother Submissive I

Making Her Best friend's Mother Submissive I ELAINE leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Willow. Her best friend’s mother, Willow, moved with an unconscious grace, gathering the last of the vegetables for the Thanksgiving feast. Her hair, a rich auburn, caught the dim kitchen light, a few strands escaping the loose bun at her nape. The fabric of her apron stretched taut across her hips when she bent to retrieve a forgotten potato from the bottom shelf. Elaine’s throat tightened. “Need a hand, Willow?” Elaine’s voice, a low murmur, seemed to vibrate in the quiet space. Willow straightened, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Oh, Elaine, darling, you don’t have to. Go enjoy the company. We’re almost ready.” She gestured vaguely towards the overflowing basket of carrots and cucumbers on the counter. “Just these to wash and chop.” “Nonsense.” Elaine pushed off the doorframe, her steps deliberate, closing the distance between them. “I came all this way. The least I can do is help.”

56: Making Her Best Friend's Mother Submissive II

Making Her Best friend's Mother Submissive II AS Elaine deepened the kiss, her hand, still clutching the cucumber, pressed harder against Willow’s crotch. The fabric of her panties was already damp. “So wet for me, aren’t you, you little whore?” Elaine pulled back just enough to whisper, her eyes burning into Willow’s. “All those years, and you’re still a virgin for this, aren’t you? A fresh little pussy for me to break in.” Willow whimpered again, her eyes fluttering closed. The rough words, the illicit touch, were overwhelming. She felt a fire ignite inside her, a heat she’d never known. Her hips began to move, a slow, unconscious grind against the cucumber. Elaine grinned, a feral gleam in her eyes. “That’s it. You like that, don’t you, bitch? You like being touched like this. You like feeling exposed.” She pulled the cucumber away for a moment, then, with a swift, deliberate movement, she pushed it under the elastic of Willow’s panties, guiding the tip against her clit. Willow

Daddy, Please Let Me Cum

Daddy, please let me cum THE faint glow of the kitchen light barely pushed back the pre-dawn gloom. Claire hunched over the dining table, a textbook spread open, the thin fabric of her nightshirt clinging to her skin. The chill of the house seeped into her, but a different kind of heat began to prickle the back of her neck. A shadow stretched long and distorted across the polished wood, then enveloped her. A hand, large and warm, settled on her shoulder. Her breath hitched. "Well, well, what have we here? A studious little girl, or just looking for attention?" Finn’s voice, a low rumble, vibrated against her ear, too close. He leaned in, his scent—a mix of stale whiskey and something musky, distinctly male—filling her nostrils. She flinched, pulling her shoulder away, but his grip tightened. "Just studying, Daddy." The word felt foreign, a lie on her tongue. "Studying, hmm?" His fingers traced the delicate curve of her collarbone, then dipped lower, brushing the edge of her flims

58: Savouring My Father's Wife I

Savouring My Father's Wife I MY hand found the doorknob, cool metal beneath my fingers. I pushed it open and the faint scent of something floral was already reaching me. I recognized the smell of the soap. It smelled like Laura. The bathroom light was on, spilling into the hall. I heard the shower stop, water still dripping against the tile. Dad left this morning, another business trip, another week of just me and Laura. A week. The thought had been a slow burn in my gut since he packed his bags. I stepped inside, not really thinking. Just moving. She stood there with a towel loosely draped over her head and her back to me. Naked. My breath hitched. The steam still clung to the air, making the edges of her silhouette soft, hazy. Her skin, pearlescent in the soft light, goosebumps rising on her arms. My eyes traced the curve of her spine, the dip at her waist, the swell of her ass. My cock twitched, a sudden, insistent throb. “Marcus?” she let out a surprised gasp at my presence.

59: Savouring My Father's Wife II

Savouring My Father's Wife IISHE gasped, a raw, shocked sound. Her hands, which had been pressing against my chest, now dropped and her soft fingers splayed against my skin, not pushing, but grasping. “You can’t… you can’t talk to me like that.” “I can talk to you however I want. And I’m going to do whatever I want.” I leaned in to kiss her, my lips capturing hers with a hungry, demanding press. Her mouth was soft, hesitant at first, then opening slightly. My tongue darted in, exploring the warm cavern, tasting the lingering mint from her toothpaste, mixing with the musky scent of her skin. She moaned into the kiss, a deep, throaty sound that vibrated through me. Her hands moved, gripping my shoulders, then sliding up to tangle in my hair, pulling, urging me closer. I deepened the kiss, sucking on her tongue, then her bottom lip, drawing a soft whimper from her. My hand, still between her legs, found her clit, a small, hard pearl, already swollen and sensitive. I rubbed it, a slow

60

THE doorbell’s chime rang through the quiet afternoon, a sound I knew too well... My heart gave a familiar flutter, a mix of dread and a pulsing heat that started low in my belly. I was already running late for lunch with Val, the restaurant reservation ticking down like a bomb. "Oh, no,” I whispered to the empty air, but my feet moved anyway as if I was drawn by an invisible current. I pulled open the heavy oak door. There he stood, Dom, my stepfather, filling the frame. His eyes, dark as polished obsidian, held a knowing glint. My gaze dropped to my first lunch immediately. His shorts, unzipped and riding low, revealed the immense, dark head of his cock, already straining against the fabric. It swung gently between his legs like a hypnotic pendulum. “Going somewhere, Rinda?” His voice, a low rumble, vibrated through my body. My throat felt tight, a band of anticipation clenching it. “Yes, Dom. I’m meeting Val for lunch.” He took a step closer, the air around him thick, heavy wi

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