All Chapters of Ruined By The Coby Twins: An Erotic Cumpilation: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

LORI'S POV I wiped the sweat from my brow. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like a swarm of pissed-off bees. Six months. That's how long I'd been trading jabs with Dr. Kevin McHale, the senior doc who strutted around the ward like he owned every IV drip and patient chart. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with those massive hands that made my stomach flip every time he scribbled orders or adjusted a bandage. I hated how they lingered in my mind during quiet moments. Imagining them gripping my ass, sliding between my thighs. And I most hated the way the other female nurses lustfully flocked around him like he was the next best thing after fucking penicillin! But admitting that? Hell no! Instead, we argued. Over meds, schedules… stupid shit that masked the heat building under my scrubs. The ward had gone dead quiet at midnight. No emergencies, no scrambling to patients. Just the hum of monitors and the distant beep of the elevator. I slumped into the

LORI'S POV And I meant it. I wasn't going to listen to that threat. Like Dr. Kevin hadn't enjoyed exploring the depths of my needy pussy. Something shifted in me after that supply closet. Something that felt a lot like boldness. I walked the ward like I knew something no one else did. Like I was carrying a secret under my skin and every time Dr. Kevin looked at me, I let him see just enough of it. Honestly, there was a particular satisfaction I felt in knowing how big he was under that white coat. I knew what those large hands could do when patient charts weren’t involved. What that controlled, authoritative voice sounded like when it wasn't giving orders, but was breathing filthy things down my neck. Fuck! I had stopped looking away when his eyes found mine across the ward. And he noticed. Of course, Dr. Kevin noticed everything. Yet he hadn't made any move. So, Tuesday morning I brushed past him in the medication room. Closer than necessary. My arm gra

PROF. BARBARA'S POV I bit my lip. Hard. The taste of blood hit my tongue as I scanned the lecture hall. My eyes locked on Wally. That skinny little fucker. Nineteen and full of mouth. Well, not for long. Last week, he snapped at me in front of everyone. Called me a 'know-it-all bitch' when I corrected his bullshit answer. “Honestly,” he had retorted right in front of the whole class. “You don’t have to try and prove you’re the smartest person in the room every ten minutes. It’s a class, not your personal show… Prof. Barb.” Insolent brat! I acted like I wasn't embarrassed. Like I wasn't mad… infuriated at the little twerp. Instead, I maintained my practiced professionalism. But I saw it. The way his gaze dropped to my fat ass every time I turned to the board. The exact same way it had been dropping from the very first day I was introduced to their class. He wanted me... bad. And now? I'd make him pay. He'd pay with that huge cock I knew hid u

PROF. BARBARA'S POVWally couldn't concentrate anymore.I knew because I'd been watching him for days after the locker room, while I taught from the front of the lecture hall Every time I turned from the whiteboard his eyes dropped. Not to his notes. To my chest. The way my blouse pulled across it when I raised my arm to write. The way the fabric shifted when I leaned forward over the podium.His notebook was empty.His pen hadn't moved once.His rock hard dick underneath the desk told me everything else I needed to know.Still, I kept my face completely professional.Called on other students. Answered questions. Walked the aisles between desks in my heels, pausing at his row just long enough to lean across the desk beside his.Enough for him to catch a generous view of my aching boobs.Because that was next.He couldn't continue calling me Mommy like that. I had to give him Mommy treatment… breatfeed him.Silly me!A mommy just wanting to make her boy happy.His breath caught

TASHA'S POV Listen gurrlls… Being a stripper is a whole lifestyle. The prep alone?? Takes two fucking hours… minimum. Hair. Skin. Nails. The kind of confidence you have to build from scratch every single night before you walk into that club and own every inch of the pole. And tonight I had a high-paying client. Which meant I needed my lucky bikini. So, I tore frantically through my drawer for the third time. Pushed past the regular sets, the ones I wore for uneventful nights. It wasn't there. I checked under the bed. Behind the vanity. In the damn bathroom where it absolutely should not have been. Still nothing! "Looking for this?" I spun around. It was Macy. Standing in the doorway in my oversized shirt looking entirely too comfortable. My lucky g-string dangling from one finger like a trophy. I took a breath through my nose. "Give me that." She didn't move. Just watched me with those eyes that meant she had already decided how t