Todos os capítulos de Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

We stood like that for a long moment, both of us breathing heavily, both of us completely wrecked."Someone's going to notice we're gone," I said finally, my voice hoarse."I know," he said. He didn't pull out immediately. Instead, he held me close, his arms wrapping around me from behind.But even as we stood there, I could feel his cock hardening again inside me. The sensation sent another spike of arousal through my body."You can't be serious," I said. "We just—""I know," he interrupted. "But we've got maybe one more minute before someone comes looking. And I'm not done with you."He pulled out and turned me around, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he pushed back inside me in one smooth motion.The angle was different—deeper, more intimate. My back was pressed against the small bathroom door, and I could feel the vibration of the plane around us."People can hear us," I gasped as he began moving again."I know," he said. "Do you care?""No," I admitted. "God

He set me down on the desk and immediately started pulling down my pants. When I was completely naked, spread out on his desk, he positioned himself between my legs."Tell me you want this," he said. "Tell me you've been thinking about this too.""I want it so badly," I gasped. "I think about you constantly. I think about this constantly.""How do you think about it?" he asked. "Tell me.""I think about you inside me," I said, the words tumbling out. "I think about you fucking me. I think about—" I paused, suddenly shy."Don't stop," he said. "Tell me.""I think about being your dirty girl," I whispered. "I think about you using me. I think about being your slut."Something shifted in his expression—his eyes got darker, more intense. He clearly loved hearing me degrade myself."That's right," he said. "You're my dirty girl. You're going to be my whore on this desk."He didn't ease into me. He positioned himself and pushed inside with no preamble, no easing in.I gasped at the invasion

I saw him across the conference ballroom and my entire body went rigid.Professor James Mitchell. The man who'd consumed my thoughts for an entire semester four years ago when I was a naive twenty-year-old student in his literature class. The man I'd fantasized about constantly, convinced that my attraction was one-sided and pathetic.But I wasn't twenty anymore. I was twenty-four, had graduated two years ago, had built a career in publishing. I was here as a professional, not as a student. And more importantly, he was no longer my professor—the power dynamic that had made any relationship inappropriate had completely dissolved.He looked exactly the same as I remembered. Maybe slightly older, but that just made him more attractive. Tall, with dark hair shot through with just enough gray to be distinguished. Sharp features, intelligent eyes, the kind of presence that made people naturally gravitate toward him.He was talking to a group of academics, but even as I watched, he seemed to

His pace became harder, faster, more aggressive. The bed was shaking with the force of his thrusts. I could hear the obscene sound of his cock moving in and out of my wet pussy, and the sound alone was enough to push me toward climax again."Come again," he commanded. "I want to feel you come again."I did. This orgasm was different from the first—deeper, more intense, more all-consuming. It started in my core and spread through my entire body, leaving me shaking and gasping his name."Yes," he hissed. "Yes, come on my cock. Milk me. Let me feel that pussy squeeze me."I was completely overwhelmed, completely lost in the sensation of him inside me. My pussy was spasming around him, my body taking what it needed from him.He was getting close—I could feel it in the way his thrusts were becoming more erratic, the way his breathing was becoming ragged."I'm going to come," he said. "Where do you want it?""Inside me," I gasped without thinking. "Come inside me. I don't care. I just want y

I reached down and found my own clit, rubbing it while I continued riding him. I didn't care that he could see me doing it. I didn't care what he thought. This was for me, not for him."I'm such a dirty whore," I said, the words tumbling out. "I'm such a fucking slut for reclaiming my own sexuality."The degradation, when it came from my own mouth, didn't feel like shame. It felt like power. I was naming myself, defining myself, refusing to let anyone else control that narrative.I came hard, my entire body convulsing around him, my pussy clenching rhythmically around his shaft. But instead of slowing down after my orgasm, I continued moving, my pace relentless."Stop," he gasped. "I'm going to come.""I don't care," I said. "Come inside me. Fill me with your cum. Prove that I made you come, that my body was good enough for what you wanted."He groaned, his cock throbbing inside me, his release flooding my pussy as his body shook beneath mine.But I didn't stop. I continued riding him