Dripping Forbidden: 100 Ways to Make Yourself Wet のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 111 - チャプター 120

Absolution Chapter 2: The Side Door I barely made it through the seven o’clock mass. Every word of the liturgy tasted wrong in my mouth. I kept seeing her face behind my closed eyes when I lifted the chalice. I kept hearing the wet sound of her fingers between her legs from the night before. When I gave the final blessing and said “Go in peace,” my voice cracked on the last syllable. A few of the older parishioners glanced up at me with concern. I forced a smile I did not feel and escaped to the sacristy as fast as I could without running. The church emptied slowly. I heard the heavy front doors close, one after another. The last footsteps faded down the stone steps. Then there was only the rain again, softer tonight, and the low hum of the old lights above the altar. I stayed in the sacristy with the door cracked, staring at the row of vestments hanging like silent witnesses. My cassock still felt tight across my chest. I had not changed out of it. Part of me wanted the collar ar

Absolution Chapter 4: What I Cannot Stop Three nights passed before I sent the message. I told myself I needed the space to think clearly. To pray. To remember who I was supposed to be. Instead I spent every hour replaying the way she had looked bent over the altar, the sound she made when I came inside her, the way my come had leaked down her thigh while she stood in front of the crucifix like she was waiting for judgment that never came. On the fourth night I finally gave in. I texted her from the rectory phone, something I had never done before. Simple. Direct. Come tonight. My quarters. Back entrance. Eleven. She replied within minutes. Okay, Father. That single word still made my cock twitch. I spent the next two hours trying to prepare myself. I showered. I changed into a clean black shirt and pants instead of the cassock, though the collar stayed around my throat like a habit I could not break. I locked the main door to my small apartment above the parish offices and

Chapter 2: Payment in FullMr. Tariq’s two thick fingers pushed deep inside my soaked pussy, stretching me open as I stood trembling against the wall. A broken moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. He curled his fingers expertly, stroking that sensitive spot inside me while his thumb pressed firmly against my swollen clit.“Already so wet for your landlord,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “Does your husband know what a needy little slut you are?”I shook my head, biting my lip hard as he pumped his fingers faster. The wet, obscene squelching sounds filled my small apartment. My juices were running down his hand and dripping onto the floor.“He… he doesn’t fuck me like this,” I admitted breathlessly, my hips rolling against his hand.Mr. Tariq chuckled darkly and added a third finger, stretching me wider. “Of course he doesn’t. He’s a boy. I’m a man. And tonight, this married pussy is going to learn what a real man feels like.”He fingered me harder,

Chapter 4: The New NormalMr. Tariq kept his word.The very next night, at exactly 9 PM, I heard the front door open without a knock. I was already waiting on my knees in the living room, completely naked except for a pair of black high heels, just like he had ordered. My husband was working the night shift again, completely unaware that his wife was about to serve her landlord.Mr. Tariq stepped inside, looking powerful and composed in his expensive suit. He closed the door and looked down at me with dark satisfaction.“Good girl,” he murmured, unbuckling his belt. “You’re learning fast.”He pulled out his thick cock, already half-hard, and fed it into my mouth without another word. I sucked him eagerly, taking him deep, drooling all over his shaft while he stood there like a king. He fucked my face slowly at first, then harder, holding my head in place as he used my throat.After several minutes, he pulled me up, bent me over the couch, and slammed into my pussy in one brutal thrust

Chapter 2: Morning After the Sin I woke up in the guest bedroom of the Harrison house with Ethan’s cum still slowly leaking out of me. My thighs were sticky, my pussy tender and swollen in the most delicious way. I stretched under the soft sheets, feeling the faint ache where he had fucked me so deep on that lounge chair. The memory made me press my legs together, trapping more of his dried seed against my skin. I had fallen asleep in his arms after the second round in the pool house, too wrecked to walk back to my own place next door. The clock on the nightstand read 7:15 a.m. Claire wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow night, but that didn’t stop the nervous flutter in my stomach. I slipped out of bed naked and padded to the window. Ethan’s car was still in the driveway. Good. He hadn’t left me here alone like some dirty one-night mistake. I found one of his old T-shirts in the dresser and pulled it on. It fell to mid-thigh, the soft cotton brushing against my bare pussy a