All Chapters of UNHOLY CRAVINGS: Dirty Shorts : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I returned to the living room with the taste of her still on my tongue and the memory of her cunt gripping my cock still vivid enough to keep me half-hard. No one seemed to notice the extra minutes I had been gone. The senior associates were deep in a conversation about a merger rumor. Their partners had moved on to travel plans. Mrs. Langford stood near the fireplace with a fresh glass of wine, listening and offering the occasional polite comment. When her eyes met mine across the room the look lasted only a second, but it carried everything we had just done in the guest bathroom—her legs around my waist, the wet sound of my dick moving inside her, the way she had come quietly against my shoulder while her husband talked to Singapore down the hall. I accepted another coffee I didn’t want and found a place to stand that kept me in her peripheral vision. Mr. Langford reappeared ten minutes later, phone still in hand, expression the same controlled mask he wore at the office. He apol

The hotel room was smaller than the booking photos suggested. Two queen beds separated by a narrow nightstand. A single window looking out over the parking lot. The air conditioner hummed too loudly in the corner. Our parents had taken the room across the hall after the front desk claimed only two doubles were left on the same floor. “You two are adults,” my mom had said with a tired smile. “Try not to kill each other before breakfast.” That left me and Jake. Jake was twenty-four, three years older, my stepbrother since I was sixteen. We had never shared a room before. On family trips he usually claimed the pull-out in the living area or disappeared with friends. Tonight the road had run long, the next decent stop was another two hours away, and the only option left was this. I dropped my bag on the bed closer to the window and pretended to check my phone while he locked the door behind us. He was still in the same gray T-shirt and dark jeans from the car, hair a little messy from

I didn’t go back to my own bed. Jake’s hand stayed on my hip under the sheet, thumb moving in slow arcs over my skin. The mess from his cock cooled between us. My shorts were still shoved halfway down one thigh. The quiet after what we had already done felt heavier than the quiet before it. I shifted closer, hooked my leg higher over his, and reached for him again. He was still half-hard, sticky from coming. I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked him back to full thickness with steady, unhurried pulls. Jake’s breath left him in a rough exhale. “What are you doing?” “Going further,” I whispered. “You dared me to touch. I’m not stopping at touching.” I pushed the sheet down, rose onto my knees beside him, and pulled my oversized T-shirt over my head. The cool hotel air tightened my nipples at once. Jake’s eyes moved over my bare tits in the grainy dark, then lower, to where my shorts and panties still hung tangled around one thigh. I kicked them the rest of the way off a

I saw her struggling with the bags from my driveway. Two paper sacks in each arm, a gallon of milk hooked on one finger, the trunk of her car still open. The afternoon sun caught the dark hair she had pulled back in a loose knot. She was wearing a soft white T-shirt and black leggings that followed the line of her legs without apology. I had lived next door for eleven months and still didn’t know her first name, only that her husband left early most mornings in a silver SUV and returned after dark. I crossed the lawn. “Need a hand?” She looked up, surprised, then smiled in a way that made the ordinary offer feel less ordinary. “Please. I think I misjudged the distance from the car to the door.” I took the heavier bags. Our fingers brushed in the exchange. She closed the trunk with her elbow and led the way up the short path to her front door. The house was the mirror of mine—same brick, same layout, only the plants in the beds were better kept. She unlocked the door and held it o

We didn’t move to the bedroom. Claire stayed under me on the couch for another few minutes, legs still loose around my hips, my come slowly leaking out of her onto the cushion. Her fingers traced idle lines along my back. The locked house felt suspended—no headlights in the driveway, no distant garage door, only the two of us and the quiet tick of the clock in the kitchen. “Again,” she said. I lifted my head. She was already looking at me with fresh heat in her eyes. I kissed her once, hard, then pulled out and stood. She watched me with open interest while I stayed naked in the middle of her living room, cock still half-hard and shiny from her. Claire sat up, wiped the mess between her thighs with her discarded tank top, and rose to her feet. “Kitchen,” she said. “I want the counter.” She walked ahead of me without bothering to pick up her clothes. The leggings and tank top stayed in a small pile on the couch. I followed the pale line of her bare back and the soft sway of her as