Accident Sex Stories นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The news that they had all heard startled them. They were gaping at Jason and Alicia as she flaunted her rings in his face. "When did this happen?" Leslie said when she recovered. She had seen Alicia recently and she could not recall seeing a diamond on her hand. "Last week when I visited him and the city," she said with a smile. "How did the bloggers not carry this? You have been a great source of joy to them since you two have been showing an awful amount of love to each other. It was titled A Love Across Cities by Chiachester's Dailies" Brian explains.

She squealed on seeing the diamond ring on it. "You weren't joking Rosa, how did you two meet? Have you had sex yet? Wait what I'm I even saying? Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?" She asked all at once. "Easy Sony, everything happened so fast, I was really overwhelmed and no we haven't had sex yet…the marriage was an accident," Rosaline replied. "What do you mean by accident?" Sonia asked in confusion, causing Rosaline to narrate everything to her. "This feels like a movie," Sonia muttered in awe.

Wow, straight in with the big questions. “I'm not sure how best to answer that, Georgina, so yes, we've had sex.” I try thinking of her other questions, and I get it. She likes details, a lot of details. I just don’t know how to say it without glowing like a beacon. “When, how, where and what happened?” She just has to interrupt me, insisting on knowing every fine detail. This is why we need a whole night to talk. “The morning of Liam's accident, we went to the bar, sat talking, and then went back to his house. He kind of fucked me in his kitchen on the side.” It sounds weird saying that out loud, far too weird.

You have to claim them. When he’d gone, because I wasn’t finished yet, I lay on the rumpled bed, and brought myself off with my fingers. I thought of how he’d behaved earlier, sadistic and cruel, reveling in my cries from the pinch of the clamps and the slam of his cock. Then I fell asleep for an hour or so. When I woke, my hair was in a crazy, damp tangle and my breasts were a mess of scratch marks and blotches. And he was probably eating wild turbot because he usually does when it’s on expenses at Saxby’s. I would too. The point I’m making: sex isn’t like it is in the movies; it isn’t even like porn. Sex isn’t like anything except itself.

The sting of being stood up was still there, but sitting across from this stranger — this man with kind eyes and a nervous little smile — it didn’t feel quite so heavy. They started talking. Awkward at first, then easier. He told her he owned a little bookshop. She told him she was an architect. The conversation moved fast, jumping from terrible dating stories to why certain buildings felt alive and others didn’t. Every time he laughed at something she said, her stomach flipped. The table was small. Too small. Their knees kept brushing. Each time it happened she felt that pulse between her thighs again. Stronger. She was getting wet. Actually wet, just from knees touching and the way he look

Ava The room smelled like sex — sweat, cum, and my own juices soaked into the sheets. My body was still twitching from the last orgasm, legs weak and trembling, but the four men surrounding me looked far from finished. Their eyes were dark, chests heaving, cocks still hard and glistening with a mix of my wetness and their previous loads. “Round two, our sweet whore,” Kai growled, grabbing my ankles and yanking my legs wide open again. “We’re not stopping until you can’t even speak.”

he gasped against my mouth, startled. “I need you, I want to have sex tonight that’s all I need” I growled, the words raw, torn from somewhere deep. My hands were already under his shirt, feeling every line, every part of his body. He shuddered. “You’re shaking. What happened?” I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t tell him. So I kissed him harder, swallowed his questions, pressed my dick into his skin. Adrian melted against me, fingers clutching at my shoulders, his lips parting under mine. The heat between us ignited fast, reckless. His shirt was gone before either of us realized it, his skin warm under my palms.

I was dangerously close. My back arched off the bed, two fingers buried deep inside my soaked pussy as I read the filthiest part of the story — the part where the two older men had the girl pinned between them, stretching both her holes while calling her their perfect little whore. “That’s it, baby. Take both our cocks like a good girl.” My thighs started shaking. I was right there… when my mother’s voice suddenly cut through the door. “Serena! Dinner!”

“One drink. And you stay close to me. No wandering off.” Relief flooded through me as well as something much more dangerous than that. “Thank you.” I’d told my best friend I was exploring for the night. I was supposed to give her the details after I was back, but how could I tell her I met her father at a BDSM club and told him to show me around?

The care felt deeply intimate and loving, a reminder of why I had chosen this life with him. Just as I began to drift toward sleep, Morello’s touch shifted. His fingers trailed more deliberately across my skin, brushing over my nipples, sliding down my abdomen, and finally wrapping loosely around my cock beneath the water. He stroked me slowly, teasingly, until I stirred and opened my eyes. "Remember the last time we had sex, amore?" he asked, his voice turning husky, a playful glint lighting his eyes. I blinked, still hazy. "Today. I had sex with clients. Two of them, actually, in the same session."