Black Hood Tranny Porn Novels & Stories

“Come for me, baby. Come on the groom’s cock while his bride is downstairs picking roses for their wedding.” I shattered hard, clenching around him, biting my arm to muffle my cry. Mr. Blackwood groaned and buried himself to the hilt, flooding me with hot, thick ropes of cum. He kept thrusting through it, pushing every drop deep inside me. When he finally pulled out, a thick river of his cum ran down my thighs. He scooped some up with his fingers and pushed it back inside me. “Keep it there,” he ordered, voice rough with satisfaction. “I want you walking around my wedding planning meetings tomorrow with the groom’s load still leaking out of you.”

He stood behind me and ran two fingers through my pussy, chuckling when he felt how wet I still was. “Disgusting,” he murmured. “You’re still leaking my cum and you’re already wet again. What a filthy little slut.” He didn’t bother taking his cock out slowly. He just unzipped, lined up, and shoved back inside me in one hard thrust. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Blackwood fucked me like he was angry, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades to keep me pinned to the desk. “Every day after your last class, you will come here,” he said between thrusts. “You will lock the door, you will bend over, and you will take whatever I give you. Do you understand?”

Dylan looked worried. "Of course not. This is proof that our escorts are also in league with Alexandra and Scott." "Huh!" "The person who bought the oil for us was Bentley... so there's no doubt it's him." "Huh... Are they waiting for us to have sex?" Dylan grimaced. Archie shrugged. "And besides, this pot is way too big... it has enough oil for several nights..." Archie said, all innocent. Dylan looked at Archie, totally horrified. Archie closed the wardrobe and went back to bed.

She released a ball of fire and Leni was looking at it hopelessly. Then suddenly, someone appeared on the gates. A man wearing a hooded black robe. His face was hidden beneath the hood and only his pale fingers can be seen. He was the one Serra saw in her dream. To Serra's surprise, he ran fast towards Leni . He lifted his hand and black smoke gathered on his palm. He thrusted his palm forward and released a ball of black smoke. The two balls meet. Black against gold, the sun against the moon. The balls fused and exploded into a white smoke.

He soothingly whispered in her ears. “No one can ever touch you but me” He softly said as his other hand slowly made its way under her hanbok and into the folds between her thighs. His forefinger gently caresses her there. He was sending delicious sensations to her. She can’t explain what she is feeling right now, but it's entirely new to her. She stopped moving and was confused at what he was doing to her but it felt so good. He softly circles his forefinger to her moist center while she gasped uncontrollably. He lingered there, teasing her sensitive flesh until every nerve in her body tautened to breaking point. The handsome prince kissed her mouth as she lay there beneath him, still proce

All she wanted was a story, but this was what she got instead. Another sob drifted up her throat when he finally entered her, and pain; mind numbing pain scorched her at the harsh thrust. This might not be rape, but it was blackmail…cruel and heartless BLACKMAIL. |-_-| /-_-\ |-_-|

Auckland’s winter rain fell in sheets, turning the suburban street into a black mirror. Martin Hale’s apartment building three stories of faded brick and rusted balconies looked even smaller under the downpour. Inside unit 3B, the man once called Marcus Blackwood sat zip-tied to a kitchen chair, blood trickling from a split lip. The Rossi enforcers hadn’t bothered with subtlety: duct tape over windows, silenced pistol on the table, a laptop open to a dark-web escrow screen showing a running countdown.

"Bend over." "Here?" We're in a parking lot. Dimly lit, but still visible from the street. Anyone could walk by. Anyone could see. "Here." He pushes me down until my chest is pressed against the warm metal. "I want to watch everyone watch you get fucked." He shoves my skirt up and slams into me from behind. I'm so wet, so open, that he slides in without any resistance. The car rocks with every thrust. A car drives by on the street. I see headlights sweep over us and then slow. They saw. Someone saw me bent over a stranger's hood, getting pounded in a parking lot.

I wondered what he hid behind that stern exterior. Pushing open the door to the back office, I flicked on the small desk lamp. Dust motes danced in the beam, and there, tucked behind a stack of files, was a locked drawer I'd noticed before. My heart pounded as I jimmied it open with a paperclip, curiosity winning over caution. Inside lay a hidden world: coils of soft rope, leather cuffs, and a sleek black vibrator that hummed to life when I twisted its base. My breath caught. These were BDSM toys—real ones, not the fantasies I'd touched myself to in my tiny apartment. Heat flooded my cheeks, but a deeper ache stirred between my legs. My tight pussy clenched at the thought of being controlled