Braxton Stone Gay Porn Novels & Stories

“Now ruin it.” He withdrew until just the tip remained, then slammed back in. A brutal, punishing thrust. Leila screamed, her nails digging into the leather. He set a relentless, rough pace, each drive a claim, each withdrawal a tease. The slap of his hips against her ass filled the room, a lewd percussion to their choked moans and filthy talk. “You like this?” he grunted, pistoning into her. “You like getting your ass fucked by a gay man?” “I love it!” she shrieked, pushing back against him. “Your cock is so deep! I can feel it in my guts!”

Ken’s hands on my breasts felt like fire and sin all at once. His thick fingers pinched and rolled my stiff nipples through my thin tank top while I tried desperately to keep directing the couple in front of me. The tattooed guy was pounding the curvy brunette doggy-style on the studio platform, her loud moans echoing off the soundproof walls. The wet slapping sounds of his hips meeting her ass filled the room, but all I could focus on was my stepfather standing right behind me, groping me shamelessly while the actors fucked just a few feet away.

Allison asked again. "Yes..the same one" "Oh my gosh! That hot dude? I heard rumors that he's gay from staff" "Gay? I think I heard about it from him too.But I'm not so sure about it. Anyways he was drunk when we did it" Kylie said. "I still find this so hard to believe Kylie" "Again.. I got involved with his mother and we went for a family dinner where I passed out and found out that I'm allergic to shrimps" Kylie said in a rush.

“Ebony? Daddy kinks? Or BDSM?” Grace grinned a little. “Daddy kinks.” I picked a good video and started playing it on the big TV. The sounds of moaning filled the room. On the screen, a young girl was calling a man “Daddy” while he fucked her. I slipped my hand between Grace’s legs. She was already wet. I rubbed her pussy gently first, then pushed two fingers inside her. She moaned loudly and pressed her face into my chest. “That’s it,” I whispered. “Feel Daddy’s fingers.”

Even soft it was obscene—long, thick, the head a blunt weight that swayed as he moved. Water ran down the shaft in rivulets, tracing every ridge. It looked heavy enough to bruise. My mouth went dry. My pussy clenched so hard I felt it in my stomach. I’d seen plenty of naked men. Models. Actors. None of them came close. His head snapped up. Gray eyes locked on mine through the glass. No shock. No shame. Just raw, steady heat. I ran out immediately. The door slammed behind me. I pressed my back to the wall in the hallway, robe gaping open, thighs slick. My nipples were so hard they hurt.

I almost stood up to leave when the door opened. “Alessia Cruz?” My head jerked up. And there he was. Dr. Zayn Steele. The picture online had not done him justice. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with tattoos peeking out from under the cuffs of his rolled-up shirt. His hair was messy in that deliberate way that screamed trouble, and his lips - oh goodness - his lips were full, with a silver piercing glinting on the lower one. I forgot how to breathe for a second.

I lean into Braxton, my voice a honeyed whisper meant for the cameras. "Smile, my dear," I coo, my lips painted with a seductive allure. "We want the world to see just how in love we are." Braxton’s detachment remains intact, his gaze distant, his expression impassive. But I’m not one to be deterred. I place a manicured hand on his cheek and, before he can react, press my lips forcefully against his. The cameras click and flash, capturing the moment with a voracious hunger for scandal. The kiss has left Braxton with little choice but to respond in kind. He kisses me back, a perfunctory gesture that betrays none of the passion I’m hoping to convey.

he coos and they slip out of the room. Once the door shuts, Gray hands me a phone. "Watch the video." Confused, I press play. The screen fills with a man being bent over, moaning as another guy rails into him. Three other men stand around, their hard cocks in their hands. "You like that, huh?" the guy behind the camera taunts. "You like me pounding this tight little ass?" "Oh, fuck. Yes Daddy! I love it!" The voice sounds familiar. Too fucking familiar. No. No, no, no.

Bryan murmured, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm,"I bump into some pretty people in the bar, you can't judge me." "We ain't God so we really ain't anyone to judge," Easton slurred,"But I have smashed like twenty-seven girls. I really got into those habits huh." "Mine is zero, you all should bow to me," Camille muttered,"I am the holiest of you all." "I have had like one casual hookup," Cameron said, hanging his head low in what appeared to be shame,"And it was way back when I was in my teens." "How is that even possible," Bryan murmured,"Because if I had ever just collided into you, I would have totally stopped at nothing to bed you."

I wanted more. But Brayden wasn’t done. He tossed something onto the bed. A vibrator. “Put it in,” he ordered. My stomach turned. “Mr Gatsby, please…” His slap snapped across my cheek. “Sir,” I corrected quickly, tasting blood. “Please, sir…” “Do it.” My fingers shook as I slid the toy between my folds. It slid in too easily; I was still wet from the brutal fuck he’d given me. He put the remote into his pocket, smirking. “Good girl. Now get dressed. We have a meeting.”