Novel & Cerita Christian Sex Story

She screamed when she had the chance to go near me. I acted shocked, then laughed. “Oh yes, I am. If you want to find further details, go ask your boyfriend how his hard cock satisfied this pussy of a whore. That might help you to pleasure him more so he wouldn’t need to look for a new pussy to fill in with his cock.” Then I walked away. Our forbidden sex continued for the rest of the trip. There were times when we’d do it in the bathroom, on the outside, in the darkest area of the island, and more.

"Try not to fall harder, okay?" I didn't answer. Because I already had. ************* Sex with Christian was sex like I'd never known it. Raw. Animalistic. Soul-destroying in the best possible way. It shattered every preconceived notion of who I was and molded me into something darker, more depraved. He called me Angel, baby, one moment, and his whore the next. And I loved it. Even at his coldest, Christian had always treated me with respect sex, but during sex, I was his toy. His to fuck and use in the shower, pressed against the window, bent over the desk-and I craved it as much as he did.

The silence stretches again, but this time it is a charged, dangerous vacuum. “How many times have you had sex with him since the encounter at the club?” she asks slowly, deliberately, the question measured out like poison. I bite down hard against my bottom lip, refusing to meet her gaze, and slowly look down at the floor, utterly defeated. *Oh my God, how do I tell her this?* The truth is sickening. I can’t even count the exact number. It has been a blur of clandestine meetings and desperate surrender. This should be literally not less than four or five times.

My eyes widened, nearly popping out of my head at the sheer size—how would that even fit? Christian's wicked grin widened, his hand stroking the length once, making it twitch. “Like what you see, baby? This cock's gonna stretch that pretty pussy wide open.” I swallowed hard, nodding, my mouth dry with anticipation. “It's... huge,” I whispered, my gaze flicking up to meet his dominant stare. He grabbed a condom from nearby, rolling it down his thick shaft with practiced ease. Then he angled himself between my legs, lifting one over his shoulder and hooking the other over the arm of the sofa, spreading me wide and exposing my slick, pink pussy fully to him.

Instead, we understood more deeply: Privacy security is important; The law is the most reliable protection; Trust and communication are more important than anything in marriage; Real life never needs inappropriate subtext or messy drama. Decency, steadiness, and peace are the greatest happiness. Occasionally, when I see the long-handled grabber by the bed, I remember that afternoon I was stuck under the bed. I originally only wanted to retrieve a small anniversary gift, but in the end, I unexpectedly found the most precious things in marriage: unreserved trust, the courage to face together, and plain stability. No inappropriate implications, no suggestive subtext, no messy drama—only an ordi

"CONTRACT MARRIAGE" Will she give into Christian's demand or her masterstroke will change the dynamics of the trap he set for her? What will happen when Christian and Mishka's entirely different worlds would crash? Will love find its way through the web of lies, deception, and mysteries? Find this book on Goodnovel: My Indian Wife ***

Christian seduced in a raspy voice that demanded absolute obedience, giving a deep and warm wet kiss on Vivienne’s exposed plump shoulder. Hearing the promise of safety from the mature man of the Vance clan, Vivienne finally exhaled in resignation. She closed her round eyes for a moment, letting her plump body turn to face Christian, who was now standing leaning against the back of the marble restroom door. With a fast and accustomed movement, Christian lowered the zipper of his expensive trousers until they slid down, freeing his manhood which had hardened perfectly, demanding release. Vivienne slowly bent her plump knees, dropping her eighty-kilogram body to kneel on the marble floor, righ

Christian finally says, "You don't have sex with your girlfriend?" "No, dickweed, I don't have sex with my girlfriend. I don't have sex at all. Never have." I look up and see them frozen in disbelief. And then Christian snickers. "Don't say a word, asshole," I say pointing in his face. "It's not for lack of opportunity. It's a choice. I made it a long time ago and it takes more self control than ye could find in your pinkie finger." He raises his hands in defense. "I'm not judging, man. That's your thing. I just don't think I have many friends that are virgins. Actually, I think you're the only one."

Christian finally says, "You don't have sex with your girlfriend?" "No, dickweed, I don't have sex with my girlfriend. I don't have sex at all. Never have." I look up and see them frozen in disbelief. And then Christian snickers. "Don't say a word, asshole," I say pointing in his face. "It's not for lack of opportunity. It's a choice. I made it a long time ago and it takes more self control than ye could find in your pinkie finger." He raises his hands in defense. "I'm not judging, man. That's your thing. I just don't think I have many friends that are virgins. Actually, I think you're the only one."

Shania felt like killing herself. It was clear she was lured to Christian's room by Christian. How was she to explain the fact that she let him get to the extent of having sex with him? “S-stop it now,” Shania whispered and tried to keep Christian off him, but the man was still kissing her and mumbling curses she had never heard before. He looked sexually frustrated “She'll go away if I don't answer,” he mumbled and attempted to enter her, but Shania blocked him