Credence Couch Scene Novels & Stories

I patched myself on the wall and slowly stuck out my head to get a peek and confirm that indeed the action I was suspecting was taking place was the cause of all this noise. Much to my horror, I was right. I should have looked away the second I laid eyes on the unholy scene, but I couldn't. Mr Blackwood had a tall brunette bent over the couch and he was plowing into her like an animal from behind. I couldn't get over the rapid thrusts and the way his butt clenched as he jerked his hips. The woman's moans were only getting louder and she was desperately clawing at the couch's body like she was nearing a mind- numbing, toe curling orgasm. I wondered how her slender frame was able to handle suc

My cunt clenched around his fingers, pulsing, gushing and coating his hand such that it dripped onto his pants. At the same moment, amber cried out, her body arching as her partner’s mouth devoured her through her climax. The room seemed to tilt. Kade withdrew his fingers slowly. His hand came up to caress my head, smoothing my hair back from my damp forehead. “Good Covey. Such a good fucking girl.” The women rose and disappeared through the door. The music seemed to fade and I lay against his chest, boneless, breathless and utterly speechless. “So, are we still seeing Luca?” He asked.

I tried to curl inward, to protect what little I could, but the ropes held me spread and vulnerable against the rough wooden post. Cressida’s laughter rang out again, sharp and delighted, as she lounged on that worn couch like a queen watching her favorite play. She crossed her legs, resting her chin in her hand, eyes sparkling with pure malice. “That’s it. Make it hurt. Break something. I want to hear her scream.” A boot connected to my side and I knew for sure that something was cracked. Maybe my ribs. The pain was white-hot, blinding. I screamed as tears mixed with blood rolled down my face.

She didn’t fight—fear had paralyzed her completely, her legs like jelly. The motel room was stifling and reeked of damp rot, as if it hadn’t been cleaned in years. The walls were dull and mold-stained, the bed a mess of wrinkled, spotted sheets, and the air hung heavy with the lingering stench of old cigarettes. Cedric locked the door with two sharp clicks, then pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. He set it on a small tripod—clearly brought from the car—and aimed it straight at the bed. The camera started recording quietly, its tiny red light blinking like a watchful demon’s eye. “Take off your clothes,” Cedric ordered, voice flat and emotionless, cold as a corpse.

with anyone who would listen. "You can't go soft on a capitalist," she said. "As long as we stick together and make a scene, she'll definitely be scared. Trust me. Today, she'll give us what we want." Layla sat beside her, smiling politely and nodding along every now and then. At exactly 9:00 am, I walked into the conference room. Every pair of eyes snapped toward me instantly—some gleeful, some just watching for drama, some openly greedy. I walked to the front, ignored the prepared slides, and slowly scanned the crowd. Then, I said, "First, I'd like to apologize to everyone."

The video kept playing. On screen, a dark figure climbed out of the couch. The lighting was too dim to make out a face, but the silhouette was unmistakably a woman's. She walked straight over to Adam, who was asleep on the couch, and slipped into his arms. They kissed, and then it went further than that. Just before dawn, the woman crept back inside the couch, and the lid closed behind her. The court clerk played several more clips. Every single one showed the same thing. A woman climbing out of that couch every night and sleeping with Adam.

The power never came back that night. By 3 a.m. the apartment had turned into a furnace and we were a wreck: sweat, cum, and pussy juice everywhere. Caleb had passed out on the couch, chest rising slow, that big dick finally soft against his thigh, still glistening with both of us. I let him sleep for one hour. Just one. Then I woke him with my mouth on his balls just to watch his eyes roll back when he realized this wasn’t a dream.

He wanted us to find them. The unlocked door swings inward with a soft click, revealing a scene bathed in the muted light of a desk lamp. Our mate lies sprawled across the desk, her thighs entwined around our brother’s head as he brings her to a shuddering climax. Caleb closes the door just in time as a muffled scream pierces the air, followed by the sharp intake of her breath. Her vibrant green eyes lock onto mine as she climaxes. Fuck.