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She kept stroking me through it until the aftershocks faded and I had to gently push her hand away, oversensitive. I rolled toward her and pushed her onto her back. Her legs fell open easily. I kissed down her throat, across her breasts, lingering to suck each nipple until she squirmed. Lower still, over the soft plane of her stomach. The scent of her arousal reached me before I even parted her folds with my fingers. She was slick and swollen. I settled between her thighs and licked a long stripe from her entrance up to her clit. The taste was sharp and clean. Her hips jerked and she made a low sound that went straight through me.

My fingers slid down her clit to her pussy lips and immediately got drenched. I felt her arousal between them, and I smiled like a predator catching sight of his prey. I rubbed them gently against her folds and then raised them to her face. “Smell yourself, doll.” I spread her juices on the skin under her nose. “Can you smell the scent of desperation? Cause it’s reeking from you. ”

Well there was only two weeks left to enjoy her and I was doing that as much as I could. Not that I didn't actually enjoy the class itself as I had indeed been writing for the last couple of years. The only problem was what I was writing was dirty stories, or as the web sites called it; erotica. I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews.

Antonio’s kiss on her neck lingered, and the hands he wrapped around her waist seemed to be there even without his presence. “What am I suddenly…feeling this way….”. She opened her eyes and exhaled hotly. She could feel the wetness overflowing and her clits drumming and kicking for a touch. “Not now, this…this…is bad…should I?” She sat up and looked down. “I have to keep myself busy and my mind away from any erotic thoughts”. She walked to her small bookshelf and found a novel by a talented writer, CAROLUCHY. Unfortunately, it was an erotica novel. Doris gave it to her as a birthday gift years ago, and she never opened it, the deceit there is the title didn’t hint on the nature of the novel.

She tempted him even more. She approached the pole and glued her throbbing jewel between her thighs. She didn't know, but it seemed like that part was starting to get wet while she was doing what she was doing. She held on to the pole and rubbed herself, especially the lower body on the cold pole. It's like she's having sex there. The man scooped up all the contents of the glass and placed it on the table next to him. One of his fingers was already on his lip and he was holding it while staring at what she was doing. She suddenly turned around and rubbed her legs up to both thighs.

I removed my hand and she let out a gasp . I let go off her nipple and started to suck on my fingers which were dripping with her juices while she looked at me . I took my middle finger to her lips and she opened up immediately. The sight of her sucking and licking her juices from my finger was turning me on even more. I allowed her finish before taking off the shorts I had on quickly . My dick was hard as a rock and fully erect . Clara looked at it,she looked amazed by the sight of it. I got up and walked to the front of the bed signalling for her to climb .

“You want me to...” He nodded. “Suck your nipple. Suck it as if I were there.” I lifted one breast, bending down slightly, and allowing my tongue to circle my nipple. Within seconds, it was hard against my tongue. I sucked, flicking my tongue across both my nipples and around my areolas. An electric sensation coursed through my body as I slipped my hand between my thighs, stroking my already-sensitive clit. “Tell me what you’re doing,” he asked between ragged breaths as he stroked his dick, now visible, its head shiny and coated with a generous amount of precum. “Tell me.”

Damien began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, his body pressing against mine with each thrust. "Damien," I whispered, my voice breathy and needy. "You feel so good. So fucking good." He captured my lips in another kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as his body explored mine. I could feel the pressure building, my body coiling tight with anticipation. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. Suddenly, I felt it...the rush of sensation, the release of pressure. I cried out, my body convulsing as I squirted, the wetness soaking the sofa beneath us.

But it’s her face that guts you—angelic, with wide green eyes and faint freckles that you want to trace with your tongue, her smile a wicked promise of innocence and sin. Orientation’s a slog, some old hag droning on while your mind’s elsewhere, craving something raw. Back in your apartment, you’re restless, cock half-hard and aching for release. The city’s left you pent-up, unsatisfied. You grab your laptop, diving into OnlyFans like it’s a dark alley you can’t resist. Pornstars are old news—too polished, too fake. You want real, messy, human. Amateurs with trembling hands and secrets in their eyes. That’s what gets you going.

The whole day had been hectic. I took out a bottle of wine and poured myself some. I dropped onto the cushions, remote in hand, and flicked on the TV. Mindless noise to fill the silence. I scrolled through channels, news, reruns, some late night talk shows until I landed on a movie. One of those erotic thrillers, the kind with dim lighting and heavy breathing. I almost changed it, but the scene caught me. A woman alone in a lavish room, silk robe slipping off her shoulder, her hand trailing down her body as soft music swelled.