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Ryder wasn't just using his tongue, he was conducting a symphony of filth against her nerve endings. They were buried deep under the thick, weighted duvet, a private cavern that smelled of sweat, salt, and the heavy, metallic musk of her own relentless arousal. The heat was stifling, the oxygen thin, but Ruth-Ann didn't care. She felt like a goddess atop a throne of sin, her body vibrating with a raw, electric hunger that five hours of climaxing hadn't even begun to sate.

“You know what? Why don’t you bend me over the desk? I want to feel this cock even deeper.” Marcus nodded eagerly and pulled out. Elena slid off the desk, spun around, and shoved her fat, juicy ass toward him. Every little movement made her cheeks jiggle softly, the sight so hypnotic that Marcus gulped hard, his cock twitching visibly. She bent forward over the desk, laying her upper body flat against the wood. Her thick thighs spread wide, ass pushed back invitingly, pussy glistening and ready for him. When nothing happened, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw Marcus just standing there, eyes locked on her fat ass like he was hypnotized.

I was so wet, so soaking wet down there. As my fingers glided all over my pussy, I could hear the erotic noise my pussy lips made as I rubbed them together; as they came in contact, the squelching sounds of my pussy lips sounded so fucking sexy, the feeling was intense, it felt so good, the sensation was too much, it was mind-blowing.

I curled them, hitting that spot I knew she loved, watching her kick and squirm. God, she was perfect. Every reaction was vocal. Every movement was a plea. Eva… Eva was a statue. Eva never reacted like this. Eva made me feel like sex was a chore on a to-do list. Olandria made me feel like a god. She made me feel like a man who was capable of destroying a woman with nothing but a touch. I watched her hungrily, my mouth diving back for her clit while I continued to finger her, adding a third finger to stretch her out.

ROOMMATES WITH BENEFITS PT 3 Saturday morning started with the sound of a drawer sliding open. Harper sat on the edge of her bed and tipped the entire contents onto the sheets. Dildos of different sizes and colors spilled out first, followed by a cordless wand, a pair of adjustable nipple clamps, and a small leather flogger with soft tails. Lila stood in the doorway watching, still in the tank top and shorts she had slept in. “No classes. No shifts,” Harper said. “We use all of it.”

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.

Hated how my thighs trembled and another gush of slickness leaked down my inner thigh. But my body moved anyway—small, hesitant steps across the cool hardwood until I was standing right in front of her, close enough to smell her arousal, sweet and musky and so fucking intoxicating it made my head spin. Elena’s free hand reached out, manicured nails grazing my bare thigh just below the hem of my boy shorts. I jumped at the touch, but she only smiled wider, sliding her palm higher, pushing the fabric aside until her fingertips brushed the soaked cotton covering my pussy.

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Intimate. “Shh.” One finger pressed against my lips. “No more talking unless I tell you to. We wouldn’t want security to hear the prim little library assistant moaning like a whore when they finally check the building.” The crude word sent a shameful thrill straight to my core. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, just from one kiss and the way he was looking at me like he planned to devour me slowly. He stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving mine, and reached for one of the leather-bound books on the nearby table. It was an old edition of The Decameron, Boccaccio’s tales of lust and sin during the plague. One of the restricted volumes he’d borrowed before.

Three dots started to float on the chatbox as he typed. Then it disappeared as he stopped typing. Oooh, that must mean he liked them. I giggled to myself, deciding to get even bolder. I reached out behind me and unhooked my bra. My tits sprang free, heavy and meaty. I made a soft face of ecstasy and took another selfie. I tousled my hair, groped one of my tits, two fingers flicking over the nips. I took another. Then another, with each different pose.