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We sat in the tub and drank our beers. Hey guys kindly check out my other erotic books, Poppy secret confession. please help give it a chance by reading and giving your honest review and comment about it.

I nodded lightly, and he smiled. Holding my neck and a little of my breath, he hit deep against my uterus. His cock set me on fire and made the walls of my core open for him. Everything became his. The horniness corrupted me. The fetish of being restrained, of having something rough, but controlled, left me with my head spinning and a smile in my mouth. I had never let a man do that to me. I've never had enough confidence or desire. But, fuck, Pablo was another story.

“Okay. So how do I even start?” “Like any other conversation. Start slow. Let it simmer. You don’t go straight for the clit, right? You tease, you build it up. Do the same here. You could start with the classic ‘what are you wearing’ line, but if you want something that really works… tell a story.” “Story?” she echoed. “You mean, like, read erotica?” “No, I mean tell him something from your life. Something hot, or something that could have been hot if it’d gone just a little further. Something real—then spice it up. Let your imagination play with the memory.”

I don’t know how I'm going to make it home before I blow my load, or even worse, before someone notices my hard-on! I decide to make a quick pit stop at the town library and use the combination of their public toilets and the free Wi-Fi to relieve myself. I quickly lock the only cubicle in the men’s bathroom and sit down, I put my earphones in and immediately go to my phone's videos where I store a large amount of p**n. I quickly click play on one of my favourite screaming videos and start to jerk my 8” cock. I’m already ready to blow my load and the screaming and hot ladies aren’t helping. Suddenly I imagine Mrs Sinclar jerking me and it’s all too much as I shoot stream after stream of cum

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.

He seemed to get the idea and sank his fingers as deep as he could get… spreading her labia, stroking her clit with the other hand. “You nerdy slut,” he whispered, his voice low, intoxicating. “Ride my fingers,” he said. “I won’t,” she said, trembling. “I don’t want this.” But as he tried to pull his fingers away, she shamelessly moved her hips to match him, desperate for friction… craving every inch. His hands moved faster now, when he added a third finger she was so wet that it felt right, fingers perfectly angled, teasing her G-spot. “You’re so wet,” he whispered, breathless. “Like a fountain.”

“My after-class project. My desperate little slut who traded her dignity for a letter on a page.” His words were filth, and they poured over her like hot oil, searing her shame and transforming it into fuel. Her climax built with terrifying speed, coiling from the very brutality of his fucking. She was sobbing, pleading, begging for it, for him, for the oblivion he offered. “Please…” “Come for me, Elara,” he commanded, his own control fraying, his thrusts becoming wild, uncoordinated. “Come on your professor’s desk. Show me you accept your terms.”

The thin fabric of his boxer briefs was the only barrier between her naked cheeks and his heavy cock. She pressed harder, grinding in tiny, teasing circles. His dick twitched. Thickened. She felt it swell against her soft flesh. Elena bit her lip to stifle a moan. She reached behind her, fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers. She freed his growing erection, hot and velvety, already leaking precum. With a shaky breath, she lifted the hem of her short nightie higher, bunching it around her waist, fully exposing her dripping pussy and ass.

Sex should be a gift I deliver, not something I surrender to. Apparently, this made me weird, at least according to some chat forum I joined. Like, who wouldn’t want to be in control? I know I did. So when my friend Michela handed me a card that said FREE ME and said they could match my “exquisite taste,” I figured, why not? She’d been glowing lately. Whoever was fucking her clearly knew their job. But me? I didn’t want to be fucked. I wanted to do the fucking.

My AirPods were blasting dark, sensual music as I read one of my dirtiest books. I couldn’t stay quiet. “Fuck…” I moaned loudly, back arching off the bed. “Oh my god, yes…” Two of my fingers slid inside me as I kept rubbing my swollen clit with my other hand. “Mmm… please… fuck me harder,” I whimpered reading out what the female lead said in the book, eyes fluttering shut. My hips were grinding against my hand desperately. “Yes… just like that… I’m such a dirty little slut…”