Hayes Grier Imagines Dirty Novels & Stories

"I can see that. Your small cock is as hard as it gets from just thinking about it, thinking about another man claiming Hailey's cunt as his own." My cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. I looked down at my cock; Grace was right, it was throbbing. I reached down to relieve some of the desire that was building there. "Stop that! I don't want to watch you playing with your little thing." "Sorry," I said, quickly returning my arms to my sides. "I bet you have noticed quite a change in Hailey over the past few months haven't you?" said Grace, quickly changing the subject. "Yes."

He was teasing me with his smart-ass mouth and smug attitude. Oh, God, I hate him, but I still like him. I don't know why. There is something inside me telling me I should. "Oh, what's wrong, Gracie? Cat got your tongue because earlier you were talking up a storm and acting all tough, and now, you're so quiet like a little mouse," he said with a smug smile. I know he is being a cocky asshole. But that's Hayes Ford, the famous hot jock, who gets whatever he wants, and if you get in his way, let's say, he will make your life a living hell. I should know. It's been happening to me since I was in middle school.

Grizzell sneered. Haily smiled smugly and crossed her arms. She looked down at Yusria with an expectant expression on her face, eager to see anger and rage on the face of the wolf-less low-life. But her face fell when she saw her friends' taunts failed to elicit a reaction in the other. Morgan and Grizzell immediately picked up on Haily's displeasure. They exchanged glances and nodded in synchrony. Without hesitation, they moved in sync, one kicking Yusria and the other gasping in astonishment.

Stifled moans, the rocky sound of a chair under a sort of pressure that could only be caused by sex, rough sex. Her instinct told her to walk away but then her legs kept moving, closer and closer to the sound until she got to the far end of the wall where there was a window, she looked through and on a table lay a red head, back arched as she matched to the beat of her rider. Isha was frozen for a while as she watched, but not for long because they both stopped abruptly, and two pairs of eyes flashed her way.

“Tell me what you’re feeling right now.” I hesitated for a long time before whispering, “I feel… dirty. And guilty. But I also… I liked it. A lot. That’s what scares me the most.” He pulled back slightly so he could look at my face. His thumb wiped away a tear from my cheek. “There’s nothing dirty about what we did,” he said firmly but kindly. “You were perfect. So wet. So tight. So eager to please me. You called me Daddy so sweetly… it drove me crazy.”

This was the place where dirty daddies told you exactly how to finger your dripping cunt on camera, how to spread your asshole wide and show them how tight and pink it was, how to slap your swollen clit until your legs shook and you were begging like a pathetic slut. They made you do all kinds of nasty shit live, moaning their names, stuffing both your holes with toys, and they tipped heavy when you got even filthier, when you spread wider, when you fucked yourself harder and showed them exactly how messy your cum looked dripping down your thick thighs in long shiny strings. This particular “DADDYHUGECOCK” was the filthiest one yet. Even though I had never seen him, I had spent weeks imagini

I don’t need Dean hearing how desperate his daughter is for his best friend. I suck her nipple and slide my other hand down to tease her other nipple. She arches her back and closes her eyes. My hips rock, my cock tempted to slide into her wetness. But I don’t. Not yet. “Mmm, Daddy.” She moans against my hand. “You like this, baby?” I slide my cock up and down, my pace quickening. “Uh huh, Daddy.” “You think you’re wet enough for the real thing, baby girl?”

“Makes me realize how much I missed.” “Does it make you want to get back in the loop?” she asks carefully as she sets a timer on the microwave. “Actually, it does.” I pause for a second before taking the silverware to the table. I look outside again, seeing Owen lying in the grass as Emma tackles him. Dexter runs around wagging his tail, and three horses graze out in a pasture behind them. Everything is so picture perfect I’m not sure it’s even real. So I do the logical thing and gulp down the rest of my sangria.

I kept my face pressed into the side of his neck, breathing in the thick scent of sex and skin, while the awareness of being watched mixed with the residual pulses of pleasure and the ongoing fullness until the two became inseparable. Elias’s hands drifted lower over the curve of my ass and then between my legs from behind, where he found the slick open heat of my cunt still coated with the thick evidence of his releases, and he stroked through the wet folds, gathering the mess and spreading it over my clit in slow lazy circles that reawakened the sensitivity without rushing. The dual awareness of his tenderness and the filthy state of my body under the gaze of the third presence created a l

Today, what brought him to his unverse with nothing but the smell of dirty laundry, and a mold-growing over due popcorn, was Mr Hart's pounce on his door. "Brat!" Mr Hart wasn't one with a silver tongue, a quality Adrian secretly admired. He had always loved those who bites back when bitten, without holding back a muscle. "Your rent is due, and it has been more than two weeks now!" When he got no response, he could only pour out his morning frustrations at the door, in fury. "I know you are in there, I can smell your wretchedness. I'll be back tomorrow, you better be home with my money."