Mistress Sex Stories Novels & Stories

It is lyk karma’s dealing wth both wife and husband* *She had been parading as the #1 heiress of the country for the past decade, who knew that she was a bitch who grew up at some rundown orphanage at the darkest downtown. No offense to all normal orphans with all their moral compass function* *Can you believe the mistress’ family were working under her because she was the supposed #1 heiress, I wonder what they would do now that the whole stuff has blown up in their face* *I heard the mistress was harassed at work too…poor girl.*

His gaze raked over them, two perfect asses side by side, and his palm came down hard on each soft plump cheek, the sound cracking through the room. Rachel moaned, arching deeper against his hands. He moved behind the whore first, pushing into her with one brutal thrust. She cried out, her knuckles white in the sheets. The maid’s breath hitched. She could feel the bed shake, smell the sex, hear every wet, pounding slap of skin. Then his hand shot out, gripping the maid’s jaw, forcing her to look at him while he took the other woman. “You’re next,” he growled. "Yes. Yes, sir," She moaned, nodding eagerly.

“That’s going to stay in my phone forever. Whenever I’m away, I’ll play it. I’ll jerk my cock to the sound of your pretty cries. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She moaned, pushing forward against his hand. “Dirty little girl.” He pinched her clit, loving the sound that escaped her mouth after. “On your hands and knees, Printsessa. You sound like you’re aching for more.” Charlotte immediately got on her hands and knees, imitating her current position on the screen. Maksim knelt behind her on the floor, lined up his cock with her entrance, and pushed into her in a slow torturous movement. Charlotte wiggled her ass back, wanting more.

The dominant, a tall woman in nothing but heels, smirked, leaning down to lick around the stretched rim before pushing the beads back in, starting the torment over. Not far from them, two women were locked in a heated scissoring session on a velvet chaise lounge. Their legs intertwined, wet folds grinding together in slippery, frantic friction, pussy against pussy, clits bumping and rubbing with delicious pressure. Their juices mixed, creating a slick mess that squelched audibly with every hump. One had her hands on the other's breasts, pinching and twisting nipples until they were red and swollen, while the other fingered her partner's clit in rapid circles, both of them panting and cursing

"It wasn't just... it wasn't just sex. It was like he was trying to break me. He looked at me, Bridge. He lustfully looked at me. Not like a student, but like he wanted to own every breath I took." "Oh my God, he did! He actually did it!" she squealed, her voice muffled as if she’d covered her mouth with her hand. "Tell me everything, Pearl. Don't leave out one bit. Was it raw? Did he mark you? Did he treat you like the top student or did he treat you like a complete slut for him? Talk to me, girl! I’m sitting here in the middle of my dinner and I’m about to scream!" I looked at the locked door, the silence of the house pressing in on me, and finally let the truth out in a shaky breath. "

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.

She was also my son's fiancée, Scarlett Harper. Before I could speak, she raised her voice and shouted toward the store entrance. "Everyone, come take a look! This is what a mistress looks like these days. Completely shameless! "She secretly took photos of the 700,000-dollar dowry my fiancé, Nathaniel Cole, prepared for me, claimed it was for her, and posted them online while pretending to be some socialite! "Why don't you take a look at yourself? You're already so old, and you're still trying to seduce a rich young man. It's disgusting!"

“Absolutely, Master, I am yours. Have you never even fantasized about having a slave before?” “The last woman I was with was my wife; we never played any fantasy games. I have not touched anyone in ten years.” I felt the pang of loss begin to grow in my chest again. “Master, I am so sorry. I never knew you were married. May I make a suggestion that might help you to understand what you have gotten yourself into?” “I would be glad to hear anything you have to say.” She then suggested a couple of websites for me to read. Stories and such to let me know what I might want to try.

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

Not when her biggest problem was a broken nail or a bad batch of designer perfume. Leila exhaled loudly, throwing her arms up. “Okay, fine. You’re stubborn as hell, so I won’t argue anymore.” She paused, eyes gleaming with something mischievous. “But—I have a brilliant idea.” Vlada arched her brow. “Oh no.” “Work for me,” Leila blurted out. “Seriously. I need someone I can trust. My maids—ugh—they keep messing with my stuff. One even stole my necklace last month. I’ve been cleaning my own room ever since.”