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It felt like his eyes, like that of a hawk, were often fixed on me, waiting for me to make a mistake. “Would you please knock next time?” I asked with my low voice. I didn't mean any harm but I noticed his eyes darken. “Why? Are you hiding something in your room?” he asked ruggedly. He glanced at my room. His gaze stopped at me. I quickly shook my head and closed my craft notebook, where I had been working on a report. "No, not really. I was just startled by your entrance. I'm not used to—" “What’s that?” He approached the closed notebook and seemed suspicious as he opened it again. I avoided looking at his body because I could smell the mixture of sweat and his cologne. The window was open

The lips of her pussy peeked out from between her thighs—pink, swollen, already glistening. Dominic groaned low in his throat—hand dropping to his lap, palm pressing hard against his erection through the jeans. She turned slightly and saw him touching himself. Didn’t say a word. Just kept reaching higher making the dress lift even more. The bottle slipped. It fell—rolling under the low cabinet beside the stove. Isabella bent to retrieve it. Slowly. Deliberately. Her legs spread just enough—ass high, pussy fully exposed. Pink folds parted slightly, clit swollen and peeking out, wetness shining in the sunlight streaming through the window.

One made me ride him reverse, my back to his chest, while two others jerked off onto my bouncing breasts, pearls of white splattering the green velvet. “Milk it, slut,” he ordered, pinching my nipples as I kept grinding down, chasing another peak. Hours blurred into a frenzy, bodies piling on, my voice was hoarse from screams and swallows. Vic came last, flipping me onto my back, legs over his shoulders as he drilled deep, grunting release inside me. The room reeked of sex and evergreen, the fake snow outside melting into slush. Dawn crept in as they dispersed, leaving me sprawled, used and gleaming. Vic dropped another envelope…heavier this time, kissing my forehead.

He lifts me up onto Daddy’s desk. Shoves the Bible aside like it’s in the way. Then kneels—kneels—in front of me like he’s about to pray. But instead… He spreads my legs. And starts eating me like salvation lives between my thighs. --- My head falls back. My fingers tangle in his hair. He groans into me, like my body tastes like worship. “Don’t stop,” I whisper. “Please.” “Oh, now you wanna beg?” he says, slick with lust.

“Bending you over my desk, fucking you until you scream my name. My wife’s daughter. My forbidden little stepdaughter.” The dirty confession made my pussy clench hard. I reached down and palmed his cock through his pants, stroking the massive length. “Then do it. Right here. Fuck your stepdaughter’s tight pussy.” He groaned and yanked my bikini top down, exposing my heavy tits. His mouth descended, sucking one nipple deep while his hand squeezed the other. I moaned, arching into him, my hand working his zipper open. His cock sprang free, huge and veined, the head already slick. I wrapped my fingers around it, stroking slowly as he devoured my breasts.

His cock twitched traitorously in his sweatpants. Later that night, after Damien had gone to shower, Elias couldn’t take it anymore. He lay on his bed, hoodie pushed up to his chest, sweatpants shoved down just enough. His hand wrapped around his hard, leaking cock, stroking slowly at first, then faster. His eyes were closed, breath coming in soft, desperate pants. In his mind, it wasn’t some vague fantasy, it was Damien’s strong hands pinning him down, that deep voice growling filthy things into his ear while…

What I found was a world of explicit, detailed stories about aunts and nephews. Stories of seduction, of secret affairs, of dominant young men and submissive older women. I read one, then another. My face grew hot, my breathing shallow. Without even consciously deciding to, my hand slipped under the waistband of my linen trousers, my fingertips finding my clit, already sensitive from last night. The stories were graphic, filthy, and utterly compelling. They painted pictures of aunts who were initially reluctant but secretly hungry, who were awakened by their nephew's bold desire. They talked about submission, about being called names, about the thrill of the forbidden.

I felt myself getting close, as if I could join those heavenly bodies up in the sky. “I saw the way you looked at my dick at Coverts,” he whispered, not letting up on his assault on my clit, his lips tracing along my jawline. “I was so hard. You had on that yellow lingerie set that glowed against your skin. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you so badly. That young dude wasn’t going to get this pussy.” With that, he moved his attention from my clit, sliding two fingers inside my hot, already-drenched pussy. He worked his fingers until they were fully coated and soaked. “But I knew it wasn’t time. I’m patient. I can wait.”

“Come here, you little beast.” He stepped back, clearing his desk with a sweep of his hand. Papers and pens scattered. “Spread that pretty little pussy open for me.” I climbed onto the desk, laying back like a good slut, legs wide, glistening, and soaked for him. He stared for a beat. Hungry. Unreadable. Then he bent down between my thighs. His tongue licked a slow, deliberate line from the base of my pussy up to my swollen clit, and then he sucked, hard.

Jace was a slutty, little, moaning mess as Toussaint took him to a different height of pleasure. “Yeah? We’re getting there baby,” he muttered in his ears huskily as his grip tightened on Jace’s purple-red cock. Positions flipped as Toussaint took Jace’s place on the couch, spreading his thighs so he could fit Jace between his legs before palming his full length again. He showered Jace with kisses from behind, nipping at every bit of skin and hungrily consumed all of Jace.