The Exclusive Sex Worker Novel Mga Nobela at Kwento

The sight hit me like a punch to the gut. Daniel stood behind his large mahogany desk, pants around his ankles, shirt unbuttoned. His hips slammed forward again and again, driving his thick cock into a woman bent over the desk. She was a petite blonde, skirt hiked up around her waist, panties ripped aside, her breasts spilling out of her blouse as they pressed against the polished wood. Her face was turned toward me, eyes half-closed in ecstasy, mouth open in a constant stream of moans.

“I own this beautiful body. Every hole. Every moan. Every drop of wetness. You have finally accepted the side of yourself that the outside world would never allow you to explore. A community built on sex, pleasure, and endless desire. Here, you are free.” She leaned forward and fed me her full, heavy breast. I latched on without thinking, sucking her nipple hungrily. She moaned loudly, sexual and unrestrained, her voice echoing through the tent. The sound drowned out every last bit of my old reasoning. My straight identity, my old life, Leslie’s wedding — everything faded beneath the wet heat of her breast in my mouth and the filthy, beautiful orgy happening before my eyes. I sucked harder,

He guided himself to my entrance and shoved in with one hard, violent thrust that bottomed out. I let out a loud, raw moan. The raw sex was better than anything I had ever dreamed. He started a brutal, fast pace. Thud. Thud. Thud. Every time he slammed into me, I felt my heart skip a beat. He was a construction worker, and he was using all his strength to mark me. He was hitting my center over and over, his movements heavy and relentless. "Whose pussy is this, Sienna?" he growled, his sweat dripping onto my face.

I was breathing slowly and evenly, completely knocked out after the marathon of that raw rough sex with those long massive cocks I took in the night. And Kai on the other hand just lay down in the fresh bed he made him self after taken off the cum socked one, but he was still unable to find real peace this night. He tossed and turned, the images of the night replaying relentlessly in his mind, the hot raw rough sex together with all my loud moans, and the way my pussy always stretched around the stranger’s longer cock, how I had even begged and screamed while being double-penetrated, how I was praising the stranger’s long cock and still asking for more of it and how I had squeezed my own tit

“Please, Jake.” He grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. Mira’s face pressed into the pillow. He pulled her ass up so she was on her knees, back arched. His hand came down in a firm smack on one cheek. The sting made her moan louder. “Such a bad girl, wanting your best friend’s man,” he growled. But there was no anger in it, only heat. He lined up the head of his cock with her entrance and pushed in hard. Mira cried out as he filled her in one thrust. He was thick, and the stretch burned in the best way. Her pussy gripped him tight.

Chapter 145 Elena’s POV The train picked up speed again, plunging us deeper into the night. My legs still felt unsteady from the orgasm he had forced out of me in front of all these strangers. My pussy throbbed with leftover pulses, panties soaked and clinging uncomfortably. I could smell my own arousal mixed with the stale air of the carriage. Shame burned hot in my chest. What kind of woman let a nameless man finger her to climax surrounded by tired workers and late-night travelers? Yet my body craved more.

It also had a deep V cut that kept her cleavage on display. If I weren’t so good at recognizing people, I’d think I had it wrong, but on a closer look, it really was her. Just the kind of normal occurrence you’d expect. The teacher of my pack’s free academy doubled as a sex worker at night. It wouldn’t bother me if I weren’t coming to meet that same sex worker. Fuck. I balled my fist, approaching as though this meant nothing and I wasn’t on the verge of turning around. We were both grown-ups and this was a… mature intersection. I was just going to tell Francis I couldn’t do it and drive back home with full balls and a new experience of shame.

Twice. Her nails dug into his back through his shirt. The table creaked. The city lights flashed behind them. It was filthy. Fast. Raw. The kind of sex you remember for the rest of your life not because it was romantic—but because it ruined you. He fucked her until her voice broke, until her legs shook, until she came gripping his shoulders and sobbing his name. He held her through it. Groaned into her neck. Then pulled out at the last second and came all over her thigh with a low, wrecked sound.

Clara Vale lived on the 12th floor of an old, rundown building in downtown São Paulo. At 32, she was the undisputed queen of bestselling erotic romances. Her books sold by the thousands: Fuck Me Until Dawn, where the protagonist was destroyed by a mafioso with a 23-centimeter cock; Fireman’s Dick — the irony of fate hitting hard now — and her most recent one, Emergency Orgasm, which had spent three straight weeks at the top of the charts.

I stopped right in front of my building, the words ‘Lush Life’ displayed boldly at the top greeted me before my bouncers at the gate. “Good morning, boss.” Ernest bowed, along with his colleague, but I barely acknowledged them. I was too fucking angry to do it. Marching past all of them, the sound of moans, grunts, and groans greeted me the second I stepped in, along with the sight of naked bodies as people fucked all around me. The place was packed…as usual, sex was good business, especially for the elites, married women whose husbands were too shy to please them, and people who wanted to dabble in something unusual. Voyeurism, BDSM, everything was on the table.