Wet Secrets 소설 & 이야기

Each withdrawal left me empty and aching, and each thrust forward filled me so perfectly I saw stars. The washing machine vibrated beneath my palms, adding a low buzz that traveled straight to my clit. His hand slid around to find it anyway—rubbing firm, steady circles while he fucked me from behind. “You love this, don’t you?” he growled against my ear. “Being bent over in your own house, taking your father-in-law’s cock while your husband showers upstairs.” I whimpered, nodding frantically. “Say it.” “I love it,” I gasped. “I love your cock… I love being your dirty little secret…”

The wet sounds emitting from both of them were more than obvious. Aaliyah lets out a whimper before she can stop herself. He bends forward to capture her mouth to silence her. Hudson made sure to home in on the footsteps of the internets, stilling slightly when they stopped beside their aisle, still unaware of what was going on at the corner just a couple steps down. “What did Mr. West tell us to get again?” one of them asks. Oh God, Aaliyah thinks. She could feel her arousal halting at the name of her mentor.

Chapter 1: Watching from the Shadows Zoe's POV What's your dirtiest secret? I don't mean the usual 'I once crushed on my stepdad' or 'I have dirty thoughts about my teacher.' I mean an actual secret. Something so messy, you know you're fucked if it comes out. Well, while you think, let me tell you about mine. I'm Zoe Croft, twenty, single, not a virgin, and my dirty secret is that I masturbate to my stepbrother, Leo Hooke. Not the usual 'he makes my pussy clench and I pleasure myself' shit.

Soft, wet sounds carried across the water. His mouth found my neck, open and hot, kissing a slow path down to the tops of my breasts while his fingers kept working me under the surface...steady, deep strokes that made my hips rock forward against his hand. The water made every movement feel smoother, more secret, even though we were completely visible. “Feel how wet you still are,” he whispered, thumb circling my clit while his fingers fucked me. “Like your body already knows it isn’t finished yet.” I could only moan in answer, head tipping back against the tile as he sucked one nipple into his mouth beneath the waterline, tongue flicking while his hand kept the same relentless rhythm betwee

Wet sounds filled the dark room. The orgasm hit me hard and fast. My whole body shook as muscle spasms rushed through my belly and legs. I squirted heavily, soaking the sheets beneath me. A loud moan came out of my throat and echoed off the walls. I lay there for minutes, breathing heavily as my heart beat wildly for the night to come

Then I pushed two fingers into her without warning. Jenny cried out and her knees almost gave. I curled the fingers up and rubbed that soft spot inside her while my tongue stayed locked on her clit. The wet sounds got filthier. Squelching. Slick. Every thrust of my fingers forced more of her juice out around them, running down my wrist, dripping onto the floor between my knees.

"Look how wet her cunt is for us." I was soaked. My pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing, thick ropes of wetness gushing out of me, running down my ass, dripping onto Korr's chest. The smell of my own arousal flooded the room—musky, sweet, desperate. My clit throbbed, twitching with every heartbeat, the sensitive bud peeking out from between my soaked folds.

My thighs pressed together involuntarily. Jesus Christ, I was wet. Not metaphorically. Actually, physically soaked. My underwear was probably ruined. My pussy was clenching around nothing like a desperate, pathetic thing, and I was in a locked office seven stories above him, staring at a camera feed, and no one had ever needed anything worse than I needed him. He ran his hands over his face, slicking the water back. Stood there breathing hard, chest heaving, water running down every ridge and valley like it was washing away my last shred of self-control.

The soup she had spilled on me, and the pot it came from, were still on the kitchen floor, both reeking. She did not stop to look. She went straight to the bedroom. She pulled the closet open. Everything I owned was gone. What was left were the cheap clothes she had bought, and rows of plastic bottles and containers. She had always hated those clothes. She was afraid the fabric would irritate her skin. Every time she wore them out, she would take them off as soon as she got home and spray them over and over with disinfectant, even though she knew I had washed them by hand.