The madman’s house. That massive library. Sun filters through shelves packed with books. My bac results clutched tight. Mention Très Bien. I burst into the garden, screaming. Nick shows his doctorate. We collide. His body hard against mine. Cock twitching through pants. My tits press firm, nipples rock-hard. Sweat beads on skin. Forbidden. He’s twice my age. Society’s eyes? Fuck them.
Heat surges. I strip. Dress drops. Bra off. Panties slide down. Naked. Perfect curves exposed. Tits high, ass round, pussy already slick. His eyes bulge. Jaw drops. ‘Dress me in pearls,’ I say. He fastens the necklace. Big pearl nestles between my breasts. I lower it to my clit. Cool nacre on hot folds. ‘Fuck me now.’ Heart pounds. Thighs quiver. The line crossed. No turning back.
The Awakening: Bare Skin, Pulsing Heat
He grabs me. Lifts easy. Strong arms. Carries upstairs. Bad ear? Doesn’t matter. Lays me on silk sheets. Strips slow. Cock springs free. Thick. Veined. Massive head. ‘It won’t fit,’ I gasp. He grins. Dives in. Tongue laps my slit. Sucks clit hard. Fingers curl inside, hit G-spot. Rim my ass with wet tip. Overload. Body shakes. First orgasm rips. Juices flood his face. ‘More,’ I beg.
Second wave. He eats me savage. Fingers plunge. Tongue flicks. Ass probed deep. I buck. Scream. Cum again. Pussy clenches empty. He rises. Cock poised. Slides in slow. Stretches me wide. Fills every inch. ‘So tight,’ he groans. I wrap legs. He thrusts deep. Slow grind. Then flips me. Cowgirl. I ride hard. Tits bounce. He kneads them. Pinches nipples. Third climax. Walls milk him.
The Secret: Hidden Ecstasy, Swollen Secret
Doggy now. Ass up. He slams. Balls slap wet. Grips hips. Pounds brutal. ‘Take it, slut,’ he growls. I push back. ‘Harder, fuck my cunt.’ Sweat drips. Bed creaks. He roars. Cums hot ropes inside. I shatter. Fourth orgasm. Collapse. Drenched. But shower? Slippery bodies grind again. Soap suds. Wall fuck. Quick and dirty. Back to bed. Exhausted. Bliss.
Days blur. Lies to parents. ‘Sleepover.’ I stay. Key to gate. Fuck daily. Pussy sore but craving. He coaches studies. I correct texts. Business booms then crashes. Putin fucks Russia trade. Nick paces kitchen. ‘That bastard ruins me!’ I soothe. Hands on chest. ‘Calm, love. Fuck me instead.’ Pull him close. But thrill spikes. ‘I’m pregnant.’ His eyes widen. Shock. Joy? Mine pulses. Forbidden fruit swells. Our secret. Society blind. This life—his cock, my womb, hidden mansion—pure transgression. Wet forever.