Alarm blasts at eight. Eyes snap open. Bed empty again. Steve’s gone. Always bolts after fuck. No cuddles. No mornings. Just workaholic freedom.
Tuesdays. Fridays. Post-work ritual. He showers first. Clean. Controlled. Two years of safe, vanilla sex. I’m real estate queen. Selling million-euro villas to fat cats. We fit. No fireworks needed. Right?
The Mutation
Clock ticks. Late for 9:30 showing. Foot down. Right first. Good day vibes chase doubts.
Mirror check. Redhead fire. Long locks. Hazel-green eyes. 5’8″, 123 lbs. Toned legs. Curvy hips. 90C tits. My weapons. Nipples harden at thought. Love them sucked. Teased. Licked slow then hard.
Fantasies flood. Mystery man. Chiseled jaw. Ripped, lean muscle. Dark skin. Blue eyes. Hands caress. I pinch nipple. Hand slides down. Wet already. Finger dives in.
Phone rings. Steve. Breathless excuse. Bathroom slip. Can’t confess. Tease him naked. He bails. No Friday. Work report. Click. Rage boils. Fuck his schedule.
Shower blasts fury away. Seduction armor on. Black Brazilian thong. Lace-top stockings. Garter belt. Short skirt. No bra. Red sheer blouse. Nipples poke. Killer heels. Red lips scream fuck me.
Agency stop. Keys grab. Whistles. Stares devour legs, ass, tits. Power surge. I’m the fantasy.
Villa gates. No client. Roar of sports car. Him. Italian god. Mate skin. Deep blue eyes. Familiar danger. My slutty outfit? Regret hits.
Tour starts. Pro pitch. Ten million francs prize. His eyes burn. Stairs up. Skirt rides high. ‘Love stockings. Erotic.’ Heart pounds.
Bathroom. Doors open to park. He presses. Hard cock nests in my back. Breath hot on ear. Hand up thigh. Silk stockings ignite. Mirror traps us. Blouse rips open. Tits free. Fingers tease. Pinch. Pull nipples. Agony bliss. I expose more. He worships. Sucks. Bites.
Spin. Kiss devours. Tongue battles. Hand to pussy. Fingers invade. Thumb circles clit. Soaked. He’s my morning dream made flesh.
Guilt flashes. Steve? Fuck him. But I bolt. Adjust. Apologize. He smirks. Leaves.
Tears. Back to desk. Hide.
The Exploit
Office grind. Steve ghosts. Crave him. But villa haunts. Wet again.
The Exploit
His office. Surprise lunch. Peaked face. Envelope. Photos. Tits out. Kissing him. Hand in panties.
‘You slut.’ Rage. Hurt. Knows the guy. Ex-colleague. Fucked Steve’s deal. Revenge fuck?
Truth spills. Didn’t fuck. Just foreplay. But needed desire. Passion. Your control kills me.
‘Out.’ Door slams. Heart shatters.
Weeks blur. Work drowns pain. Then early home. Bath. Moulin Rouge vibes. Dinner. Film.
Doorbell. Peephole spin. Him. Rougher. Stubble. Faded jeans. Muscle hug.
Kimono barely covers. Eyes rape me. Finger hushes. Kiss ignites. Soft to savage. Neck. Kimono falls. Naked. His cock strains.
I attack. Neck licks. Torso. Belt snaps. No boxers. Cock salutes. I devour. Lick. Suck. Deep throat. His hand grips hair. Groans fuel me.
Bend over couch. He slams in. Teases. In-out. Tits mauled. Fingers to clit. Ride his face. Tongue tornado on pussy.
Cowgirl. Impale. Hands crush tits. Rhythm breaks him. Cum together. Roars.
All night. Every hole. No limits. Power mine. Domination total.
The Ombre
Dawn. He’s there. No bolt.
‘Marvelous, Steve,’ I whisper. Secret burns. Stronger now. City’s pulse syncs mine. Unbreakable.