Articles by Jane

Surrendering Control

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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the quaint cottage, I found myself lying in Michael’s arms, our bodies still humming with the aftermath of our passionate reunion. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the lingering sweetness of our love. Michael’s fingers traced lazy patterns on my bare back, his touch both tender and possessive. I felt safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by him.

“Jane,” he murmured, his voice raspy and deep, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. Something I’ve kept buried for years.”

I propped myself up on one elbow, my blue eyes locking with his. “What is it, Michael? You know you can tell me anything.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away before meeting mine again. “It’s… it’s a fantasy. Something I’ve always wanted to try but never had the courage to ask for.”

My curiosity piqued. Michael had always been the gentle, loving partner, but there was a raw intensity in his eyes now that I’d never seen before. “Tell me,” I urged, my voice soft but firm.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath me. “I’ve always wanted to surrender control. To have you take charge, completely. To be at your mercy.”

My heart skipped a beat. Michael, the man who had always been my protector, my rock, wanted me to dominate him? The idea sent a thrill of excitement through me. I’d always been the playful, fun-loving partner, but the thought of stepping into a commanding role ignited a fire in my core.

“Are you sure, Michael?” I asked, my voice laced with a hint of challenge. “Once I take control, there’s no going back.”

He nodded, his eyes burning with desire. “I’m sure. I trust you, Jane. I want you to own me.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across my lips. “Then get on your knees,” I commanded, my tone sharp and authoritative.

Michael didn’t hesitate. He slid off the bed, his muscular frame kneeling before me, his head bowed in submission. My heart raced as I sat up, my perky breasts jutting forward, my shaved pussy throbbing with anticipation. I felt powerful, untouchable, like a goddess commanding her worshipper.

“Look at me,” I ordered, my voice dripping with dominance.

He raised his gaze, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of desire and reverence. I reached out, gripping his chin firmly, tilting his head up to meet my stare. “You’re mine now, Michael. Completely and utterly mine. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Jane,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

I leaned forward, my lips brushing against his ear. “Say it again. Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m yours, Jane,” he repeated, his voice stronger, more resolute. “Completely and utterly yours.”

A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine. I released his chin and stood up, my naked body commanding his attention. “Strip the bed,” I instructed, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Michael moved swiftly, pulling the sheets and blankets off the mattress, leaving it bare and inviting. I watched him work, my eyes drinking in the sight of his broad shoulders and tight ass. When he finished, I gestured to the bed. “Lie down. On your back.”

He obeyed without hesitation, his body stretched out before me like a sacrifice. I climbed onto the bed, straddling his chest, my knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. His eyes were fixed on me, hungry and eager.

“You’re going to worship me, Michael,” I declared, my voice firm. “And you’re going to do it exactly how I tell you.”

“Yes, Jane,” he breathed, his hands resting at his sides, waiting for my command.

I reached down, gripping his wrists, and pinned them above his head. “Don’t move,” I warned, my voice sharp. “Not unless I tell you to.”

He nodded, his body rigid with anticipation. I leaned forward, my breasts hovering just above his face, my nipples hardening at the proximity. “Start with my tits,” I ordered. “Worship them like they’re the most precious things in the world.”

Michael’s hands twitched, but he kept them still, his gaze locked on my chest. I reached down, guiding his head up, pressing my left breast into his mouth. He opened wide, his lips closing around my nipple, his tongue swirling and suckling with a hunger that made me moan.

“That’s it,” I purred, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Suck it harder. Make me feel how much you want me.”

He obeyed, his mouth working feverishly, his teeth grazing my sensitive flesh. I arched my back, my other breast jutting forward, begging for attention. “Switch,” I commanded, guiding his head to my right breast.

He lavished the same attention on it, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue teasing and tormenting me. I felt my pussy grow wetter, my clit throbbing with need. “Enough,” I said after a moment, pulling away. “Now, kiss your way down. Slowly.”

Michael’s lips trailed down my chest, pausing to nip at my collarbone, my stomach, his tongue flicking over my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I watched him, my breath hitching as he approached the prize he’d been waiting for.

“Stop,” I ordered abruptly, halting his progress just above my shaved pussy. He froze, his breath ghosting over my sensitive flesh, making me squirm. “Beg me, Michael. Beg me to let you taste me.”

His eyes met mine, pleading and desperate. “Please, Jane. Let me taste you. Let me worship your pussy.”

I smirked, my dominance swelling within me. “Say it like you mean it. Say it like I’m the only thing you’ve ever wanted.”

“Please, Jane,” he repeated, his voice thick with need. “Let me worship your pussy. Let me make you cum with my mouth. You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”

“Good boy,” I praised, my voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now, you may taste me.”

Michael’s head dipped down, his lips pressing against my throbbing clit, his tongue flicking over it with a skill that made me gasp. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair, guiding his mouth as he lapped at me like a starving man.

“Fuck, Michael,” I groaned, my hips bucking against his face. “Eat my pussy like it’s your last meal.”

He devoured me, his tongue plunging deep into my core, his lips sucking and kissing, his fingers teasing my asshole. I was drowning in pleasure, my juices flowing freely, soaking his face, his beard glistening with my arousal.

“I’m close,” I warned, my voice trembling. “Make me cum, Michael. Make me scream your name.”

He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, his lips sucking harder, his fingers slipping inside my tight asshole, stretching me, filling me. I cried out, my body arching off the bed, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave, my pussy clenching and squirting, drenching his face with my cum.

“Fuck, yes!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the cottage. “That’s it, Michael! Drink it all! Drink my cum like a good boy!”

He lapped at me greedily, his mouth devouring every drop, his fingers still probing my asshole, milking my orgasm for every last drop of pleasure. I collapsed onto the bed, my body trembling, my breath ragged, my heart pounding in my chest.

Michael crawled up beside me, his face glistening with my juices, his eyes filled with adoration. “Did I please you, Jane?” he asked, his voice soft and reverent.

I smirked, reaching out to wipe a streak of my cum from his cheek. “You did very well, Michael. Very well indeed.”

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to my lips. “Thank you, Jane. For giving me what I’ve always wanted.”

I pulled him closer, my arms wrapping around him, my legs tangling with his. “You’re welcome, Michael. But we’re not done yet.”

His eyes widened, a spark of anticipation igniting within them. “What do you mean?”

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear, my voice low and seductive. “Now it’s my turn to take what I want. And I want your cock.”

Michael’s breath hitched, his body tensing with desire. I rolled him onto his back, my hands tracing down his chest, his abs, his hips, until I reached his throbbing erection. It stood proud and hard, veins pulsing, pre-cum glistening at the tip.

“Such a beautiful cock,” I murmured, my fingers wrapping around his shaft, squeezing gently. “It’s going to feel so good inside me.”

I leaned down, my lips brushing against the head of his dick, my tongue flicking over the sensitive tip. Michael groaned, his hands reaching for me, but I slapped them away. “Hands to yourself,” I warned, my voice firm. “This is my show.”

He nodded, his body trembling with anticipation. I took him into my mouth, my lips closing around his girth, my tongue swirling around the head, my hands gripping his base. I sucked him deep, my throat closing around his cock, my cheeks hollowing as I bobbed my head up and down.

“Fuck, Jane,” Michael moaned, his hips bucking against my mouth. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

I hummed my agreement, the vibrations sending shivers through his cock. I sucked him harder, faster, my tongue flicking over the sensitive underside, my lips tight around his shaft. I wanted to taste him, to feel him throbbing in my mouth, to make him beg for release.

“I’m close,” Michael warned, his voice strained. “I’m going to cum, Jane.”

I pulled off his cock, my lips wet and shiny, my eyes locked on his. “Not yet,” I teased, my voice dripping with dominance. “I’m not done with you.”

I climbed onto him, my pussy hovering above his cock, my hands gripping his hips. “Guide me,” I commanded, my voice sharp.

Michael reached up, his hands grasping his shaft, positioning the head at my entrance. I lowered myself slowly, his cock sliding into me inch by inch, stretching me, filling me, making me moan with pleasure.

“Fuck, Michael,” I groaned, my eyes rolling back as he seated himself deep within me. “You feel so good.”

I began to ride him, my hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm, my breasts bouncing with each thrust. Michael’s hands gripped my waist, his thumbs brushing over my clit, his eyes locked on mine.

“Harder,” I demanded, my voice breathless. “Fuck me harder, Michael. Make me feel your cock deep inside me.”

He obeyed, his hips thrusting up to meet mine, his cock pounding into my pussy, his balls slapping against my ass. I cried out, my head thrown back, my hair cascading down my back, my body glistening with sweat.

“That’s it,” I moaned, my voice hoarse. “Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me like I’m the only thing you’ve ever wanted.”

Michael’s thrusts grew more urgent, more desperate, his cock reaming my pussy, his fingers digging into my hips. I felt my orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in my core, my clit throbbing with need.

“I’m close,” I warned, my voice trembling. “Cum with me, Michael. Cum inside me.”

He nodded, his eyes wild with desire. “Together, Jane. Let’s cum together.”

I rode him harder, faster, my pussy clenching around his cock, my juices flowing freely, soaking us both. Michael’s thrusts matched mine, his cock pounding into me, his balls tightening, his cum boiling in his veins.

The Fertile Fantasy

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I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, fluffing my short blonde hair and checking my lipstick. At 37, I still turned heads, and tonight I wanted to look especially irresistible. Robert was coming over, and I knew exactly what he craved. The thought of his impregnation fetish made me smirk. It was a kink I’d never encountered before, but there was something thrilling about indulging his fantasy of filling my womb with his fertile seed. Even though I was on birth control, the role-play added a layer of excitement to our encounters. I adjusted my tight black dress, the fabric hugging my curves like a second skin, and headed back to the living room.

The apartment was dimly lit, candles flickering on the coffee table, casting soft shadows on the walls. Jazz music played quietly in the background, setting the mood. Robert arrived promptly at 8, his tall frame filling the doorway as he stepped inside. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his deep blue eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that made my pulse quicken.

“You look stunning,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room in long strides, his hands cupping my face as he leaned in for a kiss. His lips were firm, his tongue teasing mine in a way that made my knees weak. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my body against his, feeling the hardness of his cock through his trousers.

“Miss me?” he whispered against my lips, his breath warm and minty.

“Always,” I replied, my voice breathy. I stepped back slightly, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh? And what exactly have you been thinking about?”

I bit my lip, playing along. “You know… your fertile seed. How it feels when you fill me up, imagining your cum swimming deep inside me.”

His eyes darkened, his grip on my hand tightening. “You’re a tease, Jane. You know that, right?”

I laughed, a light, flirty sound. “Maybe. But I’m your tease.”

He pulled me onto his lap, his hands roaming over my body, his fingers tracing the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growled, his lips brushing against my ear. “My fertile little womb, ready to be filled with my seed.”

I shivered at his words, my core throbbing with anticipation. “Yours,” I whispered, tilting my head back to give him better access to my neck. His lips trailed kisses along my jawline, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice firm. I obeyed, rising to my feet as he slid off the couch, his eyes never leaving mine. He stepped closer, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my dress up until it bunched around my waist. I wasn’t wearing any panties, and his fingers brushed against my shaved pussy, already damp with arousal.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, his thumb circling my clit. “You want my cock, don’t you? Want me to breed you, fill you up until you’re overflowing with my cum?”

I moaned, my head falling back as his touch sent waves of pleasure through me. “Yes,” I gasped. “Please, Robert. I need you.”

He smirked, his hands gripping my hips as he lifted me onto the couch, positioning me so I was lying back, my legs spread wide. He knelt between them, his eyes devouring the sight of my exposed body. “Such a pretty cunt,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “So pink, so ready for my dick.”

He leaned in, his lips pressing against my inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path upward until he reached my core. I groaned, my hands tangling in his hair as he lapped at my pussy, his tongue flicking over my clit, delving into my wetness. “Fuck, Robert,” I moaned, my hips bucking against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

He chuckled, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through me. “I won’t,” he promised, his fingers sliding into me, stretching me open as he continued to feast on my cunt. I was close, so close, my body tense with anticipation. “Cum for me, Jane,” he urged, his thumb pressing firmly against my clit. “Let me taste your sweet pussy as you come apart for me.”

I cried out, my body arching off the couch as my orgasm ripped through me. My juices flooded his mouth, and he drank them down greedily, his tongue never stopping its relentless rhythm. “Fuck, that’s it,” I panted, my body trembling as the waves of pleasure subsided.

He sat back on his heels, a satisfied smile on his face. “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he said, his eyes gleaming with admiration. He stood, unbuckling his belt, his trousers falling to the floor as he kicked them aside. His cock was thick and hard, veins pulsing along its length, the head glistening with pre-cum.

I licked my lips, unable to take my eyes off him. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for,” I murmured, reaching out to stroke his shaft. He hissed at my touch, his hands gripping my wrists.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice rough. “I want to fuck you first. Breed you like the fertile little slut you are.”

My heart raced at his words, my body thrumming with anticipation. He positioned himself between my legs again, his hands gripping my hips as he lined his cock up with my entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Always,” I breathed, spreading my legs wider, arching my back to give him better access.

He thrust into me in one smooth motion, his cock filling me completely, stretching me deliciously. I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. “So tight around my cock. Feels like your pussy was made for me.”

“It was,” I whispered, my lips brushing against his. “Made to be filled with your cum.”

He growled, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. The couch creaked beneath us, the candles flickering with each movement. Sweat glistened on our skin, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as the tension built. “You’re so fucking wet,” he panted, his hands gripping my ass, lifting me to meet his thrusts. “So ready to be bred.”

“Yes,” I cried, my body on the brink again. “Fill me up, Robert. Give me your fertile seed.”

He slammed into me one last time, his cock pulsing as he came, his cum shooting deep into my womb. “Fuck, Jane,” he groaned, his body trembling as he emptied himself inside me. “I’m breeding you, baby. Filling you up with my cum.”

I screamed, my own orgasm crashing over me, my pussy clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop. Our cries echoed in the room, the only sound the heavy panting as we rode out the waves of pleasure.

Finally, he collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the couch, his cock still buried inside me. I wrapped my arms around him, my fingers tracing patterns on his back as we caught our breath.

“That was… incredible,” I murmured, my voice hoarse.

He lifted his head, his lips brushing against mine. “You always are,” he said, a soft smile on his face. He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking from my pussy, dripping onto the couch. I felt a twinge of guilt, remembering my birth control, but the fantasy was too intoxicating to resist.

He helped me sit up, his hands gentle as he wiped the cum from my thighs with a tissue. “You’re amazing, Jane,” he said, his eyes filled with admiration. “The way you play along, the way you let me indulge my fantasies… it means everything to me.”

I smiled, leaning into him, my head resting on his shoulder. “It’s fun,” I admitted. “And it’s hot as hell. Besides, who doesn’t love a man who knows exactly what he wants?”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, and pulled me closer, his lips pressing against my forehead. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

I snuggled into his embrace, content and sated. The impregnation fantasy might not have been my idea, but with Robert, it felt right. His desire to fill my womb with his seed was raw, primal, and it ignited a fire in me that I couldn’t deny. As we sat there, the candles flickering, the jazz music playing softly, I knew this was just the beginning. Robert’s fetish had opened a door to a world of pleasure, and I was more than willing to explore it with him. Every thrust, every whispered word, every drop of cum was a step deeper into a fantasy that felt dangerously real. And I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us next.

St. Patrick’s Day Encounter

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I stepped into the pub, the warm, golden light spilling out onto the cobblestone street, inviting me in like a long-lost friend. It was St. Patrick’s Day, and the city was alive with celebration. Green banners hung from lampposts, and the air smelled faintly of beer and laughter. I’d come alone, something I rarely did, but the holiday had a way of making me feel bold. My short blonde hair was styled in loose waves, and I wore a form-fitting green dress that hugged my curves just right. My blue eyes sparkled with anticipation as I scanned the crowded room, taking in the sea of green shirts, hats, and even a few leprechaun costumes.

The pub was packed, the kind of place where the wooden floors creaked under the weight of dancing feet and the air was thick with the scent of corned beef and cabbage. I squeezed through the crowd, my hips brushing against strangers, until I reached the bar. The bartender, a burly man with a red beard, grinned at me. “What’ll it be, love?” he asked in a thick Irish accent.

“Green beer,” I replied with a smile. “It’s St. Patrick’s Day, after all.”

He poured me a pint, the beer a vibrant emerald color, and slid it across the bar. I took a sip, the taste both familiar and festive, and turned to survey the room. That’s when I saw him.

He was leaning against the far wall, his dark hair slightly tousled, his eyes a deep, piercing green. He wore a simple white button-down shirt and jeans, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made him stand out. His name was Sean, though I didn’t know that yet. He was laughing with a group of friends, his voice rich and warm, and I found myself drawn to him like a magnet.

I took another sip of my beer, trying to play it cool, but curiosity got the better of me. I made my way through the crowd, my heart fluttering with nerves and excitement. When I was close enough, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, his eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, the noise of the pub faded away.

“Hi,” I said, my voice steady despite the sudden rush of adrenaline. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.”

He smiled, a slow, easy grin that made my knees weak. “Well, hello there. I’m Sean. And you are?”

“Jane,” I replied, extending my hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm. “Nice to meet you, Sean.”

We chatted easily, the conversation flowing as naturally as the river Liffey outside. He was charming, funny, and had a way of making me feel like the only person in the room. We talked about everything—our jobs, our favorite Irish pubs, even our mutual love for corned beef and cabbage. The bartender brought us another round of green beer, and we clinked glasses, the liquid sloshing over the sides as we laughed.

“This place really knows how to celebrate, doesn’t it?” Sean remarked, his eyes scanning the room.

“It’s my first time here,” I admitted. “But I’m already in love with it.”

“You should come here more often,” he said, his gaze locking onto mine. “I’d love to see you again.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I’d like that,” I said, my voice soft but sincere.

As the night wore on, the pub grew even more lively. A band started playing traditional Irish tunes, and people began to dance. Sean took my hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me, and pulled me onto the dance floor. We moved together effortlessly, our bodies swaying in time to the music. His hand rested on the small of my back, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that made me shiver.

“You’re a great dancer,” he said, his breath warm against my ear.

“So are you,” I replied, my voice barely audible over the music.

When the band took a break, we found ourselves back at the bar, our drinks long forgotten. The pub was closing soon, and I felt a twinge of disappointment. I didn’t want the night to end.

“Hey,” Sean said, his voice low and intimate. “Would you like to continue this somewhere else? My place is just a few blocks away.”

My heart raced. I knew where this was heading, and I wanted it—wanted him—more than I could admit. But something about the idea of going to his place felt too predictable. I wanted to take control, to set the tone for what was to come.

“Actually,” I said, my voice steady but laced with invitation, “why don’t you come back to mine?”

His eyes widened, just a fraction, and a slow smile spread across his face. “I’d like that very much.”

We left the pub, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the crowded room. The streets were quieter now, the revelry of the evening winding down. We walked side by side, our steps in sync, the silence between us comfortable and charged.

My apartment was just a short walk away, a cozy space filled with books and candles and the faint scent of lavender. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, Sean following closely behind. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner, casting soft shadows on the walls.

“Nice place,” Sean said, his eyes scanning the room.

“Thanks,” I replied, turning to face him. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between us, his hands cupping my face as he pulled me into a kiss. It was hungry, desperate, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. His lips were firm yet tender, his tongue teasing mine in a way that made my knees buckle. I moaned softly, my hands tangling in his hair, holding him close.

We stumbled backward, our kisses growing more frantic, more urgent. His hands slid down my body, his fingers tracing the curve of my hips before slipping under the hem of my dress. I gasped as his touch sent shivers down my spine, my body aching for more.

“Take this off,” he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with desire.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I stepped back, my fingers trembling as I pulled my dress over my head, letting it fall to the floor. I stood before him in nothing but my lace bra and matching panties, my perky breasts straining against the fabric, my shaved pussy on full display.

Sean’s eyes darkened with desire, his gaze raking over my body like a hungry predator. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he growled, his voice thick with lust.

I smirked, feeling bold and confident. “Why don’t you show me just how much you like what you see?”

He didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my thighs as he pressed his face into my crotch. I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair as he inhaled deeply, his nose brushing against my damp panties.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, his voice muffled against the fabric. “So fucking good.”

I moaned, my head falling back as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly pulled them down. My pussy was on full display now, my lips glistening with anticipation. Sean’s eyes locked onto me, his gaze intense and hungry.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he said, his voice low and rough. “To taste you, to feel you come all over my face.”

His words sent a rush of heat through me, my body trembling with anticipation. I spread my legs slightly, giving him better access, and he wasted no time. His tongue was hot and wet as it traced the length of my slit, his lips pressing kisses against my sensitive flesh. I moaned, my hands gripping his hair tighter, my hips bucking slightly as he teased me with his mouth.

“Fuck, Sean,” I gasped, my voice shaky. “Don’t stop.”

He chuckled, the vibration sending pleasurable sensations through my core. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

His tongue delved deeper, his lips sucking gently on my clit as he explored every inch of me. I was drowning in sensation, my body on fire, my moans growing louder with each passing moment. He was relentless, his mouth devouring me, his hands gripping my hips to hold me still as I squirmed and writhed beneath his touch.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Ride my face, baby. Let me taste you.”

I did as he asked, lowering myself onto his mouth, my pussy hovering just inches above his eager lips. He wasted no time, his tongue thrusting into me, his lips wrapping around my clit as he sucked and licked with abandon. I moaned, my body trembling, my juices flowing freely as he worshiped me with his mouth.

“Oh fuck, Sean,” I cried, my voice breaking. “I’m close.”

“Come for me,” he growled, his hands gripping my ass as he held me in place. “Drench my face with your sweet pussy.”

His words pushed me over the edge. My body tensed, my muscles tightening as pleasure exploded through me. I screamed his name, my orgasm rippling through me in waves, my juices flooding his mouth and dripping down his chin. He drank me in greedily, his tongue lapping at my sensitive flesh, milking every last drop from me.

When I finally came down from my high, I collapsed onto the floor, my body limp and sated. Sean followed, his face glistening with my juices, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Fuck,” I breathed, my voice shaky. “That was… incredible.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You tasted even better than I imagined.”

I smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

His eyes darkened with anticipation. “Oh yeah? And what do you have in mind?”

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “You’ll see.”

The night was far from over, and I intended to make the most of it. Sean had worshipped my body with his mouth, but now it was my turn to return the favor—and then some. The chemistry between us was electric, and I knew this was just the beginning of a night that would be etched into my memory forever.

A Side of Cream Pie

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I walked into the dimly lit bar, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filling the air. The scent of spilled beer and stale cigarettes lingered, but I barely noticed. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar faces and the occasional stranger. It was a Friday night, and I was in the mood for something—or someone—to take the edge off a long week. My short blonde hair framed my face, and my blue eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and mischief. At 37, I knew I still turned heads, and tonight, I was dressed to remind myself of that fact. A tight black dress hugged my curves, showcasing my perky breasts and great figure, while my shaved pussy felt deliciously bare beneath the fabric.

I slid onto a barstool, ordering a gin and tonic from the bartender. As I waited, my gaze drifted across the room, landing on a man sitting alone at a corner table. He was maybe a few years older than me, with dark hair, a strong jawline, and eyes that seemed to see right through me. There was something about him—an intensity, a raw hunger—that made my pulse quicken. He caught me looking and raised his glass in a silent toast. I smiled, feeling a flutter of anticipation in my chest.

After finishing my drink, I sauntered over to his table, my heels clicking against the wooden floor. “Mind if I join you?” I asked, my voice light and playful.

He gestured to the empty chair. “Please do.” His voice was deep, with a hint of a rasp that sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m Daniel.”

“Jane,” I replied, sitting down. “So, Daniel, what brings you here tonight?”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an unnerving directness. “I could ask you the same thing. But if I had to guess, you’re looking for something… unconventional.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Unconventional, huh? And what makes you say that?”

He smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made my heart race. “Let’s just say I have a talent for reading people. And you, Jane, strike me as someone who’s not afraid to explore her desires.”

I laughed, a soft, breathy sound. “Maybe. But what about you? What are your desires, Daniel?”

His gaze intensified, and for a moment, I felt like he was peeling back the layers of my soul. “I have a particular fetish,” he said, his voice low and husky. “One that most women find… off-putting.”

My curiosity piqued. “Try me.”

He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine. “I love to lick my own cum out of a woman’s pussy after I’ve fucked her. There’s something about tasting myself inside her, about savoring that cream pie, that drives me wild.”

My breath caught in my throat. It was raw, unfiltered, and undeniably filthy. But instead of feeling repulsed, I felt a heat coil low in my belly. “That’s… quite the fetish,” I managed to say, my voice steady despite the sudden rush of arousal.

He shrugged, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his face. “I know it’s not for everyone. But I’ve always been honest about what turns me on. And I can’t help but wonder if it might turn you on too.”

I licked my lips, my mind racing. It was dirty, taboo, and utterly decadent. But there was something about his candor, about the way he owned his desire, that made me want to indulge him. “I’ve never done anything like that before,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But… I’m willing to try.”

His eyes lit up, and he reached across the table to take my hand. “You won’t regret it, Jane. I promise.”

We left the bar shortly after, the night air cool against my skin. Daniel’s hand was warm and firm around mine as he led me to his place, a sleek apartment just a few blocks away. The tension between us was palpable, electric, as if every step brought us closer to something inevitable.

Inside, the apartment was dimly lit, with soft jazz playing in the background. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and leather, a heady combination that made my senses tingle. Daniel turned to face me, his eyes burning with desire. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice thick with want.

I nodded, stepping closer to him. “I’m sure.”

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “You’re beautiful, Jane. And I’m going to make you feel incredible.”

His lips crashed down on mine, hungry and demanding. I melted into him, my hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair. His kiss was fierce, his tongue probing deep into my mouth, tasting me, claiming me. I moaned, my body already on fire, my pussy aching with anticipation.

He broke the kiss, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. “Take off your dress,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “I want to see you.”

I stepped back, my fingers trembling as I pulled the dress over my head. It pooled at my feet, leaving me standing in nothing but my heels and a lacy black bra and panties. Daniel’s gaze devoured me, his eyes dark with lust. “Fucking hell, Jane,” he growled. “You’re perfect.”

I felt a flush of pride, of desire, as I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs. My pussy was already glistening, my arousal evident, and I knew he was watching every move. “Your turn,” I teased, my voice husky.

He smirked, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. His chest was broad and muscular, dusted with a light scattering of hair that trailed down his abs. I bit my lip, my eyes tracing the contours of his body as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head already glistening with pre-cum. It was a beautiful sight, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of taking it into my mouth.

But tonight wasn’t about that—at least, not yet.

Daniel stepped out of his pants, kicking them aside, and then reached for the clasp of my bra. With a flick of his fingers, it came undone, and I shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. My breasts bounced slightly, my nipples tight and aching, and I saw his eyes darken further.

“Come here,” he commanded, pulling me toward the bedroom.

The room was just as sleek and modern as the rest of the apartment, with a large bed dominating the space. Daniel pushed me gently onto the mattress, his hands roaming over my body as he climbed onto the bed with me. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

His mouth trailed down my body, kissing and nipping at my breasts, his tongue swirling around my nipples until I was arching my back and moaning his name. His hands slid down my thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between my legs. I felt his breath ghost over my pussy, and my clit twitched in anticipation.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his fingers dipping into my folds. “So ready for me.”

I panted, my hips bucking slightly as he teased me, his fingers circling my clit but never quite touching it. “Please,” I begged, my voice desperate. “I need you.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, and then his mouth descended on me. His tongue was hot and wet, lapping at my pussy with a hunger that made me cry out. He ate me like he was starving, his tongue flicking and thrusting, his lips sucking gently on my clit. I was a mess of moans and whimpers, my hands tangling in his hair as he drove me closer and closer to the edge.

“Daniel,” I gasped, my body tightening as the orgasm built. “I’m—”

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling away. I whimpered in protest, but he silenced me with a kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth as he positioned himself between my legs. His cock nudged at my entrance, and I spread my legs wider, desperate for him to fill me.

He thrust into me in one smooth motion, his cock sinking deep into my wet, eager pussy. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his hips snapping forward with a rhythm that was both relentless and exquisite. “Fuck, Jane,” he groaned, his voice raw. “You feel so good.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with my own, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound drowned out by our moans and the wet slap of skin on skin. His cock felt incredible, stretching me, filling me, and I knew I was close again, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice tight with need. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”

His words were all it took. My body shattered, my pussy clenching around him as I screamed his name, my juices flooding around his dick. He followed me over the edge, his thrusts becoming frantic as he buried himself deep inside me, his cum shooting into me in hot, pulsing bursts.

We lay there for a moment, breathless and tangled together, his cock still buried inside me. Then, with a groan, he pulled out, his cum spilling from my pussy in a thick, creamy stream.

I watched, fascinated, as he leaned down, his tongue tracing the path of his cum down my thigh. He lapped it up greedily, his moans of satisfaction mingling with mine. It was filthy, raw, and unbelievably hot. I felt my clit throb as he continued, his tongue flicking and swirling, savoring every drop.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my hands resting on his head. “That’s so fucking hot.”

He looked up at me, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. “Told you,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Tastes even better than I remembered.”

I laughed, a soft, breathless sound, as he kissed his way back up my body, his lips brushing against mine. “You’re insane,” I teased, my fingers threading through his hair.

“Maybe,” he admitted, smiling against my skin. “But you’re the one who let me do it.”

I pulled him closer, kissing him deeply, our tongues tangling as the taste of his cum lingered between us. It was dirty, decadent, and utterly perfect. And as I lay there, in his arms, I knew this was just the beginning.

The Voyeur’s Secret

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I had always found my neighbor, Ben, incredibly attractive. It’s not every day you get to see a handsome young man like him living right next door. I first laid eyes on him when he was just a boy, and over the years, I watched him grow into a man, my interest in him growing alongside his physical transformation. It was hard not to notice the way his body had filled out, his broad shoulders and muscular frame a stark contrast to the skinny kid he once was. And now, at 18, he was a sight to behold.

That particular night, as I was getting ready for bed, something compelled me to glance out of my bedroom window. The moonlight illuminated Ben’s room, his curtains left open, providing me with a clear view of his private sanctuary. There he was, sitting at his desk, his attention seemingly fixed on something on his computer screen. I felt a tingle of excitement as I realized I had the perfect opportunity to indulge in my secret pleasure—watching him.

As I peered through the window, my breath caught in my throat when I noticed his hand moving slowly down towards his crotch. My eyes widened with anticipation as he began to rub himself through his pants, his face contorted in concentration. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, my heart racing with the thrill of witnessing such an intimate act.

Then, in a bold move, Ben stood up and unzipped his pants. My mouth went dry as I saw him reach inside and pull out his cock. It was a beautiful sight—long, thick, and already semi-erect. I bit my lip, suppressing a gasp, as I realized this was the first time I had ever seen him like this. His youthful body, combined with that impressive manhood, was a heady combination.

With slow, deliberate movements, he removed his pants and underwear, revealing his naked form. My eyes feasted on the sight of his firm, round ass as he turned and lay down on his bed, his cock standing proudly erect between his thighs. I felt a familiar warmth between my legs as I watched him settle into a comfortable position, one hand resting on his stomach, the other beginning to stroke his length.

I couldn’t help but mimic his actions, my own hands moving to my breasts, caressing and pinching my nipples through the thin fabric of my nightgown. I imagined it was Ben’s strong hands on my body, his fingers teasing
my sensitive peaks. My other hand drifted down, sliding beneath the gown, finding the dampness that had already begun to pool between my thighs.

As I touched myself, my eyes remained fixed on Ben. He seemed lost in his own world, his hand moving in a steady rhythm up and down his shaft. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, and a soft groan escaped his lips. I imagined the feel of his smooth skin under my fingers, the weight of his balls in my palm, and the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue.

I matched my pace to his, stroking my clit in time with his strokes. I could feel my orgasm building, my breath coming in short gasps as I pictured him thrusting into me, filling me with his youthful vigor. My mind was a blur of erotic thoughts as I watched his hand move faster, his body tensing with the effort. Suddenly, he arched his back, his hips lifting off the bed, and I knew he was close. I held my breath, my fingers working furiously, as I witnessed the first spurt of his release. His cum shot high into the air, a thick white stream that landed on his chest and stomach, painting his skin with its sticky warmth, followed by several more spurts.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. As I watched him climax, my own orgasm washed over me in powerful waves. My fingers worked my clit frantically as I came, my body trembling with the force of my release. I bit down on
my lip to muffle my cries, not wanting to disturb the peaceful night. After a few moments, I opened my eyes to see Ben still lying on his bed, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He reached for some tissues and began to clean himself, his movements slow and satisfied. Then, as if sensing my presence, he turned his head towards my window, his gaze locking with mine.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, we were frozen in time. I saw a mixture of emotions flash across his face—shock, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. I knew he had caught me watching him, and I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks. Quickly, I mouthed the words, “Thank you,” my heart pounding in my chest.

Ben’s mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he simply nodded, a small, bashful smile playing on his lips. I returned the smile, my heart racing, and then, with a final lingering look, I closed my curtains, bringing an end to our silent, yet intensely intimate, encounter.

I lay in bed that night, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of my orgasm. I couldn’t believe what had just transpired between us. It was as if a silent understanding had passed between us in that brief moment of eye contact. I knew I had crossed a line, but the thrill of being caught only added to the excitement. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with images of Ben’s naked body, I couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for us. Would he confront me about what he’d seen? Or would he, too, keep this secret, a shared moment of voyeuristic pleasure that would forever bind us together? I smiled to myself, my fingers lingering between my legs, as I imagined the possibilities that lay ahead.