She Invites, I Devour

The walk after drinks was short—

five minutes, maybe ten—

but every step stretched forever.

Her body trembled beside me,

toy vibration as per my thumb.

I was fucking her already,

Mind and her needy little pussy

Each press sent her giggling, gasping,

“Daddy—Oh my fucking God,”

her knees buckling,

her breath catching,

mini orgasms spilling from her like secrets.

Yes, we are a SINFUL secret.

She could barely walk straight,

a slutty stumble in shoes,

and I loved watching her break 

for me in public shadows.

We reached her building.
She pulled me into the elevator,
third floor lit like destiny.
The doors closed,
and the ache detonated.
Hands grabbing,
Mouths colliding,
a kiss that was weeks overdue.

Hungry, violent,
wet with pent-up lust.
Her nails dug my back,
my hands grabbed her ass,
our moans echoing in the mirrored box.

Her whisper, dripping sin:
“Daddy… Come with me.”
(She did forgot i was a stranger)

At her door, it unlock

she didn’t knock, didn’t pause—

just pulled me inside,

and the lock clicked shut behind us.

we Kissed again

I grabbed her throat from behind,

a firm choke,

her body pinned to mine.

My other hand slid inside her dress,

squeezing her tits,

feeling lace dig into my palm.

My growl at her ear:

“Now Daddy’s in control.”

She moved slow to the kitchen,
and with a brat’s smirk
she bent over the counter.
Looked back at me—
hair falling wild,
eyes daring,
pussy dripping.

“Fuck me, Daddy,
I’m all yours.”

Not yet.
I lifted her dress,

Saw the vibrating bullet destroying her clit.

Hand landing heavy on her ass.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Sharp smacks,
her body jolting,
her moans splitting the air.
Every bratty text she sent me—
paid for in red, stinging skin.
She whimpered,
but she knew it was earned.

I lifted her onto the counter,

turned her 180 like my fucktoy,

spread her open on marble.

The toy slid out—

soaked, messy, humming with her ache.

Her pussy glistened,

dripping down the stone,

begging for my mouth.

I sat on the bar stool,

eyes locked on her slutty face.

“Open wide, Baby girl"

"Spread is nice, Honey"

"Daddy’s hungry.”

My tongue devoured her.
Long strokes, fast flicks,
every inch of her clit worshipped,
my mouth drowning in her taste.
Her scream hit the kitchen walls,
orgasms crashing over her body
like waves breaking.

“Daddy—Fuck, Daddy—I can’t—
I’m Cumming...”

Her thighs shook,
her pussy flooded,
and I just kept eating.
juicy Ten minutes,
a storm of tongue and lips,
drinking every drop.

When she collapsed back,
I shoved two fingers inside,
then deeper,
curling, shaking,
stretching her open
while she wailed beneath me.
I stared at her face—
a slut unravelling—
as I finger-fucked her raw.
Her body convulsed,
her back arched,
and then—
the gush.

She squirted, screaming,
liquid spilling everywhere,
dripping off the counter,
wetting the floor.

I kept pumping,
vigorous, merciless,
her moans breaking into cries,
her orgasm tearing her apart
until she went limp,
a soaked, used mess.

She lay spread out,
panting, ruined,
her pussy still twitching.
My fingers glistened with her cum.
Her eyes half-closed,
cheeks flushed,
hair plastered to her face.
She looked at me,
a grin curling,
a brat still hiding somewhere inside.

“Prosecco, Daddy?”

I kissed 

Carried her

Said Yes

Because, I knew

The night was just beginning.

First Sin, Filthy Sips

Six o’clock, outside the bar,

black denim tight,

denim shirt on my shoulders,

and there she is walking towards me,

my eyes locking on her the second she appears.

Black dress flowing,
lace teasing beneath the neckline,
her smile pulling me under.
“Finally,” she says,
and the word melts between us
as I crash into her hug,
breathing her in,
her perfume mixing with my skin,
her cleavage brushing my chest.
The city disappears.
It’s only us.

Inside—a dim corner table,
hidden from wandering eyes.
We sit, but not apart.
The tension is thick,
and in minutes
her lips are on mine.
Soft, hungry,
again and again,
every few breaths we’re kissing,
as if the weeks of waiting
demand payment now.

French cocktails arrive,
but my true intoxication
is her shifting on my palm.
She’s perched on my hand,
lace pressing to my skin,
warmth seeping through,
making me throb against my jeans.

I made her feel my throbbing cock,

I feel her heat, her need,
her body whispering yes.

She leaves for the restroom—
my mind racing.
When she returns,
her lips curl, her eyes daring,
and she places a remote in my hand.

“Daddy’s in control now.”

I press,
watching her breath catch,
hips tightening,
eyes glazing as the toy hums inside her.
She hands me her thong—
warm, damp, forbidden.
I hold it,
inhale softly,
press it to my lips.
The taste of her is everywhere,
and I kiss her deep,
slipping it back into her mouth
so she tastes her own desire.

Around us the bar hums—
music, glasses, laughter—
but our world is smaller, darker, hotter.
She shivers in my grip,
a quiet orgasm shuddering through her,
and I know she’s mine.

After forty-five minutes,
she leans close,

eyes locked, voice low:
“Let’s go to my apartment.”

The Needy Eyes,

A Needy Voice,

One Needy Slut.

We finish the drinks,
the night already trembling.
Hand in hand,
her lace still in my pocket,
her taste still on my tongue,
I breathe her in—
the scent of sin,
the scent of Montréal,
the scent of what comes next.

Montréal doesn’t know yet.
But the city will learn tonight
how dirty we can be,
how far we’ll go,
how two forbidden bodies
will fuck themselves into memory.

Montréal Ache

Morning Haze, Airport Rush,

 Her scent in my hand,
A duty-free sin bottled,
a promise of what I’ll smear
on her throat later.
Three and a half hours
to the city where she waits,
my cock already aching before
the plane even leaves the ground.

Five days denied,
Our bodies quaking
with unshed orgasms

The plane climbs,
and so does the ache.
You, naked in tangled sheets,
sending me your body in fragments—
soft skin flashing,
hips rolling,
a brat’s smile daring me through the glass.

You ask me to choose your thong,
as if choice makes you innocent.
then you wear it for daddy
and wet it for your daddy
your hand sliding over it,
your moans caught between work and want.
You make me hard.
You make me furious.
You make me need to own you.

I read our old filth,

the words that should have stayed buried,

while new ones arrive,

sharper, wetter, darker.

Every line a reminder

that what we’re building isn’t allowed—

and that’s what makes it unbearable.

In the airplane toilet,
I free myself, cock swollen, throbbing,
and I give her what she begged for—
a picture she’ll hide,
a picture she’ll keep,
a picture that binds her to me.
Thick, veined, dripping.
A sin in pixels.
A promise I will force into her tonight.

By noon I land.
By six, we’ll drink.
The city will glow around us,
but the fire will burn beneath the surface—
two bodies colliding in a hunger
that doesn’t belong to us,
but we’ll take it anyway.

Montréal won’t know the truth—
but we will.
The forbidden is sweeter when it’s ours,
and tonight,
the ache we’ve carried through distance,
through guilt,
through need—
will finally split open.

Montréal ache.
Our ache.

Unforgivable, 

Unstoppable, 

Inevitable.

 

Unbound Acceptance

Give yourself to me and 
I’ll give myself to you.
It doesn't matter what people think,
we’ll do whatever it is we want to do.

I sweep across your eyelids a
dark shade of blue,
paint your lips a ruby red;
oh, such a beautiful hue!
When we go out in public people
look at us like we’re a couple of freaks.

But it's alright ‘cuz we already know
we’re unique.
When the urge arises I'm not afraid
to display my affection for all to see.
No timidity;

I just set my passion free.
I feel something harden against me
when our mouths meet, but oops!
That's what happens when we turn up the heat.

The way you look in that dress arouses me,
affects me physiologically.

Are you feeling the same way I'm feeling
‘cuz right about now I wanna
get down to some sexual healing.

Daddy Cum in my Cunt

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Obedience Unlocked

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The Ache You Left Behind

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Steam-Bound Goodbye

She’s barely moved since I fucked her raw on the couch.

One leg draped over the armrest, thighs still slick and red from the way I held her down.
My cum is leaking out of her slowly — a mess between her legs, gleaming in the sunset light.

She looks utterly ruined.
Which is exactly how I want to remember her.

I should leave.
But not yet.
Not while her skin still smells like sweat and surrender.

I rise, grab her hand. My voice is low:

“Shower. Now.”

She stirs, wincing deliciously as she stands. Her thighs press together like she’s trying to hold me inside her.

I lead her to the bathroom.
The air thickens with heat as I turn the water on — scalding, punishing, just the way she likes it when she’s soft and aching.

She steps in, head tilted back, letting the water run over her chest.

I follow.
And the second I close the door behind us, I cage her against the wall.

“You think I’m leaving with this pussy still dripping and untouched?”

She gasps. “I—I didn’t—”

“Shhh. Don’t speak.”

I grab her hips and spin her around.

She presses her palms to the tile as I drop to my knees.
The water streams down her back as I spread her open from behind.

She’s so fucking soaked — not just from the water.
I watch a thick drop of my own cum slide down the inside of her thigh.

“Look at this mess,” I growl. “I gave you all of me and your greedy little cunt still wants more.”

I bury my tongue between her folds without warning.
Lick her slow and deep, from the mess at her hole to the sensitive pulse of her clit.
She moans — high, sharp, buckling against the wall.

“Stay still,” I snap, gripping her ass tight.

I eat her until she’s dripping again, cunt throbbing against my face, hands slamming against the wall like she’s praying for mercy.

I stand.

“Now you’re ready.”

I grab my cock, thick and already twitching from the taste of her, and slide it between her slick folds.

I don’t ease in. I take her.

Hard. Deep. In one brutal thrust that knocks a cry out of her throat.

“That’s it. Let me hear how much you’ll miss this.”

My fingers thread into her hair and yank her head back as I fuck her.
Every stroke slams her hips into the tile, her hands barely holding her up.

The water pours over us, but the sounds of sex still echo — wet, loud, unfiltered.

Her cunt tightens around me with every thrust, like it doesn’t want to let go.
Neither do I.

“You’re gonna walk funny tomorrow,” I whisper. “Gonna smell me all fucking day.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpers. “Want it. Want you deep. Want you to stay—”

I growl and slam into her harder.
The slap of my hips against her ass bounces off the walls.

She starts shaking.

“Don’t you cum until I tell you,” I hiss. “I want you on edge when I leave.”

She nods, mouth open, eyes wild.

I reach around, rub her clit fast and filthy, and when she’s right at the edge—

“Now.”

She cums hard — loud, violent, pussy pulsing around my cock as I fuck her through it.

I pound her until I feel myself crest.

Then I slam in deep and cum inside her again, spilling everything into the mess she already is — filling her until it leaks down her thighs, mixing with the water on the floor.

We both go still.

Her forehead rests against the tile.
Her body trembling, used, owned.

I press against her back, kissing her neck gently now.

“That’s how I say goodbye.”

She doesn’t answer.
She just breathes.

Heavy. Slow. Satisfied.

I pull out and watch it drip from her, hot and slick.

Mine.

We wash in silence.
I dry her with a towel, soft for once. Kiss her forehead. She leans into it.

I get dressed. She stays wrapped in the towel, glowing and marked.

At the door, she finally whispers:

“That was… goodbye?”

I smirk.

“For now.”

And then I leave her there — soaked, throbbing, filled with me.

Exactly how she wanted it.

 

Ruined Like You Asked

I shut the door behind us, and it’s like flipping a switch.

She’s still standing there in that dress—soft blue, short, innocent.
Her mouth says nothing, but her body screams.
Tense thighs. Bare legs. Lips parted like she wants to be fed.

I step forward, slowly. Let the silence stretch.

“You’ve been teasing me since brunch,” I say, voice low.
“You think I didn’t see you squirming in your seat like a wet little thing?”

Her breath catches. I don’t wait for an answer.

“Take off the dress. Slowly.”

She obeys.
She always does.

Fingers tremble as she unzips it, slipping it down inch by inch.
No panties—good girl. I taught her well.

Her nipples are hard, her inner thighs glistening, and fuck—she’s beautiful.
Obedient. Edged with need.
Her silence is part of the game. Part of her offering.

“You liked sitting across from me like this?”
I stalk toward her, circling. “Full of my cum, pretending to be polite?”

She nods once, shivering.

“I could’ve fingered you under that table,” I whisper into her hair.
“Made you cum while the waiter refilled your coffee.”

A small sound escapes her throat. I grab her jaw.

“No. Not yet. You’ll speak when I say, cum when I say, break when I say.”

She gasps as I spin her around and slam her back to the door.

Her legs wobble. I press my body against hers, one hand snaking between her thighs.
Soaked.

“Fucking dripping. You sat through an entire meal like this?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpers.

I don’t praise her. Not yet.

Instead, I lift her dress—just enough to expose her—and unbuckle my belt with one hard, deliberate motion.

The sound alone makes her moan.

I line myself up behind her, one hand gripping her throat from behind, the other pinning her wrist to the door.
And I take her.

No warning. No buildup.

Just a brutal thrust, full and deep—she chokes on a cry, her body arching against mine.

She’s so tight it’s fucking unreal.
Hot, trembling, soaking wet, wrapped around me like a vice.
Perfect.

I slam into her again. And again.
The door rattles. Her moans echo off the walls, raw and shameless.

“You wanted this,” I growl into her ear.
“Wanted to be wrecked, used, stuffed full again.”

She nods, gasping.

“You were such a sweet little thing at brunch,” I sneer.
“All polite and glowing. But this is what you are.”
I thrust harder. “A mess. My mess.”

She cries out when I slap her ass.
It stings loud and sharp, and her cunt clenches around me like she’s about to cum.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” I snap.
“Hold it.”

She whimpers, her hands clawing at the door like it might save her.
It won’t.

I grab her by the hair and pull her upright against me.
“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir.”

“Who owns your holes?”

“You do.”

“Then cum for me now.”

She explodes—moaning, screaming, falling apart as I fuck her through it.
Legs shaking, eyes rolling back.

I don’t stop until I feel her pulse around me.
I thrust deep one final time and cum hard inside her, groaning as I fill her again.

Her body collapses against the door, spent and shaking.

I hold her there a moment longer, both of us breathing like we’ve run miles.

Then I gather her into my arms, lift her up—so light, so soft—and carry her to the couch.

I wrap her in a blanket, settle her on my lap. Her cheek rests against my chest.

I kiss the top of her head.

“You did well,” I murmur.
“So good. So fucking perfect.”

She doesn’t speak.
She doesn’t need to.

Her body says everything—
Safe.
Wrecked.
Loved.

Mine.

 

Wait is Over

Him (closing the door behind them):

Take off the dress. Slowly.

You’ve been teasing me since your first sip of coffee.

Did you think I wouldn’t notice?

Her (unzipping, lips parted):
I hoped you would.
I thought about you under the table.
My thighs were shaking for hours.

Him (stepping closer, lowering his voice):
And you were wet.
I could smell it when you crossed your legs.
You carried my want between your thighs like a secret offering.

Her (dress slipping down her hips):
I liked the ache.
Liked sitting there dripping with your come
while the world thought I was just glowing.

Him (brushing knuckles down her spine):
You walked beside me like you were mine.
Because you are.
You obeyed in silence, and that obedience was loud as sin.

Her (knees tightening):
Every word you said felt like pressure between my legs.
I wanted you to drag me into a corner
and remind me how I’m meant to be used.

Him (gripping her jaw):
You belong on your knees. Not for my pleasure—
but because it’s where you need to be.

Her (sinking, eyes wide, trembling):
I crave the weight of your hand in my hair.
The pull. The power.
I want your cock down my throat until I forget how to say “no.”

Him (unzipping):
Then open.
Let me fuck the good girl out of you with every inch.
You’ve been so obedient—
Now let me ruin that quiet.

Her (lips parted, desperate):
Yes, Sir.
I want to be wrecked.
I want to feel your need inside my mouth, my throat, my cunt.
I want to be nothing but yours.

Him (thumbing her lip, voice like gravel):
And you will be.
From the bruises I left last night
to the tremble in your breath now—
everything you are belongs to me.

Her (whispering):
Then take it.
Take all of me.
Break me open until there’s nothing left but your name in my mouth.

Him (pulling her up, slamming her to the door):
You’ve begged for this all day.
Now I’m going to ruin you properly.