Joko44

Updates!

• Still tinkering with my newer cuck story. Currently brainstorming how the plot will go and the characters involved. I'll have a preview ready by this weekend.

• I also got a head start on Tempting 3 and will be posting a beta preview sometime this week!

• After these two stories are done, the next Foreign Chapter will be slated along with some other stories I haven't visited in a while.

• I have a few art pieces in the process of being made, too. I'll be sharing those once they are finished.

Divine Intervention (Official)

The wind howled across the barren wastes, dragg

Audience Survey

Hey guys! Just curious about what my audience thinks about the cuck genre. I'm writing my first story about this, so it will be a little new, well, not really, given the type of stories I write. But it will be a new take, having the husband involved in some way.

I have a few ideas for this story I'm working on, and it will lean more towards the voyeur type plot, possibly taking a darker route as they delve deeper into the fantasy. But I would like to hear what you guys think!

The Old Neighbor Ch. 07 (Official)

Author's Note: There will be one last epilogue chapter to wrap things up nicely. Also, since Patreon doesn't like certain words, the original doc will be linked below with the unchanged words. It's nothing major, though.

Sarah sat cross-legged on the carpet, barefoot in simple jeans and a sweater, while Alice babbled happily on the pastel playmat spread before her. The baby kicked her little feet and smacked at a toy rattle, her tiny fingers curling with uncoordinated delight. Sarah smiled, watching her daughter squirm and coo. She leaned forward and gently ran her hand through the soft curls of blonde hair that were just beginning to grow fuller on Alice’s small head.

“You’re getting so big…” she murmured, a small, warm smile tugging at her lips.

Those bright blue eyes stared up at her, so unmistakably Albert’s. Sarah had to take a moment to breathe. She still couldn’t believe it. That this little girl… her daughter… had come from him. Her dirty old neighbor. That same lecherous man who used to leer at her while she pulled weeds or watered the front hedges. And now here they were. Her baby. His baby. And another growing inside her.

Her other hand drifted down, resting protectively over the subtle curves of her stomach beneath her sweater. A second one. His again. She wasn’t even showing that much yet, but she could feel it swelling inside.

Her gaze lingered on Alice as the baby turned onto her side, gurgling something incoherent. Sarah reached out and traced a finger along her soft, chubby cheek. She savored how innocent she was despite her taboo conception. 

Sarah leaned back, sighing, the moment of warmth giving way to a familiar pressure on her chest and shoulders. Stress. The weight of everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks was bearing down on her again. 

Alex.

Her husband was behind bars. The charges had come so fast that it barely felt real. Fraud. Embezzlement.  A dozen things she didn’t fully understand. She remembered the chaos, the feds asking her questions, the confusion, the lawyers calling nonstop, her in-laws pointing fingers, the hushed phone calls with relatives. Her once-stable life had crumbled in the blink of an eye.

She closed her eyes and tried to compose herself. Everything was so crazy now. Lawyers’ fees. Custody threats. Her own parents were asking what the hell she’d been doing, why she hadn’t seen it coming. No one knew the truth of it all. No one knew how far from that marriage she’d already drifted. Not even Alex.

Especially not him.

Sarah opened her eyes and stared at Alice again. Her baby girl. Her proof. Her secret. She wanted to protect her, keep her out of all this madness. Keep her safe.

But lately… she kept thinking about leaving. Just running. Disappearing into the world somewhere with Alice and this new baby inside her. No more lies. No more pretending that her marriage was happy and wholesome. She wasn’t even sure who she was supposed to be anymore, a faithful wife, doting mother, adulterous whore, or something in between.

What she did know, however, was that when Albert held her, when his voice rasped promises in her ear, when he kissed her, fucked her… She felt at peace, fulfilled. Real.

A subtle clicking of the lock opening came from the front door, snapping her out of her pondering moment.

Sarah rose from the playmat, adjusting her sweater back over her shoulder as she made her way through the quiet house. She padded across the hardwood floor, heart fluttering as it always did when she recognized that particular click of the door opening. 

By the time she made it to the front door, there he stood, Albert, with his ever-present smirk and weathered face, tossing the key she had entrusted him with to her house ever since her husband had been taken away. His faded blue eyes wasted no time sweeping over her, per usual, lingering on the curve of her hips, her breasts, then the way her elegant blonde hair fell a little messy around her shoulders.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, stepping forward. 

“Hi,” she whispered, already bending down slightly toward the shorter man and leaning in.

Their lips met in a slow, familiar kiss, a quiet hunger passing between them. Sarah sighed into the kiss, her hand clutching the front of his shirt. When he pulled back, he cupped her face for a moment, then his hand drifted down. 

His bony fingers pressed gently against her belly. 

“Hmm,” Albert hummed low in his throat, his palm flattening over the soft swell. “So sexy… so perfect… mine.”

Sarah smiled faintly, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “You always say that, Albert.”

“Because it’s true! You love it when I tell you, stop with that,” he replied with a knowing grin. 

Sarah rolled her fetching green eyes and laughed with him, stepping aside and letting him in. Albert shuffled past her, his old eyes immediately locking onto the small form squirming on the playmat in the living room. “Ah! There she is!” the old man exclaimed, his voice warm and cheerful.

Alice kicked her legs and let out a babbling squeal, recognizing him right away. Albert lowered himself slowly to one knee, a slight grunt escaping his throat as he knelt beside her. She reached out with chubby hands, grabbing his shirt, and he let her tug. 

“Hey there, my little sweetheart,” he said, voice uncharacteristically softer than it was with anyone else. He leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. “Daddy’s here.”

Alice squealed again, her tiny hand patting his jaw like she was trying to hold him in place. 

Sarah stood behind them, arms crossed under her chest, watching the moment unfold. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She couldn’t help but savor the heartwarming interaction between a man and his daughter despite the depraved truth behind it all. 

They had dinner not long after. It was simple, just roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. Sarah sat across from Albert at the kitchen table, lazily sipping a cup of tea with her hair now tied up messily. Albert cut up bits of food for Alice, who sat in her highchair between them, babbling and smearing mashed potatoes across her tray with enthusiastic abandon.

Albert cleaned her face with a practiced hand, unfazed by the mess, before chuckling. “She’s got your attitude, you know.”

Sarah offered him a suspicious, sharp yet playful look as she sipped on her tea. “Oh? What are you trying to say, I’m difficult?”

Albert caught the stern yet light intensity in her eyes. “No… I’m saying she’s got your… spirit. Yes, spirit,” he replied, shooting her a wink. 

Later, with the dishes washed and the kitchen quiet, Albert sat in the living room with Alice on his lap. He bounced her gently on his knee, making exaggerated faces that had her giggling uncontrollably, arms flailing. Her squeals echoed through the house like fireworks. 

Watching from the couch, Sarah couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes softened, and she leaned her cheek into her hand. 

“I’m… surprised,” she said quietly, not hiding her amusement. “You’re actually… a good dad.”

Albert snorted. “Didn’t think this old buck had it in me?”

She shook her head with mock disapproval, grinning. “Not even a little.”

He chuckled, the deep sound making Alice giggle again. “Well,” he began, patting the toddler’s back, “maybe I’m a little more than just a dirty old bastard.” He glanced at her. “Maybe I’m even husband material.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as she stood up to gather some toys off the floor. “Oh, here we go…”

“What?” he asked, mocking innocence. “I’m serious. When are we going to stop pretending? We already have a kid. Another on the way. We’re practically halfway there. I thought we agreed on this?”

“Albert…” she warned, her voice gentle but firm.

But he didn’t stop.

“When are you going to leave that man for me already?” he prodded, quieter now, still bouncing Alice but staring at Sarah with something a little heavier behind his faded blue eyes. “Things are perfectly aligned. He’s in prison, out of the picture. I’m sure you’re justified in divorcing him, no?”

“Like I said for the millionth time, Albert. I can’t just do that,” she said carefully. “Not yet, at least.”

“Why not?” he challenged.

“Because… It’s too soon. Everything is still a mess right now. The lawyers, the trial, and his family have been breathing down my neck. I can’t just leave him right now… that would be very strange and suspicious.” She paused, then added with a sigh, “Things need to cool down before I make any moves. For both our sakes.”

Albert stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he looked down at Alice and ran a finger along her arm, quiet again.

“Hm, I just don’t like hiding it anymore,” he muttered. “You’re my woman.”

Sarah softened. “I don’t either. But this is for the best. You know that.”

He nodded slowly. But she could see the flicker of impatience in his calm expression. 

She sat on the armchair beside him and gently cupped his wrinkled face. “Soon,” she said, her voice low and promising. “Just… not yet, you big baby.”

Albert broke into a playful, annoyed huff. “Augh… I’m gonna hold you to that, darlin’.”

“Yeah, yeah, you always do, Al,” Sarah responded, her tone light, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before getting up to resume collecting Alice’s toys. 

-

Later that night, the house was quiet. Alice had long since fallen asleep, and the soft whir of the baby monitor buzzed faintly on the nightstand. In the dim light of the bedroom, Sarah moved atop Albert, her bare body straddling his, her skin flushed with heat and sweat. Her blonde hair spilled freely down her back as she rode him, slow and deep, her palms pressed flat against his chest. 

The old man groaned beneath her, his wrinkly hands gripping her plush ass, guiding her rhythm as she sank down on his big cock again and again. “Fuck, Sarah… you ride me like a damn goddess,” he growled, digging his fingers into moist skin. “This tight little pussy’s gonna ruin me.”

She gasped softly, biting her lip, her green eyes locked on his as her hips rolled with practiced ease. “You already are ruined, honey,” she whispered with a smirk, her voice sultry and teasing. 

His grin turned darker. He loved it when she called him that. It made things between them feel so real, grounded. “You know what we should do?” he rasped. “Just say fuck it. Sell your place, sell mine… take the baby and disappear. New town, new names. Nobody knows shit. Just you, me, and the kids.”

Sarah moaned, her pace slowing for a moment as the fantasy flickered across her mind. A fresh start. No drama. No Alex. No lies. Just… them.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” Albert said, reading her flushed face. “No more hiding. No more pretending. Just you riding your baby daddy every night without guilt.”

Her breathing quickened. The idea was tempting. It had crossed her mind a few times before this, but she never gave it any actual thought. “Hmm… Maybe,” she murmured, rocking her hips faster now, chasing the high building deep inside her. “Maybe I do… Although… I’m not quite sure about the whole changing our names part. Too romanticizing, don’t you think?”

“Hehe, you get what I mean, darlin’. But just picture it,” Albert grunted, his hips subtly bucking up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock burying deeper into her soaked pussy. “You, in the kitchen, pregnant again… tits full of milk, Alice running around, no one to judge us. Just mine. All fucking mine.”

Sarah cried out softly, her body trembling, thighs tightening round his skinny hips. “Fuck… Albert… you’ve got quite the imagination… Hmmm.”

He sat up just enough to grab her hips, thrusting up into her with more pronounced movements. Their bodies slapped together with a wet, desperate rhythm. “Argh… yes… I fucking feel it, baby. Cum for me… Cum with me…”

“I’m gonna—ahh—yes—fuck, I’m cumming!” she moaned, her voice breaking as she arched her back, her orgasm crashing over her in a hot, pulsing wave.

Albert followed a second later with a deep groan, his cock throbbing inside her as he spewed his heavy load deep inside her already knocked up pussy. His arms locked around her waist as he held her tight, grinding up into her until the last drop was buried deep. 

Their breathing slowed, their skin slick and tangled. Sarah slumped forward against his chest, her heart pounding, lips brushing his neck.

“You’re really desperate for this, aren’t you?” she whispered. 

Albert smiled against her hair. “You know I am.”

-

A few days later, Sarah loaded Alice’s stroller into the trunk while Albert fastened the baby’s sunhat under her chin. The sky was clear, the air warm, and for the first time in weeks, there was no pressure, no calls, no stress. Just the zoo. Something normal for a change with her daughter and her lover. 

It felt good, just like how it was when they went to Europe together.

As they walked through the park gates, Sarah held Alice in her arms while Albert pushed the empty stroller, his faded veteran’s cap shielding his eyes from the sun. Families surrounded them, the sound of chattering and the scent of popcorn and sunscreen filling the air. 

They stopped near a statue of a bronze elephant, where Sarah crouched to snap a photo. Alice sat on Albert’s lap, reaching out to touch the cool metal. Her little hand pressed against the statue’s leg while Albert grinned widely, one arm curled protectively around her.

“Hold still, Alice!” Sarah called out sweetly to the baby, trying to get her attention while holding her phone in position. “Look here, baby. Look at mommy!”

Click.

She smiled to herself. The image on her phone captured something she hadn’t fully realized she needed, a sense of what things could look like, what they were starting to look like. 

As she stepped back to admire the shot, a middle-aged woman nearby paused and smiled warmly. “Would you like me to take a picture of the three of you?” she offered. 

Sarah blinked, surprised, but nodded with a gracious smile. “That’d be lovely, thank you.”

Albert stood, and they all grouped up around the statue. Sarah nestled beside him with Alice cradled between them. The stranger counted down, snapped the picture, and handed the phone back with a kind smile. 

“She’s beautiful,” the woman said, peeking at Alice. “And it’s so sweet that you brought your father along. Three generations, huh?”

Albert smirked.

Sarah’s face twitched—half a smile, half a sigh. Before she could respond, Albert was already flashing her that familiar mischievous look. That same smug, unbothered gleam in his eye that always made her want to smack him and kiss him at the same time.

He turned back to the woman. “Oh, I’m not her father,” he said casually, wrapping his arm around Sarah’s waist. “This is my partner.” Then, gently patting Alice's head, he continued, “And this right here is our little bundle of love.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh… oh—really?”

Albert just chuckled as the woman awkwardly stammered and apologized, saying how lovely their family is before parting ways. Sarah shook her head, an annoyingly amused smirk curling at her lips.

“You love doing that, don’t you?” she muttered as they started walking again.

“Every time,” Albert said with a satisfied grin. “Their faces never get old.”

Neither do you, apparently.”

Albert winked. “Not where it counts.”

Sarah rolled her eyes again, but her smile lingered. It really was starting to feel like something real. 

They strolled through the shaded paths of the zoo, the sun bright, filtering through the trees. Alice sat happily in her stroller, a half-melted ice cream bar in hand, babbling and pointing at every enclosure they passed.

“Ma! Ma!” she squealed, jabbing her sticky finger toward a pair of lazy lions sprawled in the sun. 

“No, sweetie,” Sarah chuckled, wiping her daughter’s chin. “Not mommy. That’s a lion.”

Albert leaned in. “To be fair, she’s not too far off.”

Sarah gave him a sideways look, smiling as they continued walking. She wore a crisp white sleeveless V-neck blouse tucked high into her tan pleated shorts, the kind that showed off her legs and hugged just enough to make Albert’s imagination stir. Her open-toed sandal slides clicked against the pavement, her long hair tumbling freely down her back. The look was casual, breezy, and sexy as hell.

They found a quiet table on a patio near the snack bar for lunch. Alice gnawed on her little meal in the highchair, distracted by nearby pigeons, while Sarah sat back in her seat, sipping her drink.

Albert couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Her outfit clung to her just right—legs smooth and crossed, her top low enough to hint at the curves he knew too well. The way the warm breeze tousled her hair made her look divine. She lifted her glass to her lips, and he nearly groaned as his cock twitched in his shorts.

“You’re staring,” she said, not even looking up from her salad.

Albert grinned shamelessly. “Can you blame me?”

Sarah gave him a small glance, pretending to be annoyed, but the faint tug on her lips betrayed her. “You’re hopeless.”

“You dress like that and expect me not to have impure thoughts?” He leaned forward, his voice low. “You know what you look like right now? Like a sexy young mom on vacation who’s gonna sneak off to fuck her dirty old man once the kid’s napping.”

She bit her lip, cheeks blushing. The look she gave him wasn’t a denial.

“Keep talking like that,” she murmured, “and we’ll see how long it takes to get back to the car.”

After lunch, as they walked through the tropical bird exhibit, Sarah slowed her pace, one hand gently pressing against her stomach. Her focus drifted from the vivid colors and chirping parrots. She took a breath, deep and steady, but something still churned inside her.

Albert noticed immediately. 

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You alright?”

She gave him a tight smile, but faltered. “Yeah, just a little… queasy. Probably the heat. Or maybe that mystery chicken sandwich.”

Albert’s hand touched the small of her back, guiding her toward a nearby bench under some shade. “Come on. Sit down for a second. You don’t look so good.”

Sarah sighed as she lowered herself carefully onto the bench. Alice stayed content in her stroller beside them, babbling at the colorful birds fluttering just outside the enclosure fence. Sarah fanned herself lightly, still holding her stomach.

Albert sat closely next to her, gently rubbing her back. “You sure it’s just the lunch?”

She gave him a knowing look, eyes narrowing with a faint smirk.

“I mean…” she began, voice laced with teasing accusation. “I am growing your baby inside me, you know.”

Albert chucked under his breath. “Ah, so now it’s my fault you’re like this?”

Sarah leaned back, closing her eyes. “Mhm. Soon to have a big belly. Nausea. Sore boobs. You did this to me, old man. All your fault.”

Albert shook his head, taking and kissing the back of her hand. “And I’d do it again. Hell, I am doing it again.”

Sarah let out a groaning laugh, breathing steadily. “God help me, you're relentless.”

He leaned in close, his voice warm. “Just let me know if you need anything, alright?”

She opened one eye, catching his gaze with a tired smile. “Yeah… I need a nap, a foot rub, some mints… and maybe definitely a little naughty time.”

Albert laughed with a knowing grin. “A foot rub I can do… As for naughty time… that can wait for when we get back.”

She arched her brow, partially surprised. “Oh? Turning down a good time? That’s a first.”

The old man nodded, giving a warm kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, yeah, stay right here, I’ll be back with your mints.”

-

The sun had just started to dip as Albert drove them home, one hand on the wheel, the other resting firmly on Sarah’s bare thigh. She sat beside him in the passenger seat, her legs crossed loosely, her shorts riding high from the heat. 

“You’ve been staring at me since lunch,” she said, eyeing him with a playful smirk.

Albert’s hand squeezed her thigh, bony fingers brushing dangerously close to her inner leg. “You wore those little shorts on purpose.”

Sarah chuckled, nibbling her bottom lip. “Maybe. I’ve been aching all day. My hormones are out of control right now, and you… fuck. I need you and that big juicy cock.”

His old eyes flicked to her, a wicked grin spreading on his face. “When we get back, I’m going to bend your sexy little ass over and breed you all over again.”

Sarah moaned softly, her thighs pressing together, trapping his hand. “You better. I’ve been dripping since lunch. I want your cock in my mouth, in my pussy… everywhere. I’m serious, I can’t fucking wait.”

“Albert’s knuckles turned white on the wheel. “Keep talking like that, and I’m pulling over right now, darlin'.”

“No, she whispered, leaning in close, lips brushing his ear as she reached over and grabbed his crotch, fingers curling around the outline of his cock. “You’re gonna take me home, put our baby girl to bed… and then you’re going to ruin me.”

They got home fast.

The moment they stepped through the door, it was all unspoken coordination. Sarah gently carried Alice upstairs while Albert followed close behind, his hand glued to her lower back, his breath shallow with anticipation. They lay Alice gently in her crib, her little fingers twitching as she rolled to her side, peacefully asleep. 

Then Sarah turned to him with a seductive grin, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward her room. 

She didn’t speak. She giggled once, the kind of girlish, breathless sound that only came from a mix of arousal and mischief. She led him straight into her walk-in closet, which was wide, carpeted and dim. She shut the door behind them, a soft click echoing as she locked the door, trapping them to do god knows what. With a quick tap, she turned on the flashlight on her phone and set it face down onto the floor, casting a dim, diffused light across the carpet and shadows along the wall. 

Albert chuckled low. “You always know the best places to fuck.”

Sarah shot him a wicked smile over her shoulder. “I’m nesting. This is where I want to get filled by my big-cocked bull.”

They reached for each other and kissed hard without hesitation. Sarah yanked his shirt open, the buttons popping loose as her hands tore it from his body. Her lips were on his neck, his jaw, her slender fingers already working at his belt. Albert groaned, his wrinkled hands slipping beneath her tank top, feeling her swollen boobs through the fabric of her nursing bra. 

“You’re so fucking sexy like this,” he growled, pulling her top over her head. She stood there in her shorts and bra, the flesh of her tits soft and full, her belly just barely starting to swell again.

“Then strip, baby,” she breathed. “Because I’m going to choke on that cock.”

Albert shoved his shorts and briefs down together, his endowed manhood springing free, already and dripping with precum. Sarah dropped to her knees on the soft carpet, setting her hands on his thighs. She grabbed his base and licked slowly up his shaft, savoring every familiar vein and contour he had, before swirling her tongue around his pulsing tip, lapping up his salty goodness. 

“Mmm,” she moaned. “I love how you taste…”

She wrapped her lush lips around him and took him deep into her mouth. Her pace started slow, teasing, but quickly grew more needy, starved. Her free hand slid downward to cup his heavy balls, kissing and sucking them between deep, sloppy strokes of his cock.

Albert’s fingers tangled in her elegant blonde hair. “Fuck, baby… just like that… Ohhhhhh.”

She moaned around his length, the vibrations making his knees wobble. Her alluring green eyes were locked on his as she bobbed her head, her spit coating him, her tongue flicking at the underside of his shaft. 

When she popped him out of her mouth with a wet gasp, she smirked. “Don’t worry, Al. I’m going to milk every drop from you tonight.”

Albert could only growl as she took him right back in.

The dark closet was filled with their ragged breaths, pleasurable moans and the wet, lewd gluck-gluck-gluck of Sarah’s throat working over Albert’s cock.

She had him deep, his entire length buried past her lips with practiced ease, her nose pressed to the wiry hair at his base. Her throat flexed around him, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth and down her chin as she pulled back slowly, then took him in again, her green eyes were glassy, mascara smudged. 

Albert groaned, one hand braced on his hip, the other tangled tightly in her hair. “Fuck… augh… Sarah… that mouth of yours…”

She moaned around him in response, the sound muffled and obscene. She bobbed her head faster, her hand stroking the base as she sucked with greedy hunger. Every few strokes, she’d stop and lap at his heavy balls, dragging her tongue across the warm skin before sealing her lips around them, slurping, kissing, worshiping.

Eventually, she pulled back with a loud pop, her lips swollen, her face wet with spit. “I want you inside me,” she whispered, panting. “Right fucking now.”

Albert stepped back, his cock standing tall, slick and shiny with her saliva. He kicked his shorts the rest of the way off, then peeled off his socks, tossing them lazily into the corner of the closet. Sarah stood as well, unfastened her shorts and shimmying them down, followed by her plain cotton panties.

Her bare skin gleamed in the flashlight’s soft beam, her breasts heavy and sensitive, her belly gently swollen with his child. Albert’s eyes drank in her natural beauty.

She pulled him down with her onto the carpeted floor, lying on their sides. The clothes around them hung like curtains, swaying slightly from their urgent movement. They kissed deeply, starved—open-mouthed, tongues tangling, hands roaming over warm, slickening skin. Sarah wrapped a leg around his skinny hip, grinding her wet pussy against his cock.

“Put it in,” she breathed against his lips.

Albert shifted forward, reaching between them to guide himself. He rubbed the head of his cock along her soaked folds, groaning when he felt her heat and wetness.

Then he pushed in.

Sarah gasped, her back arching slightly as he slid into her. Inch by thick inch, her pussy stretched to welcome him, her leg tightening around him to pull him deeper. 

“Ohh fuck,” she whimpered. “God, you feel so good, Albert…”

The old man moaned into her neck as he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. They stayed there for a moment, breathing, soaking up every second of their hot, pulsing sexes connected in the most primal union.

Then slowly, rhythmically, he began to move.

Their bodies rocked slowly on the soft carpet. Their skin glistened with sweat in the glow of the flashlight, and the sound of slick, wet friction filled the space with every deep thrust.

Sarah pulled him closer; her mouth pressed sloppily to his. Her fingers dug into his back, slowly sliding lower to grab his ass, guiding his movements. 

“Ah ah ah… fuck me, baby,” she panted between their lips. “Fuck the shit out of me… Ouuuhh… deeper… harder… yessss.”

Albert grunted, fucking her with deep, steady strokes, feeling every inch of her wet walls clench around him. “Tight little pussy… You were made for me,” he rasped. “Always dripping, always needy for this old cock, you naughty slut.”

“Because you ruined me,” she gasped, licking at his jaw, her voice hot and unashamed. “Your cock is so fucking perfect… I always feel you in my stomach.... I can’t stop thinking about you… I swear, I get wetter hearing your voice.”

The pace quickened, their moans rising. They didn’t hold back, not in here, not in the safe confines of the closet. The walls absorbed everything. Albert’s heavy balls slapped against her with every thrust, slick skin meeting slick skin, their breaths loud, their cries of carnal desire unfiltered. 

“Hah… mhmmm, right there, Albert… fuck… right there… give it to me,” she moaned, eyes locked on his. “Breed my pussy.”

Albert growled, the sound low and primal. “Yeah? Take it… take this fucking cock… I own this pussy.”

Suddenly, with a quick thrust and a shift of weight, he rolled her onto her back and slid on top. Sarah gasped with playful excitement at the change of angle, her long legs falling open for him.

He grabbed her ankles, lifting them slightly, folding her in just enough to hit deeper, his cockhead perfectly smushing against her searing hot cervix. His wiry, older frame flexed against her softer, fuller body, their size difference only turning her on more. He drove into her with raw force now, his rhythm hard and relentless. 

“Fuck! Yes! Just like that!” she cried out, her fingers clawing at the carpet as her eyes fluttered back. “YES YES YES!”

Albert grunted with effort, panting, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Fuck! Argh! Ohhhh yeah! That’s it. Moan! Moan for me!” he roared, a wicked grin stretched across his face as he pounded her pussy. 

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Gonna squeeze this cock just like you always do?”

Sarah nodded frantically, her moans high-pitched and broken. “YES! I’m so fucking close, Albert, I’m gonna—I’m about to—”

Her whole body tensed, then shook violently as her orgasm crashed over her. Her legs spasmed, her back arched, and her pussy clenched down on his cock like a vice. “OHHHHH FUUUUCKKK!” she screamed, eyes rolling back as her climax rocked her core. 

Albert didn’t stop. He just held her ankles tighter, fucking her through every last wave, until she went limp beneath him, breathless, ruined, and completely his.

He slowed his thrusts, watching his beautiful baby momma twitch and gasp, her body still trembling from the orgasm he’d just wrung out of her. Her skin glowed under the soft flashlight beam, her breaths rising and falling as she panted heavily.

 She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, lips parted, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

But Albert wasn’t done. 

He moved, sliding his cock free from her pulsing slit and straddled her torso with a low grunt, his thick, throbbing cock hovered over her chest. Sarah instinctively knew what he wanted. Without a word, she reached up, cupped her full breasts, and squeezed them together. They were pillowy, slick with sweat, and sensitive with arousal. 

“You want to fuck them, you dirty old man?” she asked, licking her lips slowly, then biting them as she pressed her tits tighter. “Come on… use them. I know you want to.”

Albert grunted, guiding himself between the valley of her breasts, Sarah’s juices that slathered his cock making it smooth and easy. He began to thrust slowly, his cockhead poking out near her collarbone with each deep stroke. Sarah moaned at the filthy sight, watching his shaft glide between her tits, hot and heavy.

“God, you’re so fucking naughty,” he groaned, looking down at her.

Her gaze locked with his. “You made me this way,” she purred. “You fucked the wife next door so good she became hooked.”

Albert’s bony hands groped her shoulders for leverage, his pace picking up. “Damn right I did.”

“You put a baby in me… and look at me,” Sarah went on, licking the tip whenever it neared her mouth. “Lying here, knocked up again. All because I couldn’t get enough of your big… bull… cock.”

Albert’s thrusts grew more desperate, more erratic, the slap of flesh filling the enclosed closet. 

“Breeding me like a good little whore,” she whispered, her voice thick with lust. “Your baby’s inside me, Albert. Our second. What would my Alex say if he knew?”

Albert gritted his teeth, his body trembling with need.

“I can’t wait for you to leave that useless fuck,” he growled, his hips snapping firmly against her soft, perky boobs. “You belong to me. My babies. My woman.”

Sarah’s eyes rolled back slightly, her hands squeezing her breasts tightly around him. “Then claim me. Cum for me. All over the tits you made swell up with your brat…”

That was all it took. 

Albert grunted, thrusting deep between her tits one last time before pulling back, his cock pulsing hard. The first rope of cum shot up across her throat, streaking her neck and chin. The next landed thick on her cleavage, painting the tops of her breasts with his virile seed. He groaned through clenched teeth, as he pulled back and unloaded the rest onto her boobs, spilling over her soft skin and coating her erect nipples. 

Sarah moaned, her lips parted with satisfaction as she felt his heat. She smeared it with her fingers, slowly licking the tip of one. “Mmm… You always give so much.”

Albert knelt above her, panting, staring down at the mess he made—his cum dripping down the woman he’d made a mother. Twice.

“That was good…” he murmured, voice hoarse as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Hm, I love making a mess of these perfect tits, darlin’.”

Sarah couldn’t help but giggle amusingly, collected the rest of his sticky cum from her skin and licked it up. “You should do it more often, hon.”

-

The closet door creaked open, and a wave of humid, sex-heavy air spilled out into the bathroom. 

Sarah stepped out first, completely naked, her hair was wild and clinging to her damp shoulders, her skin glowing with sweat. Her thighs were slick, boobs flushed and freckled with dry drops of cum. She looked thoroughly used and flushed, grinning with pure satisfaction.

Albert followed behind, unsteady on his feet, his skinny legs wobbly, his breath shallow. His chest heaved in exhausted waves, a rare moment where his age was actually catching up with him. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, still wet, spent, and twitching faintly. His back bore the red reminders of her nails, and his jaw was slack in a dazed, pleased expression. The man looked like he’d just returned from war, and lost.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, smirking as she watched him limp behind her. 

“Jesus, woman,” he muttered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall. “You milked me.…”

She turned around, still nude, and stalked back toward him with a teasing gleam in her eye. Her hand slid between his legs, cupping his drained balls with a playful squeeze. He flinched and groaned on instinct, his knees buckling slightly. 

“Oh, stop it. You loved every second of that,” she whispered huskily, leaning in to kiss his wrinkled cheek. “Such a good fucking bull for me.”

Albert just groaned in response, letting out a heavy sigh. “Pregnant woman… fuckin’ scary.”

She giggled, nuzzling his head under her chin before leaning down and licking the salty taste from his neck. “Scary horny. You brought this on yourself when you knocked me up again, big boy.”

“I regret nothing,” he rasped, his voice proud. “But I might need a wheelchair.”

Sarah laughed, wrapping her arms around him. “We’ll just call it physical therapy. Now come on. Let’s shower before the baby wakes up and smells the filth on us.”

“God, I love you,” Albert mumbled. 

She grinned and kissed him. “Hm, I love you too.”

-

Nearly two months had passed, and everything was slowly, inevitably unraveling. 

From the outside, her husband had always believed their marriage was fine, solid even. He’d tell friends they were the “normal couple,” the type who didn’t fight, who had their routines, their shared goals, a house, a kid. He genuinely thought Sarah was content, that despite the time he always spent at work, they were doing well enough. But that belief was hollow now, crumbling under the weight of everything he’d kept buried. 

Behind the scenes, the investigation into his dealings had taken a dark turn. What began as suspicion of fraud had evolved into something far more damning. Sarah read the reports in disbelief—accounts of lavish, secret sex parties, dirty money changing hands, and a double life she hadn’t even begun to imagine. She didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. Something inside her had already gone cold.

She didn’t have any room to feel betrayed, given what she had done herself. Her affair with Albert had started as something selfish and impulsive, born from neglect, boredom, and the aching need to feel wanted. But over time, it had become more than just lust. More than escape. It had turned into comfort. Into truth. 

Albert was patient for the most part. “You don’t owe him your silence,” he told her one night, rubbing gentle circles on her growing belly. “He had his second life. Why shouldn’t you have your first chance at something real?”

Still, Sarah waited. Not because she had doubts, but because she needed to be smart. She hid her pregnancy under oversized sweaters and flowing dresses. She kept visits short, avoided photos, and deflected questions from her family. There was too much at stake, and if she was going to do this, she had to do it right. 

When she finally filed for divorce, the grounds were unshakable. Her family stood by her, heartbroken but supportive. The in-laws, predictably, lashed out. Angry voicemails, long-winded texts full of judgment and denial. She ignored everyone. 

The final meeting with Alex was set in a quiet, private office, neutral ground. She hadn’t seen him in weeks.

When she entered, he looked up with tired eyes in his orange prison jumpsuit. His expression flickered, not with hate or bitterness, but with something closer to confusion. He looked at her like a man trying to piece together a puzzle that no longer made sense. 

“You’re really doing this?” he asked. 

“I am,” Sarah replied softly, sitting across from him. 

Alex scoffed, sitting back in his metal chair. “You’re unbelievable.”

Sarah didn’t flinch. “I think that word suits you better.”

“Oh, come on,” he snapped, voice rising. “You didn’t even try. You didn’t even ask me anything, didn’t even give me a chance to explain. You just assumed I was guilty.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Assume? Alex, all the evidence is there. I saw it all myself. The pictures… receipts… bank records. A fucking yacht in someone else’s name. You think that’s something I just imagined?”

“I did what I had to do!” he said sharply. “Everything was for us, for Alice.”

“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Sarah snapped back, her voice sharp and full of heat now. “Those lucrative parties were definitely for us, huh? Don’t use Alice to protect yourself. It’s pathetic.”

Alex’s mouth opened like he was going to say something, but all that came out was a breathless sneer. “You’re being dramatic.”

She leaned forward, eyes burning. “You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with since you were dragged out of your office building in handcuffs. The calls, the questions, all the damn lawyers.”

“Oh, please, I gave you everything you could ask for,” he muttered. “I’m sure you loved the attention. Playing the innocent wife, the poor thing who never saw it coming. You’re good at that. Playing roles.”

Sarah froze. He wasn’t exactly wrong. Though her temper rose, her voice became more venomous. “You want to talk about roles, Alex? What about yours?” The hard-working husband who spent his nights fucking escorts and laundering cash while I was at home putting Alice to sleep?”

That shut him up.

“So what…” Alex whispered, running a hand through his hair. “We’re done just like that? You don’t love me anymore?”

“It’s over, Alex,” Sarah replied, catching her breath, her tone resolute. “There’s no coming back from this. I- what we had was good… but now I need to move on. Take care of Alice.”

A flicker of guilt flashed in Alex’s eyes, but he was still caught up in all the heat to say something. They just sat there silently. 

The lawyers arrived shortly after, and they signed the last of the papers. Everything went very smoothly, considering the argument they just had. Sarah got mostly everything: the house, some assets, and full custody. The scratch of the pen was the only sound between them. No more pleading from Alex. No more explanations. Just names on a dotted line, each stroke closing the door a little further.

When it was finished, Sarah looked up at him one final time. Her hand instinctively rested on her belly, protectively and gently. “Goodbye, Alex,” she said softly. 

He didn’t respond. Just watched her, with a lingering gleam of anger and betrayal in his eyes, as she turned and walked out. 

The air outside was crisp and cool, and the sun peeked through the clouds in warm beams. For the first time in months, for the most part, she could breathe. 

She wasn’t entirely innocent on her end, though; everything her husband had done gave her some sense of conscience. Her affair and Alice’s true paternity were still a secret that only she and Albert knew. Even then, her family discovering that she’s pregnant again would eventually break. 

Would she ever tell anyone of her deepest, darkest secret? Perhaps not, but still. She had made her choice; there was no going back now. 

This was it.

A fresh start.

She walked across the parking lot, her boots clicking against the pavement. Albert sat in the driver’s seat of her car, the engine idling. He looked up as she approached, his eyes meeting hers through the windshield. 

She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. 

“It’s done,” Sarah said quietly.

Albert didn’t speak. He just reached over, took her hand in his, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

She looked ahead, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

A new chapter had begun…

To be continued in the epilogue…

Divine Intervention (Sneak Peek)

The wind howled across the barren wastes, dragging ash and grit across the sky like a dying breath. The land below was quiet and desolate. Broken teeth of ruined stone stood from the soil, remnants of a world that had long since collapsed under the weight of its own sins.

And then, from above, she came.

She landed quietly. No sound. No announcement. Just her delicate bare feet pressing into the dirt, and the faint glow around her flickering out as her wings faded, unfolding into nothing like smoke in the wind. Caelira stood still for a moment, taking it all in.

Her golden eyes shone faintly, cutting through the haze. Her silvery white hair was braided and looped along her head, neat and angelic, like it had been done a thousand times before. She wore loose wraps that clung gently to her form, the cloth soft, unbothered by the grit lingering in the air. Thin, delicate chains looped over her arms, her legs, even her feet, swaying quietly with every movement. 

This world had nothing left. She had come anyway. 

She started walking. 

The land was silent, except for the wind dragging itself over rocks and the remnants of stone buildings. No birds. No voices. But someone was here.

A figure moved between the ruins—slow, hunched, digging through rubble with something sharp in his hand. Caelira watched him from a distance. Wiry, almost skeletal, wrapped in torn cloth that barely held together. Skin dark and leathery from too much sun, too much time. His hair was almost gon. Feet bare, toes blackened and split. He muttered to himself as he worked, more beast than man from the looks of it. 

Still, he was alive. Still moving, still trying.

She followed him with a careful step. 

He never turned around, never looked back. But she knew he felt her. The way he slowed, the way he glanced over his shoulders once too often. He didn’t say anything, just grumbling lowly to himself as he trekked on.

He led her deeper into the ruins. Past shattered walls and collapsed roofs until he slipped through a narrow break in a stone building half-buried in the dirt. He ducked low and disappeared inside. 

Caelira waited.

Then followed. 

She stayed still, her eyes peering through a narrow crack in the stone. The inside of what appeared to be his shelter was dim, lit only by a small oil lamp flickering weakly on the floor. It's light spilled over the jagged walls, a bed made of bundled cloth, and piles of scavenged junk spread out around the space: rusted iron, broken wood, lengths of old rope, and bones. Nothing of worth. Nothing clean. 

The man grumbled low in his throat as he dug through a sack near the wall. His voice rasped like old leather torn slowly. He moved with a twitch, sharp edge. His shoulders jerked, bony fingers clawing through his things like a beast rifling through its nest. He pulled out something round, stared at it too long, then let it drop with an annoyed huff.

He didn’t light another candle. Didn’t eat. Just crouched there, half in shadow, mumbling nonsense to himself. There was a feverish rhythm to it, like the words kept him from going insane. 

Caelira watched.

The wind outside pushed gently through the broken gaps in the stone, stirring her cloth wraps and the delicate chains looped around her arms and ankles. But she didn’t move. Not yet. She simply studied him. All his rough movements, his hunched posture. The way his beady eyes darted at every sound, even though there was nothing left here but wind and ghosts. 

He was worn down to the bone. Feral, almost. A man long forgotten by whatever gods this world once prayed to. 

But not by her. 

She married her eyes slightly, the faint glow behind them steady.

This one.

He would be the first she saved... or so she thought.

Important Updates 🚨

Hey guys! Here's everything you need to know so far:

• The Old Neighbor Ch. 07 is nearing completion. It should be ready by sometime this week! I've also decided that there will be one last epilogue chapter to wrap things up nicely for Sarah and Albert.

• Second, I've recently been on a dry spell for new, original stories, so planning on writing a couple of smutty tales for you guys!

• Top Brass will be worked on in the background when I get the chance.

Planned Stories:

• Divine Intervention: An angel visits a desolate, bleak land and tries to redeem a wiry old man from his sinful ways. Things don't go as planned...

• Title not determined yet: Looking to experiment with my first cuck story. It won't be super fleshed out. There will be some voyeur stuff. Definitely might lean into the dark side like most of my cheating stories.

  But here's a brief description of what I have in mind:

  A husband has virtually no libido. After trying many things with his wife, he just can't seem to get into it. He knows she is strained and frustrated. He decides that she can get a boyfriend.

Tempting the Unknown Ch. 02

Author's Note: Here's the second part of my remastered iteration of my story!

Almost a week passed, and what had started as a one-time slip became something close to routine. Ayla stopped thinking twice about sending nudes to Ken. The rule she’d set for herself—no full nudes—had been broken, bent, and discarded without much ceremony. Now, when Ken messaged her late at night asking for something sexy, she didn’t hesitate. She just undressed, posed, and gave him what he wanted. And of course, he always tipped. 

She had a secret file in her camera roll filled with soft, sultry mirror shows. Videos of her spreading herself open, fingering slowly, and deep. Closer angles. Wetter sounds. More of her mouth in frame, bitten lips, and flushed cheeks. Although she kept her posts teasing, cute, and alluring on her main page, she now had special content tailored for one man, and he paid well to keep it that way. 

It became their thing. She’d climb into bed in nothing but a loose tank top or panties, already knowing the kind of message she’d get. He’d ask what she was wearing. Demand proof. Say he needed a photo to get through the night. She’d tease, play coy for a minute, then cave the second he told her how hard he was for her or the second he tipped. Fifty bucks, or a lewd image of his erect, throbbing cock. In a way, his nudes were a tip within themselves; she didn’t mind. 

Their sexts weren’t shy. Ken described what he’d do to her in filthy detail. He told her how horny he was, how he wished he could pull her onto his lap, make her moan into his mouth. Ayla soaked it all in. She responded with her own messages, half-sarcastic, half-serious, written in a haze of arousal. Things often left her spent, her body moist with sweat, and her fingers aching with exertion. But always, she slept like a baby afterwards. 

It turned her on knowing someone out there was desperate for her. That obsessed. That generous. She used to think of her followers as thirsty strangers. Now, she had a personal one. A real, filthy admirer. And she liked it. Maybe a little too much.

Even when she told herself to pull back, something about Ken’s attention kept dragging her deeper. His praise, his tips, his raw need. It made her feel wanted. It also didn’t help that she’d been single and hadn’t gotten laid in a little while. Perhaps that’s why she felt so inclined to give him what he wanted night after night. 

-

Steam clung to the bathroom mirror as Ayla stepped out of the shower, towel tucked around her chest, damp, matted black hair clinging down her back and around her face. She casually hummed a tune from her favorite song to herself as she grabbed her phone from the counter, glancing at the screen, expecting the usual notifications.

One new message. 

Ken. 

“What are you doing right now, my gorgeous?”

A smirk tugged at her lips as she typed back. 

“Just got out of the shower. About to get ready for my next post.”

The reply came moments later.

“Shit… wish I could see that. Still dripping wet?”

Ayla rolled her hazel eyes, biting back a smile. Of course.

She eyed herself in the foggy mirror. She was glistening, towel snug around her curves, collarbone still beaded with droplets. She looked good, as always. And Ken’s words had a way of making her feel hotter.

“You greedy bastard,” she replied, snapping a quick mirror pic from the waist up—towel on, cleavage tastefully peeking, one hand in her damp hair while teasingly biting her bottom lip. 

“This’ll have to do.”

But she already knew it wouldn’t.

Ken responded right away. 

“Goddamn… you’re teasing me. C’mon, lose the towel. Let me see that pretty body while it’s still wet 😏.”

Ayla stared at the message for a long moment, heart racing, her thighs clenching. 

She exhaled slowly, her eyes narrowing, lips pursing as she reread Ken’s message. The bathroom was still warm and heavy with steam, the air wrapping around her like a second towel. Her hand slid to the knot at her chest. She hesitated for a second, then tugged it loose. 

The towel fell onto the floor around her feet. 

She stood there, bare and wet, watching her reflection. Her nipples were hard, water still trailing down the curve of her breasts and hips. She brushed her hair back, cheeks blushed, and her thighs pressed together without thinking.

Ayla raised her phone, angling it so it covered her face. The focus was all on her body: the smooth curve of her hips, the soft swell of her breasts, the shaved mound of her pussy. Her other hand cupped one of her tits, giving a playful, suggestive squeeze. 

Click.

She checked the photo once, her body fully on display, flawless, soft, provocative, alluring. 

She quickly attached a message:

“Exactly how you like it, right? Clean, wet, and waiting 💋.”

And hit send. Her stomach fluttered as she stared at the screen, a small, excited smile curving at her lips. She could already picture his reaction.

Later that night, Ayla lay sprawled across her sheets, skin slick with sweat, legs still slightly trembling from the orgasm that had just wrecked her. Her chest heaved in shallow pants, nipples still sensitive. Her fingers twitched beside her, slick with her own release—a deep aching throb lingering between her legs. 

Her phone rested near her pillow, its glow faintly cutting through the darkness. The screen was still open to her chat with him, message after message stacked high. There were photos, videos, and voice notes. Dick pics mostly. But not just that. Videos of him stroking himself, slow and heavy, his voice rough and gravelly as he moaned her name. She could still hear it now, still fresh in her mind from the most recent clip.

It turned her on more than she liked to admit, the sound of this mysterious, likely older man hungry for her like a starved animal.

Lately, though, things had shifted.

Ken:

“You ever wonder what it’d be like if I were actually there with you?”

“My hands on your hips, mouth on your neck… cock deep inside your pussy. I know you think about it.” 

“Come on. Why don’t we make this for real? Let’s link up. Just once.”

Ayla just sat there, leaving the last one unanswered. 

She took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her damp forehead. Her pulse hadn’t changed since their recent lewd exchange. Her heart pounded, but not just from arousal. There was a gnawing anxiety crawling up her spine now.

Ken had started pushing this idea more and more lately. Meeting up. Saying it was inevitable. That a connection like this couldn’t stay online forever.

But Ayla wasn’t sure.

She barely knew who he really was. All she had were dick pics and videos, grainy shots of his lean body, and that husky, older voice made her thighs clench. Every time she asked about his real name, what he looked like, even what type of work he did to afford blowing all that money on her, he’d dodge.

It was like chasing smoke.

But some part of her liked it—the thrill of the unknown. Liked the way he talked to her. Liked how filthy and obsessed he sounded. Liked the feeling of pure desire tangled in their nocturnal exchanges. 

But to meet? 

That meant stepping out of the comfort of their distant, erotic game. That meant turning fantasy into reality.

Ayla nibbled on her lip; her gaze fixed on the screen. She had no idea what to expect if she went further down this path. Her body was filled with anxiousness and arousal; her mind was spinning from the weight of his carnal want.

All she knew of him was that cock… His big, throbbing, thick cock… His words painted a picture she’d come to crave, but still, he was a ghost, a stranger behind a screen. 

He could live in the next city. Or halfway across the country. She had no idea. 

And yet… something in her believed him. Or maybe just wanted to. 

She knew he could make good on every dirty promise he’d made. She’d felt it in every moan, every word that made her pussy soaking wet. 

Her phone buzzed again.

“Come on, all you have to say is yes, Ayla. I’ll do all the heavy lifting. You don’t have to do a thing.”

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, her pulse pounding in her throat as she contemplated his offer.

He prodded her with another message. 

“Come on, baby. You know you want this 😏.”

“When’s the last time you had a proper fuck?”

Ayla blinked, her chest tightening, her ears burning.  She hesitated, but her thumbs moved before her brain caught up.

“Bold of you to assume I’m not getting any.”

His reply came instantly.

“Oh, I know you’re not.”

“Not with the way you beg for me.”

She sucked a sharp breath, her cheeks growing a deep red as she bashfully pursed her lips into a line. Her mouth fell open, trying to figure out how to snap back, but she failed to do so. Because he was right, god, he was right. 

“Don’t get cocky. You know nothing… dummy.”

“You practically cum from just my voice. Don’t lie.”

Ayla clenched her loins, breath shaky.

“Well… maybe I’m just good at faking it.”

“Then come test my theory.”

He added a smirking emoji, then followed with:

“You want a proper fuck, Ayla. I can give you that. I will give you that. You need this. I know you crave the things I said I’d do to you. You want this big cock inside you, hm? Want me to claim that pussy? I’ll treat you so fucking good, baby. Just give me a shot. I promise I won’t disappoint.”

Her thumbs shook, her cursor blinking back at her like it knew what she really wanted to say.

She bit down on her lip, her breathing shallow as she read his message again… and again. The way he said her name. The way he talked like he already owned her, like her body was just waiting to be claimed. 

Her legs shifted, thighs rubbing together. She was already soaked again.

She started typing.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

Deleted.

“You don’t even know me.”

Deleted. 

Her chest heaved with each inhale, heat rising up her neck. 

She tried again. 

“You talk a lot of game. What if you can’t back it up?” 

Sent.

A minute passed. Then another. She almost convinced herself he wouldn’t respond until three dots appeared.

“I can back it up. And I will. I thought all those videos I sent would convince you otherwise. But perhaps I’ll just have to show you myself. You won’t even have to lift a finger, sweetheart. I’ll come to you. Give you the dick appointment you deserve.”

Another message followed, faster this time.

“You don’t need to decide anything tonight. Just think about it. I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is say… yes.”

Ayla stared at her phone. Her body was buzzing with anxiousness and thrill, her head feeling light from how fast things were moving. She didn’t even know his real identity, what he looked like beyond the videos and dick pics, and yet, somehow, it didn’t feel like enough of a reason to say no.

She nervously fidgeted, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly, her mind racing. Her body ached for something real. It had been months since she’d had sex. She’d been so focused on her social media page. But now, he tempted her with what she desired, needed.

“I-I don’t know…”

“I’ll make you feel safe. I promise.”

“And I’ll make you feel good. You deserve that, Ayla.”

The words sank deep, stirring something low in her belly. Part of her still screamed wait, be smart, you don’t know a thing about this man.

But the other part of her, the part that had spent countless nights soaking her sheets with the sound of his voice and the image of his cock, was louder now. 

Ayla lay still, her teeth sinking into her pillow. Her pulse thumped in her ears. After everything they’d done, everything they’d said to each other, things were crossing into the boundary of reality.

She typed slowly, still feeling her way around this tempting proposition. 

“You’re not some psycho, right? Not gonna kidnap me or… do something fucked up?”

The typing bubble appeared right away. She held her breath.

“No games, Ayla. I swear. No bullshit. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I just want you. The way you’ve teased me, the way you’ve begged without even realizing it… I want to give you what you need.”

Another message quickly followed before she could respond.

“I’m not a monster. Unless you want me to be 😈.”

Her hazel eyes widened with pure lustful desire. It was exactly the kind of cocky, dirty thing he would say—but there was warmth behind it. Like he meant what he said, even underneath the vulgarity. 

She blinked at the screen, her thighs subconsciously rubbing together as she took a deep breath and typed back.

“You better not be lying.”

“I’m not,” he replied. “You’ll see.”

-

A couple of days passed before they ironed out the details. 

It was late, Ayla was in her bathroom doing her nightly facial routine, her hair damp and her skin wet from her recent shower, while her phone lay beside her on the sink. She was on the phone with Ken, making the final arrangements for their clandestine meeting. 

“So,” he said, his gravelly, mature voice coming from the speaker. “You still up for this?”

She paused only for a second. “Yeah. I mean… I thought we agreed on that a couple of nights ago.”

“Good,” he said, a low chuckle curling behind his voice. “Because I’ve already cleared my weekend. I was thinking about Friday afternoon. If I head out early, I could be there by two or three.”

“That fast?” Ayla asked, clutching the edge of her sink, her bare feet shifting against the soft bathroom rug. She looked at her phone, stomach churning. “I haven’t even told you where I live yet.”

“I don’t like to wait, baby,” Ken replied, a smirk audible in his voice. “But you’re right. Let’s fix that. Send me your address.”

She scooped up her phone, thumbs sweeping over the keyboard as she typed. Her address glowed in the message box. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought this through; she had, over and over, in the shower, lying in bed, even mid-conversation with Ken while pretending to stay casual. But now that this would become real, all it would take was one tap…

She took a moment to think, her free hand idly cupping her face, her fingers squeezing her flushed cheeks. 

This was it. Once she sent it, there was no undoing it. No pretending this was some dirty game with a faceless stranger. He’d be coming. For her.

Her heart pounded. She hit send.

A few seconds ticked by before the “delivered” status turned to “read.”

Ken’s voice came through again, that signature cocky tone practically oozing from the speaker. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t expect you to be so close. Four hours' drive tops if traffic is light. That’s nothing.”

Ayla sat at the edge of her bed in her towel, skin still warm and dewy from the shower. Her silky black hair was wrapped up. She held the phone back against her ear, her heart skipping slightly. It was happening. He was actually going to come.

“Oh, well, that’s rather… convenient,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness and excitement as she spoke. 

“Yup, it’s perfect, almost like it was meant to be, sweetheart,” he responded amusingly. 

Ayla sighed and rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You okay driving that far?”

“Four hours is nothing if I get to end up balls-deep in a girl like you,” Ken replied with a low cackle. 

“I’m not just okay with it, I want it. I’m already halfway packed. You’ve had me on edge for weeks now with those pics and videos. I’m done waiting, I need the real thing.”

Ayla stood, pacing slowly across her room, her towel clutched tightly around her chest. “I never said you could jump me the moment you walk in.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, his voice dropping again, thicker, filthier. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to let me. I’ve seen the way you’ve opened up to me, baby. I’ve heard how breathless you get when I talk. You’re ready. You want this just as badly as I do.”

“I’m half tempted to drive over right now,” he continued. “I’ll be so good to you, Ayla. I’ll give you what you deserve, and I’ll claim what I earned.”

Her thighs pressed tightly together slightly. She sat down again and exhaled slowly, staring blankly at her closet door. Her voice came out soft and wary. “Again, just to be sure… you’re not some psycho creep, right? You’re not going to show up and… like, kill me or chain me to a radiator or something?”

Kent laughed a deep, amused sound from his throat. “Baby, I’m not a psycho. You can trust me. I’m just a man who wants to make good on everything he’s promised. You can trust me.”

She snorted, despite herself, biting down on her lip.

“Mhm, right… You want me to trust you when you refuse to show me what you look like,” Ayla mumbled under her breath. 

Ken’s voice stayed smooth, but there was a sly undertone when he answered, “You have seen what I look like. Just… not my face.”

Ayla rolled her eyes again but didn’t say anything right away. She adjusted the towel over her chest, shifting on the edge of her bed as she crossed her legs. He wasn’t wrong.

“I think you’ll like what you see when we finally meet,” he continued confidently. “But I think I’ll keep it a surprise.”

Ayla scoffed, bouncing her foot in the air as she leaned against her free hand. “You’re such a bastard. You better be hot.”

“Hmm, but I’m your bastard now, aren’t I?” he replied, unbothered. 

An audible, exacerbated sigh escaped her lips as she uncrossed her legs and fell back against her mattress. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you come.”

“I’m lucky, huh?” he murmured. “Can’t wait to show you just how grateful I am… every inch of me.”

Her pussy quivered as wetness slicked her loins. “Cocky prick.”

Ken laughed again, low and pleased. “I know you’re eager, baby. Just a few more days.”

-

Friday.

Ayla paced through her spotless apartment barefoot, her body dressed in nothing more than a loose, faded tank top with no bra and soft cotton shorts that rode up high with every movement. She kept tugging them down, only for them to slide right back up, especially over her hips. But she didn’t change. She liked the way she looked in them. And honestly, she wanted to feel a little exposed today just for the occasion.

Her skin was still warm from her recent shower, fresh and smooth, with a hint of sweet scented lotion clinging to her. Her long black hair was twisted messily with a clip, a few damp strands falling over her cheek as she moved around the space, straightening already straightened things. 

She was nervous. And horny. And pissed that Ken had made her wait all week like this.

No sexting. No pictures. Not even any real flirting. His only messages had been clinical and restrained. He said that he wanted it to be unbearable when they finally met, and he wanted her to be squirming and needy for him. She’d called him an asshole of course. A smug, manipulative pervert. 

But… he was right. It worked. Worked way too well. 

She glanced at her phone again. No new messages. The last text he sent was a while ago, early in the morning, informing her that he’s leaving his place. 

Ayla sighed and walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of cold water. She sipped, then looked down at her chest—her nipples poked against the thin fabric of her tank top, clearly visible in the light. She rolled her eyes at herself and smirked. 

Everything was ready. She’d cleaned obsessively. She scrubbed every inch of her shower. Made sure her sheets were fresh for the inevitable mess they were going to make. Even stocked her fridge a bit, assuming he’d stay a couple of days. Though she wasn’t sure yet, since he was still a complete stranger.

She had her nails done the day before. White, neat, and pretty. Her pussy was shaved smooth. Just soft, bare skin. Ken was a real stickler about that. And he made it very clear that they weren’t using any protection. Raw or nothing. That alone had made her thighs tense every time she thought about it. 

Ayla made sure to follow her birth control routine. She most certainly would not want to get knocked up by a man she hardly knew outside the internet. 

She tugged her shorts down again out of habit and walked over to the window. The streets below were quiet, too quiet. Was he almost here? She imagined him—lean, older, confident, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other between his legs, hard, thinking of her. About all the things he’d do to her the second she let him into her home.

Her legs pressed tightly together, and she breathed out slowly.

“Goddamn you, Ken,” she muttered. 

She walked back to her phone and checked the time. 12:11 PM

Ayla plopped down on the couch, one leg under her. Her tank top shifted, exposing more skin. She didn’t bother fixing it. Instead, she just stared at the ceiling and tried to calm her thoughts. 

Then, the sudden sharp buzz of her phone snapped Ayla upright. 

Her heart jumped. 

Ken. 

She snatched the phone up with embarrassingly little hesitation, thumb smacking the green icon before she even registered the movement. It was like her body had acted on instinct. 

“Hello?”

“Damn,” came Ken’s deep, amused voice through the speaker. “Didn’t even let it ring twice. You that excited to hear from me, baby?”

Ayla’s cheeks flared a deep red. She stood up from the couch too quickly and paced toward the kitchen, switching the phone between her hands as she tried to sound casual.

“I was just… near my phone,” she mumbled. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ken chuckled low. “Sure. So, where’s my welcome party, huh?”

She chewed her lip, glancing at the time on the stove. Her pulse quickened.

“Wait. You’re here? Where are you?”

“Woah, calm down, Ayla. I’m almost there,” he said. “Maybe twenty minutes, tops. You ready for me, sweetheart?”

Ayla’s stomach flipped. She leaned against the counter, biting harder on her lip as she stared out the window. 

“No,” she replied softly. “Yes. I mean—fuck. Don’t say it like that, please.”

Ken laughed again. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m going to see for myself real soon, heh.”

The minutes dragged like hours. 

Ayla paced her apartment restlessly, arms folded tightly over her chest, anxiously nibbling on her finger. She kept tugging at her clothes, tugging at her hair, tugging at her nerves.

She was really doing this.

She glanced at the mirror near her door, checking herself again for the twentieth time. Everything was clean, candles lit, subtle music playing in the background to give the illusion that she wasn’t completely losing her mind.

The thought hit her hard. She could still back out.

She could just text him something vague, say she wasn’t feeling well. Or just call the whole thing off. He was a stranger after all. She didn’t owe him anything. But then…

Knock knock.

She froze. 

Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly tiptoed toward the door. She peered through the peephole, and—

There he was.

Just like that. Real.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her stomach fluttered, thighs tensed, and heat bloomed between her legs without warning. She opened the door. 

Ken stood casually, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, just as confident as she’d imagined. Definitely older, late forties maybe, with peppered stubble on his strong jaw and sun-kissed skin. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, styled back lazily like he hadn’t even tried. He wore a fitted navy polo that hinted at his lean frame, khaki shorts, and flip flops that somehow didn’t kill the mood like they should’ve. His sunglasses hung from the collar of his shirt, and his smirk was unmistakable.

Ayla’s pretty hazel eyes widened. He’s a total dilf!

“Hey,” he said, voice low and rough, his dark eyes roaming up and down her body with no shame at all.

She was speechless. She just stared, openly.

“Uh, wow…” she finally managed, her breath hitching. “You’re… you’re actually here.”

“And you’re even hotter in person,” Ken replied, grinning. “Damn, baby.”

Ayla didn’t know what to say. She blinked, pulse racing, mouth dry. All those weeks, all that teasing and sexting, and now he was standing in her doorway, so real it made her legs tremble.

Ken cocked his head and smiled. “Gonna let me in, sweetheart?”

She quickly nodded and stepped aside, letting him in with an awkward motion that almost looked like a curtsy. Her heart raced as she closed the door behind them, sealing them in together. No going back now.

Ken’s eyes wandered casually over the space—the tidy living room, the soft lighting, the faint scent of candles and vanilla in the air. “Hm, nice place,” he said, his voice gravelly and smooth.

“Thanks,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she hovered awkwardly by the door. Her body buzzed from seeing him. It felt so strange and surreal. She glanced at the bag slung over his shoulder. “Um, here, I can take that—your bag. If you want. And… do you want some water?” 

Ken turned to her slowly, his smirk easy and amused. “Nervous?”

Ayla let out a dramatic sigh, one hand on her hip. “Obviously.”

He chuckled. “I like that. Means you care.”

She rolled her eyes, cheeks warm. “Just… sit, okay? I’ll get your water.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, trying to ignore how self-conscious she felt with every step. She grabbed a bottle from the fridge and returned, handing it to him. Their fingers brushed, and the way he looked at her made her throat tighten.

“So,” she said, sitting on the arm of the couch. “How was the trip? Long drive?”

“Not bad,” he replied, twisting the cap and taking a long sip. “Traffic was light, music kept me entertained. Kept me thinking about you the whole time, so it went by quick.”

She laughed lightly, crossing her arms over her chest, trying not to visibly shiver at how his gaze lingered on her legs. “Yeah, I bet.”

There was a pause. Then she looked at him sideways. “Is… Ken, even your real name?”

Ken smirked again, his eyes glinting as she leaned back against the couch. “It is. First name, at least. You’ll have to earn the rest.”

She raised a brow at that. “Oh? And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

He gave a low chuckle, his voice thick with suggestion. “Hmm, I think you know how, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes again, but her stomach fluttered. This was actually happening.

The air between them crackled, heavy with the weight of everything they hadn’t said yet. All the dirty texts, the late-night calls, the lewd pictures, the teasing. Now it was real. Ayla stood barely a foot from him, arms crossed loosely under her chest, her cotton shorts tugged high over her thighs, her tank top loose but thin enough to leave nothing to the imagination. 

Ken let his eyes drag over her slowly, unabashed. “So…” he began, voice low, “do you like what you see?” He cocked his head slightly. “Is it what you expected?”

Ayla swallowed hard. Her hazel eyes briefly danced over his broad chest, his lean frame, the rough, mature edge to his face. The age showed, but not in a bad way. She bit her lip and gave a small nod. “Yeah,” she answered softly. “More or less… you’re… handsome for an older guy.”

Ken grinned, the kind of grin that said he already knew her answer. “Good,” he said, getting up from the couch and stepping closer until she could feel the warmth of his body against hers. “Then maybe we should stop pretending like we’re here for small talk.”

Her cheeks flushed. She felt hot all over. He was right. The anticipation was unbearable. Now it was time to see if the reality matched the fantasy.

Ayla looked up at him, then reached for his hand, lacing their fingers. “Come on,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s… not waste any more time.”

Ken didn’t need to be asked twice. His grip tightened slightly as she led him down the short hallway to her bedroom. Her heart pounded louder with every step, but she didn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything that had transpired between them online. 

She stepped into her room with Ken close behind, her bare feet silent against the hardwood. She reached back without turning, clicked the lock shut, and let her hand fall from the doorknob as she leaned back against it, her chest rising and falling as she looked at the handsome, older man before her.

Ken’s eyes explored slowly across the space—her bed, her mirror, the soft light, the familiar scatter of personal belongings. A slow smirk tugged at his mouth.

“Looks just like it does online,” he muttered, low and amused.

Ayla blushed deeply. Her arms crossed loosely beneath her chest as she shifted her weight, suddenly feeling far more exposed than she had all those nights sending him pics from this very place.

She swallowed, voice quieter now. “So… how do you want to start? Fast? Slow?”

Ken didn’t answer with words.

He stepped forward without hesitation and grabbed her hips, pulling her against him in one swift motion. Ayla gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his chest for balance, her heart skipping as she felt the heat of his body, the stiff press of his cock through his shorts grinding against her belly.

His eyes locked onto hers—dark, deliberate, and full of desire.

Then he kissed her.

Hard.

Their lips crashed together in a kiss that erased hesitation. No awkward lead-in. No fumbling. Just raw, wet, open-mouthed need. Ayla whimpered softly as his tongue slid into her mouth, claiming hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, slender fingers curling into his hair, pulling him closer as their lips pressed tight and her back stayed pinned to the door. 

The kiss deepened, turned sloppier, louder. Tongues tangled. Their breathing became sharp and uneven as their bodies moved in sync. Ken’s hands gripped her hips harder, tugging her against him, and Ayla moaned into his mouth at the friction. 

Their lips broke with a wet, heated gasp, parting slowly as thick strands of saliva connected between them. Ayla’s breath was heavy as she stared up at him, her lush lips red and slick, her eyes dazed with lust.

Ken still said nothing. He dipped low and began to kiss her neck. It was hungry and open-mouthed, moving down from her jaw to the soft spot below her ear. He sucked gently, then bit, and she moaned aloud, tilting her head to the side for better access.

His rough hands slid down her back, strong and firm, gripping her ass through her thin shorts and squeezing hard, possessive. Then, in one quick, effortless motion, he lifted her off the floor. 

Ayla gasped as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her arms looped tight around his neck. She giggled only for the laugh to dissolve into another soft moan as he carried her across the room. 

He tossed her onto the bed, and she landed with a rough, playful thud.

Her back hit the mattress, and she bounced once, hair spilling around her shoulders as she looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes. Her legs fell apart naturally, her soft thighs parted slightly by the landing. Ken stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at her like a man on the verge of claiming his prize.

“Hurry up and lose the clothes,” she panted, her voice light and demanding.

He was already pulling at his shirt, yanking it over his head in one smooth motion, revealing his toned body. Ayla sat up on her elbows, already peeling her tank top over her body. It slid up and off, exposing her breasts, round, flushed, nipples already stiff with arousal. Ken’s eyes dragged over her with a growl caught in his throat.

“Fuck… so perfect…”

Her shorts were the next to go, hastily tugged down her legs and flung about onto the floor. She was in nothing but her soaked, black thong panties now, barely covering the slick heat between her thighs. 

Ken shoved his shorts down, boxers with them, and Ayla’s gaze dropped immediately, his cock standing thick and hard, throbbing and dripping, just like she remembered from his pics and videos… only bigger. Real.

She bit her bottom lip, thighs needily rubbing together as she stared.

He smiled down at her with a look that sent a shiver straight down to her core. Without a word, he reached down to her legs and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her soaked panties.

“Let’s get these off,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with hunger.

He slid them down slowly, watching the damp fabric peel from her skin. Her slickness clung to the cotton, glistening in the low light. Once the panties were past her ankles, he tossed them aside and looked down between her legs. He fixated on the soft, bare folds of her freshly shaved pussy, swollen and dripping with arousal.

“Fuck…” he whispered licking his lips. “Even better in person.”

He then lowered himself to his knees onto the carpeted floor. Ayla was sprawled on the edge, her hips tilted toward him, legs parted in a soft invitation. Ken settled between her thighs, gripping the backs of her knees and pulling her gently closer, until she was right at the edge of the mattress. 

He kissed her inner thighs first, slow and teasing, before finally leaning in and dragging his tongue through her pussy in one long, wet stroke. Ayla cried out, her head falling back against her hands, clutching the sheets as her hips lifted upward toward his mouth. 

Ken groaned, the taste of her sweet nectar making his cock twitch. His hands slid under her thighs as he mounted them onto his shoulders, locking her open for him. He leaned in again, burying his face between her legs with a deep, starved exhale.

His tongue moved with purpose, making slow circles around her clit, then flicks, then firm, broad licks upward from her entrance. He sucked softly on her swollen bud, then dipped lower, teasing her soaked opening with slow, deliberate strokes. Ayla moaned louder, her hips rocking against his mouth, her breath shaky and desperate.

“Fuck—oh god,” she gasped, her fingers gripping the edge of the mattress now, knuckles white. “Ouuhhhh, Ken!”

He didn’t stop. If anything, he only got more focused. He licked her deeper, slower, then faster. He read every sound she made, adjusting with every twitch of her thighs. His tongue circled, teased, then sank deep, his deep, guttural groans making her legs shake.

Ayla writhed on the bed, sweat prickling across her chest, her body trembling as she teetered closer to the edge. 

Ken stayed on his knees, steady, devoted, his mouth working her over and over like it was all he’d come for.

Ayla let out a long, sultry moan, the sound catching in her throat as Ken’s tongue slid over her again and again. Her thighs quivered around his head, and her back arched slightly off the bed, her breath hitching as the pressure inside her built to its peak.

“O-oh my god,” she gasped, her voice breathy and needy. “Y-you’re so fucking good…”

Her fingers slid into his hair. She clutched him gently at first, then tighter as her pleasure buzzed through her body. Her white painted nails grazed his scalp, her touch desperate, reverent, as if she were trying to ground herself in the moment as she spiraled out of control.

Ken groaned into her, sucking her clit between his lips and rolling his tongue across it in slow, sensual pulses that sent shocks straight through her core. Her body jerked, and her breath came in short, shaky bursts.

“Ah ah ah… ouuhh… keep going… right there… Nhg… ohhhh.”

Her eyes fluttered, then rolled back, her mouth falling agape in a soundless moan as her orgasm tore through her. Her thighs clenched around his head, her fingers fisting his hair, her whole body tensing and quivering as she came against his mouth. 

“Ken—fuck!” she cried, her voice breaking as she became undone.

He didn’t stop. He kept licking, riding out every twitch, every pulse, cries softened into whimpers. He eagerly slurped up her gushing sweet cream as she quivered against his lips. Once her grip finally loosened in his hair and her breath steadied, only then did he slowly pull back, mouth slathered, eyes dark with satisfaction as he looked up at her flushed, shaking body.

Ayla lay there, panting, hair clinging to her face, legs still parted and shuddering. She looked down at him with half-lidded, dazed eyes, a helpless smile tugging at her lips.

He licked his lips again, savoring the taste of her. 

Ken rose from his knees with a satisfied grin, his lips slick with her arousal, eyes heavy with carnal desire, as he climbed onto the bed. Ayla was still panting, her body glowing with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

He leaned over her, voice low and husky near her ear. “You taste so fucking delicious, Ayla.”

Ayla shivered.

He took her by the hips and gently pulled her toward the center of the bed, sliding her across the sheets with ease. Her legs opened for him naturally, her skin still sensitive, her pussy glistening. She propped herself up slightly on her elbows, watching him between her parted thighs, dazed but aching.

Ken knelt between her legs and took his cock in hand, thick and dripping with precum. He pressed his tip against her folds and began to rub slowly and teasingly, dragging himself along her wet slit, up and down, letting the head nudge her clit, then slide lower to her soaked entrance before pulling back up again. 

Ayla gasped, her eyes fluttering, her thighs twitching at the hot contact. She bit down on her finger, eyes locked on his cock teasing her pussy, so close but not in. 

Ken grinned at the sight of her so needy and horny for him. He rubbed against her again, dipping his head just deep enough to give her a taste but not enough to give her what she craved.

“Ken…” she moaned, voice tight. “Stop teasing…”

She looked up at him, eyes glassy, soft lips parted. “Please. Give it to me… I need you inside me.”

Ken’s breath caught, his cock twitching in his grip. He groaned under his breath, lining himself up. “Alright… I’ll give you what you want, baby…”

He gripped his base and guided himself to her awaiting slit. Ayla held her breath, her thighs parting wider. Without a word, he pressed forward. 

His thick cockhead pushed past her folds, and then, he slid in.

Ayla’s mouth fell open as a long, breathless moan spilled from her lips. Her hazel eyes fluttering shut, her back arching slightly off the bed. The stretch was deep, sudden, overwhelming. He filled her slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried inside her, completely. 

They both shuddered. 

It was more than just physical. It was the culmination of every filthy word, every late-night tease, every whispered promise through a screen. Now they were finally skin to skin, no barriers, no pretending.

Ken bottomed out inside her, his hip flush against hers, his cock pulsing inside her tight, slick walls. He groaned, his eyes locked on her pretty face, drinking in every twitch of her mouth, every tremble in her thighs. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, both breathing heavily, sweat beginning to bead at their temples. 

“You’re so deep,” Ayla whispered, her voice shaky with awe and need.

Ken exhaled hard, barely able to think. “You’re so tight…”

Another brief silence hung between them before he leaned down, his body heavy against hers, and captured her lips in a slow, searing kiss. Their tongues met again, this time less frantically. His hips began to move, slow and deliberate, sliding back just enough before sinking into her again with a deep grind that made her moan into his mouth.  

Her hands ran over his back, clutching his shoulders as he began to move in a slow rhythm, long deep thrusts that let him feel every inch, every stroke, every second they’d waited for this. 

The room was filled with the sounds of wet, rhythmic bodies moving in perfect sync, smacking lips, breathy moans, and the soft creak of the bed beneath them. Every kiss was open-mouthed, messy, and desperate. Ken’s tongue tangled with hers, swallowing her gasps as he fucked her with steady, deep strokes, each one landing hard and slow, pressing against her cervix until she cried out. 

Ayla’s toes curled, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Her back arched into him, every nerve in her body alive with heat. His cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, thick and perfect, pushing her higher with every thrust. 

“Ah… Mnnh—fuck,” she moaned against his mouth, her voice breaking, her fingers gripping his arms. Her whole body rocked against his, her pussy clenching around his veiny shaft. 

He was already better than anyone she’d ever been with. Every stroke knew exactly where to go, how deep to hit, how to make her whimper and melt beneath him.

Ken pulled back just enough to look at her, his weathered, handsome face flushed, jaw clenching as his pace quickened. His hips began to piston into her faster, but still going deep. His cock slammed into her with wet, heavy thrusts, the squelching of their conjoined sexes filled the room.

Her moans pitched higher as her hands flew to the sheets, gripping tight. She was unraveling, loving every second of being utterly filled and taken. 

Ken suddenly pulled back, his cock sliding out just enough to make Ayla whimper from the emptiness. He shifted, kneeling upright between her spread thighs, gripping her hips tightly, fingers digging into her soft flesh, and slammed back into her with a force that made her whole body jolt.

“OH! FUCK!”

Ayla cried out as he began to fuck her hard from above, his toned abs tensing, legs flexing with every deep, merciless thrust. Her boobs bounced with the rhythm, her dark hair splayed wildly across the pillows, sweat gleaming on her flushed skin. 

“You like that?” Ken grunted, his voice low and rough. “This is what you’ve been aching for, baby? Huh? All those late nights thinking about my cock… Now you’re fucking taking it like the good girl you are.”

Ayla writhed beneath him, moaning helplessly, her hands instinctively reaching out for his moist, hairy forearms as he pounded her without mercy. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room, mixing with their ragged breaths and the desperate, filthy sounds of her wet pussy being fucked raw.

“Y-yes—fuck, Ken! Don’t stop!” she cried, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes from the mind-melting pleasure. 

He leaned forward, grabbed one of her legs, and hoisted it up over his shoulder, angling her open just a bit more, his cock hitting places she never knew she had, shattering her instantly. 

“O-OHHHHH! Holy shit! Mhhnnnhhh! KEN!”

Her back lifted violently off the bed, her toes curled, her mouth open in a strangled scream. Her second orgasm crashed through her like lightning, her pussy spasming around his big cock, milking him as her moans broke into sobs of pleasure. 

Ken grunted, deep and guttural, feeling her clench hard around him. Sweat dripping from his jaw, his body slick, the air around them thick and humid with heat, sex, and passion.

“Augh… fucking hell, Ayla. You’re trying to suck the life from me.”

He growled through clenched teeth, strained by the way she clung to him, the way her pussy squeezed and pulsed around his cock. He couldn’t take it, he needed more.

With a sudden surge, he shifted beneath her, gripping her tightly and rolling them over in one swift, fluid motion. Ayla squeaked as her back left the bed, then landing on top of him, legs straddling his hips, his cock still buried deep inside her.

She didn’t hesitate. 

With her hair clinging to her damp face, her body slick with sweat, Ayla sat up and began to ride him without needing a word. Her ankles pressed to the outside of his thighs as she grounded herself, planting her soft, moist hands against his toned chest for leverage. 

She rocked her hips, rolling them in slow, deep circles at first, moaning softly each time he hit that perfect spot inside her. Ken groaned beneath her, his hands roaming greedily, sliding over her plush ass, gripping it, then trailing up to squeeze her tits as they bounced in time with her movements.

“Fuck… look at you,” he panted, one hand squishing her soft breast, thumb grazing over her erect nipple. “So goddamn sexy riding my cock. Just how I imagined you would.”

Ayla moaned louder, her white nails digging slightly into his sun-kissed skin. Her thighs were shaking, soaked and slick, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Every movement made her more desperate, more unhinged, her eyes wild with pleasure.

Then, with a low growl, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her forward. 

She let out a soft moan as her chest collapsed against his, their slick skin pressing together, the heat between them suffocating and delicious. Ken wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, locking her in place as he bent his knees slightly, planting his feet and started thrusting up into her tight cunt.

Hard. 

Fast.

“Ouhhhh! Ah ah ah—uh uh uh! Fuck fuck fuck!”

Ayla cried out, her voice jagged and high, each sharp upward slam of his hips punching a gasp from her lungs. His cock drove into her relentlessly, deep and furious, hitting every spot inside her like he was trying to imprint himself there forever.

“Fuck! Ken—oh my god! Y-you’re going to make me lose my mind! Hah! Nhg! Ohhhh!” she screamed, her nails clawing at his back, her forehead pressed against his shoulder as her body quaked in his arms. 

He groaned against her ear, gritting his teeth, arms flexed around her waist, holding her right where he wanted her. 

“You gonna cum for me again?” he growled. “Come on, baby… let me feel it. Cum.”

Ayla couldn’t speak; she could barely breathe. Her whole body shook as another orgasm tore through her. Her pussy spasmed violently around him once again, her cream slathering his cock as she cried out in his arms, legs shaking, nails digging in. 

Ken groaned, breath heavy and body slick with exertion. Still buried deep inside her, he tightened his hold around her, then shifted.

With a fierce grunt, he flipped her again, rolling her onto her back, taking control once more.

Ayla let out a squeal as her legs were suddenly lifted and folded back, her knees pressed near her chest, her bare feet pointed toward the ceiling. Ken gripped behind her thighs, holding her in a tight, deep mating press, his cock plunging into her with brutal, relentless force. 

Each thrust slammed into her soaked core, the wet slap of skin-on-skin filling the dim, humid room. Ayla was breathless, her hands gripping the sheets, eyes wide and glazed with pure ecstasy of being utterly dominated. 

“Fuck—Ayla,” he uttered, his breath labored, sweat dripping from his brow onto her face as he positioned into her faster, hard, more urgent. “I’m gonna gonna—fuck, I’m close—”

“Yes,” Ayla moaned, writhing beneath him, her whole body pinned and trembling. “Cum inside me, please—give it to me, Ken, I want it—I need it!”

Her words spurred him over the edge and had his swollen cock aching to claim her once and for all.

With a primal moan, Ken slammed one last time balls deep and held there, his cock twitching hard inside her as his heavy balls tightened, his whole body shuddering as he finally reached his climax.

“HERE IT COMES!” he roared, his muscles tensing from the pleasure. “FUCK! TAKE IT!”

Thick, hot ropes of cum spewed from him, spilling deep into her pussy as she arched her back and moaned, feeling every pulse, every spasm of his release. Her walls clenched around him, milking him for every drop as he emptied himself inside her.

He stayed buried inside Ayla, panting, her legs still pinned back, his body spent from the intensity of their filthy fuck.

Ayla lay there, eyes half-lidded, completely full, claimed by a total stranger she met online. Her hips involuntarily twitched, the sensation of his warmth spreading within her, erotic and satisfying. 

Ken slowly loosened his grip on her legs and let her down gently. With a deep exhale, he pulled out, his cock slipping free, wet and slick with their mixed arousal.

Ayla moaned softly at the sensation, her body quaking as his warm seed began to leak from her, slowly, dribbling down onto the sheets beneath her thighs. She lay there, dazed, completely spent, glowing.

Ken rolled onto his back beside her, equally breathless, his skin flushed and sweaty. He reached out and found her hand, lacing their fingers together, the quiet intimacy a sharp contrast to the messy, intense session that had consumed them.

They lay like that for a moment, breathing in sync, their chests rising and falling as they soaked it all in.

Then Ken turned his head and smirked. “So?” he asked, his voice rough, still catching. “Did I live up to your expectations?”

Ayla turned her head slightly to face him, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “Yes… And then some,” she whispered, cheeks still pink and rosy, legs weak. “You definitely weren’t lying… God… I can still feel you in my stomach.”

They both chuckled, the tension broken by shared laughter as they leaned in and kissed. Though this time it was something warmer, more affectionate.

Ken pulled back slightly and brushed a strand of her damp black hair from her face behind her ear. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m far from finished.”

Ayla blinked, her heart skipping. “You’re serious? After all that?”

“Heh, I said I make good on my promises, sweetheart,” he said, his grin widening. “We’ve got all weekend. And I plan to make the most of every second. You’re gonna be walking bow-legged by the time I leave.”

She bit her lip, nerves fluttering in her stomach. But there was something else, too. Excitement. A spark that burned like she had never felt before, now that the mystery had become real.

“God help me,” she said under her breath, giggling as she rested her arm on her forehead. 

Ken pulled her close again. “Too late for that.”

To be continued…

Art Commission: Ashlyn

I've decided that pin-ups will be for both Supporter and Super Supporter Tiers!

Sex scenes will remain as a Super Supporter Perk.

Announcement!

The full version of Tempting the Unknown 2 will just be released instead of the beta preview! It will be ready by Sunday evening!

Chapter 1 will now be available for the Supporter Tier!

Check it out here: Tempting the Unknown (Remastered) Ch. 01

Updates!

• Firstly, the poll for the character pin-up art has been concluded! The character chosen will be Ashlyn (Massage Therapy).

• Second, with me remaster of Tempting the Unknown, I have made the choice of splitting it into two different parts for flow and pacing. The second chapter will go over the events of what happens in the original story.

  Everything will essentially follow the same beats as the old version, but with an entirely different telling of the story.

• The beta preview for TTU will be renamed as the official chapter and will be released for the Supporter tier once I get a preview finished for chapter 2 by the end of next week!

• Once I get that done, I'll be wrapping up Top Brass 2 and getting started on the finale for Old Neighbor!

  Stay tuned, and thank you for the support - Joko44

Tempting the Unknown Remastered Ch. 01 (Official)

Ayla was the kind of quiet beauty that didn’t need to say much to get noticed. Pale, smooth skin that practically glowed under soft lighting. Long black hair that always seemed perfectly messy, falling around her face in loose waves, like she’d just rolled out of bed looking that good. Her hazel eyes were big and striking, framed by thick lashes that gave her a soft, almost innocent look. 

She stood around 5’7”, with a body that made clothes work for her: slim waist, full, C-cup breasts, just enough curve in her hips and thighs to draw attention when she walked. She liked outfits that showed off her alluring beauty: tight crop tops, clingy skirts, cute little dresses that rode high on her legs; nothing too lewd, just hot in a way that felt natural. 

Ayla didn’t think of herself as one of those OnlyFans girls or an influencer. She had a modest page on a content platform and decent followings on her social media accounts. She posted nothing too crazy, just revealing outfits, cute poses, and the occasional cosplay that showed off her curves. Tight tops, thigh-highs, bunny ears, anime girl aesthetics. It was playful, suggestive even, but she never crossed the line into full-on lewd. Just enough to keep people looking—and paying. 

She made a little extra each month from her platform. Her regulars were mostly harmless. They tipped five, ten bucks here and there, left comments like “stunning” or “my queen.” Sometimes they’d ask for something spicier, but she’d politely decline and move on. It was easy money, and she had full control. She liked that.

Then one night, a new notification popped up.  

Tip: $50

“I want to fuck the shit out of you.”

No lead-in. No introduction. Just that.

Ayla blinked. For a second, she thought maybe she had misread it. But no, the words were as clear as day. She tapped the user profile. Blank avatar. No display name, just Ken 12456. No bio. No comments. Nothing. 

She let out a short laugh, somewhere between confused and amused. Most guys tried to flirt. This one went straight for the throat. 

She should have deleted it and reported him, maybe. But fifty bucks wasn’t nothing. And something about how unfiltered it was made her pause.

Ayla scoffed, shaking her head and brushing it off. Guys were always bold when money was involved. Still, as crude as it was, the fifty bucks went straight into her account, and she wasn’t about to complain. “Thanks for the donation, asshole,” she muttered with a dry smirk, already planning her next upload. 

That weekend, she posted a new set. A sexy cosplay—tight top with plenty of cleavage, thigh-highs, and a tiny, pleated skirt that barely covered her ass when she moved it just right. It was cute, playful, and just enough to make her inbox start buzzing again. 

A sizable number of hearts. A “marry me.” The usual.

Then another tip came through. 

Tip: $25

“If I ever get my hands on you, sexy, I’d make you forget every guy you’ve ever been with. I’d fuck you so silly you’d beg. God, I would love to see you choking on my cock 🍆😈🥵.”

Ayla gasped, her eyes flying open as she covered her mouth with one hand. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered through her fingers, staring at the screen in utter disbelief.

There it was again. Same blank profile. Ken12456. Another generous tip, another vulgar fantasy. It wasn’t even 10 a.m.!

She blinked, read it again, then exhaled sharply, unsure if she was more offended or shocked. But in either case, it made her stomach flip, just a little. 

“This guy is unhinged,” she said out loud, tossing her phone down on the bed. 

But she didn’t delete the message. 

And she didn’t block him, either. 

A few days passed, and the tips kept coming.

Twenty here, thirty there, always with another filthy message attached. They were never subtle. Each one more vulgar and obscene than the last. Ayla kept telling herself it was nothing. Just some anonymous perv with a little too much money for his own good. She rolled her hazel eyes. Laughing sometimes. Shook her head and muttered, “Jesus, dude,” under her breath. 

But she never deleted the messages.

And slowly, something started to change. 

The shock wore off. The edge dulled. The filth didn’t feel quite as repulsive anymore. She got used to these absurd, unfiltered fantasies showing up with every new tip. And after a while… they didn’t just amuse her.

They started to make her feel something else. 

Sometimes she’d read one, laugh it off, and feel her body react anyway. A little flush in her cheeks. A flutter in her lower belly. She hated that she noticed. Hated that the imaginary voice she’d thought of behind those messages was starting to stick in her head. 

But the money was good, and she liked the money. 

So… she let it keep going.

Then one night, lying in bed wearing just a tank top and panties, scrolling through her phone with the lights off, another familiar notification came through. Bigger tip than usual—$75. The message with it wasn’t just vulgar this time. It was direct.

“You gonna keep ignoring me forever, sweetheart? I know you’re reading these. I’ll send you another generous gift if you reply 😉.”

Ayla stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the message. 

Her instinct was to ignore him. Just leave it. He was her personal creep, her anonymous little piggy bank. That’s how it worked. She posted cute pics, he threw money and said gross shit, and she kept the wall up. No interaction. No connection. Safe.

But still… he’d tipped her a lot. Way more than anyone else. He was relentless, not really mean, but still. Just horny, gross, and weirdly persistent. 

She bit her lip, weighing it in her head. She knew she shouldn’t. She owed him nothing. 

But after all that?

Maybe he deserved… something.

Even if it was just a few words. Just enough to keep him spending. Nothing more. 

Ayla sighed, straightening herself out in bed, resting her back against the headboard as she sat. Her heart thumped in her chest as her thumbs hovered over her keyboard, and she began to type. 

She quickly wrote something off the top of her head. Nothing flirty. Nothing too inviting. Just enough.

“You’re… certainly enthusiastic. I’ve never had someone send me that many tips before. I appreciate your support.”

She stared at the message for a second, then hit send before she could second-guess herself. The little ping of the delivery made her stomach flutter. 

She watched the screen, unsure of what to expect. Part of her figured he’d blow up with another barrage of filthy nonsense. But the typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then popped back up again as if he was actually thinking about what to say. 

Finally, a new message came through. 

“About time you responded to me. I knew you’d cave eventually. And trust me, I’ve only just started. You’re worth every cent, Ayla 😏.”

Her cheeks blushed with a mix of embarrassment and something warmer. Her breath quickened, and her chest pounded. His boldness was something she could at least admire. Most men wouldn’t dare to try what this mystery fan would. 

Ayla set her phone on her chest and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell she’d just started. 

It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed again.

Tip: $40

“As promised. Thanks for replying, sweetheart. You don’t know how fucking sexy it is watching you pretend I’m not getting under your skin.”

Ayla let out a slow breath, the corner of her mouth twitching. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, he was right, whether he knew it or not. But she was sure he did. 

She typed back quickly, still trying to play it cool. 

“You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?”

His reply came almost instantly.

“Yeah? And yet you’re still here, happily accepting my generous offer.”

Ayla’s lips pursed into a line as her brows furrowed. Right again.

Another message followed soon after. 

“You’re probably wearing almost nothing in bed while texting me, aren’t you?”

She blinked at the screen, her eyes angling down at her current attire, which he correctly predicted. He was annoyingly perceptive. Or lucky. Either way, he wasn’t wrong… again.

“You don’t know what I’m wearing.”

“I know you’re not dressed to ignore me 😏.”

Ayla shifted under her blanket, suddenly hyperaware of the way her thin tank top clung to her chest. Her nipples were poking through the fabric. She crossed her legs, squeezing slightly. She hated how easily he worked her up. 

Another buzz. 

Tip: $25

“I’m picturing you now. Lying there with your phone in one hand and the other slowly drifting under your panties.”

Ayla’s breath caught in her throat. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, heat pooling low in her belly. Her thighs pressed tighter, her skin tingling. She could feel herself getting wet. And the worst part? He hadn’t even said anything that graphic, not yet, at least.

“You’re going to get yourself reported,” she typed, her heart racing. “You keep talking like that, I’ll block you. Or worse.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You sound awfully sure of that.”

“Oh, I’m certain. You like the attention. I’ve been sending you those same messages for almost a week now. And yet, you still haven’t done anything. You’re lying there flushed and horny right now, happily taking my tips like the good girl you are 😏.”

Ayla didn’t respond. Her fingers trembled slightly as she read and reread the message. Her legs shifted under the blanket, thighs brushing together. Her fingers hovered, unsure whether to type something back or just toss her phone across the room. 

She hated how well he read her. Hated that he wasn’t wrong.

She had to let it go on. She had to keep reading. She hadn’t blocked him. She hadn’t reported anything. And now she was lying in bed, half-naked, her phone in one hand and the other resting a little too close to her waistband. 

Ayla swallowed, her cheeks burning as she reread the message. 

She felt her pulse everywhere—in her throat, in her chest, and pulsing hot between her legs. Her body was betraying her, and she knew it. He was pushing. Teasing. Trying to tip her past her boundaries. 

And the worst part? 

It was working. 

She hadn’t even touched herself yet, but she was already wet. She knew if she responded now, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Another message appeared on her screen, smooth and cocky. 

“You’re quiet again, baby. That usually means I’m right. Bet you’re squirming under those blankets. Why don’t you send me a little something? Just a quick pic. Right now. I want to see what I’ve been tipping for.”

Ayla rolled her eyes, her inner thighs rubbing tighter as she felt her panties grow even more moist with her arousal. 

“I don’t do special requests,” she typed. “You know that.”

His response came almost immediately.

Tip: $60

“Yeah, but I think you’ll make an exception. Just one. For me. I’ve earned it, haven’t I? 😚”

Ayla let out a long sigh, her body slid off her headboard, and sank into her mattress. Her screen glowed in the dim room, lighting up the amused twist on her lips. 

“You have way too much money for your own good,” she replied. “You think you can just get anything you want because your pockets are a little deep?”

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly. 

“No. I think I can get what I want because you want to give it to me.”

Ayla blinked, her cheeks burning red. 

“The money just makes it easier for you to pretend this isn’t turning you on.”

She stared at the message, her lush lips parted slightly. Her fingers curled around her phone. She wanted to deny him, but he wasn’t wrong. 

She told herself that she was in control, that he was simply just a creep who happened to be a smooth talker… and had enough money to spend on her. She had the power here. She wouldn’t be bought out to break her own rule, right?

But his words were crawling under her skin, hot, shameless, and sharp. And the more she continued to engage with him, the more she wanted to prove him wrong—or prove him right. She wasn’t sure which anymore. 

Another message popped up. 

Tip: $40 

Ayla let out a strained groan and buried her face into her pillow, muffling a frustrated scream. “This fucking guy,” she muttered, kicking her feet under the blanket.

“Still waiting. Don’t make me beg.”

She huffed loudly, cheeks already warm as she sat up against the headboard again. “Unbelievable,” she whispered to herself, grabbing her phone and flipping her camera on.

Just one. 

Her tank top hung loose over her chest. She tugged it down a bit, just enough for a deep line of cleavage to show. Nothing X-rated, but something different from what she normally did. She knew this would drive him crazy. She angled her head, gave a soft, teasing pout, and snapped the shot. 

She stared at it for a second, then hit send before she could change her mind. 

“There. You better not share this, or everyone is going to start asking.”

Her heart pumped fast as the message was delivered. She could already imagine the smirk forming on his side of the screen. 

Before she could even see his reply, Ayla tossed her phone across the bed like a hot potato. Her face flushed, her body buzzed with heat that she didn’t want to admit was arousal. She buried her face in her pillow and groaned, muffling the flood of thoughts swirling through her head. 

“Fuck… What the hell am I thinking?” she muttered into the plush fabric, cheeks searing hot. “That was stupid. So stupid.”

She pulled the covers over her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to will herself to sleep. If she passed out, maybe she could forget this whole thing ever happened. It was a struggle for about an hour. The throbbing heat between her thighs and the mix of embarrassment and simmering arousal kept her restlessly awake. But eventually, exhaustion won out.

Morning came with a dull ache between her legs and a damp patch in her panties that made her groan the second she shifted under the sheets. 

“Ugh… seriously?” she whispered, throwing an arm over her face. 

She lay there for a while, not moving, trying to ignore the growing urge to reach for her phone. Maybe he hadn’t even replied. Maybe he hated the photo. Or worse, loved it and wouldn’t shut up about it.

She was annoyed at how badly she wanted to know.

With a sigh, she reached for her phone and dragged it across the bed. The screen lit up with several notifications that stacked throughout her slumber.

New tip.

Multiple messages. 

Her breath hitched as her thumb hesitantly hovered over the screen. She tapped the message thread, and it popped open with a smooth scroll. Her loins anxiously rubbed together as she read. 

“Fuck. My cock is so fucking hard for you right now. Goddamn, Ayla. You’re so fucking sexy, I love it! I’m going to enjoy this one for a while 💦🍆🍆.”

Ayla's brows arched, the words hit her like a splash of cold water, and immediately shook her out of her post-wake-up drowsiness. 

“Oh my god,” she murmured, flopping back onto the bed, phone resting on her chest. 

Her first instinct was disgust. Her nose wrinkled, and she let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. This man had no shame. None. Who the hell says shit like that and means it?” What kind of freak thinks it’s okay just to talk to someone like that?

And yet… she couldn’t look away. 

The message sat there, bold and filthy, radiating heat through her screen. Her eyes lingered on it, rereading it once more. Maybe twice. Her legs unconsciously crossed tightly together. 

She groaned again, dragging her hand over her face. “He’s such a creep,” she whispered. “...Why is that kind of hot?”

There was no reason it should be. And yet here she was, cheeks flushed, panties soaked, and now imagining this faceless pervert, hard and stroking himself to her. To that photo. 

She didn’t know if she wanted to block him… or message him back. 

Ayla chose not to reply—for her own sanity.

She put her phone aside, rolled out of bed, and told herself she wasn’t going to let some online perv get in her head. It was just a dumb conversation she knew should never have happened. A dumb, gross, horny exchange. And if she gave it more attention, it would only pull her deeper. She needed to stay in control. 

Later that afternoon, she set up her camera in her bedroom for her next post. 

She wore a teasing outfit—tiny black shorts that barely clung to her hips, a snug little top that lifted just enough to flash the under-curve of her breasts. Her silky black hair was down, soft around her shoulders, and she’d done her makeup just right. A little sweet, a little sultry. She looked good, as she always did.

She was adjusting the lighting when her phone buzzed on the edge of the bed. 

Ken12456:

“What’s the next post, baby? Something special today?”

Ayla rolled her hazel eyes, swiped the notification away, and went back to framing her shot.

Buzz.

Tip: $30

“Come on. Don’t leave me hanging. I thought we formed something special last night. Let me see what you’re cooking up.”

She exhaled loudly, her posture slumping as she sat on a nearby chair. “This man…” she muttered. Her phone buzzed again. 

Ken12456:

“Just a little sneak peek. Just for me.”

She stared at the screen, fighting the twitch in her fingers. She typed, finally giving in.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you, beautiful 😏.”

She scowled at her phone, heat already rising in her cheeks.

“I don’t do previews.”

Another buzz. 

Tip: $40

Ayla let out a strangled, muffled scream into her hands, blushing furiously. “This fucking guy! Auuugghh!” she hissed. 

She turned toward the mirror, adjusting her hip to show a little more skin than she normally would, and snapped a quick photo. Her expression was cute, soft lips pursed slightly, one shoulder up, playful and teasing. Not explicit. Just enough to make him squirm. 

She hit send.

“This is just for you, got it? Don’t ever share this.”

His reply came almost immediately. 

“Goddamn… you’re unreal. If I had you in front of me right now, I’d bury my face between those thighs and make you forget how to spell your name 🥵😈.”

Ayla stared at the screen, her eyes narrowing. 

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward before she could stop it. A slight smirk crept across her lips. It was still gross. Overly bold. It was exactly what she expected from him.

And yet… 

She shook her head, setting her phone face down on the bed. “You’re lucky you tip well, asshole.”

With a soft exhale, she turned back toward the mirror and slipped back into her rhythm. Her smirk lingered as she shifted her pose, arched one hip, and adjusted the hem of her shorts. 

Back to business.

-

The messages didn’t stop.

Day after day, Ken kept tipping. Kept messaging. Always vulgar, always shameless, and always generous.

Ayla told herself it was just temporary. That she wasn’t really breaking her rules, just bending them a little. A few sneak peeks. Some playful selfies. Nothing blatantly explicit. Nothing she hadn’t done in her regular posts… just something a little more personalized for her number one fan and pervert.

He’d send a tip, drop a filthy line in her inbox, and she’d sigh, but she’d always reply. Sometimes with a photo, or a coy message. It had become routine now, almost like muscle memory. 

She’d tease him. He’d tip again.

And every time, it got a little easier. 

She knew she’d crossed a line. When she first started her page, she swore she wouldn’t take requests. Wouldn’t do one-on-one stuff. It was just a place to share her style, her looks, and her vibe on her own terms. 

But Ken made it hard to stick to that. 

He never asked for more than she was willing to give. He just paid for the chance to test her boundaries. And she let him.

Because it was good money, hell, it was great. She used this extra cash to buy some cute outfits she’d been eyeing for months, but she never had enough money to afford them. 

And maybe worse, she liked the attention he gave her. 

Liked how hungry he sounded in his messages. Liked knowing there was someone out there getting hard over her, desperate for her, paying just to get a glimpse. Of course, she knew that most of her followers were men. No doubt, she was the image of their lewd fantasies. 

But Ken was different.

He wasn’t just another silent follower double-tapping her posts from the shadows. He spoke. Boldly. Filthily. Like he didn’t see her as some untouchable fantasy, but as something real—something he could taste, claim, and ruin in all the ways he described with his obscene imagination. 

There was no pretending with him. No fake niceties or sugarcoated flattery. Just raw want, typed out and sent with every payment. 

It should’ve put her off. Hell, it probably would have offended her if it came from anyone else. 

But with Ken… it excited her. The way he wanted her was so loud and desperate. Not because she was hot, but because she was the one making him lose control. And he made sure she knew it. 

She’d never admit it out loud, but her heart kicked a little faster every time his name popped up with a new tip. Her thighs pressed together. Her mouth twitched into that familiar, guilty smile. 

Ayla created a clean, strictly professional boundary when she started all this. 

But every day, Ken chipped away at it. 

And she let him.

-

It was a slow descent, and Ayla allowed it to happen.

What started as harmless banter turned into something hotter, riskier, and more real. Her messages to Ken got bolder. Flirtier. She started playing back, sending playful replies, calling him a perv, a dog, a desperate little freak… but she always attached a wink or smirking emoji. 

And Ken? He knew exactly how to keep her reeled in, and he intended to pull her deeper into his hold. 

It started with tips for sneak peeks. Then came the special requests. Nothing demanding, just soft, relentless pressure. A striptease. Just to her bra. Then her panties. Then, on her knees, biting her lip, her pretty hazel eyes wide and suggestive as she posed for him in the mirror.

Every time he tipped more. 

And every time, she told herself, this is the last one. 

But it never was.

One night, Ayla was curled up in bed, her screen casting a glow into the dark room. The chat with Ken was already open, their messages fresh as they began what became a routine almost every night.

He’d been particularly pushy tonight. Still charming in his filthy, cocky way. But more direct this time. Asking for more than he normally would. Suggesting things in that casual, shameless tone of his.

“Come on. I’ve been good to you. A little extra skin won’t kill you.”

She rolled her eyes, typing back slowly. 

“You’ve already seen too much. I really need to go to bed. I’ve given you a lot of my time already.”

“Not enough,” he replied almost instantly. “I want to see those perfect tits bare. You can’t just tease me and then run.”

Ayla stared at the message, heat rising across her face. Her cheeks burned as she hugged the blanket tighter around herself, as if that would stop the growing ache low in her belly and the buzz of arousal curling through her limbs. 

This was supposed to be where she drew the line. She’d played along, teased him, even bent her rules more than she meant to. But this? A nude. She’d said she wouldn’t go that far. 

And yet… her body was betraying her. Her nipples were hard, her thighs clenched. She felt wet. Really wet. She knew she should’ve masturbated before talking to Ken. The thrill and heat of the moment shrouded her clear judgment. However, she remained steadfast… mostly.

“You’re such a perv.”

“You love it. I know you do.”

“I don’t send nudes.”

“Come on. Please? I’ll make it worth your while 😏.”

She stared at the message, heart pounding, body already warm under the sheets. She immediately knew what that meant.

“No,” she typed quickly. “Don’t you dare.”

She was trying to sound firm, but even to her own eyes, it looked weak.

Her panties clung to her, soaked through from the pressure building in her pussy. She shifted in bed, thighs pressing together, her nipples aching beneath her top. Her body didn’t care about rules. Her body wanted it.

Tip: $100

Her stomach flipped.

Her breath left her lips in a soft gasp. “Fuck me…” she whispered, dropping the phone on the bed and burying her face in her pillow.

She let out a muffled scream into the soft fabric, legs kicking under the covers in frustration. Her body was on fire, pulsing with heat. Her thighs wouldn’t stop rubbing together. Her skin felt too tight, too sensitive. What is this man doing to me??

The heat of the moment was overwhelming. She wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. Just feeling. 

“Augh! This bastard,” she hissed into the pillow, then rolled onto her back, chest heaving. Her hands slid underneath her tank top, lifting it slowly. Her bare breasts met the cool air, and she shivered. Her nipples were stiff, begging to be touched. She let go, succumbing to her body’s will. 

She opened the camera and angled it downward. Her fingers slid over her chest and covered her nipples just enough to keep it technical. No nipple, no problem. Not really a nude, right?

Her mouth came into view. Her lush lips parted, and she bit down on the bottom one with a soft pout. Her cheeks blushed, and her body trembled. 

The shot was raw. Lewd. Hot.

She stared at it for a moment, attaching a caption to it, and hit send before she could dwell on what she had just done. 

“Don’t say I never give you anything, you greedy bastard 😤💓.”

Ayla quickly tossed her phone aside and covered her flushed, burning face with her hands. She let out a small scream. It was bolder than anything she’d ever done before. Yes, she’d done some suggestive pics for her social media, even more naughty things just for Ken. But this? It was stepping beyond her realm. 

Her heart pounded as she lay back against the pillows, her tank top still pushed up to her collarbone, panties unknowingly soaked with her arousal. She’d tried to fight it, tried to act like it was just about the money, about keeping him spending. But she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. 

She was horny. Aching. Her body screamed for more.

Ayla’s hand drifted across her stomach, her skin warm and tingling. She hadn’t even meant to, not really. But once the photo was sent, the throbbing between her legs prompted her to act, seizing control.

She slid her slender fingers down slowly, dipping beneath the waistband of her panties, and let out a shaky breath when she felt how wet her pussy was. 

God, she was so fucking turned on right now. 

It was a mistake not to touch herself earlier. She’d been tense all day, needy and distracted, and now it had built into something she could barely contain. Every message from Ken, every filthy word, and every dollar he dropped all pushed her to the edge. 

She kept going, eyes closed, mouth parting slightly. Her hips began to rock gently, thighs squeezing around her hand as she began to make slow, deliberate circles around her sensitive clit. She moaned softly, her pace quickening.

Then her phone buzzed.

Ayla opened her eyes, caught her breath, and reached for her phone automatically with her free hand, unlocking it. 

“Jesus fuck. You’re so fucking sexy. You’ve got me stroking my cock so hard right now. I want to suck on those perfect tits so badly 🥵 Fuck. I’d ruin you if I were there right now.”

Ayla didn’t stop after reading the message. 

She couldn’t.

Her fingers dipped lower, sliding past her soaked folds, causing her breath to hitch. Her back arched slightly, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure hit her hot, aching body. She moved slowly, fucking herself with her two fingers, her thumb grazing over her clit in lazy, teasing circles. 

Her phone rumbled again, her eyes flicking to the screen just in time to see another message pop. 

“You still there, baby?”

Ayla didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her free hand clutched the sheets as the other kept moving, fingers curling inside her dripping pussy, hitting that sweet spot that made her thighs twitch. 

Another message.

“Are you wet right now? Does this turn you on?”

She bit her lip, her teeth sinking in hard. Her chest heaved as sweat began to build along her skin. Her fingers were slicked with her wetness, every motion making her feel like she was teetering on the edge. 

She didn’t type a thing. 

And still, the messages came. 

“Are you fingering that tight little pussy like I think you are?”

“Are you imagining my cock in you instead?”

Ayla squeezed her eyes shut, and suddenly she was imagining it. The things he’d described in his late-night messages replayed in her head in vivid, filthy flashes—his hands gripping her hips, his voice in her ear, his cock buried deep inside her, stretching her, making her cry out. She still had no idea what he looked like; hell, he could be some fat small-dicked chub for all she knew. But somehow, that made it hotter. All she had were his bold, lewd words and the money he kept throwing at her like she was something he owned. 

Her pussy clenched around her fingers at the thought. She imagined he might be hot, considering how confident he was. 

The screen lit up again.

Tip: $200

Her body jolted, a moan slipping out before she could stop it. The number sent a fresh rush of heat through her. 

Still, she remained silent. 

She just kept going, panting softly, soaking her hand with every stroke, imagining him watching her, imagining that he knew exactly what she was doing. 

Her body trembled, muscles tight, her fingers still deep inside herself as she kept pressing against her sensitive, throbbing sweet spots. Her chest rose and fell with shaky breaths, her phone still glowed on the bedside beside her, messages stacked on the screen. 

“Hello? Still there, Ayla?? Don’t stop responding now. Things were just getting good.”

She stared at the words, heart pounding. 

She knew where this was going. If she replied, it wouldn’t stop. It would turn into a naughty exchange, filthy back-and-forth messages that would descend her deeper into whatever this was becoming. She couldn’t take this next step. It was far beyond the rules she had already bent so far just for Ken. But she was already halfway there. 

Ayla told herself she couldn’t. This was the line.

However, she glanced again at the tip he’d just sent.

$200

Her pussy throbbed. 

The heat between her thighs intensified.

The sheer filth of his begging, the idea of him stroking himself to her photo while she fingered herself in total silence, made her dizzy with arousal. It was so taboo. The unspoken connection between them felt so wrong, but so damn arousing. 

She bit her lip, hesitating for just a second longer before finally giving in. 

Her fingers moved across the screen, shaking as she typed back. 

“Yeah… I’m still here.”

And with that one little tap, the dam broke.

The moment the message was sent, her screen lit up again almost immediately. 

“Fuck… there you are, sexy.”

“You’ve got me so fucking hard right now. I’m so fucking horny for you 🍆🍆💦.”

“Tell me, are you wet?” 

Ayla swallowed, her thighs slick and pressing together, her fingers now resting idly against her slick folds. Her heart was racing, and a pang of thrill shot through her. 

“You wish,” she replied, still unsure if she wanted to reveal the truth. “Not everything revolves around your dick, you know.”

She hit send, smirking to herself, trying to maintain some sense of control, some distance between her and the mess she’d made of her own rules.

His reply came fast. 

“Hmm, so it’s a no then?”

She hesitated. 

Her hands were still deep in her crotch, fingertips edging slow, lazy circles around her swollen clit. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to pull back before this went any further—but her body already made the call.

“Not saying that, either 🫢.”

She sent it before she could think too hard.

Another message lit up instantly. 

“You naughty little thing. You’re touching yourself, aren’t you?”

“Tell me, baby. I need to know if you’re just as turned on as I am.”

She stared at the screen, her lip caught between her teeth. Her loins clenched tighter. Her pussy throbbed, soaking wet and aching for more.

Her fingers slid lower again, dipping between her folds. Her body shuddered at the contact. She was so sensitive that it almost hurt. 

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard, her stomach fluttering. 

“Maybe I am.”

A pause. Then she added:

“But why should I reveal that to you?”

Her fingers already resumed their steady, curling motions, her breath catching as her body buzzed with pleasure. 

The typing bubble on his end popped up immediately. 

“Because I paid to hear it.”

Another buzz.

Tip: $125

Ayla bit down on a moan, her hips twitching against her hand. 

“Because the thought of me stroking my cock to the sound of your dirty little confession is making you even wetter.”

She gasped softly, her fingers moving faster, her body reacting to every word as if he were right beside her. And he wasn’t wrong. 

The messages came quicker now, each one filthier than the last.

“Tell me exactly what you’re doing right now, baby.

“Tell me where your fingers are. Inside you?”

Ayla let out a shaky breath, her fingers sinking back inside her tight slit. She had since given up holding back and shamelessly pleasured herself to the thought of her online pervert. 

She typed with one hand, the other still buried between her thighs. 

“Yes.”

The typing bubble on his side appeared fast, almost frantic. 

“Fuck. Tell me more.”

She paused, her breath ragged. 

“I’m so fucking horny right now.”

“My fingers are deep inside my wet pussy. I can’t stop thinking about your cock, and all the things you’d said you’d do to me 💦.”

Another message popped up instantly. 

“Holy fuck, Ayla. I’m stroking myself to that right now.”

“Thinking about spreading those sexy legs and filling that tight pussy 🍆🍆🥵.”

Her toes curled at his reply. Her fingers curled deeper inside herself, hips rocking, eyes fluttering closed. She didn’t hesitate this time, giving herself to the heated moment. 

“I want it. I want you to fuck me. Use me. Make me cum on your cock.”

“I’d be dripping all over you.”

The chat lit up again. 

Tip: $150

“You’d be moaning my name with that pretty mouth, begging me not to stop.”

“I’d ruin you.”

Ayla moaned loudly, her fingers sleuthed faster now, her body flushed and trembling as their messages spilled into something raw, filthy, and unstoppable. 

Their messages kept coming in fast, unfiltered, both of them too turned on to slow down. 

“If I had you here right now,” Ken wrote, “I’d pin you down and eat your sweet pussy out until you screamed. Then I’d fuck you so hard and deep until you’d lose your mind.”

“You’d be soaked, dripping down my cock, baby.”

Ayla’s chest tightened, her fingers pumped faster inside her soaked cunt. Her sheets were damp with sweat, her body trembled with desire. 

“Yeah? I’d ride you so good. Reward you for being such a supportive fan,” she typed, panting softly as she wrote. “I wouldn’t stop. I’d grind on you, soak your cock, make a mess.”

“Fuck.”

“You’d cum in me, wouldn’t you? Claim my pussy?”

Her screen lit again, the intensity of their sexting session heating up to a fever pitch. 

“Fuck yes! God, I’m naked right now, baby. So hot and sweaty… Stroking my cock so slow and hard for you… I’m throbbing for you 🥵🍆🍆.”

“I want you to take off whatever you've got on if you haven’t already. Get naked with me, now.”

“Then send me a picture of that beautiful body of yours. I need it,
Ayla. Give it to me.”

He didn’t send a tip; he didn’t need to. Just the message.

Ayla paused, just long enough to feel the weight of what he wanted. Her tank top was already pushed up. Her panties were soaked and sticking to her thighs. Without a second thought, she peeled them off slowly, lifted up her top, and peeled off her panties before haphazardly tossing them across the bed. Her hands shook slightly as she set up the camera, her skin prickled, feeling her fully exposed body against the cool air. 

She shifted on the bed, legs spread slightly, her body still hot from the high. Her back arched just enough to make her breasts sit perfectly, nipples hard and exposed, skin dewy with sweat. She used one hand to hold the phone at an angle above her chest, capturing every inch of her perfect, bare form—soft curves, parted thighs, and her messy, dripping crotch.

With her other hand, she reached between her legs and spread her fingers apart, glistening with her sweet nectar. Her lips were parted, her teeth tugging gently at her lower lip, fetching hazel eyes half-lidded in that perfect mix of satisfaction and hunger. 

She snapped the photo.

Raw, shameless, and glorious. 

Then she attached it with a simple message:

“Look how wet I am for you 💝.”

Ken’s response came almost immediately. 

“Holy fuck, Ayla…” 

“You’re unreal. I want you so fucking bad right now.”

“Wish I could be there… right between those perfect thighs.”

Ayla’s breath caught, her heart pounding with excitement. She feverishly nibbled her lips, thighs twitching with tension. Now that she’d sent Ken a picture of her, she grew naggingly curious about what this stranger looked like.

She needed to know.

Her fingers hovered over the screen.

“You talk big game,” she finally typed.

“But are you actually hot… or some chubby old guy with a dirty mouth?”

A pause. Then a smirking emoji popped up. 

“ 😏 You’re a curious thing, aren’t you?”

A few moments later, a new video came through.

She instinctively tapped it open without a second thought.

The camera showed just enough. He was lying back somewhere dimly lit, a faint sheen of sweat on his lean, lightly defined torso. His hand stroked a thick, hard cock—veins visible, precum glistening. His breathing was heavy, guttural, with a low groan every now and then. 

No face, however. But that wasn’t her top concern at the moment. 

What surprised her though was his cock. He was tastefully big. And clearly worked up.

Ayla exhaled sharply, her mouth falling agape as her pupils dilated with desire. 

“Hmm, my god…” she murmured, fingers sinking deeper into her pussy as if simulating what it would feel like having him inside her. 

He certainly had the package to back up his confidence. 

She was very pleased. 

Ayla took another gander at the video, allowing it to play in a loop, unable to pry her eyes away from the screen. She noted his body, he wasn’t fat or anything, but lean. There was something mature in the way his body looked. Slightly weathered, just a bit rough around the edges. The faint muscle tone, the light trail of hair down his stomach, the confident way he stroked himself. It all screamed experience. 

But what really got to her were the sounds. 

His deep, gravelly grunts came through the video like a low, hungry growl. And when he moaned her name, low and raw, it hit her deep. 

“Ayla…”

She gasped, her toes curling as her body shuddered with throbbing heat. 

Fuck. That voice. That cock. That primal need. 

It turned her on so badly she almost couldn’t take it.

Her fingers pumped faster, the wet squishing sounds filled her dark room, and her breathing became heavier. 

God help her, she wanted this man. 

Their horny-fueled exchange was relentless, raw, impassioned, and filthy in the most thrilling way. And every message made her pussy quiver, her body ache, and her temperature rise.

“Fuck… Ayla, send me a video,” Ken typed. 

“I need more… Give me more, baby. I need it so bad 🥵🍆. Get into a sexy pose for me.”

Her body throbbed just reading it. She was already halfway there, her hips grinding into the sheets, her fingers slathered, the hunger between her legs consuming her.

She got into position without question, rolling onto her stomach and shifting to her knees, before leaning forward on her elbows. With her ass lifted high and thighs parted, the faint sheen of her wetness glistened between her folds. Her silky black hair spilled down her back in waves. She angled her phone at the mirror beside her bed, capturing a full side view of her flushed body, her bare ass, and a alluring hint of her soaked fingers teasingly sleuthing into her dripping pussy. 

She hit record. 

Her slender fingers moved in slow, deliberate strokes, sliding deep and curling, her hips rocking back into her hand. The lewd sounds of wetness filled the room. She turned her head just slightly enough for her lips to part around a soft moan. 

“Mmm… Ken… Mhmmm…”

She whimpered his name again, breathy and needy right into the mic. The bed creaked beneath her. Her glazed hazel eyes fluttered as she looked into her reflection, watching herself come undone.

“K-ken…” 

She gasped his name again, louder this time, her voice breaking with lust. Her back arched deeper, her hand working faster. She didn’t stop, not even when her legs began to buckle from how hard she was grinding into her own palm. 

She ended the video at just the right moment, right as she whined his name again, voice dripping with sultry need, and hit send. 

“Fuck…” she whispered into her pillow, already anxious to see what he’d say next. 

Ken lost it the moment the video came through. 

“Fuck, Ayla! Fuckfuckfuck…”

“You’re perfect! That ass, that arch! You’re gonna kill me. Shit! You’re so fucking perfect🥵🥵🍆🍆🥴🥴.”

Ayla could barely read his reply. Her eyes were heavy, her body shuddering, hips rolling into her fingers as her juices coated her inner thighs. Her feet dug into the sheets, clenching while her moans spilled from her soft lips. 

She could barely breathe. Her hips bucked harder against her hand. 

“I’m close,” she typed with her free hand, while using her other hand to work her clit in tight, desperate strokes before sinking back deep between her folds. “So fucking close, I’m going to lose my mind 🥴.”

“Me too,” Ken fired back without a second to spare. “Stroke for stroke, Ayla. You hear me?”

“Cum with me. I want us to lose it together. Right fucking now.”

Her body clenched, everything inside tightening like a coil as she reached her edge. 

“Say my name when you cum, baby,” he added. “Let me know I made that sweet little pussy soak.”

That was it—the final straw.

Ayla’s mouth dropped open as her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave. Her eyes rolled back, legs locking, hips twitching uncontrollably as she came hard into her hand. Her body spasmed against the damp sheets, her chest heaving, moans pouring from her throat in messy, gasping waves.

“K-ken—oh my god—Kennnnn!” 

Her phone fell from her hand as she desperately clawed at the blanket for her dear life. Her wet walls quivered violently, constricting tightly around her curling fingers as her slimy arousal gushed all over her palm. 

She was dazed and utterly spent.  But just as she was catching her breath and she began to slowly lower her body back onto the bed, another message lit up.

“Holy fuck, that was amazing 🥵🫠.”

Then came a photo. 

It was him, his weathered lean torso, skin slick, his abs streaked with thick ropes of white cum. His cock still in hand, half-hard, skin slick, with a smirk behind the camera she could almost feel. He looked wrecked. Proud. 

Ayla stared at her screen. No words.

Without overthinking, she grabbed her phone again, still nude and shaking slightly, rolling onto her back again. She removed her delicate fingers from her pulsing slit, dragging them through the creamy mess between her thighs. She held her phone up—fingers glossy and soaked, her fingertips rosy and flush as thick strings of her sweet nectar stretched between them. 

One picture. No words. 

She hit send. 

Her heart pounded with pure thrill and satisfaction as she watched the picture go through. Her body ached in the best way. She fully relaxed onto her pillow, her body was drenched with sweat, and twitching from the aftershocks of her mind-melting orgasm. 

As always, he replied instantly. 

“Fuck. You’re my perfect little mess, Ayla. You’re worth every penny.”

She smiled, slow, breathy, and pleased. 

She was neck deep in this naughty, depraved game… and she loved every second of it.

-

Tempting the Unknown Remastered: Update!

A preview beta of the first half of my revised Tempting the Unknown story will be ready by tomorrow evening. Once that comes out for Super Supporters, I'll be releasing that first preview I did for the Support Tier! I would encourage you guys to give it a read!

Stay tuned!

Art Commission Sneak Peek: Sarah x Albert

Tempting the Unknown (Original) Public Release!

Since I'm working on essentially a reboot for this story, I'll be releasing the original version for all my free members! Please give it a read!

Quick Summary: A girl gets some vulgar DMs from a mystery account. She is taken aback by his lewd, obscene comments about all the things he wants to do with her. She is disgusted but also intrigued, and decides to interact with him. Things get heated as he draws her into his depraved world.

Story Link: Tempting the Unknown (Original)

Art Commission Poll: Pin-ups

These will be single 3d art pieces of my female characters! I'll also be doing sex scenes too, but those take a bit longer to make.

I'll be using Syna for these commissions. Here are a few samples from them.

Examples:

Please vote on who you want to see!

Note, I already did one for Sandra, and I'm currently having a couple of pieces for Sarah being made right now so they won't be on this list.

Ayla Muses

Here are a few images that fit Ayla’s description.

Story Link: Tempting the Unknown Ch. 01

Tempting the Unknown: Remaster (Preview)

Author's Note: Here's what my remaster is looking like so far. It's basically a whole new intro. I would love your input!

Ayla was the kind of quiet beauty that didn’t need to say much to get noticed. Pale, smooth skin that practically glowed under soft lighting. Long black hair that always seemed perfectly messy, falling around her face in loose waves, like she’d just rolled out of bed looking that good. Her hazel eyes were big and striking, framed by thick lashes that gave her a soft, almost innocent look. 

She stood around 5’7”, with a body that made clothes work for her. Slim waist, full. C-cup chest, just enough curve in her hips and thighs to draw attention when she walked. She liked outfits that showed off her alluring beauty: tight crop tops, clingy skirts, cute little dresses that rode high on her legs; nothing too lewd, just hot in a way that felt natural. 

Ayla didn’t think of herself as one of those OnlyFans girls or an influencer. She had a modest page on a content platform and decent followings on her social media accounts. She posted nothing too crazy, just revealing outfits, cute poses, and the occasional cosplay that showed off her curves. Tight tops, thigh-highs, bunny ears, anime girl aesthetics. It was playful, suggestive even, but she never crossed the line into full-on lewd. Just enough to keep people looking—and paying. 

She made a little extra each month from her platform. Her regulars were mostly harmless. They tipped five, ten bucks here and there, left comments like “stunning” or “My queen.” Sometimes they’d ask for something spicier, but she’d politely decline and move on. It was easy money, and she had full control. She liked that.

Then one night, a new notification popped up.  

Tip: $50

“I want to fuck the shit out of you.”

No lead-in. No introduction. Just that.

Ayla blinked. For a second, she thought maybe she had misread it. But no, the words were as clear as day. She tapped the user profile. Blank avatar. No display name, just Ken 12456. No bio. No comments. Nothing. 

She let out a short laugh, somewhere between confused and amused. Most guys tried to flirt. This one went straight for the throat. 

She should have deleted it and reported him, maybe. But fifty bucks wasn’t nothing. And something about how unfiltered it was made her pause.

Ayla scoffed, shaking her head and brushing it off. Guys were always bold when money was involved. Still, as crude as it was, the fifty bucks went straight into her account, and she wasn’t about to complain. “Thanks for the donation, asshole,” she muttered with a dry smirk, already planning her next upload. 

That weekend, she posted a new set. A sexy cosplay—tight top with plenty of cleavage, thigh-highs, and a tiny pleated skirt that barely covered her ass when she moved it just right. It was cute, playful, and just enough to make her inbox start buzzing again. 

A sizable number of hearts. A “marry me.” The usual.

Then another tip came through. 

Tip: $25

“If I ever get my hands on you, sexy, I’d make you forget every guy you’ve ever been with. I’d fuck you so silly you’d beg. God, I would love to see you choking on my cock 🍆😈🥵.”

Ayla gasped, her eyes flying open as she covered her mouth with one hand. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered through her fingers, staring at the screen in utter disbelief.

There it was again. Same blank profile. Ken12456. Another generous tip, another vulgar fantasy. It wasn’t even 10 AM!

She blinked again, read it again, then exhaled sharply, unsure if she was more offended or shocked that it made her stomach flip just a little. 

“This guy is unhinged,” she said out loud, tossing her phone down on the bed. 

But she didn’t delete the message. 

And she didn’t block him either. 

A few days passed, and the tips kept coming.

Twenty here, thirty there, always with another filthy message attached. They were never subtle. Each one more vulgar and obscene than the last. Ayla kept telling herself it was nothing. Just some anonymous perv with a little too much money for their own good. She rolled her hazel eyes. Laughing sometimes. Shook her head and muttered, “Jesus, dude,” under her breath. 

But she never deleted the messages.

And slowly, something started to change. 

The shock wore off. The edge dulled. The filth didn’t feel quite repulsive anymore. She got used to them—these absurd, unfiltered fantasies showing up with every new tip. And after a while… they didn’t just amuse her.

They started to make her feel something else. 

Sometimes she’d read one, laugh it off, and feel her body react anyway. A little flush in her cheeks. A flutter in her lower belly. She hated that she noticed. Hated the imaginary voice she’d thought of behind those messages was starting to stick in her head. 

But the money was good, and she liked the money. 

So… she let it keep going.

Then one night, lying in bed in just a tank top and panties, scrolling through her phone with the lights off, another familiar notification came through. Bigger tip than usual—$75. The message with it wasn’t just vulgar this time. It was direct.

“You gonna keep ignoring me forever, sweetheart? I know you’re reading these. I’ll send you another generous gift if you reply 😉.”

Ayla stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the message. 

Her instinct was to ignore him. Just leave it. He was her personal creep, her anonymous little piggy bank. That’s how it worked. She posted cute pics, he threw money and said gross shit, and she kept the wall up. No interaction. No connection. Safe.

But still… he’d tipped her a lot. Way more than anyone else. He was relentless, not really mean, but still. Just horny, gross, and weirdly persistent. 

She bit her lip, weighing it in her head. She knew she shouldn’t. She owed him nothing. 

But after all that?

Maybe he deserved… something.

Even if it was just a few words. Just enough to keep him spending. Nothing more. 

Ayla sighed, straightening herself out in bed, resting her back against the headboard as she sat. Her heart thumped in her chest as her thumbs hovered over her keyboard, and she began to type. 

She quickly wrote something out of the top of her head. Nothing flirty. Nothing too inviting. Just enough.

“You’re… certainly enthusiastic. I’ve never had someone send me that many tips before. I appreciate your support.”

She stared at the message for a second, then hit send before she could second-guess herself. The little ping of the delivery made her stomach flutter. 

She watched the screen, unsure of what to expect. Part of her figured he’d blow up with another barrage of filthy nonsense. But the typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then popped back up again as if he were actually thinking about what to say. 

Finally, a new message came through. 

“About time you respond to me. I knew you’d cave eventually. And trust me, I’ve only just started. You’re worth every cent, Ayla 😏.”

Her cheeks blushed with a mix of embarrassment and something warmer. Her breath quickened, and her chest pounded. His boldness was something she could at least admire. Most men wouldn’t dare to try what this mystery fan would. 

Ayla set her phone on her chest and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell she’d just started. 

Not before long, her phone buzzed again.

Tip: $40

“As promised. Thanks for replying, sweetheart. You don’t know how fucking sexy it is watching you pretend I’m not getting under your skin.”

Ayla let out a slow breath, the corner of her mouth twitching. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, he was right, whether he knew it or not. But she was sure he did. 

She typed back quickly, still trying to play it cool. 

“You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?”

His reply came almost instantly.

“Yeah? And yet you’re still here, happily accepting my generous offer.”

Ayla’s lips pursed into a line as her brows furrowed. Right again.

Another message followed soon after. 

“You’re probably wearing almost nothing in bed while talking to me, aren’t you?”

She blinked at the screen, her eyes angling down at her current attire, which he correctly predicted. He was annoyingly perceptive. Or lucky. Either way, he wasn’t wrong… again.

“You don’t know what I’m wearing.”

“I know you’re not dressed to ignore me 😏.”

Ayla shifted under her blanket, suddenly hyper-aware of the way her thin tank top clung to her chest. Her nipples were poking through the farbic. She crossed her legs, squeezing slightly. She hated how easily he worked her up. 

Another buzz. 

Tip: $25

“I’m picturing you now. Lying there with your phone in one hand and the other slowly drifting under your panties.”

Ayla’s breath caught in her throat. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, heat pooling low in her belly. Her thigh pressed tighter, her skin tingling. She could feel herself getting wet, and the worst part? He hadn’t even said that graphic, not yet at least.

“You’re going to get yourself reported,” she typed, her heart racing. “You keep talking like that, I’ll block you. Or worse.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You sound awfully sure of that.”

“Oh, I’m certain. You like the attention. I’ve been sending you those same messages for almost a week now. And yet, you still haven’t done anything. You’re laying there flushed and horny right now, happily taking my tips like the good girl you are 😏.”

Ayla didn’t respond. Her fingers trembled slightly as she read and reread the message. Her legs shifted under the blanket, thighs brushing together. Her fingers hovered, unsure whether to type something back or just toss her phone across the room. 

She hated how well he read her. Hated that he wasn’t wrong.

She had to let it go on. She had to keep reading. She hadn’t blocked him. She hadn’t reported anything. And now she was lying in bed, half-naked, her phone in one hand and the other resting a little too close to her waistband. 

Ayla swallowed, her cheeks burning as she reread the message. 

She felt her pulse everywhere—in her throat, in her chest, and pulsing hot between her legs. Her body was betraying her, and she knew it. He was pushing. Teasing. Trying to tip her past her boundaries. 

And the worst part? 

It was working. 

She hadn’t even touched herself yet, but she was already wet. She knew if she responded now, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Another message appeared on her screen, smooth and cocky. 

“You’re quiet again, baby. That usually means I’m right. Bet you’re squirming under those blankets. Why don’t you send me a little something? Just a quick pic. Right now. I want to see what I’ve been tipping for.”

Ayla rolled her eyes, her inner thighs rubbing tighter as she felt her panties grow even more moist with her arousal. 

“I don’t do special requests,” she typed. “You know that.”

His response came almost immediately.

Tip: $60

“Yeah, but I think you’ll make an exception. Just one. For me. I’ve earned it, haven’t I? 😚”

Ayla let out a long sigh, her body sliding off her headboard and sinking onto her mattress. Her screen glowed in the dim room, lighting up the amused twist on her lips. 

“You have way too much money for your own good,” she replied. “You think you can just get anything you want because your pockets are a little deep?”

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly. 

“No. I think I can get what I want because you want to give it to me.”

Ayla blinked, her cheeks burning red. 

“The money just makes it easier for you to pretend this isn’t turning you on.”

She stared at the message, her lush lips parted slightly. Her fingers curled around her phone. She wanted to deny him, but he wasn’t wrong. 

She told herself that she was in control, that he was simply just a creep who happened to be a smooth talker… and had enough money to spend on her. She had the power here. She wouldn’t be bought out to break her own rule, right?

But his words were crawling under her skin, hot, shameless, and sharp. And the more she continued to engage with him, the more she wanted to prove him wrong—or prove him right. She wasn’t sure which anymore. 

Another message popped up. 

Tip: $40 

Ayla let out a strained groan and buried her face into her pillow, muffling a frustrated scream. “This fucking guy,” she muttered, kicking her feet under the blanket.

“Still waiting. Don’t make me beg.”

She huffed loudly, cheeks already warm as she sat up against the headboard again. “Unbelievable,” she whispered to herself, grabbing her phone and flipping her camera on.

Just one. 

Her tank top hung loose over her chest. She tugged it down a bit, just enough for a deep line of cleavage to show. Nothing X-rated, but something different from what she normally did. She knew this would drive him crazy. She angled her head, gave a soft, teasing pout, and snapped the shot. 

She stared at it for a second, then hit send before she could change her mind. 

“There. You better not share this, or everyone is going to start asking.”

Her heart pumped fast as the message was delivered. She could already imagine the smirk forming on his side of the screen. 

Notice!

The Massage Therapy short story is now available for the supporter tier!

Tempting the Unknown Update

I'm currently reworking certain aspects of chapter 1 as of now, after giving it a reread. The story will generally be the same except for the interaction between Ayla and Kent have. I think this rework will be a bit better.

Stay tuned!

Art Commission Update!

Hey guys, I'm working on getting another 3D art piece made. Here's what characters I plan on doing.

• Sarah x Albert

• Nora x Hank

• TBD: Probably do a poll for this one.

Here's a link to the artist I'm using: Syna

Top Brass Ch. 02 (Beta)

Here's a preview of the next chapter of my sci-fi femdom story. I would encourage you guys to read it if you're into that sort of stuff.

Here's a link to the first chapter: Top Brass Ch. 01

Schedule So Far

Hey guys! So I'm taking a small break from my mainline series to write some of my other stories. I'm currently feeling around what I want to write, but here are the ones I'm currently working on now. This schedule may be subject to change in the near future.

• Top Brass 2

• Tempting the Unknown 2

Massage Therapy: Short Story

Summary: Goro invites Ashlyn over to his place at the end of her shift.

Ashlyn leaned against the counter of the nurse’s station, her hazel eyes dulled with exhaustion as she read through the last of her shift notes. Her curly black hair was pulled up into a messy bun, strands clinging to her caramel-toned face from a long day spent rushing between patients. Her fitted navy scrubs clung to every curve of her body—her full breasts strained subtly beneath the V-neck, and her shapely hips and thick thighs shifted restlessly as she adjusted her weight. She was drained, an overworked goddess. 

She was just about to return to her last patient when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Curious, she tugged it free with one hand, glancing down at the screen.

Goro: “You want to fuck tonight?”

Ashlyn’s cheeks and lower belly burned with a surge of arousal. She reread the message, her lips parting slightly, her chest rising. Her fingers clenched around her phone as the image of him invaded her mind. His bony bony hands, that filthy grin, and that fat, veiny cock, always helped her get into the mood.

She bit her lip and replied with a single word.

Ashlyn: “Where?”

Seconds later, another buzz.

Goro: “My place. But I plan on keeping you all night… your husband won’t be home, right?”

Her pussy pulsed. A warm gush of arousal seeping into her panties as her knees shifted slightly, subtly rubbing together behind the counter. God, the idea of being kept, of being used all night by that depraved old man, made her breath come fast.

Her lips curled into a sly smirk as she typed a reply.

Ashlyn: “He usually comes home late. But I can always make an excuse.”

She stared at the message before sending it, savoring the anticipation curling in her belly. Then she hit send. 

Ashlyn tucked her phone away and let out a shaky exhale, her thighs pressing tighter, the slick warmth between them making it harder to concentrate. Her shift wasn’t over yet, but mentally, she’d already clocked out. 

All she could think about was Goro, her elderly Japanese lover who seduced her all those months ago. That fateful day when he convinced her to let him give her a massage felt like ages ago. Her mind was filled with all the naughty things they’d do together later. The way he’d fuck her, fill her up in all the ways her husband couldn’t until she was trembling, drenched, and ruined made her so horny and excited. 

Though the last hour of her shift was going to feel like an eternity. 

-

Ashlyn pulled into the dimly lit parking lot, bringing her car to a slow stop in one of the open spots near a lamppost. The apartment complex ahead of her looked old and worn down, with stained walls, rusted stair railings, and flickering lights that cast eerie shadows on the cracked concrete. Definitely a place she expected a person like Goro to live in since he owned his own massage parlor. It had this sketchy, seedy vibe that made her glance over her shoulder twice. But oddly enough, it also made her strangely aroused. 

She sat there for a moment, the engine still running, phone glowing in her hand. She unlocked it and opened the last message he sent.

Goro: “Bldg 4, 2nd floor. Door 205. Backside.”

With a soft exhale, she turned off her car and grabbed her purse, adjusting her coat to cover the cling top and sweats she’d changed into back at the hospital. Her heart was pumping fast, and her panties were already embarrassingly damp. She’d been wet ever since he sent that text during her shift. 

Before stepping out, she pulled up her messages again and opened her husband’s threat. 

Ashlyn: “Hey, babe, just got called in for a night shift. One of the nurses flaked last minute. Don’t wait up, I’ll be home in the morning.”

Sent. Delivered. Read. 

She watched the “typing” bubble pop up for a second, then disappear. No reply. Probably too busy or just didn’t care, as always. But it worked either way. She slipped her phone into her purse and stepped out into the cool night air. 

Traversing the complex felt like walking into another world. She passed old laundry rooms with creepy fluorescent lights, a cracked vending machine, and a row of apartments with barely drawn blinds. Her footsteps echoed softly as she climbed a narrow metal staircase. Her skin prickled with tension, but it wasn’t fear. It was anticipation. 

She rounded the walkway to the back of the building, her eyes scanning for the number 205.

And there it was. 

The door looked old, paint chipped, a worn doormat curled at its edges. She paused in front of it, her breath coming shallow, thighs clenched tight under her coat. Her pussy throbbed, wetter than it had been all day. She could feel the heat pooling there, and the slick fabric of her panties sticking to her folds. 

Her finger hovered over the doorbell, and she pressed it. 

She didn’t have to wait long before she heard the door unlock. It creaked open slowly, revealing Goro standing in the soft glow of the overhead light. He wore nothing but a thin, loosely tied blue silk robe. The fabric clung to his wiry frame, draping over his shoulders and falling open just enough to hint at the lean, sinewy muscle beneath. His chest was dusted with sparse gray hair, his legs were bare, the hem of the robe brushing just above his knobby knees. He stood barefoot on the worn floor, his bony toes curled slightly against the carpet.

His weathered face lit up at the sight of his caramel goddess. That familiar, wrinkled grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, his small eyes narrowing with quiet satisfaction. “Ah… Ashlyn,” he said in his soft, raspy Japanese accent, the syllables of her name rolling off his tongue. “So beautiful tonight… You come just like I hoped.”

Ashlyn smiled faintly, her stomach fluttering with a mix of affection and arousal. “Hi, Goro,” she murmured, stepping forward and casually pressing her soft lips against his. The kiss was brief, familiar, and intimate. Something they’d done many times before, as if she belonged there now, as if this was part of their routine. 

He hummed with delight, eyes glinting as he reached for her waist. “Come, come. Take off shoes. Make yourself at home.”

She stepped inside, letting him guide her in, and the door shut behind them. 

His apartment was small and dimly lit, cozy in its own way, but far from perfect. The place had a distinct Japanese aesthetic. Cultural mats covered portions of the floor, paper lanterns hung from the ceiling corners, and a small shrine stood quietly near the back wall. But there was so much clutter: folded laundry left on a chair, empty tea cups scattered about near the sink, and the faint, musky scent of incense and something more primal hung in the air. The aroma hit immediately, thick and heavy, and her pussy clenched at the scent she now associated with him. 

Ashlyn’s eyes scanned the room as she slid her coat off and took off her shoes near the door. Her belly churned, and the damp heat between her legs made her shift subtly in place. 

It was messy and a little grimy, but it was unmistakably his. 

And she was already dripping. 

Ashlyn glanced around with a soft smile. “It’s… kinda nice,” she said, her tone playful. “Very you. Has character.”

Goro chuckled under his breath, padding toward her with that sly glint in his eyes. “Character, hm? I take that as compliment,” he replied, his accent thick and voice low. 

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them and pressed her back against the wall. Her breath hitched as the cool surface met her spine, but then his mouth met hers, and things spiraled.

Their lips crashed together in a wet, hungry smack. Ashlyn moaned into the kiss, her hands instinctively sliding up his sides beneath the open folds of his robe, feeling his naked body beneath. His tongue pushed past her lips, slowly and deliberately, tasting her sweetness, claiming her. He smelled like incense and musk. Her knees wobbled as his male scent filled her senses. 

Goro broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “I been thinking about this all day…” Then he kissed her again, deeper this time, one hand cupping her ass through her sweat pants, the other palming the side of her face. She gasped softly, her thighs pressing together as the heat between them grew. 

“Come,” he muttered, pulling away and taking her hand. His grip was firm, his stride slow and eager as he led her down the short hall to his bedroom. 

The room was small. Barely big enough for the modest bed shoved into the far corner. A single lamp glowed on a bamboo nightstand. There was a futon mattress on the floor rolled up tightly, and a folded yukata tossed over a chair. Simple yet lived-in. 

Ashlyn stepped inside, slipping her purse onto a nearby table, her hazel eyes still observing the tight, but intimate space, when she heard the soft click of the door behind her.

She turned her head slightly and saw Goro’s hand sliding the lock into place. He looked at her over his shoulder, eyes dark with carnal lust.

“You stay here tonight,” the old man said, voice thick with promise. 

Ashlyn swallowed, heat rising in her chest. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

Goro licked his greedy lips, his gaze raking over her body with lecherous precision. With a quiet huff, he undid the loose knot at his waist, and the silk robe slid open and fell to the floor. Ashlyn’s lush lips slightly parted with satisfaction the moment her eyes dropped to her prize. 

His cock was already hard and standing proud, thick and veiny, jutting out from his lean, wiry frame. It was always obscene on him, far too big for a man his age and build. But she’d felt it inside her enough times to know it wasn’t just for show. It was real, and it ruined her every time.

Ashlyn salaciously licked her lips, her eyes burning with desire. Without a word, she reached for the hem of her fitted top and peeled it up over her head, revealing her smooth caramel skin and full, perky bare breasts beneath. Her nipples were already stiff. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her sweats and slowly slid them down her curvy hips and thighs, taking her panties with them. A strand of wetness clung to her inner thigh as she peeled her socks off with her pretty, white painted toes. 

Naked now, her skin flushed with heat, she walked toward her lover.

They met at the edge of the bed, mouths locked together again, messier this time. Their teeth grazed, lips were wet, and tongues danced. Goro grabbed her ass with both hands, pulling her hips against his as their bodies ground together. Ashlyn giggled playfully against his mouth, her slick clean-shaven pussy brushing against his thigh.  

They stumbled back onto the bed, barely managing to stay upright as they collapsed together. Goro lay back with a groan of satisfaction, his big cock standing tall against his stomach, twitching slightly with primal need.

Ashlyn crawled between his skinny legs, strands of her hair falling in waves as she dipped her head. Her lush lips brushed his leaking tip, soft and teasing, before she slowly wrapped them around him and took him into her welcoming mouth. The old man hissed through his teeth, his bony fingers threading through her curls. 

She bobbed her head gently, using her tongue to swirl and stroke along his throbbing shaft, while adding skillful circular motions that made his mind melt. His size stretched her lips wide, her jaw already feeling somewhat sore, but she loved the feeling of his heat against her tongue. 

As she sucked, her free hand drifted down between her legs. Her slender fingers slipped through her wet folds and moaned more around his cock as she teased her clit. The pleasure shot through her in waves, her fingers curling slightly as she started to pump them into herself. 

Goro let out a deep, guttural groan as his hips bucked upward. 

“Ahhh… yes, Ashlyn… just like that… hai… oohhh,” he muttered in his thick accent, his voice low and full of hunger. 

Ashlyn kept going, the wet sounds of slurping and the slick squelch of her fingers in her pussy filling the small room. She wanted to please him, to tease him, but she also wanted him inside her. Soon.

Goro’s head lolled back against the pillow, his beady eyes fluttering shut as deep, heavy moans escaped his throat. His bony toes spread and curled against the sheets, twitching with pleasure as Ashlyn’s warm, wet mouth slid up and down his thick shaft.

“Ahhh… sugoi… so good…” he rasped, voice strained, his accent more pronounced through his pleasure. “Kimochi ii… Ashlyn… aaah…”

Each slurp echoed in the cramped room, obscene, wet, and desperate. Ashlyn glanced up, watching his face twist in ecstasy as she dragged her tongue along his veiny length. But her own need was burning now. Her thighs were slick, her pussy clenching around her fingers as she teased herself. She wanted him in her. Now.

She pulled off with a lewd pop, thick strings of saliva connected from her swollen lips to his pulsating top as she sat back on her heels. Goro groaned in protest, but he knew better things were to come as he watched her climb up onto him. 

Ashlyn swung a leg over his narrow hips, straddling him, her body hot and flushed in the dim light. She reached up and tugged the band from her messy bun, letting her thick black curls fall in wild waves around her face and shoulders. Her hazel eyes locked onto his, gleaming with lust. 

She wrapped one hand around the base of his slick cock and gave it a slow pump, rubbing the tip along her soaking slit. Goro let out a shaky breath, gripping her hips with eager fingers.

Ashlyn didn’t tease for long. 

With a soft, breathy moan, she began to lower herselft, the head of his cock parting ehr slick folds. Inch by inch, she sank down onto him, her walls stretching wide, clenching greedily around his length. 

Her eyes fluttered back. “Fuck…” she whispered, her hips twitching as she took him deeper. “So big…”

Beneath her, Goro groaned through his teeth, his hands tightening around her waist as he felt her familiar warmth envelope him. 

“You feel… incredible…” he uttered. “So tight… always so tight…”

Alshyn let her hands rest on his chest, steadying herself as she sank all the way to the basem seated fully on his cock. Her breath came in shaky gasps, her thighs shuddering from the stretch and overwhelming pleasure pulsing deep within her core. 

She stayed still for a moment, adjusting, savoring the feeling of being completely filled by her hung, Japanese bull.

Then, with a slow roll of her hips, she began to ride.

Ashlyn moved in slow, deliberate circles as she eased herself up and down his thick cock. The bed beneath them creaked with every lewd motion, old springs groaning under the rhythm of their bodies. Her caramel thighs flexed with each bounce, her full curves bearing down on Goro’s smaller, wiry frame.

He groaned again, his wrinkled hands gripping her waist at first, but quickly sliding down her her plush ass. His fingers spread across her cheeks, kneading the soft flesh as he watched the way her body took him so deeply. 

“Augh… yes… yes… Ashlyn…” he moaned, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to her back entrance, teasing her while she rode him with growing urgency. The contrast between her curvy, strong frame and his lean, bony body only made things more sinful. She completely engulfed him, overpowering his size, yet letting him take control in all the ways that mattered. 

Ashlyn leaned forward, her breath hot and heavy against his lips. Her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples brushing his skin, slick with sweat. Their eyes met, half-lidded and wild. Without a word, she lowered her mouth onto his and kissed him hard.

Their lips met in a wet, starved clash, tongues immediately dancing in sync. Goro groaned into her as she moaned softly back, sloppily swapping saliva between them. Her hips never stopped moving; grinding down, milking his cock with each pass. 

He squeezed her ass tighter, guiding her rhythmn, encouraging her to fuck him deeper, harder. The creaking of the bed grew louder, filling the room along with the sound of flesh meeting and their muffled moans between kisses. 

Ashlyn pulled back, panting heavily. “You like being under me, huh?” she murmured, her voice breathy and teasing.

Goro’s smile was wicked, his hands still full of her ass. “I love it… You feel like heaven,” he growled, thrusting his hips to meet her, making her gasp as he hit just the right spot inside her. 

Ashlyn whimpered and dove back into his mouth, kissing him fiercely as she rode him faster. Her pussy clinging around him as if begging for release. 

Her breath hitched, her moans rising in a pitch as her hips began to stutter. Her white painted nails dug into Goro’s chest, her thighs trembling as she bounced faster, grinding down on him with desperate, lustful thrusts. The heat in her belly surged to its peak. Then, she broke. 

“F-fuck—Goro!” she cried out, her voice shaking as her orgasm ripped through her. “Ouuuuhhhhhhh!

Her pussy clenched violently around his cock like a coiling anaconda, milking him, fluttering in mind-melting waves. A gush of wet cream spilled out around him, dripping down his shaft and onto his heavy balls, soaking his crotch. Her entire body quivered, and her moans turned into soft whimpers as her climax pulsed through her like an electric current. 

“Gah… so tight… so good… sugoi…” Goro groaned, barely able to hold himself back from spewing his load inside her right then and there. The sight of her cumming all over him, the fee of her hot walls spasming around his cock was all too much. 

He grabbed her hips firmly, lifting her off his cock with surprsing strength leaving a wet, sticky pop. She gasped, still shaking, but let him move her without resistance. Her body fell forward onto the mattress, arms trembling as she pushed herself onto her elbows. Her ass rose high, glistening with sweat, her folds still twitching and wet with her juices. 

Goro got behind her immediately, his bony hands gripping her hips with urgency. He hudied his cock back to her entrance, rubbing his head through her messy slit before lining it up again. 

“Ready for more?” he asked. 

Ashlyn only nodded, biting her lip and looking over her shoulder, her curls damp and clinging around her flushed face. 

He pushed in, slow and deep. 

“Mhhmm, fuck, yes…” she hissed, her fingers gripping the sheets as he filled her again. Her pussy welcomed him back eagerly, slick and throbbing. 

Goro began to thrust, hip slapping against her shapely ass as he fucked her from behind. The bed rocked with their passion, the headboard tapping against the wall. His fingers dug into her smooth skin, pulling her back onto him with each deep stroke. 

Ashlyn moaned into the mattress, her back sexily arching as her boobs bounced with every thrust. “God… yes… ah ah ah… fuck me, baby…”

He groaned in response, his pace increasing, the sound of their slapping skin and heavy breaths echoing off the walls. 

Their bodies kept clapping together in a perfect rhythm they had perfected ever since they started this affair. Goro’s hoips slammed against Ashlyn’s ass, his cock driving deep into her slick, tight pussy from behind. The messy sounds of sex filled the air, joined by the humidity of their hot bodies consuming the small space around them.

“Hmm, ouuhh… give me that cock, Goro… fuck me harder… deeper…” Ashlyn panted, glancing over her shoulder with her lips parted, sweat trickling down her temple. “You like this pussy, old man?” 

“Ahhh… hai, hai… so good… so fucking good,” Goro grunted, his voice thick and slurred with lust. “Kimochi ii… Ashlyn no manko… so warm… so wet…”

Ashlyn moaned loudly at the filthy praise, her walls fluttering around him. “Hmmm, look what you’re doing to me… You made me cum so hard, baby. I fucking creamed for you… You’re the only one that can do that to me…”

He snarled, grasping her hips tightly, then suddenly leaned forward and grabbed her arms from behind. 

“Hm? O-oh?” she gasped, caught off guard. 

Without answering, Goro straightened up and pulled her body with him, forcing her to arch her back against his chest. He hooked his arms under hers and locked them behind her back, his wrists trapping hers as he held her in place. 

Ashlyn’s belly fluttered with excitement, being pinned like that—her legs spread, his cock buried deep inside her as she moaned uncontrollably. 

“Hmmm… yes… hold me just like that. Fuck, Goro—what are you doing to me?”

“Shhh… just feel,” he whispered hotly into her ear, his breath tickling her neck. “You’re my slut… I take control.”

He thrust harder now, pounding up into her from behind as he held her arms in place, her body trapped against his skinny old body. Her tits swayed wildy with each connecting motion, her nipples stiff and sensitive from the friction. His cock hit deeper in this angle, rubbing agianst the sweet spot that made her toes curl.

Ashlyn moaned shamelessly, her voice high and sultry. “F-fuck! Don’t stop! Goro, you’re going to make me cum again! Ouuuuhhh!”

“Unnn… Ashlyn… kawaii bitch… you’re mine tonight,” he grunted, his voice labored and husky. 

Her cries grew louder, her entire body shaking in his grasp. Her arms were still locked behind her, her back arched, her thick thighs quivering as he pounded up into her from behind with relentless force. Every stroke hit that perfect, devastating spot inside her, pushing her past the edge once more. 

“Ahh—fuck! I’m cumming! Fucckkkkkkk!” she screamed, her voice cracking as her pussy clamped down around his cock.

A rush of slick cream gushed from her, soaking his shaft as her second orgasm tore through her. Her legs gave out under her, but Goro held her steady, panting against the back of her neck with a strained growl. 

“Augh… gah… Ashlyn…” he hissed, his control crumbling. 

He released her arms and let her fall forward onto the bed, her chest hitting the mattress with a breathless moan. In one smooth motion, Goro shifted, his knees planting on either side of her thighs as he crouched low, feet braced on the mattress, gripping her waist tightly. 

He fucked her hard and fast, using the new angle to bury himself even deeper, slamming against her ass with every furious thrust. 

Ashlyn moaned into the sheets, lost in the overstimulation. “God—yes—keep fucking me! Give it to me, Goro! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

His voice broke into ragged Japanese murmurs, his face scrunching in bliss and strain. “Kuso… so good… can’t hold it!”

Then, his body jerked. His thrusts slowed and deepened, his back arched, and a guttural moan ripped through his throat. 

“EEAAAYYYAAAHHHHHHH—ASHLYN!”

His heavy balls tightened, then contracted hard. He shoved himself to the hilt inside her, driving his cock as deep as it would go and came. Thick hot ropes of cum flooded her pussy, coating her insides, filling her completely. He stayed there, twitching, groaning, his hands digging into her hips as he emptied himself inside her. 

Ashlyn gasped, feeling his warmth pour into her, her pussy still pulsing as if milking every last drop.

Goro slowly slumped forward, panting heavily against her back, his cock still buried deep inside her soaked, quivering cunt. 

“Such a good fuck,” he whispered, giving her ass a playful spank. “I’m not done with you yet…”

-

Some time passed in the warm, musky haze of Goro’s dim bedroom. The sweat on their bodies had somewhat dried, their breaths had steadied, and the tension between her legs had since melted away, but she still craved for more. 

She lay on her side now, her back pressed against Goro’s bony chest, his thin arms wrapped possessively around her torso. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the gentle creak of the bed as Goro moved again, his cock sliding back inside her slick, leaking folds from behind.

Ashlyn exhaled a shaky breath, eyelids fluttering as she curved her back slightly, giving her Japanese lover a better angle. “Yes… Just like that, Goro,” she purred, a soft moan slipping from her lips as his hips began to rock into her.

He groaned low in his throat, his hands lazily gliding over her stomach, then down to her hips. The thrusts were slow now, deep and unhurried, each one savoring the way she wrapped around his cock.

“You feel so good,” he muttered against the back of her neck, kissing her nape. “Soft… warm… addicted to this…”

Ashlyn smiled lazily, her breath catching again when he angled just right, his tip pressing against her cervix. “You say that every time…”

“Because it’s true,” he chuckled, slowly grinding into her again. “You were made for me… and Layla too, hehe.”

She rolled her eyes even as she moaned in response to a deep thrust hitting her weak spot. “Ugh… of course you’d bring her up while you’re still inside me.”

Goro cackled, shameless and smug. “Why not? Mmm… both of you… so perfect. I think about you all the time. When can I fuck you together again?”

Ashlyn huffed out a breath, the amusement not quite hiding her arousal. “Didn’t you just see her like… two days ago?”

“Yes,” he said plainly, kissing the back of her shoulder. “Not enough. I want you both again. Soon.”

Ashlyn shook her head, gasping softly as he rolled his hips and pushed a little deeper. Her walls hugging him tighter. “You’re insatiable, you dirty old bastard.”

“Maybe,” Goro whispered into her ear. “But you like it, no?”

She didn’t argue, her fingers slid between her thighs, stroking herself as he continued to fuck her from behind, their bodies locked in a slow, inimate spoon. It was filthy, tender, and it was exactly what she needed. 

Their bodies began to pick up speed, their sensual movements giving way to something needier, rougher. Goro’s grip tightened on her hip as he thrust harder, each stroke deeper, more deliberate, his pelvis smacking softly against her ass with every motion. Ashlyn moaned, her fingers still gliding over her clit as her body rocked with his.

“F-fuck… Goro…” she breathed, arching into him, the wet slap of their bodies growing louder. “Harder… don’t stop…”

Goro grunted into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Mmm… you want it again? Such a needy slut.”

“Yes—just like that—god—” Her voice cracked into a whimper as her third orgasm built rapidly. Her body tensed, her legs curling slightly as he pussy clenched down on his cock once more. 

She came again, softer this time, her whole body pulsing as pleasure rolled through her like a slow wave. Goro wasn’t far behind.

His strokes grew shorter, heavier, and more urgent. “Ashlyn… I’m… ngghh—”

She could feel it. The way his cock throbbed inside her, how his hips stuttered before sinking balls deep with one last, shaking thrust. He groaned low in his chest as his cock twitched, spilling his hot, thick ropes of cum deep inside her for the second time that night. 

Ashlyn purred softly, her hand falling away from her aching clit as her body relaxed into his. Goro wrapped an arm around her chest and held her close, his breathing still jagged in her ear. 

A quiet silence settled between them. Only the hum of the fan and the slowing beat of their hearts remained. 

Ashlyn blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “God… I could go again,” she murmured, her lips curving into a tired smile.

Goro chuckled, his hand idly groping her soft breasts. “I’d keep going all night… if you didn’t look like you're about to pass out.”

She laughed lightly. “Yeah… I guess that twelve-hour shift caught up to me after all…”

He kissed her shoulder, pulling her tighter against his chest. “Sleep, Ashlyn… we still have all morning…”

Her eyes drifted shut, her smile still faint on her lips. Filled, spent, and finally at peace, she let exhaustion pull her under, cradled in the arms of the one man who ruined her in the best possible way…

Update!

There's going to be a slight delay to the Massage Therapy bonus chapter. I'll get it out Monday evening or Tuesday. Apologies.

Page Notice

I've updated the official library for Foreign Temptations. All the links for the chapters, bonus chapters, and blonded versions can be found there.

It will be found on the collections page.

Foreign Temptations: Free Member Links

Chapter 4 is now available here!

Foreign Temptations Ch. 03: Rework (Official)

Author's Note: Here's the new, reworked chapter 3. My previous chapter 3 of this is still canon, but more so a bonus chapter now. the next part will likely be the finale for this story.

The weeks passed in a blur of tangled sheets, desperate moans, and the constant rhythmic creaking of Raj’s bed against the wall. 

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

If Cassandra wasn’t working on her laptop, she was beneath him, on top of him, bent over the kitchen counter, pressed against the shower tiles, or wherever Raj could have her. And whenever he wasn’t out running errands or handling whatever business he had, he was on her, stripping her bare, making her forget about anything else but how good he could make her feel. 

Their bodies moved on instinct now, the sexual tension between them was so constant, so insatiable, that even a mere look could set them off. 

She’d sit cross-legged on the couch, typing away, and Raj would stroll by, his dark, beady eyes filled with lust. One teasing smirk, one brush of his fingers against her exposed thigh, and suddenly she was sprawled across the cushions, her laptop shoved aside, his cock deep inside her pussy as she moaned his name. 

Or she’d be in the kitchen, making tea, when she’d feel his smaller, wiry frame press up behind her, his breath hot against her neck as his hands wandered beneath her flimsy clothes. “You can’t be that busy, beautiful,” he’d murmur, slipping her panties down before bending her over the counter, making her forget whatever the hell she was even doing in the first place. 

Every surface in the apartment became their playground. 

There was no restraint, no slowing down. 

They’d wake up naked, and before Cassandra could even stretch, Raj would roll on top of her, his Indian hog already hard and pressing against her soaked entrance. She gasped as he slid inside her, still half-asleep and sore from the night before. As exhausted as she was all the time, she wanted it, craved it, moaning his name as the morning sun peered through the curtains.

And at night? 

Cassandra would collapse onto the bed, spent from the hours of filthy sex, only for this lecherous old man to pull her back against his chest, his lips on her shoulder, his cock pressing insistently between her thighs. “One more time…” he’d whisper, his bony hands gripping her hips. “I know you can give me one more…”

And she always did.

Every day was like this. Time was blurred together, marked only by the sound of their sweaty bodies colliding, the heat of his skin against hers, the way he made her moan and beg, how easily he could turn her into a writhing mess beneath him. 

Cassandra knew this was dangerous.

The longer this went on, the harder it would be to walk away. She still had a life back in the States: friends, family… Jason.

But every time Raj grabbed her, fucked her, claimed her like she was already his.

She began to stop caring.

-

Raj always pulled out. That was their deal, though sometimes, Cassandra felt the heated temptation just to let him stay inside, to let him fill her with his hot, heavy load like he had in the beginning.

It was reckless. Stupid. Risky.

She couldn’t afford to make that mistake, to let him irreversibly connect the two of them.

As tempting as it was, she couldn’t risk getting pregnant by another man, especially not him. It would cause too many problems she wasn’t ready to face. This was supposed to be a fling, nothing more.

But fuck, when Raj had her pinned beneath him, his breath ragged, his body shuddering as he pulled out at the last possible second, spilling hot ropes across her stomach, her thighs, her ass, she almost wanted to tell him just this once.

She never did. 

Instead, she’d lie there, panting, skin sticky with his release, watching as Raj smirked down at her, his fingers lazily tracing the mess he’d made.

“Hmm, that was a close one,” he’d murmur, dragging his thumb across his cum before pressing it against her soft lips. “One of these days, you’re going to break that silly rule of yours.”

And every time, she’d simply smirk back, sucking his finger into her mouth, tasting him, teasing him, reminding him that she was in control of that one thing.

But outside of the apartment, outside of their little secret world, Cassandra played her part well. 

Jason was none the wiser. 

Their conversations were the same: soft, sweet, normal. She still said all the right things, smiled when they talked, and kept up the perfect fiancé facade. She knew it was wrong to lie, but the addictive thrill of her secret affair with this foreign man kept her shackled in her depravity. 

While Jason thought she was lonely, waiting patiently for the world to return to normal, she was actually being railed by the old man who took her in. 

Every time she told Jason she missed him, Raj was likely behind her, sliding her panties down.

Every time she sent a heart emoji, her mouth was probably wrapped around Raj’s cock, moaning against his thick, throbbing length.

Every time Jason told her he loved her, she was tangled in another man’s sheets, silently mouthing another man’s name as she got fucked silly. 

Cassandra should have felt more guilty. Should have stopped this before it went too far. But she rationalized that this was merely a fling, something to keep her sane during these uneasy times.  

That was merely a crutch she leaned on now. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had already gone too far. She enjoyed this far too much to regret a damn thing. 

With COVID restrictions finally lifting, Cassandra had the opportunity to start the process of leaving. But instead of packing, sorting through paperwork, getting vaccinated, and making arrangements to get back home to Jason, she stalled. 

She told herself it was just logistics, just waiting for the right timing, but deep down, she knew the truth. 

She wasn’t ready to leave.

Raj had her hooked.

The fact that he fucked her in a possessive and relentless manner, as if he owned her, was too intoxicating for her to give up. The times she thought about making real efforts to leave, Raj would pull her into his lap, his bony hands sliding beneath her clothes, his cock already hard and pressing against her, and suddenly, her plans didn’t seem so urgent anymore, and she would procrastinate further.

So, she lied. 

She lied to Jason, telling him the process was slow, that there were bureaucratic delays, and that flights were still complicated. 

Cassandra reassured him, telling him she was fine and saying all the right things to keep him from suspecting something. All while she spent her nights with Raj’s cock buried deep inside her pussy, moaning his name instead of her fiancé’s. 

Jason was understanding for the most part. But he was becoming frustrated again. Their small arguments began to pile up, giving Cassandra more of an excuse to stay longer. 

He’d question her delays, ask for updates, and press for details she didn’t always have. “You said your paperwork was processing. How long does it usually take?” “Or did you get your vaccine yet? Things should be easier when you do that.” His voice wasn’t accusing, but the persistence chipped away at her already eroding patience. 

“I told you, Jason,” she said one night over the phone, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. “It’s still backed up. Vaccines are only available to citizens right now, so I have to wait. And even if I did get my vaccine, the government is still making it difficult for anyone to enter or leave the country.”

He sighed. “R-right… I just miss you, babe. I want you to come back.”

Cassandra bit her lip, her blue eyes drifting toward the hallway where Raj was surely listening from the kitchen. “Yeah, I miss you too,” she murmured, barely meaning it.

After they hung up, she stood silently for a moment, staring at her blank phone screen. Then she peeled off her shorts, letting them drop to her feet, and made her way out of their shared room to the living room where Raj was waiting on the couch wearing nothing but his tight, white underwear. He stretched his wiry old body across the cushions with a teasing, knowing expression on his face, knowing what was soon to come. 

The old bastard didn’t even say a word. The way his eyes darkened as she entered the room was enough. He opened his legs as she climbed onto his lap, grinding her bare pussy against the straining bulge in his undies. His hands cupped her as he growled, “Rough day with the boy again?”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him, her slender fingers already sliding down his stomach to his crotch, tugging at his hard cock. “Just fuck me, Raj…”

Raj’s lips curved into a victorious, smug grin as he tasted her warm, hungry kiss. The soft press of her barely clothed body against his only made his cock pulse harder, the damp heat from her cunt already seeping through. 

Cassandra slowly sat back on his lap, her eyes locked onto his dark, lecherous stare. With a single, fluid motion, she peeled off her tank top and tossed it to the side, revealing her supple, pale skin and perfectly round breasts, her nipples already stiff from arousal. Her long, dark, wavy hair tumbled down her back, clinging slightly to her flushed, pretty face.

Raj just stared at her, completely mesmerized. American women were out of this world for him. 

“Hmm, as sexy as ever,” he murmured, his hands already moving to her waist. 

She didn’t answer, she didn’t need to. 

Cassandra reached and tugged his underwear down until they dropped to his ankles. His cock sprang free, thick, veiny, and twitching with need. She took it into her delicate hand and gave him a few teasing strokes, her palm slick with his precum as she lined him up beneath her. 

Then, without breaking eye contact, she sank down onto him, inch by inch, moaning as he slotted into her warm folds with familiar ease. 

“Ohhh… fuck…” she breathed, her head tilting back, her wavy black hair cascading over her shoulders as her body trembled. 

Raj groaned beneath her, his rough hands gripping her hips like a man starved. “That’s it… Take it all…”

Cassandra began to ride him slowly, her movements sensual and deliberate. Her boobs bounced with every skillful roll of her hips. Raj sunk back into the cushions, his dark eyes flickering down to watch the way his cock disappeared into her soaked pussy. 

She leaned forward, her arms snaking around his neck as she twerked her hips against him. Raj’s mouth instinctively latched onto her tits, his tongue swirling around one nipple before sucking greedily, making her moan even louder. She threaded her fingers through his thinning gray hair and rode him faster, harder, her body moving like she was made for him. 

“Harder, Raj,” she moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck me harder…”

He obliged without hesitation, thrusting up into her, his pace brutal, the couch rocking beneath their weight. 

The sounds of their slapping flesh and breathy moans filled the living room. Cassandra bounced on his lap, her tits jiggling with each downward thrust as Raj gripped her plush ass, his fingers sinking into her soft skin. He pulled her down harder, deeper, groaning as her tight pussy swallowed his cock again and again.

“F-fuck! Ouuhhh… yes! Hmmmm, shit!” Cassandra gasped, her voice pitched and trembling as she pressed his wrinkled face further into her chest. “God… I can feel you in my fucking stomach!”

Their rhythm intensified. Cassandra’s body was slick with sweat, her toned frame gleaming in the dim light as she rode him wildly. Her moans were desperate and gasping, each one followed by the thick slap of his hips meeting hers. 

It didn’t take long before her body seized up and her legs trembled as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. 

“Ahhhh—fuck—Raj!” she cried out, collapsing forward against him, as her bigger, fuller body smushed his smaller frame against the couch. Her sweet cream seeped past her quivering folds, dripping down his length and onto his heavy balls as her pussy pulsed around him. 

Raj didn’t stop, however. He grabbed her tightly, lifting her off him with surprising strength, and let them both tumble to the floor in a sweaty heap. Cassandra landed on her stomach with a breathless laugh, sprawling onto the dusty rug. Her long legs stretched between his, toes curling, ass perfectly raised, her glistening slit dripping and exposed. 

Raj loomed over her, panting as he admired the sight. “Look at this ass…” he muttered, spreading her cheeks with both hands, staring hungrily between them. “Perfect… and all mine…”

Cassandra whimpered, her cheek pressed against the floor, her blue eyes half-lidded and glazed with lust. “Put it back in, Raj… Give me that cock… please…”

Raj spat lightly onto her entrance and guided his slick cock to her soaked slit, rubbing his leaking head against her tender folds before pressing in. A long, sultry moan escaped her lush lips as he slid back inside, her walls still trembling from her climax. 

“Ohhh, still so tight,” he growled, slowly pushing all the way in until his balls rested against her ass. He grabbed her hips, pulling her back against him, and began to thrust with deep, heavy strokes, watching the jiggle of her cheeks every time he drove into her. 

Pinned beneath him, Cassandra took it all, her voice breathy and low, pretty face flushed with pleasure. 

And as he pounded into her, she thought only of the moment. No responsibilities, no family, no Jason. Just the sweat, the sound, the sensation of being utterly claimed by this old Indian man.

Cassandra moaned deeply, her breath hot and ragged as Raj slammed into her from behind. She clawed at the rug, her back arching with each powerful thrust. His narrow hips snapped against her ass with a steady rhythm, the wet sound of their bodies slapping filled the room in time with her cries of pleasure. 

“Ahhh—yes! Fuck, Raj… Don’t stop!” she whimpered, her voice strained and needy. The force of his thrusts caused her entire body to rock forward with each filthy connection. Her long legs quivered, spreading wide beneath him as her toes curled and thighs became taut from the pleasure quickly coiling from within again. 

Raj let out a raspy groan, sweat dripping from his brow as he drove into her tight pussy with growing urgency. His bony hands slid from her hips to her waist, gripping her firmly, holding her steady as he fucked her deeper. “Ohhh—Argh! Yes… Take it… Take it, Cassandra… you feel so good! GYA! AUGH!”

Her eyes fluttered back as his cock stretched her perfectly with each plunge, his tip stabbing at her cervix with maddening force. “Oh my god… I’m gonna—fuck! Raj… I’m cumming again!”

The old man didn’t let up. If anything, his pace grew harder, faster, his hips slamming into her ass with loud, wet smacks. Cassandra cried out, her whole body shaking beneath his smaller frame as a second orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clenched down around him, milking his cock with mind-melting spasms as her moans filled the living room.

Raj groaned, the sensation of her contracting walls around his cock made it throb with desperate need. He leaned down, panting against her skin as he kissed along the side of her neck, his lips trailing from the curve of her shoulder up to behind her ear. 

“That’s it, beautiful… Let it out…” he murmured, his voice thick with hunger.

He kept thrusting, his movements deep and unrelenting as Cassandra remained prone beneath him, their sweaty bodies dampening the rug under them. Her pussy was soaked and twitching, her body still shuddering from the aftershocks of her orgasm he’d just wrung out of her. But Raj wasn’t finished; not yet.

His grip tightened around her waist, fingers pressing into her soft skin as he groaned through his gritted teeth. “Ouuhh! Argh! Nhg! Yes… so tight… take it!”

Cassandra gasped and involuntarily lifted her legs from the floor with every deep stroke, as his cock knicked every sensitive spot she had. Her blue eyes were glassy and half-lidded. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her, his movements becoming more desperate and frantic. 

She knew that feeling all too well. The way his cock swelled just before he finished. The way his pace lost all sense of rhythm, becoming ragged and greedy. He wanted to cum. He wanted to fill her with his seed. 

And part of her wanted to let him. 

But she couldn’t; not yet.

Raj growled above her, hips snapping harder. “Augh! Ohh—Ohhhhh! Cassandra—yes… Yes! I need to—”

She felt his cock pulse deeper inside her, and her eyes fluttered open. 

“Cum on me, baby,” she uttered, her breath hitching as she looked back at him over her shoulder. “Give me that big load, Daddy…”

Raj snarled, holding himself there for a beat longer than he should have. He was right on the edge, balls heavy and aching, the primal urge to bury his load inside her overwhelming. But the way she spoke to him in that sultry, coaxing voice always made him obey.

He pulled out at the last second, grunting like an animal as he yanked his slick manhood free from her addictive pussy. He wrapped his hand around his shaft and furiously stroked himself. A second later, thick ropes of hot cum shot across her pale ass, painting her lower back and the curve of her cheeks. He kept jerking himself through it, panting as each pulse spilled more of his load onto her smooth skin.

“Ohhh… fuck… nhg… argh… ouuuhhh…” he rasped, his voice husky and labored. 

Cassandra moaned at the feeling, her body limp beneath him, marked and dripping with his seed as he spread it over her.

Raj exhaled harder, his hand gripping her hip as he leaned forward, breath hot on her shoulder. “Amazing…” he muttered. 

Cassandra’s lips curled into a small, dazed smile, her cheek still pressed against the floor, loose strands of her dark hair stuck to her skin. “You’re cutting it close, Raj,” she said, her voice soft with a chiding yet teasing edge. 

Raj chuckled low in his throat, tracing a line through the mess on her back with his finger. “Hm, I can’t help it. Your pussy is practically begging for it,” he whispered with a knowing tone. “One of these days, you’re going to let me…”

Cassandra didn’t answer. But the slow, satisfied roll of her hips said more than enough. The memory of their first night together flooded her mind. The way he came in her, filling her pussy with his heavy loads, claiming her. It was the best sex she had ever had. What they were doing was great, but there was always that missing element that took things to another level.

The idea of possibly letting him finish inside her again was tempting, dangerous. But she had grown so attached to him that her body craved it, needed it. The filthy thought was all it took to start second-guessing the flimsy rule she set to protect her conscience from all the depraved things she did behind her fiancé’s back.

Maybe she will…

-

Cassandra sat cross-legged on the couch, a loose white tee hanging off one shoulder, her laptop propped on a cushion in her lap. The quiet hum of the ceiling fan above did little to ease the heat while Raj busied himself with something in the kitchen.

She scrolled lazily through her inbox, sifting through unread messages. One subject line caught her eye: “Internship Opportunity - U.S. Consulate Partner Program (Mumbai).”

She leaned and sat up straighter. Clicking the message open, she read through the details carefully. A six-month paid internship, sponsored by an American firm operating in India. Remote for now, with potential transition into a full-time position. It sounded seriously interesting. Professional. Exactly the kind of thing she would go for since it lined up perfectly with her major, which she came to India to study for. 

It was almost perfect, except that Jason wouldn’t be too happy to hear that she’d stay halfway across the world even longer. 

She bit her lip, rereading a line that mentioned development and potential assistance with visa transitions. 

Her thumb hovered near the reply button. 

“Working too hard again?” Raj’s voice broke through the stillness. 

She looked up, a bit startled as he stood before her, shirtless, with two cups of chai, a familiar smug look gleaming in his old eyes.

Cassandra closed her laptop instinctively, like a teenager caught with something she shouldn’t be looking at. “Just reading through emails,” she replied, casually, graciously accepting the cup.

He smirked. “Anything exciting?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a light shrug, fingers brushing the edge of her laptop. “There’s this internship thing… American-based company, but in Mumbai. Looks legit.”

Raj’s expression didn’t change, though the news made him beam with curiosity and excitement. He would love her to extend her tenure with him. He stepped closer, sitting down beside her. His warm hand slid over her bare knee, thumb grazing her soft skin. “Oh? Sounds very… serious. You giving it any consideration?”

Cassandra gave him a sideways glance, one brow arched. “Not yet. But if I do take this opportunity, it could lead to a permanent gig. And it probably could help me get out of here easier.”

Raj tilted his head, his expression shifting slightly, her words making his stomach churn with displeasure. This is not what he had in mind. “Hmm, you say that like it’s a good thing.”

She smirked. “I mean… isn’t it?”

Raj leaned in slightly, his grip on her knee tightening just a bit. 

“You know, Cassandra… you could stay,” he suggested, his voice laced with that familiar, coaxing charm. 

She let out a short laugh, rolling her eyes. “Raj, like I told you… this is… temporary. And I can’t stay in this little apartment forever. I have a life waiting for me back in the States.”

His hand slid higher along her thigh, fingers grazing beneath the hem of her shirt. “Yes, yes… I remember. But it doesn’t have to be this apartment,” he murmured. “There’s a lot of opportunity here. Americans working in India make good money. Get nice places. Big flats, air conditioning that actually works, no blackouts.”

She lifted a brow, skeptical. “Is that right?”

Raj gave her a grin, smooth and assuring, like he believed his own lie. “Yes, yes! Of course. You wouldn’t want to be stuck here forever. You could have a good life… Stay close to me.”

Cassandra hesitated. It sounded… plausible. Sort of. She felt like she had this conversation with Raj a thousand times about how she’s engaged, yada yada yada…

She didn’t outright reject his offer, however. The way he touched her, his warmth pressing into her side, made the thought of leaving feel heavier. She opened her mouth to push back, but he leaned in, his lips brushing her shoulder. 

“Just think about it…” he whispered against her skin. “You’ve already got a head start here. We have a great relationship. Why go back over there?”

She swallowed, feeling her resolve blur under his touch. The internship email sat waiting in her inbox, but the warmth of Raj’s hand on her thigh made her forget about it, for now.

Cassandra finally decided to accept the internship after some deep consideration for a couple of days. She sat at the desk in their shared room, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she read over her reply one last time. The offer was good. Too good to ignore. A paid internship, the chance to build experience, maybe even a stepping stone toward something bigger. Even if it meant staying in India a little longer, it wasn’t like she was rushing back to the States. 

Later that evening, her phone buzzed. Jason.

She stepped out onto the narrow balcony, shutting the door behind her, the faint sounds of the bustling street below mixing with the tension in her chest. She picked up.

“You what? You took the internship?!” his voice came blaring through the receiver, the disbelief in his tone cutting straight through her.

She closed her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. “Jason, it’s only six months. It’s mostly remote. I can work from here. It’s a great opportunity for me. Paid too.”

“You were supposed to be coming home,” he shot back. “You said as soon as restrictions eased, you’d be on a flight back. Now you’re talking about staying longer. This is ridiculous.”

It’s not forever!” she snapped, her patience thinning. “I just— I need something to focus on, Jason. Sitting here waiting isn’t helping. Especially since I want to have a good career.”

Inside, Raj leaned against his chair, listening closely, his dark eyes narrowing with satisfaction as the tension flared between them. He smirked, knowing this was exactly what he wanted. Every argument pushed her further from that life back home and closer to his. 

Jason’s voice dropped, low and tight. “Feels like you’re finding every excuse to stay. Do you even want to come back? I don’t understand how you tolerate living under those conditions.”

Cassandra flinched, her pulse quickening as her anger simmered. “Don’t do this right now, Jason.”

Raj watched the heat rising in her cheeks, the strain in her voice, and let her struggle a moment longer before stepping out onto the balcony. His hand slid around her waist, warm and grounding, his chest brushing against her back. 

“I’ll call you later,” Cassandra muttered, ending the call before Jason could say more. She leaned forward, gripping the rusty railing, exhaling a long, tense breath. 

“Trouble in paradise, sweetheart?” Raj asked, his lips grazing her ear. 

She shot him a sharp look but softened at the warmth of his touch. 

“He doesn’t get it,” she muttered. “He just… doesn’t understand… that’s all.”

Raj’s hand trailed up her side, his voice smooth as silk. “You don’t need that stress, Cassandra. If he truly cared, he’d support you.” He made sure to sneak a tiny jab to instigate her frustration toward her fiancé. “What you need is a break. Perhaps a little getaway?”

She scoffed softly. “We’re still on lockdown.”

“Things are easing up,” he replied, brushing his fingers through a loose strand of her dark hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I know a place. Private, quiet. No crowds. My friend owes me a favor. We can get in, no problem.”

She shook her head, unconvinced. “Raj…”

He turned her gently to face him, his bony hands resting on her hips. His eyes met hers, intense and persuasive. “You’ve been cooped up here for months. Working. Stressing. Fighting with that man back home. You need to clear your head.”

She hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek, the weight of Jason’s words still fresh in her mind. “Well, you’ve certainly been helping relieve that stress,” Cassandra replied teasingly, her tense expression fading. 

Raj smirked, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “This is great for you. You need a good headspace before you start working. Get familiar with my country some more and build some work experience. There is an opportunity here, Cassandra. Americans like you can make real money. Get a nicer place. Better than starting over back there.”

Her pretty blue eyes narrowed, skepticism flickering across her face. “You sound like a salesman, Raj,” she responded, her tone light and playful. “And let me guess, you want to hitch a ride on my success?”

The old man grinned knowingly, brushing his thumb over the curve of her hip. “Well… if you’re offering. You know you can’t get enough of this cock,” he said slyly. 

She sighed, shaking her head as she laughed softly. Jokes aside, his words and the heat of his touch were very convincing. She did need to get out of this apartment. God knows how long it had been since she went outside. 

Raj leaned up, kissing the curve of her jaw tenderly. “Let me take care of you for a while,” he murmured. “You deserve it.”

And just like that, the fight with Jason faded into the background, replaced by the slow, magnetic pull of the man in front of her. “Hmm, okay…”

-

The drive was long, with winding rural roads, past stretches of empty coastline, and dense jungles. When they finally arrived at the resort, Cassandra looked through the window, surprised by how empty everything was. The main entrance was quiet, the usual buzz of travelers and staff was stifled by the restrictions. A handful of people moved about in the distance, all wearing masks, their movements slow and cautious. 

Raj stopped the car near the check-in area, his grin unwavering beneath his own loosely worn mask. “Told you it would be quiet,” he said as he turned off the engine and stepped out, stretching his wiry frame before circling to the trunk to grab their things. 

Cassandra followed, adjusting the strap of her light sundress as they approached the front desk, greeted by a masked attendant who checked them in quickly, speaking softly and keeping a respectful distance. There was something eerie about how quiet it was, but also something peaceful: no crowds, no noise, no pollution. Just open space and the faint scent of salt in the air. 

Their villa sat tucked along the beach, neatly nestled between some jungle foliage, set apart from the others. The sea stretched far, calm and blue, with the sound of gentle waves rolling onto the shore.

Raj unlocked the door, pushing it open. “Welcome to paradise,” he said with a playful smirk. 

She stepped inside, setting her things down, and walked straight through the open villa, out onto the back deck where the ocean breeze flowed freely. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp, salty air. The kind of fresh, untainted air she hadn’t smelled in months. 

“This… is perfect,” she admitted, turning to glance at Raj, her pretty blue eyes softening. “Wonder what kind of favor your friend owed you to hook us up with a place like this.”

Raj chuckled, leaning against the glass doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Heh, nothing much. He lost a bet with me a while back. I just thought it was the best time to cash it in now,” he explained with a small shrug. 

She shook her head, smiling, before turning back to face the ocean, letting the breeze lift her hair, the tension from her arguments with her fiancé drifting away. 

Later that afternoon, they wandered into the small town just beyond the resort. The streets were quiet but alive in their own way. Locals went about their business, small market stalls along the roadside with colorful fabrics, fresh fruit, and handmade trinkets. 

Cassandra walked beside Raj, her cargo shorts riding perfectly up the curve of her ass with each step, her long, toned legs glinted in the sun. She’d paired them with a simple tank top knotted at her waist, just enough skin to feel the warm day without drawing too much attention.

Raj didn’t care about subtlety, however. 

His hand slipped down as they strolled, giving her ass a firm squeeze, fingers pressing into her soft cheek. Cassandra jumped slightly, shooting him a glare, though it carried little heat as she just rolled her eyes and smiled. 

“Raj! Really?” she whispered, glancing around. 

Raj just laughed. “What? This old man can’t help himself.”

She shook her head but didn’t pull away. 

The people here felt different, warmer, friendlier. A few curious glances, but none of the leering stares or catcalls she’d encountered in the city. No beggars were crowding the streets. No shady men loitering at corners. Just a slow, easy rhythm that made her relax, the tension of being cooped up inside for months easing bit by bit. 

As they passed a line of market stalls, one caught her eye. A small stand draped with brightly colored bikinis and swim straps. 

Cassandra stopped, running her fingers over the fabric, realizing she hadn’t packed a single thing for the beach. It wasn’t like she planned to swim when she arrived in India. No swimsuits, no cover-ups. She turned to Raj. “I just realized I don’t have anything for the beach.”

Raj stepped behind her, close enough for her to feel his presence. His gaze raked slowly over the rows of bikinis, then down her body.

“You’d look dangerous in one of these,” he said, voice low, almost a growl. “I want to see you in something small. Something that barely covers anything.”

Cassandra arched a brow at him, giving him a side-glance, but her tugging lips betrayed her. “Of course you do, you dirty old man.”

Raj turned toward the vendor, an older woman reclining behind the stand. He launched into fluent Hindi, his tone casual and charming. He gestured to Cassanda and then pointed at a few of the skimpier pieces. The woman glanced between them before countering firmly. 

Cassandra folded her arms, watching the exchange, trying to suppress her amusement as Raj leaned in haggling without missing a beat. His hands moved expressively, his grin wide, never losing his cool. 

“Raj, I’ll just pay whatever she’s asking,” she insisted, her hand reaching for her wallet. 

Raj shot her an assuring wink. “No, no. I got it. Just let me handle this, okay?”

The vendor finally relented with a laugh, nodding as she folded two bikinis into a small bag: a teal one Cassandra had admired, and a black one Raj wanted for her. 

He turned back after handing the vendor the money, triumphant, holding up the bag. “Heh, got you a very good deal! Very good.”

Cassandra raised a brow. “Hmm, my hero. You didn’t have to haggle with that lady. I was fine paying for this on my own.”

Raj waved his hands, shaking his balding head. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Perfectly normal here. And I told you I’d take care of you. Just let me watch you try them on as repayment.”

Cassandra pursed her lips, leering at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal. She snatched the bag from his hand, smirking. “You’re impossible.”

“Hehe, you love it,” he teased, sliding his bony hand onto her hip as they continued down the quiet street. 

-

Later, Cassandra lay stretched out on a sun lounger near the water, the teal bikini she’d bought hugging every curve of her body perfectly, her long legs extended, glistening with a sheen of sunscreen. Her dark, wavy hair spilled over her shoulders, and her alluring blue eyes fluttered shut beneath her sunglasses as she basked in the heat.

Raj sat beside her, leaning back casually. He had one arm draped over the back of her chair, and a smug grin covered his lips as he scanned the quiet beach. There weren’t many people, just a few scattered couples keeping to themselves and workers tending to their duties. 

His hand slid down, bony fingers curling possessively over her hip, then trailing lower, gripping her plush ass firmly beneath the edge of her bikini bottom. Cassandra let out a soft noise of protest, glancing over the rim of her glasses. 

“Raj…”

He just smirked, giving her cheek a slow squeeze, his thumb brushing along the exposed curve of her skin. “Hehe, an old man can’t admire?” he murmured, playing with her pliable flesh. “You look too good not to touch.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, but the blush burning in her cheeks told him everything. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Cassandra and Raj strolled back from the beach, returning to their villa to get ready for dinner. Cassandra retreated into the bathroom, slipping on a simple, yet alluring sun dress, light and airy, its straps thin against her shoulders. 

Outside, Raj changed too, swapping his loose beach shorts and tank top for a pair of linen pants and a button-down shirt he saved just for this occasion. He left a few of the buttons undone, exposing a hint of the dark skin of his chest. His thin, graying hair remained tousled, but he liked it that way.

When Cassandra stepped out of the bathroom, her blue eyes caught his immediately, lingering just a second longer than necessary. A familiar tension simmered between them, even more potent than ever. The old man grinned, stepping closer, his wrinkly hand brushing along her waist.

“You clean up nice,” he murmured, his hand sliding further back to cup her ass. 

She smirked, patting his chest lightly. “Hmm, for an old man, so do you.”

Together, they walked down the sandy path to the resort’s beachfront restaurant, the warm glow of the lanterns lighting their way. The place wasn’t crowded, just a few guests scattered at well-spaced tables.

As they entered, a young server approached, offering a polite smile, though his eyes lingered curiously on Raj, who trailed a few feet behind Cassandra. His open-collar shirt and worn sandals made Raj look more like some local who wandered in from the beach than a guest. The server’s attention turned back to the American woman, shifting his posture. 

“Table for one?” he asked, his voice polite but carrying a faint edge of assumption.

Cassandra arched her brow, her eyes flicking between the server and her Indian lover. She stepped in without hesitation, sliding her arm smoothly around Raj’s waist. 

“He’s with me,” she said firmly, her voice steady.

The server blinked, caught off guard, before quickly nodding. “O-oh! Of course, ma’am. Right this way.”

Raj smirked as they followed the server to a table near the open arch, the gentle sound of waves filling the calming space. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as they sat. 

“I could get used to hearing that,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. 

Cassandra shot him a playful glare, though a soft smile spread across her lips. 

Dinner passed under the warm glow of the lanterns above, the quiet sounds of the waves nearby setting a peaceful and romantic air to the evening. The resort’s beachfront restaurant served grilled fish with spiced vegetables and cold white wine that Cassandra sipped slowly, savoring the calming moment. 

She laughed at one of Raj’s dry, teasing remarks, her hand brushing his on the table without thinking. It was easy, natural, too natural. They’d slipped into something resembling a relationship without ever calling it that, their days filled with lazy mornings and filthy nights, their bodies tangled more often than not. 

Raj sat across from her, wine glass in hand, his aged eyes focused on the stunning American woman who sat before him. 

“You know,” he began after a pause, his voice lower now and more serious, “we’ve been doing this for a while.”

Cassandra arched her brow, pulling her glass from her lips. “Doing what exactly?”

Raj smirked knowingly. “Living like this. Together. Fucking. Waking up in each other’s arms. Acting like we’re more than just some dirty fling.”

Her smile faltered slightly, his brash words making her nervously shift her attention to see if anyone heard. 

Raj leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Why don’t we just make this real?”

Cassandra blinked. She felt like they’d talked about their situation many times in some form or another as of late. “Raj… I feel like we’ve talked about this before.”

“Eh, I know, I know… but I’m being serious this time,” he replied with a shrug, his voice steady as he remained locked onto her alluring blue eyes. “You’re already staying longer with that new job. And… you don’t wear that ring anymore.” His eyes flicked down to her bare hand meaningfully. 

Cassandra instinctively glanced at her left hand. She’d taken the ring off weeks ago, totally forgetting about it as she fell deep into the lust and passion with Raj. She was almost taken aback at how she hadn’t even thought about putting it back on, even at this very moment.

“I didn’t realize you noticed,” she murmured, lazily twirling a thread of her hair with her fingers. 

Raj chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass. “I notice everything about you, beautiful. Especially when it confirms what I already know.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re mine. You just haven’t admitted it yet.”

Cassandra stared at him, unknowingly nibbling on the corner of her lip as her thighs clenched together. She wanted to push back, to remind him that this was only temporary since she still had a life and a fiancé waiting back home. But he was right. She hadn’t spoken to Jason in days, ever since they’d argued about her taking on the internship, and she hadn’t even thought about calling him back.

She knew that her relationship with Jason was on its last legs. She was too in denial to admit that things weren’t working out with the man she initially fell in love with and was engaged to. 

Cassandra let out a heavy sigh through her nostrils, her body tensing as the stress of her problems crept in again. 

Raj reached across the table and took her hand, rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb. She didn’t pull away. 

He smiled just enough to make her relax, although she was pressing her thighs tighter underneath the table. 

“Hmm, you’re thinking about leaving him, aren’t you?” he asked, his gaze unwavering. “Or,” he added, “have you already made up your mind?”

Cassandra didn’t answer. 

Her delicate fingers traced the rim of her wine glass, eyes cast down toward the table. Her heart pounded in her chest at how things were unfolding before her. This wasn’t a choice to be taken lightly, but deep down, she already knew what she wanted.

Raj watched her closely, his smirk fading into something more measured. “Hm, you don’t have to say it,” the old man murmured, leaning in just a little. “I see it. Every time you look at me, like I’m the only thing that matters. Heh, I know I’m not the youngest… or most attractive… but I give you something no one else can.”

Her breath caught, his words hitting her like a waking slap of truth. 

Cassandra swallowed hard. The idea of being with this older, hung, Indian man who had claimed her so thoroughly and caused her to abandon her past commitments made her so aroused.

Raj’s raspy voice dropped even lower. “You’ve already left him in every way that counts, no? You’re just waiting for the right moment to admit it yourself.”

Cassandra looked up, meeting his dark, hungry eyes across the flickering candlelight. There was no denial in her gaze, just quiet conflict, and the faintest hint of guilt shadowed by desire.  

Raj licked his lips. Not cocky. Not triumphant.

Just certain.

And that scared her more than anything else.

Raj flashed her a knowing look, the lust in his gaze making her pussy soaked. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

-

Back at the villa, the tension that simmered through dinner exploded the moment the door shut behind them. 

Cassandra grabbed Raj by the collar of his open shirt and crashed her lips with his, their mouths colliding in a sloppy, desperate kiss. There was no finesse, only carnal hunger. Their bodies pressed together, hands roaming wildly, clutching, pulling. She moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down her back, finding her plush ass and gripping it hard through the thin fabric of her sundress. 

He walked backward blindly, lips never leaving hers until the back of her knees hit the bed. With a rough shove, they tumbled down together, Raj landing flat on his back. They kicked off their sandals, scooting further up the mattress. Cassandra straddled him, her elegant, dark hair falling past her shoulders, her eyes burning with desire. 

Their conversation at dinner may have ended in silence, but the answer was here, in her touch, in the way she stared down at him like he was the only man in the world she needed. She had made her choice. She was his.

She sat up just enough to yank her dress over her head and toss it aside, revealing her sun-kissed skin and a lacey bra barely holding back her shapely breasts. Raj growled beneath her, sitting up just enough to bury his face in her divine cleavage, his hands sliding under her thighs, squeezing her bare ass. 

“Hm? You didn’t wear any panties tonight?” he rasped. 

“No,” she whispered with a faint, devious giggle, grinding her hips down against his. 

Raj chuckled, his breath hot against her skin. “Hehe, you’re so naughty.”

She kissed him again, slower this time but just as hungry, rocking against the thick bulge of his pants. Her fingers made quick work of his buttons, shoving his shirt off his shoulders, then leaning forward, kissing and licking down his chest, following the trail of wiry, graying hair that led below his waistline. 

Raj leaned back on his elbows, watching her as she slid off him and knelt between his skinny legs. She undid his pants and tugged them down along with his briefs, freeing his cock—thick, dark, already leaking with arousal. 

Cassandra licked her lips, eyes locked on his as she wrapped her fingers around the base and gave him a slow, deliberate stroke. She reached behind her, unhooking her bra, freeing her perfect tits, her nipples hard from the lust between them. She leaned forward and licked his bulbous head, tasting the salt of his skin and precum on her tongue. 

Raj let out a low, broken moan. “Ohhh… yes…”

She took him into her mouth inch by inch, her soft lips stretching around his veiny girth, tongue swirling as she swallowed him deep. Her hands gripped his thighs as her head bobbed in skillful, circular motions that she had perfected during her tenure with him, the lewd, wet sounds and ragged breathing filling the air as she worked him. 

“Augh… Eeayah! Yes… suck that cock,” he groaned, his balding head tipping back in pure pleasure. 

She moaned around his cock, the vibration making his thighs tense. Her pace quickened, sucking him harder, her spit dripping down his shaft and heavy balls as she deepthroated him with maddening precision. Her eyes fluttered up, locking with his, full of heat and something far more dangerous. Devotion. 

She wasn’t thinking about Jason. She wasn’t thinking about home. She was here, on her knees. Worshipping Raj’s cock like it was the only thing that mattered. 

Cassandra moaned softly as she pulled her lips from Raj’s cock, her tongue trailing down his throbbing shaft until she reached his heavy balls. She kissed them first, slowly and teasingly, then began to suckle them one at a time, letting them fill her mouth as her hand stroked his slick, hot length.

Raj groaned deeply, his hips twitching under her touch, one hand gripping her hair as she pleasured him. “Ouuhh… you’re going to make me lose it,” the old man growled, his toes curling and spreading from the welcoming embrace of her mouth.

Cassandra smiled against his balls, then pulled back, a thick string of spit connecting from her lips to his sack before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and rose to her feet. Her eyes never left his as she climbed onto the bed, lying back against the pillows and spreading her legs slowly, beckoning him to get between them. 

“Come fuck me,” she whispered, her tongue wickedly dragging across her lips as she presented her sopping, smooth-shaven pussy to her Indian lover.

Raj didn’t hesitate. 

He quickly crawled onto the bed with primal hunger, his lean, wiry frame moving over her body like a shadow. His bony hands slid up her thighs, pushing them apart and pressing them up his sides. Her long legs framed his body, smooth and open, trembling in anticipation. 

The size difference between them was always laughable. Cassandra was tall, toned, and radiant, while Raj was smaller, older, leaner, but no less dominant. The contrast only made the arousal between them burn hotter. She was perfect, too perfect for the likes of this dirty old man. But that’s what made things more intoxicating. 

Raj gripped the base of his cock, thick and slick with her spit, and guided it slowly against her soaked pussy. He rubbed his head against her folds, teasing her swollen clit before pressing the tip just inside. 

Cassandra gasped, her fingers clutching the sheets. “Hmmmm… Raj…”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “You’re mine, beautiful,” he murmured. 

Then he pushed in.

Slowly. Deeply. 

Her mouth dropped open in a long, sultry moan, her back arching as she felt the familiar stretch of his cock. Raj groaned above her, his hands holding her thighs in place as he buried himself to the hilt. 

She was dripping, soaked for him, and the tight grip of her pussy around his cock was enough to make him cum right then and there.

But he held back. He wanted to savor the moment a while longer before he claimed her once and for all. 

Raj began to move, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost all the way out before thrusting it back into Cassandra’s dripping cunt with a deep, satisfying smack. Her body jolted beneath him, her back arching even more as she let out a sharp moan. 

“Oh fuck—Raj… so deep…” she gasped, her toes curling.

He grunted, eyes locked on her flushed face as he drove into her again, and again, each thrust harder than the last. His rough hands held her thighs wide open, pressing them up against her chest, folding her body just how he wanted it, completely exposed, completely his. 

“You like that?” he growled, leaning over her, sweat beading along his brow. “You like me fucking you like this?”

Cassandra moaned, her blue eyes hazy with pure ecstasy, flicking down between them. She could see it, see the way his bare cock disappeared into her slick folds, then reappeared coated in her wetness, over and over, slamming into her with obscene, wet sounds.

“Y-es,” she managed, her voice breathy and full of desperate need. “Fuck, I love it… you feel so fucking good, Raj! Ouuhhhh! Hmmm! K-eep going! Deeper, baby!”

“Argh! This pussy is all mine,” he roared, snapping his hips harder, the bed creaking underneath them. “Take all of me like you were born for this like the dirty little slut you are.”

Cassandra cried out, her head rolling back, dark hair splayed across the pillows. “I am—I’m your slut—I love getting my pussy pounded by you!”

Raj licked his lips, his grip tightening on her thighs, angling his strokes even deeper. “Say it again.”

She moaned louder, her voice rising as she lost herself in the rhythm of his eye-rolling thrusts. The bed rocked under them, her body jolting with every deep, punishing stroke. Her hands gripped the sheets, pillows, anything she could hold onto as she writhed beneath him. 

“I’m yours!” she cried out, barely able to breathe between moans. “This pussy is yours! Raj!”

He grinned, feral and flushed, eyes dark with satisfaction as he fucked the truth out of her. The way she clenched around him, the way her voice cracked on his name, it was everything he wanted. 

Raj moved, leaning in close, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against Cassandra’s body, their contrasting skin sticking together in the heat of their filthy passion. Her boobs were smushed against him, soft and warm, her nipples dragging across his skin with every thrust.

He slid his hands into hers, lacing their fingers together before pinning them down on either side of her head against the mattress. She gasped at the sudden restraint, her eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. 

Raj’s face hovered just inches above hers, his breath hot and uneven, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke. 

“Yeah?” he whispered, fucking her slow and deep, grinding his narrow hips with deliberate weight. “You moan my name, tell me this pussy’s mine… but are you gonna leave that useless boy? She moaned louder, losing herself in the rhythm of his eye-rolling thrusts. “I’m yours! This pussy is yours! Raj!”

He grinned, feral and flushed, eyes dark with satisfaction as he fucked the truth out of her. “Yeah? You gonna leave that useless fiancé of yours?”

Cassandra whimpered beneath him, her body twitching with each thrust, but she didn’t answer. Her eyes searched his, wide and dazed, the remnants of her doubts struggling against their lust and desire. The weight of his body, the feeling of being pinned by this smaller yet dominant older man, was all too much. 

She knew what she wanted.

Raj thrust harder, burying himself inside her with a grunt, rolling and grinding against her pelvis, forcing another breathless moan from her lips. Her eyes rolled back, the sensation of his cock pressing against her cervix. The sensation sent heavy waves of pleasure through her.

“Tell me,” he growled, his voice low and demanding. “Just say it.”

Her voice broke on a moan. “I-I don’t know—Raj—”

“Yes, you do,” he snapped, thrusting again. “You stopped wearing that fucking ring. You come crawling to me every night. You love the way I fuck you.”

He bent down, kissing her hard, his tongue claiming her mouth as he kept her pinned and spread beneath him. When he pulled back, their lips slick and panting, he stared into her eyes.

Cassandra's legs inched up instinctively, wrapping around Raj’s waist, pulling him deeper. Her body moved on its own: needy, clinging, desperate for more. She couldn’t resist him, couldn’t deny the way her hips lifted to meet every deep, grinding thrust, the way her walls pulsed greedily around his cock. 

Raj moved closer, their foreheads brushing, lips barely apart. He still had her hands pinned beside her head, his fingers interlaced with hers, his body pressing her into the bed, claiming her completely. 

“You gonna say it?” he repeated against her mouth. “Say what we both already know?”

Cassandra moaned, her body trembling, on the edge. “Mmm, fuck… Raj…”

He thrust hard, making her cry out loud, her breasts bouncing between them.

“Say it, Cassandra,” he grunted. “Tell me you’ll leave him. Tell me you’re mine now.”

She clenched her jaw, her eyes squeezing shut, fighting it, not because she didn’t mean it, but because once she said it, it would be real. Final. Her body wanted this so badly, despite the last shred of guilt she had screaming at her to stop. But it was too late. She was close, so close. Her climax coiled in her core, ready to explode at any moment.  

Another thrust—deep and rough—and she finally broke.

“I’ll leave him!” she uttered, her voice raw and full of release. “I’ll leave him! I’m yours, Raj! Only yours!”

Her orgasm hit like a lightning strike, tearing through her, legs locking tight around his back, pussy spasming uncontrollably around him as she screamed his name. 

“OOUUUUUUHHHH! RAJ!”

Raj let out a low, primal groan, a victorious grin spreading across his face as he watched her come undone before him.  

“Yes… Yes… leave him… leave that useless boy…” he rasped, slamming into her at a mind-melting pace, fucking her through the aftershocks, chasing his own impending orgasm. “You’re mine now, beautiful. All mine.”

Cassandra’s head tipped back, her voice nothing but sultry gasps and cries as she felt him grow even thicker inside her. She knew what was coming. She felt it building in his body, the way he moved with erratic, desperate need. 

He leaned into her ear, panting. “Augh… I’m close. I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside you, Cassandra. We’re done with your little rule from now on. I get to fill this pussy whenever I want now.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting, but she didn’t protest. 

Not this time. 

She just clung to him tighter, legs wrapped around his waist, her body already bracing for it, aching for it.

Raj growled. “You’re gonna take it. Every last drop.”

She felt him swelling inside her, thick and pulsing, the way his pace faltered, hips jerking with growing urgency. Raj was going to claim her once and for all. 

And she didn’t care anymore. She wanted this.

“Do it,” she moaned, arching up into him, her voice wild and needy. “Cum, Raj… fucking cum inside of me. I want it.”

His beady eyes flared, his rolling hips bucking as he reached the edge. 

“I don’t care if you knock me up,” she continued. “I want to feel your filthy load inside me again.”

Raj breathed heavily, his restraint snapping. He gripped her hands hard, pinning her with possessive force as he drove in deeper. 

“Yes… argh… ohhhh,” he moaned, his voice husky. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it mine forever?”

“Yes,” she cried, “Raj! Please!”

Their mouths collided, tongues sloppily tangling as they kissed hungrily, losing themselves in the primal pleasure of it all. 

He groaned into her mouth as he finally came, his wiry body tensing, legs rigid, hips jerking as he spilled his virile seed inside her. Thick, hot ropes of cum spewed deep into her womb, the sensation spreading within her very core. Cassandra moaned into the kiss, her eyes rolling back, as she felt every pulse of him emptying inside her. 

Raj’s breath stuttered, a low, guttural sound escaping his throat as he held her tight, breeding her tight American pussy with his Indian sperm. His cock twitched, pumping her until the last of his release left his contracting balls. He kept his lips pressed to hers as they both shuddered through the final waves of pure ecstasy buzzing between them. 

When he finally collapsed on top of her, still buried inside, they lay there tangled, sweaty, spent, and completely bound to each other in every possible way. 

Cassandra lay beneath him, her body still twitching, her breath ragged, legs loosely wrapped around Raj’s skinny waist as she recovered from the aftershocks. She could feel how full her pussy was with his release: thick, hot, and unprotected, exactly how they both wanted it. 

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Their bodies remained pressed against each other, slick with sweat and desire, the scent of sex thick in the air. Raj nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering her sensitive skin with light, sensual kisses.

Cassandra didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

She had made her choice. 

No more guilt. No more indecision. No more pretending she was someone else, living a life that didn’t fit her anymore. She’d crossed that line, and she didn’t want to go back. 

But what was happening deep inside her fertile depths only cemented her decision. Raj’s virile sperm surged forward with purpose, eagerly waiting for this very moment. One determined swimmer found her egg with ease. And in that quiet, unseen moment, their bodies completed what their lust had started. 

His genes fused with hers, chromosomes pairing, cells beginning to divide. A spark of life was born between them. 

Cassandra didn’t know it yet. But something had changed, not just between them, but in her very body.

She’d let him in completely. And now, she was officially his…

To be continued… 

Art Commission: Cassandra Samples by RyoganGG

Update!

Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been busy with life stuff. But now I'm more free to write. I'll have the new Foreign Temptations Chapter 3 and a Massage Therapy short story by this weekend. Thank you for your patience.

Foreign Tempations Ch. 03: Rework (Preview)

Author's Note: Here's a snippet of the new chapter 3 I'm writing. The plot should progress a lot better now. Let me know what you think!

The weeks passed in a blur of tangled sheets, desperate moans, and the constant rhythmic creaking of Raj’s bed against the wall. 

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

If Cassandra wasn’t working on her laptop, she was beneath him, on top of him, bent over the kitchen counter, pressed against the shower tiles, or wherever Raj could have her. And whenever he wasn’t out running errands or handling whatever business he had, he was on her, stripping her bare, making her forget about anything else but how good he could make her feel. 

Their bodies moved on instinct now, the sexual tension between them so constant, so insatiable, that even a mere look could set them off. 

She’d sit cross-legged on the couch, typing away, and Raj would stroll by, his beady eyes dark and filled with lust. One teasing smirk, one brush of his fingers against her exposed thigh, and suddenly she was sprawled across the cushions, her laptop shoved aside, his cock deep inside her pussy as she moaned his name. 

Or she’d be in the kitchen, making tea, when she’d feel his smaller, wiry frame press up behind her, his breath hot against her neck as his hands wandered beneath her flimsy clothes. “You can’t be that busy, beautiful,” he’d murmur, slipping her panties down before bending her over the counter, making her forget whatever the hell she was even doing in the first place. 

Every surface in the apartment became their playground. 

There was no restraint, no slowing down. 

They’d wake up naked, and before Cassandra could even stretch, Raj would roll on top of her, his Indian hog already hard and pressing against her soaked entrance. She gasped as he slid inside her, still half-asleep and sore from the night before. As exhausted as she was all the time, she wanted it, craved it, moaning his name as the morning sun peered through the curtains.

And at night? 

Cassandra would collapse onto the bed, spent from the hours of filthy sex, only for this lecherous old man to pull back against his chest, his lips on her shoulder, his cock pressing insistently between her thighs. “One more time…” he’d whisper, his bony hands gripping her hips. “I know you can give me one more…”

And she always did.

Every day was like this. Time was blurred together, marked only by the sound of their sweaty bodies colliding, the heat of his skin against hers, the way he made her moan and beg, how easily he could turn her into a writhing mess beneath him. 

Cassandra knew this was dangerous.

The longer this went on, the harder it would be to walk away. She still had a life back in the States: friends, family… Jason…

But every time Raj grabbed her, fucked her, claimed her like she was already his…

She began to stop caring…

-

Raj always pulled out. That was their deal, though sometimes, Cassandra felt the heated temptation to let him stay inside, to let him fill her just with his hot, heavy load like he had in the beginning.

It was reckless. Stupid. Risky.

She couldn’t afford that mistake, to let him irreversibly connect them.

As tempting as it was, she couldn’t risk getting pregnant by another man, especially not him. It would cause too many problems she wasn’t ready to face. This was supposed to be a fling, nothing more.

But fuck, when Raj had her pinned beneath him, his breath ragged, his body shuddering as he pulled out at the last possible second, spilling hot ropes across her stomach, her thighs, her ass, she almost wanted to tell him just this once.

She never did. 

Instead, she’d lie there, panting, skin sticky with his release, watching as Raj smirked down at her, his fingers lazily tracing the mess he’d made.

“Hmm, that was a close one,” he’d murmur, dragging his thumb across his cum before pressing it against her soft lips. “One of these days, you’re going to break that silly rule of yours.”

And every time, she’d simply smirk back, sucking his finger into her mouth, tasting him, teasing him; reminding him that she was in control of that one thing.

But outside of the apartment, outside of their little secret world, Cassandra played her part well. 

Jason was none the wiser. 

Their conversations were the same, soft, sweet, normal. She still said all the right things, smiled when they talked, and kept up the perfect fiancé facade. She knew it was wrong to lie, but the addictive thrill of her secret affair with this foreign man kept her shackled in her depravity. 

While Jason thought she was lonely, waiting patiently for the world to return to normal, she was actually being railed by the old man who took her in. 

Every time she told Jason she missed him, Raj was likely behind her, sliding her panties down.

Every time she sent a heart emoji, her mouth was probably wrapped around Raj’s cock, moaing against his thick, throbbing length.

Every time Jason told her he loved her, she was tangled in another man’s sheets, gasping another man’s name as she got fucked silly. 

Cassandra should have felt more guilty. Should have stopped this before it went too far. But she rationalized that this was merely a fling, something to keep her sane during these uneasy times.  

That was merely a crutch she leaned on now. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had already gone too far. She enjoyed this far too much to regret a damn thing. 

With COVID restrictions finally lifting, Cassandra had the opportunity to start the process of leaving. But instead of packing, sorting through paperwork, getting vaccinated, and making arrangements to get back home to Jason, she stalled. 

She told herself it was just logistics, just waiting for the right timing, but deep down, she knew the truth. 

She wasn’t ready to leave.

Raj had her hooked.

The he fucked her in a possessive and relentless manner, as if he owned her was too intoxicating for her to give up. The times she thought about making real moves to leave, Raj would pull her into hsi lap, his bony hands sliding beneath her clothes, his cock already hard and pressing against her, and suddenly, her plans didn’t seem so urgent anymore, and she would procrastinate further.

So she lied. 

She lied to Jason, telling him the process was slow, that there were bureaucratic delays, and that flights were still complicated. 

Cassandra reassured him, telling him she was fine, saying all the right things to keep him from suspecting a thing. All while she spent her nights with Raj’s cock buried deep inside her pussy, moaning his name instead of her fiancé’s. 

Jason was understanding for the most part. But he was becoming frustrating again. Their small arguments began to pile up, giving Cassandra more of an excuse to stay longer. 

He’d question her delays, ask for updates, and press for details she didn’t always have. “You said paperwork was processing. How long does it usually take?” Or, “Did you get your vaccine yet? Things should be easier when you do that.” His voice wasn’t accusing, but the persistence chipped away at her already eroding patience. 

“I told you, Jason,” she said one night over the phone, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. “It’s still backed up. Vaccines are only available to citizens right now, so I have to wait. And even if I did get my vaccine, the government is still making it difficult for anyone to enter or leave the country.”

He sighed. “R-right… I just miss you, babe. I want you to come back.”

Cassandra bit her lip, her blue eyes drifting toward the hallway where Raj was surely listening from the kitchen. “Yeah, I miss you too,” she murmured, barely meaning it.

After they hung up, she stood silently for a moment, staring at her blank phone screen. Then she peeled off her shorts, letting them drop to her feet, and made her way out of their shared room to the living room where Raj was waiting on the couch wearing nothing but his tight, white underwear. 

The old man didn’t even say a word. The way his eyes darkened as she entered the room was enough. He opened his legs as she climbed onto his lap, grinding her bare pussy against the straining bulge in his undies. His hands cupped her as he growled, “Rough day with the boy again?”

“Don’t want to talk about it, she whispered, leaning down to kiss him, her slender fingers already sliding down his stomach to his crotch, tugging at his hard cock. “Just fuck me, Raj…”

A victorious, smug grin curled at his lips as they kissed, the sensation of her wetness seeping through the fabric riling him up for the pleasure that was soon to come. “Of course, beautiful…”