Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Liam laughs, a dry, predatory sound. “Such a greedy little slut,” he says, and pushes in, inch by slow inch. The furniture creaks. Simone’s nails scrape against the desktop. He starts to fuck her, hard and rough, the force making the legs of the desk skid across the floor and rattle against the wall. Each time he slams into her, she lets out a ragged moan, the kind of sound that doesn’t belong to any language.
“Ohhhh,” my pretty roommate moans. “Mmmm!”
My heart is beating in my chest. I can’t feel my toes. My face is on fire. I want to look away, but the sight is too wild, too feral. Each thrust is a jolt. Simone’s pussy makes wet, obscene sounds, punctuated by her cries and Liam’s grunted swears. “Fuck, you’re tight. You missed Daddy, didn’t you?” he says, and the way Simone shakes, it’s clear she does.
I watch as he grabs her hair, pulls her up so she’s arched against him, his cock drilling up into her from behind. He whispers into her ear: “You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. You know that?”
She nods, babbling. “Yes, yes, please, don’t stop, Liam—”
He slaps her ass, so loud it echoes down the hallway. Then, softer: “Say it. Say you’re my fuckslut.”
Simone says it, mouth slack, drool glimmering at her lips. “I’m your fuckslut. Only yours, Professor Thomas.”
He pounds into her harder, both hands on her hips now, shoving her forward with every thrust. The desk is shuddering, Simone’s moans turning animal. “That’s right,” Liam says, voice rough, “and this pussy? It’s only for Daddy. You’re my horny little cum dumpster, aren’t you?”
My whole body vibrates, blood pounding in my ears, nipples scraping against the inside of my T-shirt, so hard it aches. I slide a hand down, unable to help myself, and press my thighs together. I can feel the slickness starting, like a secret between me and the void.
Simone sobs: “Yes, fuck, please, fill me up, Liam, I’m your cum dumpster. Please.”
He growls, “You want it?” and she says, “Yes, Daddy, yes! Please, now!”
Liam thrusts a final time and groans, his whole body tensing, and I watch as he stays buried inside her, both of them shivering with wild release. They scream and shout, Simone’s eyes rolling up in the back of her head to show the whites as her pussy clenches on Liam’s massive shaft. I literally see his balls pumping, his come shoot pulsing as stream after stream of virile jism pumps into my curvy roommate.
“Ooooh!” she moans. “Oh oh oh!”
After a moment, he pulls out, and a wet drip trails down Simone’s thigh. She collapses forward, breathing like she’s run a marathon, semen oozing from her drenched twat. Liam stands over her, catching his breath, chest slick with sweat.
“Goddamn, you’re a good fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps while stroking her blonde tresses. “You always pull every last drop of come out of my dick.”
Oh my god, Liam Thomas is so dirty! He treats my friend like a whore, and yet judging from Simone’s blissful expression, she loves it. Even worse, I realize, with a shameful, electric clarity, that I’ve been holding my own breath the entire time because I loved watching the scene. I exhale and almost topple into the hallway. My pussy pulses, hot and tender, my whole body a single raw nerve.
Inside, Liam’s voice: “Clean yourself up. We can’t risk anyone seeing us like this.”
Simone laughs, weak but wicked. “You adore it. The danger. You love me.”
He doesn’t answer, but the way he touches her hair before fondling her ass says everything.
I’ve seen enough. I back away from the door, footsteps so careful I might as well be floating. The echo of Simone’s moans follows me down the corridor, the memory thrumming between my legs.
All I can think is: so that’s what it looks like. That’s what it feels like. What it sounds like, even.
I want it. I want it so bad, I think I’ll die if I don’t get it soon.
I stumble down the stairwell, dizzy and wet, and into the dark of the night.
Outside, the campus is a museum after hours, every tree and flagpole and weathered bench pinned in shadow like an exhibit. The grass is stiff with frost, but I hardly feel it; my skin is hot, all nerves blown open from what I just watched. I half-expect to see steam trailing from my hair.
Instead, it’s only my own breath, shivering out in tiny clouds as I cross the quad. There’s an almost unreal hush. The library’s windows are black, save for the occasional shimmer of a janitor’s headlamp, and the only motion comes from a trio of rabbits performing some kind of nocturnal heist by the bike racks.
I walk with no destination, my mind replaying everything: the slap of Simone’s ass, the way Professor Thomas called her “Daddy’s little fuckslut,” the unhinged beauty of it. I try to shake the images, but they stick, raw and sweet, honey on my tongue.