Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

Story 17-chapter 3



I hadn’t had an extreme fucking like this in years, and I was even amazed by how fast I became wet,, so that he could actually slam into me. I could sense him slapping against my ass with every thrust. It was incredible.

Phil stopped pumping and abandoned his cock buried in my throat. I felt his pole twitch a split second before he started spewing his seed. It tasted fantastic and I savored the taste.

Brett was adequate enough to pause while his buddy came in my mouth, but after Phil removed himself, he picked up right where he left off. God, the guy could fuck. I came a second time, which delivered him over the border as he ejaculated into my pussy.

I had the semen from two guys in me. Instead of feeling pity for cheating on my husband, I wanted more.

Brett pulled out. Phil was ready. He rolled me over, so I laid on my belly with my legs on the floor with my butt at just the ideal height for him to mount me.

He had no problems knocking all of the way into me and began to pound me hard like Brett had.

I’d forgotten how good a hard fuck could be.

Brett got to the desk and waved his cock near my head. I opened my mouth and leaned forward to take it, but he pulled back at the last minute. He pushed again, however, when I attempted to suck it, he pulled away once more.

Brett smirked at me. “Damn, girl. You actually need this, don’t you?”

“My husband barely every fucks me anymore,” I said between Phil’s thrusts.

Phil said, “Shit, if my spouse was as sexy as you, I would be fucking her daily instead of just twice a week.” As if to prove his point, he picked up speed.

Brett continued to tease me, leaving his cock only out of reach from the mouth. “You’re a cock-starved slut, aren’t you?”Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

I was ready to confess to anything if it meant wrapping my lips around that hunk of beef. “Yes, I am. Give this slut something to suck!”

“Fine, we’ll provide you with all of the cock that’s possible to deal with.” He got close enough for me to suck on him, which I did with love.

Being fucked at both ends was something else.

They continued longer this time with Phil fucking me via a different pair of climaxes. I hadn’t cummed this much in years yet he couldn’t last forever and eventually came inside me. The moment he was finished he pulled out, leaving me feeling empty inside.

I was going to beg Brett to take over for Phil, but I felt a pair of hands on my buttocks and a hard prick pushed into my body.

Confused, I introduced the penis in my mouth and turned out to see, much to my amazement, Dean. He had a firm grip on my buttocks as he picked up where Phil had left. He wasn’t the only one.

Alongside him were his fellow interns, Chris and Larry, who were naked and pointing their hard-ons at my pussy.

I knew what Brett had proposed about giving me all the penis I could deal with. I wished to whine to the men for not clearing this with me, but I couldn’t get angry at them, not with how Dean was fucking me. Three more cocks were exactly what I wanted. In gratitude, I returned Brett’s shaft into my pussy and went to town.

He blew his load in moments, but I didn’t have an opening extended as Larry caught up on the table and fed me his cock.

The gangbang was actually happening.

The five of these guys took me in just about every combination possible within the course of the next hour. Larry, Chris and Dean arrived twice, and Brett and Phil handled yet another time each.

The interns were prepared for more, but by then I was fairly worn out and glancing off. Any protests were quickly crushed by Phil. Not wanting to anger their manager, the three younger men thanked me for a fantastic time and headed back to the picnic.

Brett and Phil were gentlemanly enough to remain together before I got back.

I could tell I was a wreck, covered in semen and perspiration. Fortunately, part of the lake which was outside the perspective of the picnickers was nearby. A fast dip in the water washed all of the apparent proof of my tryst, but I’d limped thanks to the pounding the men had given me.

It was Brett who created the notion of saying I’d strained something playing volleyball.

Once I cleaned up, we returned to the picnic from various directions.

The one thing I was worried about today was what my husband would say about my absence. I didn’t have anything to dread because he was so drunk he didn’t have the vaguest notion of how long I was gone. I sat alongside him and informed him how I was really thankful he’d had a great time, because I had a good time, too.

We remained at the picnic for another hour before going back home, yet Michael was thoroughly drunk. I assisted my husband to bed, no more irritated with him because my itch was scraped good and well.

Ever since that time I’ve remained in touch with Phil and Brett, and while we haven’t had a repeat operation, the sexual tension is still there. There’s no telling what could happen next.


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