Chapter 36

My panties were soaked, stuck between my thighs. I was lying under the covers, phone in hand, swiping through the screen while trying to pick some porn that would make me cum. But, like always, I got distracted. They say I’m like that — a woman who loses focus easy, the type who lets the horniness fade just to crack a laugh.

On those sites, the ads always hook me. Those are the best ones.

One in particular caught my eye as I scrolled through the photos, letting the fantasy take over. I’d never have the guts to fuck a stranger.

“But… what if I knew the guy was a total pro slut? Wouldn’t that make it less weird?”

My hands slid slowly over my body, seeking some unconscious relief, a caress disguised as a wandering thought. And then, I saw him.

“Oh my God…”

Tall, white, ripped muscles and a face that screamed pure mischief — said he was 20, but he was definitely older… 19 centimeters, key info. His eyes said it all: he knew exactly what to do with a woman. A contact number glowed next to the photo.

My finger hovered over the screen.

“Do I call… or not?”

What if I just called out of curiosity? But that’d be kinda shitty to waste his time for nothing, right? Because deep down, I knew… If I dialed that number, there’d be no turning back.

Before my mind could finish deciding, my body made the call for me.

I dialed.

“Hello?”

My heart pounded.

“Hi, um… I saw your ad and wanted to know how it works…”

My voice came out shaky. I wasn’t that kind of woman. Or maybe I was, and I’d just never let myself be.

He chuckled low on the other end.

“Good you called. The rates are in the ad, but if you want something special, just tell me. I usually come prepared for almost anything… You got any specific kinks?”

My kink? My kink was him busting through my apartment door, slamming me against the wall, fucking me like my body was his, making me climb the walls and pounding me until I couldn’t breathe. But, yeah? Giving a stranger free rein to smack me around felt a bit risky. And holy shit… what a voice this guy had. Deep, calm, confident. The kind that didn’t ask. It commanded.

“No sir, I don’t!” I had a million, but I wasn’t spilling that to a stranger. God, I’m such an idiot.

“Just send me your address and some instructions,” he went on. “And I’ll swing by to visit you.”

Silence. My mouth went dry.

“Okay… I’ll think about it.”

But I already knew the answer.

I looked down at my hand. Oh my God. It looked like I’d been beating egg whites to stiff peaks. I was touching myself without realizing. Fast. Desperate. My breathing was short, ragged, and I could barely think straight. A mix of horniness and nerves left me dizzy. The idea of opening the door, letting a guy in, him fucking me no bullshit and then leaving sounded insane. But what really scared me was how much it turned me on. Guys had done that to me before — came over, fucked me, and bounced. At least they had the decency to lie to me first.

And now?

I sent the message before my conscience could stop me.

My address. A reminder to bring condoms. And the dumbest question ever: “You take Venmo?”

Seconds later, I wanted to slap myself.

“Fuck, you idiot… of course he’s gonna bring a condom, he’s a hooker! And yeah, he takes Venmo!” I muttered to myself, laughing at my own nerves.

But the laugh died quick.

Reality hit.

Wasn’t this kinda gross? This guy must’ve been with God knows how many women before me. How many bodies, how many mixed sweats, how many pussies and asses? A shiver ran down my spine. A stab of disgust mixed with the lust, but I tried not to think about it — too late now anyway.

I was buzzing. In three hours, he’d be here. The place was tidy, I didn’t need to shave, I’d just showered, and I had nothing to do but wait. My mind was pure nerves.

I paced back and forth, bit my lips, checked my phone for no reason. Felt like a teenager waiting for her first boyfriend.

“I think I’ll bake a cake… the guy might show up tired, right?”

I stopped in the middle of the kitchen and laughed to myself.

“Oh my God, who bakes a cake for an escort?”

At least, if I froze up in the moment, we could sit and eat some cornbread cake.

Those three hours dragged longer than three days. Every minute crawled, and I checked my reflection in every surface like it was a big date. Did I put on perfume? Yeah. Everything good? Yeah. Am I ready? No clue.

And only when the intercom buzzed did I realize: I was still in my nightgown. Old. Faded. The doorman announced him. My stomach knotted. I let him up and went to the door. My hands were sweating.

When I saw him for the first time, my heart skipped and I froze with a dumb look on my face. He greeted me like we were old pals, and I didn’t know what to say. But he broke the ice by commenting on the route he took to get there.

“I can tell you’re a little nervous… We can talk about what you want or jump right in…” He made a face that made even my ass sweat.

“Uh… you want cake?” I had to say something.

He laughed.

“Maybe after.”

The way he said it caught me off guard. He was suggesting something I didn’t get at first.

“After what? Oh!” My face burned. “Like… now? Do I take my clothes off? Is it like a doctor’s visit?”

And that’s when it all unraveled. That man, who up till then seemed like an angel, turned into a flaming demon right there in front of me. He didn’t say a word. Just grabbed me by the neck with a grip that gave me goosebumps all over, and kissed me. Hot, firm, dominant. We were in the middle of the living room, but I felt like I was in a groundless void. My body feverish, surrendered. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against that hard chest, and I felt every inch of his strength. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I didn’t know shit anymore.

He settled me on the couch and looked around, like he was searching for something.

“You got some music? Something to relax to?”

“Relaxing would be good, I need it,” I thought. “Alexa, play a sex soundtrack for me.”

And she did.

The beat kicked in, and with it, the guy moved slow, staring me down. His gaze undressed me before his hands could. It made me shy, but I didn’t want him to stop. Shoes, shirt, pants… In the end, only a tight pair of briefs left, bulging with the whole package.

“No one’s ever danced for me like this,” I thought. “Gotta pay for it, huh!” I concluded.

If it was a strip show, I’d be screaming with my girls, but if I did that now, I’d wake the whole building. My hands itched to touch him, but he wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried, he’d smirk and say I was being naughty, that if I kept it up, he’d have to punish me.

“Fuck it, punish me, damn it.” I actually thought I’d have to beg.

I didn’t wait for permission. I grabbed the guy’s bulge, and he didn’t get mad. Over the briefs, I felt the hot, hard swell, soft at the same time. It throbbed and grew under my fingers, and my mouth watered.

“Gotta suck him with a condom on, right? What a bummer!” I thought.

I was having fun stroking him when he turned his back — damn, what a fine ass the man had, better kept than mine by the looks of it. Firm and skin so smooth, I yanked those briefs down in one pull. I smacked that ass a bunch while laughing in pure dominance! “It’s mine, I’m paying! Talk too much and you’ll do the dishes from the cake.” I laughed to myself.

When he finally finished his dance, his fingers tangled in the hair at my nape. With a firm grip, he tested his hold and pulled me up from the couch, making me stand. Without asking, without breaking eye contact, he yanked my top up, letting my tits bounce free.

He arched me back like I was a thing and, without hesitation, latched onto my left tit with perfect hunger. His other hand roamed my body, scratching lightly with his nails. I writhed like crazy, a weak laugh stuck on my lips, lost in the pleasure and surrender.

“Take off the panties.” His voice was firm, non-negotiable.

I obeyed without him pulling away from my tits. My skin was sensitive, goosebumped, given over to every touch. The cool night air brushed my body, heightening every sensation. I felt the whole room, the heat, the chill, his mouth.

I was delirious from the hickeys he sucked on me, held by that firm grip in my hair, controlled like an object.

And then it got even more intense.

His hand slid between my legs and the second he touched me, a jolt shot through my body, making me gasp. The nerves mixed with lust made me shake; the urgency of his touch burned on my skin, and everything inside me screamed for more. I’d always bitched about guys who went straight for it, but now here I was, surrendered, being taken rough, feeling every second and loving it. The wet sounds of me filled the room, his fingers tracing paths on my hot, throbbing flesh, teasing, testing, torturing me with precise touches — light, deep, lingering. I opened up, begging wordlessly for him to finger me, but he wouldn’t.

He seemed to be searching for something.

And when he found it, a loud moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. The tips of his fingers pressed my clit with surgical precision, switching between quick flicks and intense squeezes that swallowed my whole pussy in a cruel, delicious game. My muscles tensed, my whole body went rigid as a hot, overwhelming wave climbed my legs, spread through my belly, and consumed me without mercy. My chest heaved; I couldn’t control the sounds from my mouth anymore. Each touch pushed me closer to the edge, and when it hit, it was like my body exploded from the inside out — a raw, uncontrollable shock that made me scream, writhe, try to push him away, but he wouldn’t let me.

He held me tight, hands pinning my wrists as he forced me to ride it out to the last spasm. I was yelling, begging him to stop, and when he finally eased up, my body collapsed with him. My legs gave out, my breathing just ragged gasps, my mind floating in a void between pleasure and exhaustion. All that was left was the breathlessness, the echoes of pleasure in every inch of me, and a huge, absurd, immoral sense of satisfaction.

He pushed me onto the couch and pulled me to the edge. He was right at face level, swinging his cock like a club — big, beautiful, insanely thick, no bulging veins, smooth and perfect. He slapped my face with it, rubbed it against my skin, tested my limits, made me feel the weight of what I craved so bad. Oh my God!

Sometimes he’d shove it in my mouth and hold my head, setting the pace, using me however he wanted, and I gave in to his control, feeling a dirty, humiliating thrill that made me tremble.

“Spit on it, spit on it, you slut.”

The slap came hard across my face, followed by a deep thrust down my throat.

“You want this dry inside you?”

Another slap, another invasion.

I was already limp, submissive, his to do whatever with, but I didn’t have time to think. He shoved me back on the couch, spread my legs and hooked them over his shoulders, trapping me. I reached for him, but the bastard was faster.

I felt his cock probing my entrance, teasing, playing with my patience. I sensed every spot it brushed, each slide sending a different shiver. When he lined the head up, my body tensed like it was bracing for a scare, muscles tight, heart racing, and then he paused, leaving me in agonizing anticipation, drawing out my need before slamming in all at once, burying deep until he hit my cervix.

The shock made me gasp; my whole body clenched around him. I felt my walls giving way, welcoming every inch, opening as the friction ripped raw, overwhelming pleasure from me. It was like a perfect fit, an electric shock ripping through my core and tingling my spine. If I could stretch that first penetration feeling into forever, I wouldn’t want anything else in life.

He pulled out slow again, letting me feel every inch slide free, just to thrust back in harder, sinking to my limit, pushing my insides to unknown places. My scream mixed with a drawn-out moan as he started fucking me for real, holding my legs up, opening my body wide with no room for resistance.

The couch creaked, cushions sinking under the motion. The slap of our skin mixed with the wet, obscene sounds of his thrusts. I was swallowed by him, filled, shaped; my body learning to take this man who gave no quarter.

“That’s it, give me that pussy, fuck.”

“Fuck me harder, shit, wreck me!”

He folded me, tore me, claimed me like I was all his, and I was. My skin was on fire, nipples hard, belly tight; each thrust stealing the air from my lungs, making me forget who I was before being under him, fucked like never before.

“Harder, come on!”

His eyes devoured me, sweat dripping down his chiseled chest, and I just wanted to see more, feel more, be taken further. When I thought I was at my limit, he flipped me face-down, grabbed my waist, and impaled me hard. My face buried in the couch, nails digging into the fabric as he punished me from behind — a barrage of deep, violent thrusts that left me limp, broken, submissive to his insane rhythm.

“Holy fuck, damn it, fuck me hard!”

My head spun, mouth half-open spilling uncontrollable moans. I wasn’t in charge of shit anymore; I was just a body seized by the overwhelming pleasure he pounded into me without mercy.

The orgasm built, clawing at my belly, making me shake.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…”

My vision blacked out in a flash, an electric shock surging through my core and exploding inside. My body locked up before crumbling into uncontrolled spasms, my scream echoing through the room, my pussy throbbing around him, milking and squeezing every inch as my hot cum spread between us. I dissolved, lost in the pleasure, shattered inside and starving for more.

He growled, gripped my waist harder, sped up the thrusts, and buried deep, groaning low, muscles taut as he unloaded inside me — his cock pulsing, still hard, still wanting more.

I lay there, breathing heavy with my body hot, wet, and satisfied. I didn’t know how much time passed. Didn’t know my name. Didn’t know anything.

“Hey, now you want the cake?”

And I laughed, content — the best money I’d ever spent.

lol