Her Secret Gaze in the Blue Glow
# Forbidden Files The glow of his monitor cast sharp, blue shadows across Mark’s face in the dark office. The house was silent, save for the low hum of the computer and the distant, rhythmic creak of floorboards from Luna’s room upstairs.
Chapter 1
The glow of his monitor cast sharp, blue shadows across Mark’s face in the dark office. The house was silent, save for the low hum of the computer and the distant, rhythmic creak of floorboards from Luna’s room upstairs. He’d been her stepfather for three years now, a presence she skirted around with quiet, wide eyes. He was a man of few words, his muscular frame often still, his serious gaze missing nothing.
Tonight, his focus was absolute. His fingers moved with a calm, predatory precision over the keyboard, bypassing the laughably simple passwords on her laptop. The screen flickered, granting him access to her private world.
He wasn’t looking for anything in particular. Just… context. Understanding. His gaze scanned through mundane documents, playlists of melancholic indie music, until he found the hidden folder. It was labeled with a single period, a digital whisper.
He opened it.
And the air left his lungs.
There she was. Luna. Not the shy, thin girl who folded into herself at the dinner table, but a vision of breathtaking defiance. Photo after photo, taken in the soft afternoon light of her bedroom. Her brown hair was loose, cascading over slim shoulders. Her body, so often hidden beneath layers of fabric, was laid bare—pale skin, the elegant line of her spine, the delicate curve of her hips. In one, she looked over her shoulder, her expression a complex mix of vulnerability and a secret, simmering pride.
A dark, possessive heat coiled in Mark’s gut. This was hers. A secret self she shared with no one. *Especially* not with him.
He leaned back, the leather of his chair groaning softly. The initial shock settled into a cold, calculated thrill. This was a door, swung wide open. He couldn’t just… watch. He needed to interact. To possess this version of her, too.
With deliberate slowness, he created a new, encrypted account. A ghost in the machine. He selected the most provocative image—the one where her gaze was almost challenging—and attached it to a message.
**Unknown User:** *‘Found you. Such a pretty little secret to keep. I wonder what your family would think. What HE would think.’*
He paused, his thumb hovering over the trackpad. The dominance he wore like a second skin in his daily life sharpened into a fine, digital point. He typed the final line, his lips curving into a faint, ruthless smile.
**Unknown User:** *‘Let’s talk. Or this goes to everyone. Starting with Mark.’*
He hit send. The message vanished into the ether, a silent bomb planted in her world.
Upstairs, the creaking stopped. A moment later, the distinct, muffled chime of a phone notification pierced the quiet. Mark listened, perfectly still, imagining her there in her moonlit room, the blood draining from her face, her slender fingers turning cold around her device. The game was on. And he held every card.
Chapter 2
Luna’s reply came through a torrent of frantic, fragmented messages.
**Luna:** *Who is this? Please. How did you get these?*
**Luna:** *Delete them. I’ll do anything.*
**Luna:** *What do you want?*
Mark watched them flood in, each notification a soft chime in the dark that mirrored the frantic beat of his own pulse. He let the silence stretch for a full minute, letting her panic crystallize. Finally, his fingers moved.
**Unknown User:** *Anything? That’s a dangerous word, little girl. You don’t even know what I want.*
He attached another photo from her hidden folder, this one bolder. Her slim body arched, her own hand tracing a shy path down her flat stomach. The intimacy of it was a physical blow.
**Unknown User:** *Do you touch yourself thinking about him? Your serious stepdaddy, sitting right downstairs?*
Her response was immediate, a raw plea.
**Luna:** *Stop. Don’t say that.*
**Unknown User:** *Or what? You’ll cry in your pretty little room? I think you like it. I think you took these hoping someone would find them. Hoping HE would.*
He could almost hear her shaky breath through the screen. The power was a drug, thick and heady in his veins.
**Luna:** *What do I have to do to make you delete them?*
A slow, dark smile touched Mark’s lips. This was the threshold. He typed, each word a deliberate step into the forbidden.
**Unknown User:** *Prove you’re serious. Right now. I want to hear you.*
**Luna:** *Hear me?*
**Unknown User:** *You know what I mean. Use your fingers. The same ones you used in the picture. And don’t you dare be quiet.*
There was a long pause. Mark stared at the screen, his cock hard and pressing insistently against his jeans. Upstairs, the house remained silent. Then, a new message.
**Luna:** *I’m… I’m doing it.*
**Unknown User:** *Good girl. Now talk to me. Tell me how it feels.*
Another agonizing minute passed. His demand hung in the digital space between them, a test of her submission. When her next message appeared, the words were a trembling confession.
**Luna:** *It’s… shameful. My skin is so hot. I feel so exposed.*
**Unknown User:** *You are exposed. To me. Now be more specific. Are you wet?*
A soft, broken sob seemed to echo in the text of her reply.
**Luna:** *Yes.*
**Unknown User:** *For me? Or for the thought of him finding out?*
He waited, commanding the silence. Her answer, when it came, was everything.
**Luna:** *For you. God, for you.*
Victory, hot and possessive, clenched in Mark’s gut. He leaned forward, the glow of the monitor etching the sharp lines of his face. The game was no longer just about possession. It was about creation. He was sculpting her desire, and she was yielding, beautifully.
**Unknown User:** *Then keep going. And don’t stop until I say you can.*
Chapter 3
The silence that followed her confession was thick and electric. Mark leaned forward in his chair, the leather groaning under his shifted weight. His own hand drifted down, palming the hard outline of his cock through his jeans. The power was absolute, intoxicating.
**Unknown User:** *Good girl. Now, I want a picture. A new one. Right now.*
Luna’s response was instant, panicked.
**Luna:** *I can’t. He’s downstairs. He might hear.*
**Unknown User:** *That’s the point. Be quick. Be quiet. I want to see your face while you’re still wet for me. Use the camera on your laptop. Now.*
Upstairs, he heard the faint, distinct click of her laptop latch opening. His heart hammered against his ribs. He waited, staring at his own screen, imagining her frantic movements—the soft shuffle of her comforter, the pale glow of her screen illuminating her bare skin.
A new file appeared in the encrypted transfer window. He opened it.
It was better than he’d dreamed. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, the laptop propped before her. Her brown hair was tangled, her lips slightly parted. Her slim hand was tucked between her thighs, hiding the most intimate part, but the shame and desperate arousal in her wide, dark eyes was a naked confession. The thin strap of her tank top had fallen off one shoulder.
**Unknown User:** *Look at you. My perfect, secret girl. Move your hand. Let me see.*
**Luna:** *Please…*
**Unknown User:** *Now.*
Another image loaded. She had obeyed. Her small hand was splayed over her pale mound, two slender fingers just barely parted, glistening in the low light. The submission in the pose was utter, complete.
A low, ragged breath escaped Mark. He typed, his fingers feeling thick and clumsy.
**Unknown User:** *Touch yourself. Like you were before. And this time, describe it to me. Every detail. Use your words.*
He watched the typing indicator appear and vanish, as if she were fighting with herself. Finally, her message came.
**Luna:** *I’m so embarrassed. My skin is on fire. My fingers are… slippery. It feels so much better when I’m thinking about you watching.*
**Unknown User:** *Are you thinking about my hands on you? Or my cock?*
A whimper seemed to vibrate through the text.
**Luna:** *Both. I’m thinking about your hands on my throat. And your… cock. Pushing inside me. I’m so empty.*
The raw, vulgar need in her words sent a shock of pure lust straight to his groin. He unzipped his jeans, freeing his aching length, wrapping his own fist around it. The pre-cum beaded at the tip, slick and hot.
**Unknown User:** *Tell me where you want it. Be specific.*
Her reply was a broken whisper in digital form.
**Luna:** *In my pussy. First. Stretching me. And then… my ass. I want to feel you there, too. I want you to use me.*
Mark’s stroking grew harder, faster, matching the frantic pace of his heart. He was sculpting her, and she was yielding, becoming his perfect creation. The boundary between stepfather and stranger dissolved in the dark, leaving only predator and prey, master and instrument.
**Unknown User:** *You will. Soon. But not tonight. Tonight, you finish for me. Let go. Let me hear you come.*
He stopped his own motion, denying himself, focusing only on her submission. The tension coiled, a live wire strung between their separate rooms, waiting for her to snap.
Chapter 4
The house was a tomb of held breath. Upstairs, Luna’s silence stretched for so long Mark thought she’d broken the connection. Then, his screen flickered.
**Luna:** *I’m close.*
The two words were a plea and a confession. Mark’s cock twitched in his hand, heavy and slick. He forced himself to stop stroking, to focus entirely on her unraveling.
**Unknown User:** *Tell me what’s happening. In your voice.*
A soft, shaky audio file appeared. He clicked it, turning the volume low. Her breath filled his headphones, a ragged, wet rhythm that was unmistakably sexual. Then her voice, thin and broken.
“My… my whole body is shaking. My fingers are so wet. I can feel my heart beating… there. It’s so deep. I need…”
**Unknown User:** *You need what? Say it.*
In the audio, a sharp, stifled gasp. “I need to come. Please.”
The raw need in her whisper was a fire in his blood. He typed, each key press a command.
**Unknown User:** *Not yet. I own that. You come when I say. Slow down. Use just one finger. Tease that tight little hole you said you wanted me to use.*
He heard a whimper through the headphones, followed by a soft, slick sound. Her breathing hitched.
“It’s… so small. It feels wrong. It feels *so* good.”
**Unknown User:** *Do you imagine it’s my cock? Stretching you open there while you play with your pussy?*
“Yes,” she moaned, the word dissolving into a shuddering sigh. “God, yes. I’m picturing you behind me. Holding my hips. Telling me I’m your good girl while you… while you wreck my ass.”
Mark’s control frayed. A low groan escaped him as he fisted his cock again, his thumb swiping over the leaking tip. He was so hard it was a dull ache.
**Unknown User:** *You will be. But right now, I want to hear you beg for your pussy to come. Beg for me to allow it.*
The audio crackled with her desperate, panting breaths. “Please. Please, let me come. I’m so empty and I need it. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything after, just… please let me finish.”
The submission was absolute. Perfect. He let the silence hang, letting her plead hang in the digital void, letting her tremble on the edge where he held her.
**Unknown User:** *Then come. Now. Let me hear everything.*
The sound that came through was not a scream, but a choked, sobbing release. It was the sound of a girl shattering under a command. He heard the frantic, wet slaps of her fingers, her broken cries, the creak of her bed as her body convulsed. Mark watched his screen, his own orgasm a coiled, denied pressure in his gut, a sacrifice to the power of her obedience. The aftershocks in her breathing were the only sound, a beautiful, ruined rhythm in the dark.
Chapter 5
The command arrived the next morning as Luna was eating a silent breakfast, Mark reading the paper across the table.
**Unknown User:** *New rule. For the next three days, whenever you’re alone in the house with him, you wear something specific. A low-cut top. Something that shows off those pretty little tits and your belly. I want you to tease him. I want to know if he looks.*
She nearly choked on her toast. Her eyes flickered up. Mark hadn’t moved, his serious face hidden behind the business section, his muscular forearms resting on the table. The idea was a new kind of terror. This wasn’t hidden in the dark with a screen between them. This was in the light, in the open air of their home.
**Luna:** *He’ll know. He’ll see right through me.*
**Unknown User:** *That’s the game. Now go change. He’s leaving for work in twenty minutes. I want a picture of the outfit before he goes.*
Her hands trembled as she cleared her plate. Upstairs, she rifled through her drawers, her heart a frantic bird in her chest. She found an old, thin cotton tank top she’d slept in. It was faded and soft, the neckline stretched from wear. She pulled it on, the fabric draping low. Without a bra, the swell of her small breasts was clearly visible, the pale skin of her sternum and flat stomach exposed. She felt naked.
She took a picture in her mirror, her face a mask of shy dread, and sent it.
**Unknown User:** *Perfect. Now go downstairs. Sit in the living room where he’ll see you.*
The house was quiet. Mark’s keys jingled as he gathered his things by the door. Luna curled into the corner of the large sofa, a book open but unread in her lap. She felt the cool air from the vent brush her exposed skin, her nipples tightening against the thin cloth.
She heard his footsteps pause. She didn’t look up, but she felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, sweeping over her bare shoulders, down the revealed valley of her chest, over her slim midriff. The silence stretched, thick and humming.
“Cold?” His voice was low, neutral.
She jumped, finally meeting his eyes. They were dark, unreadable. “A little,” she whispered, her voice thin.
His stare held for a second longer, dropping once more to the neckline of her top before he gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. “Turn the heat up if you need to.”
Then he was gone, the front door closing with a solid thud that echoed through the suddenly empty house. Luna slumped, a shaky breath escaping her. Her phone chimed immediately.
**Unknown User:** *Well?*
**Luna:** *He looked. He asked if I was cold.*
**Unknown User:** *Did he like what he saw?*
**Luna:** *I don’t know. His face doesn’t change.*
**Unknown User:** *It will. Keep wearing it. Tomorrow, I want you to bend over in front of him. Reach for something on a low shelf. Let’s see how much control your serious stepdaddy really has.*
The order settled in her gut, a dark, thrilling flutter. The game had left her screen and was now breathing in the same air as Mark. She was the bait, and her blackmailer was watching, waiting for the predator to take it.
Chapter 6
The command was waiting for her when she came home from her afternoon classes.
**Unknown User:** *Tonight. After dinner. You’re going to show him something. I want you to tell him your back hurts. Ask him to rub it for you. You’ll be on the couch, on your stomach. You’ll wear those little sleep shorts and a tank top. No bra. Understand?*
Luna’s stomach turned to ice, then to liquid fire. This was the most direct order yet, a collision course engineered in the open.
**Luna:** *He’ll say no. He’ll know something’s wrong.*
**Unknown User:** *He won’t. He’s your stepfather. You’re in pain. He’ll help. And I’ll be watching. Every twitch, every breath. Now go get ready.*
Dinner was a quiet torment. Mark ate methodically, his tattooed forearms resting on the table. Luna picked at her food, her mind screaming. When the meal was done, she forced herself to speak, her voice a fragile thread.
“Mark?”
He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Yeah?”
“My… my back is really tight. From my bag, I think. Would you… could you just…?” She trailed off, the request hanging in the air, humiliating and obvious.
He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he gave a single, slow nod. “Alright. Go lay down. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she walked to the living room. The soft cotton shorts rode high on her thighs, the tank top thin and loose. She lay face down on the couch, her cheek pressed against a cushion, every nerve ending alive.
She heard his heavy footsteps approach, then stop. The couch dipped under his weight as he sat beside her hip. His hands, large and warm, settled on her shoulders. The touch was electric, clinical at first, kneading the tension from her muscles.
“Here?” His voice was a low rumble, closer than she’d expected.
“Mmmhmm,” she managed, a soft sound that wasn’t entirely pretend.
His hands moved lower, down the line of her spine. His thumbs pressed into the small of her back, his fingers splaying wide, dangerously close to the swell of her ass. The thin barrier of her shorts and top felt like nothing. She could feel the heat of his palms, the faint roughness of his skin.
“You’re all knotted up,” he murmured, his voice dropping. One hand slid lower, the heel of his palm pressing firmly against the top curve of her backside. A jolt shot straight to her core, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp.
His other hand came up, his fingers brushing the side of her neck, pushing her hair aside. His touch lingered there, possessive and warm. “Just relax,” he said, the words a soft command. His hand on her lower back began to move in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure intimate, claiming.
She was melting into the couch, into his touch. Her breath hitched. This was no longer a simple massage. His dominance filled the room, a physical force pressing her down. She was presenting herself to him, and he was taking the offering, his hands mapping her submission.
“Feel better?” he asked, his voice a dark whisper near her ear.
“Yes,” she breathed, the word a surrender.
His circling hand drifted even lower, his fingertips tracing the hem of her shorts where it met her skin. He didn’t go further. He didn’t need to. The promise was there, thick in the air between them. He held her there, on that exquisite edge, his control absolute and terrifyingly calm. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words and the slow, deliberate rhythm of his hands claiming what was now, undeniably, his.
Chapter 7
His hand stilled, his fingers a breath away from the hem of her shorts. The heat of his palm seemed to brand her skin through the thin cotton. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a dark, private rumble that vibrated through her.
“He’s listening,” Mark whispered, the words coating her in a fresh layer of shame. “Your little secret friend. He wants to hear you beg for more. He wants you to tell him exactly how this feels. So tell him.”
His fingers began to move again, tracing slow, deliberate circles lower, skating along the very top of the crease where her ass met her thigh. The pressure was maddening, a promise and a torment.
“I… I can’t,” Luna gasped, her face burning into the cushion.
His other hand came up to cup the back of her neck, holding her gently but firmly in place. “You can. And you will. Or I stop right now, and he gets to decide what happens next.” His circling finger dipped lower, just a fraction, applying a firm, thrilling pressure. “Describe it.”
A broken sound escaped her. Her hips pressed down into the couch of their own volition. “Your hands… they’re so hot. I can feel your calluses.”
“Where?” he commanded softly, his finger tracing that forbidden line again.
“There,” she whimpered. “Right where you’re touching. At the… at the very edge. It’s like a… a burning line. I feel it everywhere.” Her confession spilled out, raw and desperate. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please don’t stop. Please, I need… more.” She was begging, just as he’d ordered, her voice thick with humiliated need.
His finger slid lower, just under the elastic band of her shorts, a shocking inch of direct contact on her sensitive skin. She cried out, her body jerking.
“Tell him,” Mark growled, his own breath becoming uneven.
“It’s too much,” she sobbed, her words shuddering. “You’re so close to my… my pussy. I can feel how wet I am. I’m aching. I want your fingers to slip lower. I want you to touch me there. Please, Mark. I’m begging you.”
Her explicit, whispered plea hung in the silent room. For a long, excruciating moment, he did nothing but let his fingertip rest on that burning strip of skin under her waistband, a master holding his pet on a razor’s edge. Then, with a controlled exhalation, he slowly withdrew his hand, letting it rest possessively on the small of her back.
“Good girl,” he murmured, the praise a darker form of domination than any touch. “He heard every word. Now he knows exactly what you are.”
Chapter 8
His praise was a drug, potent and humiliating. Luna shuddered under the weight of his hand, still anchored on her lower back. The silence stretched, thick with what she’d just confessed. Her phone, lying face-down on the coffee table, buzzed once. They both heard it.
Mark’s gaze flicked to the device, then back to her. “He’s impatient,” he said, his voice low. “He wants to know what happens next. Tell me, Luna. What do you think happens next?”
She couldn’t turn her head, couldn’t meet his eyes. Her voice was a threadbare whisper. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.” His hand slid from her back, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts and panties. “You told him exactly what you wanted. You begged for it.” With a slow, deliberate pull, he began to drag the fabric down her thighs. The cool air of the living room kissed her exposed skin, making her gasp. “Now he gets to watch you get it.”
The shorts pooled at her knees, trapping her. She was utterly exposed to him from behind, her ass bare, her pussy slick and vulnerable. A raw, terrified excitement locked her in place.
“Look at you,” Mark murmured, his tone a dark caress. He placed a broad, hot palm on the curve of her ass, possessive and assessing. “Soaked just from my hand on your back. Just from a few words.” He leaned close again, his lips a breath from her ear. “He’s listening. Describe this. Tell him how it feels to have your stepfather undress you.”
“It’s… shameful,” she breathed, hips twitching involuntarily. “I’m completely bare. You can see everything. I can feel how wet I am, it’s… it’s dripping. Your hand is so big. It’s covering me.”
“And this?” he asked, his middle finger sliding down the crease of her ass, not touching her pussy yet, tracing a slow, maddening path lower until the pad of his finger brushed against her tight, forbidden hole.
She cried out, a sharp, broken sound. “There! Oh god, *there*.”
“What’s there?” he demanded, applying the faintest pressure.
“My… my ass,” she whimpered, the crude word feeling like a brand. “You’re touching my ass. It’s so sensitive. It’s making my pussy clench.”
His finger retreated, only to return, this time slick with her own arousal. He circled the tight, nervous ring of muscle, coating it. “He wants to know if you’ve ever been touched here before.”
“No,” she sobbed, pushing back against his finger, her body betraying her utterly. “Never.”
“Do you want me to?” The question was a blade, poised.
Her world narrowed to that single point of contact, to the terrifying, explicit fantasy he was invoking. The silence was her answer, and it was damning.
“Use your words, girl.”
“Yes,” she gasped, the admission tearing from her. “Please, Mark. I want it.”
Chapter 9
The permission was a key turning in a lock deep inside her. Mark’s finger, slick and insistent, breached the tight ring of muscle with one slow, burning push. Luna cried out, her body arching violently against the couch cushions, her hands fisting in the fabric.
“There it is,” he growled, his voice thick with dark satisfaction. “Just like you asked for. Tell him how it feels.”
“It’s… it’s so much,” she gasped, her hips instinctively trying to retreat from the unfamiliar, overwhelming fullness. His other hand clamped on her hip, holding her firm. “It burns. You’re stretching me open. I can feel every inch.”
“And your pussy?” he demanded, his finger working deeper in a slow, corkscrew motion. “What’s it doing?”
“It’s throbbing,” she sobbed, shameless. “It’s dripping down my thighs. It wants to be filled, too. God, it aches.”
“Good girl,” he praised, the words a hot brand. He added a second finger beside the first, the stretch becoming a sharp, breathtaking burn that made her vision swim. “You take it so well. You were made for this. To be opened up. Used.”
He began to fuck her ass with his fingers in a steady, punishing rhythm. Each stroke pulled a ragged moan from her throat, each withdrawal left her clenching around nothing, desperate for the intrusion again. The dual sensations—the sharp, illicit fullness in her backside and the empty, weeping ache of her pussy—drove her to the edge of sanity.
“Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I need more. I need something else. I can’t… I’m going to come just from this.”
“Not yet,” he commanded, his voice a steel cable holding her back from the cliff. He withdrew his fingers completely, leaving her gaping and empty, a whimper of pure loss tearing from her lips. She felt the broad, hot head of his cock press against her wet, desperate pussy instead. “This first. You’ll take me here, while you tell him how empty your ass feels without me in it.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He drove into her pussy in one long, devastating stroke, filling the unbearable emptiness she’d just described. Luna screamed, a raw sound of relief and shock, her inner walls clamping down around his thick, invading length.
“Talk,” he ordered, setting a deep, relentless pace. “Now.”
“You’re inside me,” she choked out, each thrust punctuating her words. “So deep. My pussy is… it’s gripping you. It’s so full. But my ass… it’s empty. It’s clenching, begging for you. It misses you. I miss you there. I want you in both places. I want to be completely filled.”
Chapter 10
“You want to be completely filled?” Mark rasped, his hips driving into her with a force that shook the couch. “You greedy little thing. You want your stepfather to wreck both your holes?”
“Yes,” Luna sobbed, the profanity from his lips sending a fresh shock of heat through her core. “Please, Mark. I need it.”
He pulled out of her pussy suddenly, his cock glistening with her arousal. The cool air on her wet, sensitized flesh made her gasp. Before she could plead, his hands were on her, rough and commanding, flipping her onto her stomach. He pulled her hips up until she was on her knees, her face pressed into the cushion, her ass presented to him.
“This is what you really want, isn’t it?” he growled, his palm coming down on one pale cheek in a sharp, stinging slap. She cried out, her back arching. “To be taken like this. To be used in your dirtiest place.”
He positioned himself, the broad head of his cock pressing not against her pussy, but against the tight, forbidden pucker he’d already opened with his fingers. She was slick there, too, from her own desperate leaking and his earlier invasion.
“Tell him you’re ready,” Mark ordered, his voice a dark caress. “Tell him you’re begging for your stepfather’s cock in your ass.”
“I’m ready,” she whimpered, pushing her hips back in a silent, shameless plea. “I’m begging for it. Please, fuck my ass. I want to feel you there. I want to feel owned.”
He pushed forward, a slow, burning invasion that stole the breath from her lungs. It was a fuller, deeper stretch than his fingers, a claiming that made her feel split open and utterly possessed. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside her, his body pressed against her upturned ass, his groan vibrating through her.
“God, you’re tight,” he hissed, his hands gripping her hips like vices. “So fucking tight and hot. You take it so well, Luna. You were made for this.”
He began to move, setting a deep, punishing rhythm that rocked her whole body forward with each thrust. The friction was incredible, a sharp, bright pain that blurred seamlessly into overwhelming pleasure. Each stroke brushed against that sensitive inner wall, sending jolts of electricity straight to her throbbing clit.
“Talk to him,” Mark commanded, his pace relentless. “Describe it. Every filthy inch.”
“He’s inside my ass,” she moaned, the words torn from her. “It’s so deep. I can feel every… every ridge of his cock. It’s stretching me open. I’m so full. It burns, but it feels so good. My pussy is dripping, it’s so empty without him. I can feel my own wetness running down my thighs.”
“Are you going to come?” he demanded, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving her face deeper into the cushion. “Are you going to come from getting your ass fucked like a cheap slut?”
“Yes,” she screamed, the tension coiling unbearably tight in her belly. “Oh God, yes, I’m going to come. Please, let me come. Please!”
His hand snaked around her hip, his fingers finding her swollen, neglected clit. He pressed and circled, the direct contact tipping her instantly over the edge.
Her climax ripped through her with a violence that left her blind and deaf, a silent scream locked in her throat as her body convulsed around his invading length. Her inner muscles clamped down in rhythmic, pulsing waves, milking the cock buried in her ass. She shook, sobbing through the endless release, completely obliterated by the sensation.
Through the haze, she felt his rhythm stutter, grow ragged. He was close. He was using her tight heat to push himself toward his own peak, her shattered pleasure fueling his.