Chapter 2097 - App 51

The hotel where I took her was a tower of glass and gold, the kind of place where the staff knew better than to ask questions. I'd booked the presidential suite.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, the city noise faded into silence. It was just us. The air between us was thick with anticipation, with the scent of her perfume and the ghost of her moans still clinging to my skin.

Julie hesitated in the foyer, her fingers twisting in the hem of her dress. "I want to take a shower, but I don't have any clothes," she admitted, her voice small.

I cupped her face, tilting her chin up until her eyes met mine. "I know." My thumb brushed her lower lip. "Go shower. I'll take care of everything."

She searched my face for a long moment, then nodded, slipping into the bathroom. The sound of the water starting up filled the silence, steam curling under the door. I waited until I heard the distinct click of the lock engaging—Julie, ever cautious—before I moved.

The wedding dress was heavier than I expected. Not in weight, but in meaning. I pulled it from the System storage with deliberate care, the fabric whispering against my fingers like a secret. Ivory silk, delicate lace, a cascade of tiny pearl buttons down the back—every detail designed to make her look like a dream. My dream.

I laid it out on the vanity in the dressing room, smoothing the skirt with slow, deliberate hands. The fabric was cool beneath my palms, pristine, untouched—just like Julie had been before me. Well, almost pristine. The thought sent a jolt of heat through me, my cock already half-hard just imagining her in it. Bare beneath it.

Then I knocked on the bathroom door. "Julie. Your clothes are out here."

Silence. The water shut off with a final hiss, the sudden quiet thick with anticipation. "Okay," she called, her voice muffled by the door, by steam, by the racing of my own pulse. "Thank you."

I didn't answer. Words weren't needed. Not when the air between us was already charged with something far more potent.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and texted Hannah.

Not because I wanted to. But because I had to.

One wrong move, one unchecked spark of her jealousy, and she'd torch everything—Julie's happiness, this night, the fragile balance I'd spent months maintaining. The message was short. Deliberate. A warning wrapped in civility.

"Taking Julie away for the night. No interruptions."

The reply came instantly. Three dots pulsed on the screen—Hannah typing, deleting, typing again. I could practically see her on the other end, lips pressed into a thin line, fingers gripping her phone too tightly. Finally, her response appeared:

"You're lucky I like you, Jack. But you have to take me on a date."

I smirked, thumbs flying over the screen. "Next time. I promise."

I didn't wait for her reply. Didn't care. Silencing my phone, I tossed it onto the bed like it was nothing—because right now, it was. The only thing that mattered was the soft click of the bathroom lock disengaging. The slow, deliberate turn of the handle.

And then—

The door swung open.

Julie stepped out, naked, her skin still glistening from the shower, droplets sliding down the curve of her spine, the swell of her breasts. She was wiping herself with a towel, distracted, until her eyes landed on the dress lying out before her.

She froze.

The towel slipped from her fingers, pooling at her feet. "Jack..." Her voice was a breathless gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. "This—what—?"

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, drinking in the sight of her—flushed, stunned, perfect. "This is for my wife," I said, my voice rough with possession. "I want to see you in it."

Julie's eyes shimmered, her lips parting in a smile so bright it was almost blinding. "Wait," she whispered, already backing toward the dressing room, her cheeks pink. "I'll be right back. And no peeking." She pointed a finger at me, playful but firm, before disappearing inside and shutting the door with a decisive click.

I chuckled, shaking my head. Like I'd ever let her have that kind of control.

The wait was torture.

I could hear the rustle of fabric, the soft shhh of the dress sliding over her skin, the occasional muffled curse as she fumbled with the buttons. My cock throbbed, impatient, my mind already racing ahead to how I'd tear the damn thing off her later.

Then—finally—the door creaked open.

Julie stepped out, and fuck.

Julie stood before me, her body trembling not from cold but from the way I was looking at her—like I wanted to devour her. The ivory silk clung to her curves, the lace hugging her waist before flaring out in a cascade of fabric that whispered against her thighs.

But it was the betrayal of the dress that had my cock throbbing: the way her hard nipples pressed against the thin material, the shadow of her bare pussy beneath the layers, the knowledge that she was completely naked underneath.

"You look..." My voice was a gravelly snarl, fingers already tracing the stupid little pearls down her spine like they were obstacles to be destroyed. The heat of her skin burned through the fabric, her breath hitching as I circled her like a wolf sizing up dinner. "Too fucking perfect."

Her lips parted—"Jack, we can't just—"—but I didn't let her finish.

One arm hooked under her knees, the other crushing her against my chest as I lifted her like she weighed nothing and slammed her down onto the bed. The mattress groaned under her, the white monstrosity of her wedding dress pooling around her like a surrender flag.

My mouth crashed onto hers, teeth clashing, tongue forcing its way past her lips like I was already fucking her there. She whimpered into it, her fingers clawing at my shoulders—finally something honest in this goddamn charade.

I pulled my mouth away, breathing hard as I drank in the sight of her sprawled out in that stupid, lying dress.

The neckline was all prim little lace, the fabric clinging to her tits like it was afraid to let go. I grabbed her tits and was going to tear her dress to let her tits out.

"Jack, the dress—!" Julie's voice was half protest as she noticed what I was upto.

"I don't give a fuck about the dress."

With one brutal yank, I tore the fabric straight down the middle, the sound of ripping lace and popping buttons like gunfire in the silent room.

Her tits spilled free, heavy and pale, nipples hard as fucking diamonds—dark pink, already pebbled, begging for my mouth. The cool air hit them, and they tightened even more, the little buds standing up like they were asking for my teeth.

"Oh my—! Jack, you ruined it!" Julie's hands flew up to cover herself, but I snatched her wrists, pinning them above her head.

"Good," I growled, my free hand already sliding down, fingers hooking into the delicate lace between her thighs. "Now I get to ruin you too."

She squirmed as I tugged, the fabric resisting for half a second before giving way with a wet, tearing sound. The last barrier shredded, and there it was—her cunt, bare and dripping, lips already swollen, glistening with arousal.

The scent of her hit me like a punch—musky, sweet, thick with need—and I groaned, my cock throbbing against my zipper.

My tongue was buried in her cunt, fucking her like I was trying to devour her soul. Julie's pussy was dripping, her juices coating my chin, her thighs shaking as I plunged my tongue deep inside her, curling it to hit that spot that made her scream.

My nose rubbed against her clit, my fingers spreading her open so I could see every inch of her—swollen, glistening, begging for more.

"Aaaaaah—! Fuck—! Jack—!Just like that—!" Her fingers clawed at my hair, her hips bucking against my face. "I'm gonna—! I'm gonna—!"

"Then fucking cum," I growled against her pussy, my voice muffled by her flesh. "Cum all over my tongue, you dirty girl." My thumb pressed against her tight asshole, teasing the entrance, making her whimper.

Then she shoved me back, her eyes wild, her lips swollen from biting them. "My turn," she panted, ripping at my belt. "I want that cock in my throat."

Before I could even react, she flipped, her soaking pussy slamming onto my face as she straddled me backward. The heat of her cunt smothered me, her juices dripping onto my lips as she ground against my mouth. "Lick me, Jack," she ordered, her voice rough. "Make me cum while I suck you off."

I grabbed her ass, my fingers digging into her flesh as I buried my tongue in her pussy again, fucking her with it. She moaned, her hips rolling, her cunt gushing all over my face. My thumb pushed against her asshole, breaching the tight ring just enough to make her gasp turn into a scream.

"Fuck—! Yes!" she cried, her body trembling as I ate her out like a starving animal.

Then I felt her hot, wet mouth engulf my cock.

"Holy shit—!" My head snapped back as she took me to the root, her throat convulsing around the head. She gagged, saliva dripping down my balls, but she didn't pull back, just bobbed her head, her lips sealed tight around my shaft.

The sloppy, wet sounds of her choking on my cock filled the room, her nose pressed against my skin as she deep-throated me like a fucking pro.

"That's it, baby," I groaned, my hips lifting off the bed, fucking up into her throat. "Take that cock. All of it." I grabbed her hair, holding her down as I thrust deeper, my cock hitting the back of her throat.

She gagged, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't stop, her hand stroking the base as she bobbed her head, her lips milking me.

"Look at you," I growled, my voice rough. "Choking on my cock like a good little slut." My thumb pressed deeper into her ass, stretching her as I licked her clit, my tongue flicking it in fast, brutal circles.

"Mmm—fuck—!" she gurgled, her throat fluttering around my cock.

I fucked up into her mouth, harder, deeper, my balls slapping against her chin. "You love this, don't you?" I snarled, my grip on her hair tightening. "Love being my fucking cocksleeve."

She moaned around my dick, the vibrations sending shocks straight to my balls. Her pussy pulsed against my tongue, her ass clenching around my thumb as I pushed deeper, stretching her just enough to make her whine.

"I'm gonna cum, Jack—!" she gasped, pulling off my cock just long enough to pant. "I'm gonna cum all over your face—!"

"Do it," I snarled, licking her clit in fast, brutal circles. "Come for me, Julie. Drench me."

Her back arched, her pussy convulsing as she screamed, her juices flooding my mouth. I drank her down, my tongue flicking her clit as she rode out her orgasm, her thighs locking around my head.

Then she dropped back onto my cock, her throat opening for me as she took me deep again. "Mmm—fuck—!" she gurgled, her lips stretched obscenely around my shaft.

I couldn't hold back anymore.

"Julie—I'm gonna cum—!" I growled, my balls tightening as my cock twitched.

She pulled back just enough to stroke me, her hand flying over my cock as she licked the head, her eyes locked on mine. "Cum for me, Jack," she purred, her voice husky. "Paint my face."

That was all it took.

With a roar, I exploded, thick ropes of cum blasting across her cheeks, her lips, her open mouth. She moaned, her tongue catching the first spurt before the rest splattered over her flushed skin. "Mmm... so much," she murmured, her fingers scooping up the cum dripping down her chin and sucking it clean.

I collapsed back, breathing hard, my cock still twitching as she crawled up my body, her cum-covered face hovering over mine. "Still think we should've waited for the honeymoon?" she smirked, her lips glistening with my release.

I grabbed her hair, yanking her into a filthy kiss, tasting myself on her tongue. "Fuck the honeymoon," I growled. "I'm gonna ruin you long before then."

She grinned, wicked and wild, her wedding dress shredded, her body glowing with sweat and cum. "Promise?"

I flipped her onto her back, my cock already hardening again. "Oh, baby," I growled, positioning myself between her legs. "I'm just getting started."

"You don't think you're gonna get it easy, do you?"

Her grin faltered for half a second—just long enough for me to laugh, dark and low, as the power thrummed through my veins. My body pulsed, the flesh twisting, expanding—and then, with a wet, obscene sound, a second cock burst from my groin, thick and veined, the head swollen like a fucking war club.

Julie's eyes blew wide. "What the—?!"

No time to explain.

I grabbed her hips, flipped her onto her stomach, and yanked her ass up—her shredded wedding dress pooling around her waist, her soaking pussy and tight asshole on full display. Both my cocks twitched, precum dripping from the tips, the heads engorged, ridged, monstrous.

"AAAAAAAAAH—!"

I slammed home.

Both cocks at once.

Her pussy stretched obscenely around the first, her walls clenching in shock as I buried myself to the hilt. The second breached her ass in one brutal thrust, her tight ring burning as it split around my girth. The double penetration was too much—her body convulsed, her back arching like a bowstring as she screamed, her voice cracking.

"FUCK—! HM—! AAAAAAAAAAH—!" Her fingers clawed at the sheets, her toes curling, her entire body shuddering as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. "IT'S—! TOO—! BIG—!"

"Good," I growled, my hips pistoning forward, fucking her with both cocks in deep, relentless strokes. The squish of her pussy and the lewd stretch of her ass filled the room, the slap of my skin against hers echoing like a fucking war drum.

Her walls fluttered, her ass clenching, her juices gushing around my cocks as I pounded into her. "You're taking it," I snarled, my grip on her hips bruising. "Every. Fucking. Inch."

"I—I CAN'T—!" she sobbed, her voice breaking as another orgasm wrecked her. "IT'S TOO MUCH—! I'M GONNA—! AAAAH—!"

I leaned down, my mouth right by her ear, my breath hot. "You're gonna take it," I growled. "And you're gonna love it."

Then I fucked her harder.

Her screams turned feral, her body jerking with every brutal thrust. The double fullness was too much, her mind short-circuiting as her pussy and ass milked my cocks. "JACK—! PLEASE—! I'M GONNA—!"

"Cum," I ordered, my voice a dark command. "Cum on, my cocks like the filthy slut you are."

And she did.

Her back arched, her entire body locking up as her orgasm exploded through her. "AAAAAAAAAAH—! FUCK—! FUCK—!" Her pussy pulsed, her ass clenching, her juices flooding around me as she came so hard she saw stars.

I wasn't done.

With a roar, I flipped her onto her back, hooking her legs over my shoulders. "Look at me," I demanded, my two cocks glistening with her cum. "Watch me fuck you."

Her eyes rolled back as I slammed home again, both cocks burying themselves inside her. "JACK—! IT'S—! TOO DEEP—!"

"Not deep enough," I growled, my hips snapping forward, fucking her with both cocks in long, punishing strokes. The sound of her body taking me was obscene—wet, messy, perfect.

Her tits bounced, her nipples hard, her skin flushed as she took every inch. "I'M GONNA—! I'M GONNA—!"

"Then fucking cum," I snarled, my balls tightening.

And she did.

Her pussy convulsed, her ass clenching, her entire body shuddering as she came again, her screams raw and broken. "AAAAAAAAH—! JACK—! I'M CUMMMMING Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah —!"

I couldn't hold back anymore.

With a final, brutal thrust, I exploded—both cocks pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside her. "TAKE IT," I roared, my release filling her as she screamed, her body milking me for every last drop.

Then I collapsed on top of her, my cock still twitching inside her, her body trembling beneath me.

She panted, her voice ragged. "What... the fuck... was that?"

I grinned, wicked, my cum dripping out of her. "Your wedding present, baby."

She laughed, breathless, her body still shuddering. "I hate you."

I bit her lip, hard. "No, you don't."

My cock shrank back to normal, still half-hard and glistening with her cum as I pulled out. Julie whimpered, her thighs trembling, her pussy leaking my release onto the sheets.

I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me, her body fitting perfectly against mine—as if crafted to do so. We drifted off to sleep like that—sticky, exhausted, and utterly satisfied.

The next morning, we both stepped into the shower. The hot water pounded against my skin, washing away the remnants of the night—yet the memory of Julie's gasp as she choked on my cock, her body stretched around me, her screams still echoed vividly in my mind.

She leaned against the tiles, her body marked—bite marks on her shoulders, finger-shaped bruises on her hips, her thighs still glistening from last night.

After the shower, I handed Julie a dress I had bought from the SUDIX Store. She slipped into it, then asked me to gather her ragged, torn wedding dress. I carefully stored it in the system storage. Afterwards, I took Julie in my arms and we flew back to her home.

The front door creaked open, and there was Hannah, kneeling by an open suitcase, her brow furrowed in concentration. She glanced up, her eyes narrowing when she saw Julie's smug expression.

"Mom," Hannah demanded, hands on her hips. "Where did Jack take you yesterday?"

Julie held up her hand, the wedding ring catching the light. "Oh, you know..." she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Just a little private celebration."

Hannah's face twisted. "Private? What does that—" Her mouth dropped open. "Oh my God, He gave you a ring!"

Hannah glared at me, but her fingers flew over the screen. "You both are really the worst. You both didn't tell me anything. You guys don't love me anymore," she muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

Hannah's face puffed in annoyance. "That's not fair!" She whirled around, snatching her phone. "I'm telling Haruna!"

Julie sauntered over, ruffling her daughter's hair. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, sweetie."

Julie laughed, unfazed, as Hannah stabbed at her screen and went inside her room, calling Haruna.

I chuckled, pulling out my own phone. "SERA, book a private plane. We leave in two hours."

Julie went to her room and started packing her belongings. I headed to Hannah's room, where she was talking with Haruna. I said, "Tell Haruna we'll be at her place in an hour. Ask her to pack her stuff."

Hannah's voice cracked over the phone, sharp with hurt. "She has finished packing with Sister Yuko. Hmph." She paused, the silence thick with unspoken frustration.

"I'm not talking to you right now. You only see Mom—like Haruna and I don't even exist." Then, softer but firm, she added, "Haruna, we'll be there in an hour. Be ready."

The line went dead.

I pulled her into my arms before she could step away. "That's not true, Hannah. You know it isn't."

She buried her face against my shoulder, her grip tightening. "I do know. But..." Her breath hitched. "I'm jealous. Of Mom. Why does she always come first?"

I cupped the back of her head, thumb brushing her hair. "Because she's your mother. And I love her—the same way I love you. But your mom..." My voice roughened. "She is special to me. She was there when I had nothing. When no one else was."

Hannah's fingers curled into my shirt. "I know," she whispered, like admitting it pained her.

I pinched her nose lightly, teasing. "Alright, drama queen. Go help your mom pack before I tickle you into submission."

A reluctant laugh escaped her. She swiped at her eyes and shoved me half-heartedly before turning toward Julie's room. "Fine. But I'm blaming you if she overpacks again."

I watched them work—Julie folding clothes with methodical precision, Hannah tossing in last-minute snacks.

I sent the luggage to the storage system while Julie and Hannah changed into their outfits, getting ready to leave. I followed suit, slipping into a tailored suit before we headed straight to Yuko's apartment.

Hannah had already called Haruna, asking her to meet us downstairs, so by the time we arrived, both Haruna and Yuko were waiting outside. I parked the car and stepped out—only to find Yuko staring at me in stunned silence, her eyes fixed on my suit.

Before I could react, Haruna rushed forward, throwing her arms around me and planting a kiss on my cheek. "Jack, you're finally here!" she exclaimed.

Yuko snapped out of her daze with a sharp "Haruna!"—her voice laced with something unreadable. Avoiding my gaze entirely, she shoved her luggage toward me without a word, then climbed into the backseat beside Haruna and Hannah. I loaded the bags into the trunk and slid into the driver's seat.

From the front, Yuko turned to Julie, her voice hesitant. "Aunt Julie, I'm sorry—because of Haruna, I—"

Julie cut her off with a warm smile. "It's okay. Haruna's like my daughter. I'm not angry at her—or at you. You don't have to worry..."

The last of the tension dissolved into breathy laughter as I steered the car onto the private runway. Haruna, Hannah, and Yuko let out synchronized gasps when the sleek jet came into view—none of them had expected this.

Haruna's fingers pressed against the window like a child seeing candy for the first time, while Yuko's lips parted slightly, her throat working as she swallowed. I caught the way her eyes flicked to my hands on the wheel, then darted away.

We boarded quickly—the girls dispersing like excited birds while the crew loaded the luggage.

Yuko lingered near the back, her fingers tracing the buttery leather of a seat, her hips swaying just enough to make the fabric of her dress cling to the curve of her ass. I sat first, patting the space beside me. "Sister Yuko... is something bothering you?"

Her thoughts spilled into my mind, unguarded: [Fuck. Why does his voice do this to me? My skin's too hot. That suit—how does he even move in it? It's like it's painted on. And that smell. No, no, no—stop. He's Haruna's. He's family. But why does my heart beat like that when he looks at me like that?]

She wet her lips. "No. It's nothing. Just... haven't found a place to live yet."

I let my gaze drag over her—slow, deliberate—before leaning in. My voice dropped to a rough murmur. "I'm pissed at you, you know." Her breath hitched. "Haruna's my girlfriend. And you're my sister-in-law. It's the least I can do." I reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her shoulder. My fingers grazed the bare skin of her collarbone, and her pulse jumped beneath my touch.

Yuko's cheeks flushed. "I—I can't just—"

Haruna, ever the little devil, chose that moment to pounce. "Yeah, sister! I want to live with my boyfriend." She didn't just sit on my lap—she dropped, her ass landing right against the growing heat between my thighs. The impact made me bite back a groan. Her skirt rode up, the lace edge of her panties peeking out as she wiggled to get comfortable.

[Fuck.]

I kept my face neutral, but my cock twitched, thickening against the inside of her thigh. Haruna's eyes sparkled with mischief—she knew. The little brat shifted again, a tiny roll of her hips, and I had to clench my jaw to keep from reacting. No one else could see from their angles—Julie was chatting with Hannah up front, oblivious—but Yuko's gaze snapped to where Haruna's ass pressed against me.

"Haruna!" Yuko hissed, her voice tight. "Aunt Julie is right there! Have some decency! This is not your home."

Haruna just grinned, leaning back against my chest. Her fingers toyed with the buttons of my shirt. " sister~ does that mean I could sit with Jack at home?" She tilted her head, batting her lashes. "Don't go back on your words."

Yuko's face burned. "W-When did I—? That's not—!"

Haruna's thoughts were a smug purr: [Heh. Look at her, all flustered. She's so easy to wind up. And Jack's hard under me. Mmm... should I grind a little? Just to see what he does?]

She didn't—this time. But she did let her hand drift lower, her pinky brushing the bulge straining against my slacks. My cock jerked, and I had to school my breathing. Yuko's eyes were glued to the movement, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.

[No. No, it can't be. But Haruna's right there, and he's not stopping her, and—why is she moving her hips like that? Is she teasing him? Why is my own sister—? I thought she was innocent. God, is she watching those videos? Has she always been like this, and I never noticed?]

Yuko's thoughts spiraled, her stomach twisting as Haruna gave another subtle roll of her hips against Jack's lap. The way his breath hitched—just for a second—wasn't lost on her. Neither was the way his fingers flexed against Haruna's thigh, like he was fighting the urge to grip her harder.

I caught Haruna's wrist before she could pull away, my thumb pressing slow, deliberate circles over her pulse point. The skin there was fever-hot. "Relax," I murmured, my voice low enough that only she could hear. "We've got a long flight ahead."

Yuko's breath came faster, shallow little gasps that made her chest rise and fall in a way that was distracting as hell.

Haruna suddenly stood, stretching her arms above her head with a catlike arch of her back. "I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick~" she announced, her voice sickly sweet.

As she moved behind Yuko, her fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties—and in one fluid motion, she pulled them out, letting the lace dangle from her fingertips.

Julie and Hannah also noticed it. The damp spot on the crotch was unmistakable, the fabric clinging to the shape of her lips. My cock throbbed, pressing painfully against my zipper.

Haruna's eyes locked onto mine, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. Then she curled her finger, beckoning me toward the bathroom.

I stood abruptly, my voice steady despite the fire burning under my skin. "I'm going to talk to the pilot." The lie rolled off my tongue smoothly, but Yuko's sharp inhale told me she didn't buy it for a second. Her eyes flicked to the bathroom door, then back to me, her fingers twisting in her lap.

The second I reached the bathroom, Haruna was on me.

She yanked me in by my shirt, slamming the door shut behind us with her foot. Before I could react, she pressed her panties—still warm, still damp—against my face.

The scent of her arousal hit me like a punch to the gut, musky and sweet, and my cock jerked violently against my slacks.

"Smell that," she whispered, her voice a poisoned honey. "That's what you do to me, Jack. Every. Fucking. Time." Her free hand slid down my chest, her nails scraping over the bulge straining against my zipper. "You've been hard since I sat on your lap, haven't you? Did you like how I wiggled for you?"

I groaned, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "You're playing a dangerous game, brat."

"Mmm, but you love my games." She dropped the panties onto the sink and sank to her knees in front of me, her fingers already working at my belt. "Besides, this guy liked it..." Her breath ghosted over the outline of my cock, making me twitch.

The second the bathroom door locked, Haruna was on her knees, her hands already fumbling with my belt. The tiny space reeked of her perfume and the musky scent of her arousal—thick, intoxicating. Her tits heaved against the fabric of her blouse, her nipples hard little points begging to be sucked.

"Look at you," I growled, tangling my fingers in her hair. "Already dripping for me, aren't you, slut?"

She whimpered, her fingers shaking as she freed my cock. It sprang out, thick and veiny, the head already glistening with pre-cum. "Mmm, so big," she moaned, wrapping her fingers around the base.

"I've been aching for this all day. Watching you in that suit, knowing what was hiding under it..." She licked her lips, her tongue darting out to tease the slit.

"Shut up and suck it," I snarled, shoving her mouth onto my cock.

Haruna didn't hesitate. Her lips stretched obscenely around my girth, her throat opening as she took me deep, her gagging sounds muffled by the wet slurping of her mouth.

"Mmph—! Fuck, you taste so good," she moaned around my shaft, her saliva dripping down my balls. "I love how you throb when I do this—" She hollowed her cheeks, her tongue swirling around the ridge of my head before pulling off with a lewd pop. "—like you own my mouth."

"I do," I growled, gripping her hair tighter. "Now take it like a good little cocksleeve."

She obeyed, bobbing her head faster, her moans vibrating around my cock. The sounds filled the bathroom—wet, sloppy, desperate—her fingers digging into my thighs as she took me to the back of her throat. "Nnngh—! Choking on you feels so good," she gasped, pulling off just long enough to spit on my cock before diving back down.

I could feel my orgasm building, but I wasn't done with her yet. With a sharp tug, I yanked her off me. "Stand up. Bend over. Now."

Haruna scrambled to her feet, turning around and bracing her hands against the sink. Her skirt was already hiked up, her soaked panties discarded on the floor. Her ass was perfection—round, jiggling slightly as she spread her legs wider, her pussy glistening, the lips swollen and begging for it.

"Fuck me, Jack," she pleaded, arching her back. "Please, I need it. My pussy's throbbing—" She reached back, spreading herself open with two fingers, showing me how wet she was. "Look how empty I am. Fill me up."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I slammed into her in one brutal thrust, her tight, dripping heat swallowing me whole. "OHHH—! FUCK!" she screamed, her fingers clawing at the sink. "You're so big—! It hurts so good!"

"You can take it," I growled, gripping her hips as I pounded into her. The sink rattled violently against the wall, the mirror fogging up from our heat. Every thrust made her tits bounce against the cold metal, her nipples rubbing against the surface. "You love being fucked like a dirty slut in a plane bathroom, don't you?"

"YES!" she sobbed, her voice high and desperate. "Fuck, I love it! I need it! Harder, Jack! Ruin me!"

I obliged, my hips snapping against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the cramped space. Her pussy was soaking, her juices coating my cock, dripping down her thighs. "Feel that?" I grunted, reaching around to circle her clit. "Feel how wet you are for me? How easy it is to make you a mess?"

"YESSS—!" she wailed, her body trembling. "I'm yours, Jack! Your fucking slut! Oh god—!"

"That's right," I snarled, my fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. "And you're gonna cum on my cock like the good little whore you are, aren't you?"

"I'm gonna—! I'M GONNA CUM!"* she screamed, her pussy clenching around me. "Fuck, I'm cumming—!"

"Do it," I commanded, my own release coiling tight. "Cum for me, Haruna. Now."

Her back arched, a broken cry tearing from her throat as her orgasm crushed her. "JACK—! FUCK! I'M CUMMING!" Her pussy pulsed around me, her walls milking my cock as she came, her juices gushing around my shaft.

With a final, deep thrust, I buried myself to the hilt and unleashed, my cum flooding her in thick, scorching spurts. "Fuck—! Take it all," I groaned, my hips stuttering as I emptied myself inside her, filling her up until it leaked out around my cock, dripping down her thighs.

Haruna sagged against the sink, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her tits heaving. "Fuck..." she panted, her voice hoarse. "I can feel you inside me..."

I pulled out slowly, watching as my cum dripped out of her, thick and white, coating her thighs. "Good girl," I murmured, giving her ass a sharp slap. "Now clean yourself up."

She let out a breathy giggle, her fingers trailing through the mess between her legs. "Mmm, but I like feeling you leak out of me," she purred, bringing her fingers to her lips. "Tastes so good..."

Haruna's fingers trembled as she pulled her soaked panties back up, the lace clinging to her swollen, cum-drenched pussy. A fresh droplet of my release tried to escape, but she pressed the fabric against herself, trapping the warmth inside. Her breath hitched as she adjusted them, the friction making her whimper.

"I'm going first," I murmured, my voice a low, rough growl. "Otherwise, sister Yuko might start asking too many questions," I smirked, watching as she nodded, her cheeks still flushed, her lips bruised from sucking me off. "You come out after. And act innocent."

Haruna pouted, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. "But what if she asks me what we were doing?" she whispered, her fingers tracing the damp fabric between her legs. "Should I tell her the truth? That my boyfriend just ruin my pussy in the airplane bathroom?"

I chuckled darkly, adjusting my pants—my cock still half-hard, the fabric straining. "You dare, and I'll make sure you can't sit down for the rest of the flight."

She bit her lip, her grin widening. "Promise?"

I opened the door and stepped out, the cool air of the cabin hitting me. Julie and Hannah's eyes locked onto me instantly, their smirks knowing. Julie's gaze flicked down to my crotch, lingering for a second before meeting my eyes, her lips curling in amusement. Hannah's tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip, her fingers tapping against her thigh like she was imagining being in that bathroom with us.

I sat back in my seat, my body still humming from the rough fuck, my cock half-hard and aching for more. The plane's engine droned in the background, but all I could focus on was the scent of sex still clinging to the air—and the way Julie and Hannah's eyes burned into me, their smirks knowing.

Then—

Yuko sniffed again, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "Hm..." She leaned forward, her brows furrowing. "What is this... weird smell? It's like... fish, but... sweeter? Almost like..." She trailed off, her eyes darting around the cabin before landing on me.

My blood ran cold.

Haruna's cum-stained panties were still clinging to her, the fabric soaked with my release, the scent of sex thick in the air. And Yuko—innocent, oblivious Yuko—had no idea what she was actually smelling.

I smirked, crossing my arms behind my head. "Well, I just had some fish snacks with the pilot earlier," I said, my voice deliberately casual. "You know how those things reek."

Hannah giggled, her hand flying to her mouth as she tried—and failed—to stifle her laughter. "Yeah, those tiny fish crackers," she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "They stink."

Yuko's eyes flicked to me, her expression skeptical. "Fish snacks? With the pilot?"

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat, my voice dripping with false innocence. "Yeah. He had some dried squid too. Said it was a good luck charm or something." I smirked. "Wanted to try some. Guess it lingers."

Yuko's gaze narrowed. "You ate squid in the cockpit? While we were waiting?"

"Mmm, not just ate," Julie purred, her voice slick with innuendo. "I bet he savored it."

Hannah snorted, her hand flying to her mouth as she lost it, her shoulders shaking.

Yuko's face flushed crimson. "That's... weird."

Then—

The bathroom door creaked open.

Haruna stepped out, her legs clenched together, her walk unstable—like she could still feel me inside her. Julie and Hannah immediately shot her a knowing glance, their eyes flicking down to her thighs—where the damp spot on her skirt was unmistakable.

Haruna sat down next to Yuko, her legs pressing together before—deliberately—she let them part just enough.

Julie's and Hannah's eyes locked onto the reveal—

Haruna's cum-stained panties were visible, the lace dark with my release, a fresh drip of cum oozing out from between her lips, glistening in the cabin lights.

Yuko sat rigid in her seat, her fingers clutching the armrest, completely unaware of the filth seeping from her sister beside her. The scent of sex still clung to the air—thick, musky, unmistakable—but she mistook it for something else, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

Julie's smirk was predatory, her fingers tracing slow circles around the rim of her wineglass. "Mmm, someone's been busy," she murmured, her voice just loud enough for me and Hannah to hear. Hannah bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, her thighs pressed tight together, her breath coming in short, needy gasps.

Haruna shifted again, her legs spreading just a little—

—and then—

Yuko turned toward her.

Haruna's legs slammed shut—

—but not before a thick bead of my cum rolled down her inner thigh, glistening under the cabin lights.

Fuck.

I had to act—fast.

Leaning forward, I cleared my throat, my voice smooth as silk. "Sister Yuko. Aunt Julie." My eyes locked onto theirs, my tone deliberately casual. "You both must be starving. I'll have the staff bring you something... special."

Julie's smirk deepened, her gaze flicking to Haruna's thighs—where the wet spot was still visible, the fabric clinging to her skin. "Oh, I bet it's special," she purred, her voice dripping with innuendo.

Hannah choked on a laugh, her hand flying to her mouth. "Yeah, something filling," she added, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Yuko's brows furrowed. "Filling?"

"Mmm," Julie hummed, swirling her wine. "Something rich. Something that lingers."

Haruna bit her lip, her fingers trembling as she subtly wiped at the cum trickling down her thigh. "Mmm, I love rich things," she murmured, her voice sweet—too sweet.

The staff arrived with the food, and the conversation shifted—laughter, clinking silverware, the clatter of plates.

After dinner, I let myself drift off, the hum of the engine lulling me into a light sleep—

—only to wake up as the plane touched down.

SERA had already arranged the cars. The ride was silent—too silent. The kind of silence that screamed.

And then we arrived.

The third villa—the one no one knew about.

The one I'd bought along with the other 2 villas.

Haruna's breath hitched as she stepped out of the car, her eyes wide as she took in the sprawling estate. The pool glowed under the moonlight, the water rippling like an invitation. The windows were tinted, the walls soundproof—perfect for the kind of screams I had in mind.

"Jack..." Haruna breathed, her voice huskier than before. "This is..."

"Yours," I said, my voice a low growl. "All of yours."

Hannah let out a soft, needy whimper, her fingers clenching around my arm. "You bought this... for us?"

The smirk curling my lips was pure sadism as I let my gaze rake over them—Julie's eyes dark with predatory hunger, her tongue already wetting her lips like a bitch in heat; Hannah's thighs pressed together, her panties already soaked through; Haruna's cheeks flushed crimson, her fingers twitching like she was this close to shoving them inside herself right then and there.

The villa tour was over.

Now, the fucking began.

The second I stepped inside, the air detonated—thick with the stink of desperate pussy, the musky tang of unwashed need. Every woman I'd ever ruined was here, a living, breathing buffet of holes just waiting to be stretched, filled, and drowned in cum.

Jessica. Paige. Stella. Rose. Lisa. Isabella. Olivia. Carolina. Karen. Jennifer. Mary. Marina. Margaret. Sofia. Elizabeth.

And now, Julie, her eyes black with lust, her lips glistening like she'd already been sucking cock for hours.

"JACK!" Jessica screamed, launching herself at me like a fucking missile, her tits mashing against my chest as her tongue rammed down my throat. "We've been starving for you, you fucking monster—!"

Paige was next, her nails ripping my shirt open, buttons pinging off the walls. "Fuck, I need you inside me NOW," she whined, her fingers scrabbling at my belt like a junkie searching for a fix. "Please, please, I've been finger-fucking myself raw thinking about you—"

Julie sauntered forward, her hips swinging, her fingers trailing down her stomach before dipping into her soaked pussy. "Took you long enough," she purred, pulling her fingers out with a wet schlick and licking them clean. "I was starting to think you forgot about us."

"Never," I growled, my powers igniting like a fucking supernova.

With a thought, every stitch of fabric in the room exploded.

Bras snapped like gunshots. Panties tore mid-air. Skirts disintegrated into ash. Naked, glistening bodies surrounded me—tits bouncing, pussies dripping, assholes twitching in desperate anticipation.

"Holy FUCK—!" Stella moaned, her fingers plunging into her gushing cunt. "Look at him... he's already so hard—!"

"And thick," Julie added, her hand wrapping around my shaft, her thumb smearing the leaking pre-cum over my bulbous head. "Mmm, I missed this cock." She stroked me, slow, taunting. "Bet it's been aching for us, hasn't it?"

Isabella dropped to her knees, her lips parting, her tongue flicking out. "Please, Jack, I need it—"

"NO." My Telekinesis flared, lifting her into the air, her legs spreading wide, her dripping pussy on full display. "You'll take it when I say you can, you worthless slut."

Then I unleashed the beast.

Body Manipulation surged—my cock swelling, thickening, the veins pulsing like live wires, the head ballooning into a monstrous, weeping mushroom. The sloppy drip-drip of pre-cum hit the floor like a fucking waterfall.

"HOLY SHIT—!" Paige gasped, her eyes bugging out. "It's bigger than last time—!"

"And harder," I snarled, gripping her hair and shoving her onto my cock.

She gagged instantly, her throat struggling, saliva dripping down her chin, her eyes watering as I face-fucked her like a worthless meat sleeve. "That's it, choke on it," I growled, my hips snapping forward, my balls slapping her chin. "You love being my throat slut, don't you?"

"Mmmph—! YES!" she gurgled, tears streaming down her face as I fucked her mouth like it was nothing.

I yanked her off and slammed Olivia onto my cock next, her tight pussy stretching obscenely around me as I pounded into her.

"OH GOD—! I'M GONNA—!" she screamed, her juices gushing down my shaft, soaking my balls.

"Not yet," I commanded, my Hand of Arousal making her clit throb with forced pleasure. "You'll cum when I let you, you dripping whore."

"P-PLEASE, JACK—!" she sobbed, her pussy clenching around me, squirting in hot pulses.

I tossed her aside like garbage and grabbed Karen, bending her over the couch, her ass jiggling as I spat on her tight hole and slammed into her.

"FUCK—! IT'S SO BIG!" she wailed, her nails digging into the cushions, her back arching as I pounded her raw.

"Take it," I growled, my Cum Monster ability kicking in, my balls swelling with an unnatural load. "You're made to be my cum dumpster."

"YES! YES!" she screamed, her ass clenching around me as I fucked her brutally.

Julie sauntered over, her tits swaying, her fingers trailing down her glistening stomach. "Need some help, Jack?" she purred, her voice dripping with lust.

I grinned, my Telekinesis lifting her into the air, her legs spreading wide. "You know I do."

"Oh fuck—!" she moaned as I slammed her onto my cock, her pussy sucking me in. "Yes, just like that—!"

I fucked her hard, her tits bouncing, her nipples hard as diamonds. "You missed this cock, didn't you?" I snarled, my hand slapping her ass so hard it left a mark.

"SO FUCKING MUCH!" she screamed, her pussy squirting all over me. "I dreamed about it! I touched myself every night thinking about it—!"

I fucked them all—one after another, sometimes two at once, my Endurance God ability keeping me hard, relentless, unstoppable.

Paige rode me reverse cowgirl, her ass slapping against my thighs as she bounced, her pussy squirting all over my lap. "Oh god, I'm cumming—!"

Lisa took me in her ass, her screams muffled by Margaret's pussy in her face. "Fuck, it burns—! But I love it!"

Sofia and Elizabeth shared my cock, 69'ing while I face-fucked them both. "Mmm, taste him, Liz—!" Sofia moaned, her tongue swirling around my leaking tip.

Marina let me cum in her pussy, then licked it clean while Carolina watched, her fingers furiously rubbing her clit. "Fuck, that's hot—!"

The villa became a den of filth—screams echoing off the walls, squirt soaking the floors, cum dripping from every used hole.

Jessica rode my face, her juices flooding my mouth as I tongue-fucked her desperately. "Oh fuck, your tongue—! I'm gonna squirt—!"

"Do it," I growled, gripping her hips and shoving her down harder.

Her pussy convulsed, and a torrent of hot, sticky squirt exploded all over my face, drenching me. "OH GOD—!"

I lapped it up, growling, before flipping her onto her stomach and slamming my cock into her from behind.

"YOU'RE MINE," I snarled, my hips pistoning, my balls slapping her clit with every brutal thrust.

"YES! FUCK ME HARDER!" she screamed, her pussy gushing all over the sheets.

I pulled out and grabbed Jennifer, shoving her onto her knees before ramming my cock into her mouth.

"Choke on it," I ordered, gripping her throat as I fucked her face.

Her eyes watered, saliva dripping down her chin, but she took it, gagging like the good little slut she was.

"That's it, take it all," I growled, feeling my orgasm building.

I yanked her off and slammed into Mary next, her tight pussy milking my cock as I pounded her into the mattress.

"I'M CUMMING—!" she screamed, her juices flooding out of her, soaking the bed.

"Not yet," I barked, my Hand of Arousal forcing her clit to throb without release.

"PLEASE—! I CAN'T TAKE IT—!" she sobbed, her body shaking.

I laughed, dark and cruel, before finally letting her cum, her pussy squirting in violent pulses all over my cock.

By the time night fell, the house reeked of sex.

I collapsed onto the couch, my cock still hard, my body covered in cum, pussy juice, and squirt.

The women crawled toward me, their lips and tongues cleaning me, their hands stroking, their mouths kissing every inch of me.

"We're not done, are we, Jack?" Jessica purred, her fingers wrapping around my shaft.

"Never," I growled, my Body Manipulation flaring again, my cock twitching back to full, venomous hardness.

"Good," Julie smirked, straddling me, her pussy already dripping. "Because I need more."

And then—

The real fucking began. I fucked them all night.. until they were all exhausted and tired.

-x-X-x-

I woke up before everyone else—stillness filled the house. After a quick shower, I headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the family. By the time the food was ready, they began trickling out of their rooms, freshly showered and half-awake.

We ate together, and as the meal unfolded, so did their stories. Isabella's life seemed effortless, but beneath the surface, Victor had been waging a silent war—kidnapping and killing her men.

Worse still, Victor had pieced together the truth about Tony's death—and the horrifying realization that Isabella had not only avenged it but had also stripped him of his empire. Now, he wasn't just plotting revenge; he was mobilizing for war.

Marina's voice cut through my thoughts, gentle but insistent. "You promised." She wanted to return to Mexico to see her grandmother, and I couldn't refuse her—not again.

Meanwhile, Stella and Margaret delivered their report on the companies: some divisions thrived, others teetered on the edge of collapse. But none of that mattered as much as the storm brewing between Victor and Isabella.

Only one problem demanded my immediate focus: Victor—and Emily.

I didn't waste another second. With a command to SERA, I set the hunt in motion.

After a quick goodbye, I made my first move: Emily. She was at a shopping center, unaware of the net tightening around her. The idea of confronting her there amused me—public, unpredictable, personal. Before leaving, I swapped my usual attire for something more fitting: a tailored black British suit

, sharp as a blade.

The Rolls-Royce purred to a stop in the shopping center's underground parking, the engine's deep throb fading into silence as I killed the ignition. The air smelled of polished concrete and expensive perfume—hers, maybe, lingering from the last time she'd been here.

I stepped out, the soles of my handmade Oxfords clicking against the pavement, my black British suit tailored so precisely it felt like a second skin.

The fabric hugged my shoulders, the crisis-cut waistcoat emphasizing the lethal grace of my movements. I wasn't just dressed to impress. I was dressed to dominate.

The shopping center hummed with the dull roar of distant conversations, the clatter of heels on marble, the occasional chime of a boutique's door. But the café was different—a pocket of stillness, a place where the world slowed just enough to let secrets breathe. And there she was.

Emily.

Seated in the far corner, half-hidden by a potted fern, she was a study in controlled elegance. Her dress—a deep emerald wrap gown—clung to her like a lover's promise, the silk charmeuse shimmering under the café's soft lighting.

The neckline plunged just enough to tease, the delicate gold chain of a necklace resting between her collarbones before disappearing into the valley of her breasts. The fabric hugged her waist, flaring just slightly over her hips, the high slit on her left thigh flashing a glimpse of toned skin every time she crossed her legs.

She sipped her coffee, her full, painted lips pressing against the rim, leaving the faintest smear of crimson lipstick behind. Her fingers—long, manicured, the nails tipped in black lacquer—traced idle patterns on the tabletop. She was bored. Or pretending to be. But the way her gaze flicked toward the entrance every few seconds betrayed her.

And then there were them—the four shadows in black suits, scattered like chess pieces. Two by the entrance, one near the pastry display, the last leaning against the wall beside the restrooms, his jacket just bulging enough to hint at the weapon beneath.

I ordered my hazelnut coffee—thick, sweet, with just a hint of bitterness—and chose a table three paces from hers, close enough to catch the faint floral musk of her perfume, the subtle hitch in her breath when she thought no one was looking.

The café was nearly empty, just a few scattered patrons—an elderly couple sharing a slice of cake, a student typing furiously on a laptop, a mother soothing a fussy toddler. Their presence was background noise, white static against the electric charge crackling between Emily and me.

I took a slow sip, letting the warmth pool on my tongue, my eyes locked on her through lowered lashes. She shifted in her seat, her thighs pressing together just slightly, as if she could squeeze out the tension building inside her.

I activated my Hand of Arousal to be ready.

Her fingers twitched against her coffee cup. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her parted lips. Her nipples—already tight beneath the silk—hardened further, pressing against the fabric in two perfect, aching points.

I set my cup down. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the tile.

Time to move.

I rose in the same instant, timing my steps so our bodies collided just as she turned. My coffee exploded across her chest, the dark liquid soaking through the emerald silk, the heat of it searing against her skin—not enough to burn, but enough to make her hiss, her back arching as the wet fabric clung obscenely to her breasts.

"Aaaah—!"

Her hands flew up, fingers splaying over the damp, transparent silk, her nipples stiff and visible beneath my stare.

The café's ambient noise faded into nothing—just her ragged breathing, the drip-drip of coffee from the hem of her dress, the low growl of the bodyguards shifting toward us.

I didn't hesitate.

My hand slammed against her waist, yanking her against me, my other palm crushing her breast through the soaked fabric. The silk was slick, her skin burning beneath it, her nipple rolling between my fingers like a pebble of pure sin.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, my voice a velvet blade against her ear. "Let me help you clean that up."

She whimpered—"Aahh—nngh—"—her head tipping back as my thumb circled, then pinched, the wet silk abrading her sensitive peak. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her hips jerking involuntarily, pressing against my thigh.

"You—! Don't you have—ahh!—any fucking eyes—?"

Her words were broken, her voice thick with something darker than anger. She tried to shove me back, but her hands trembled, her strength undermined by the waves of pleasure I was forcing through her body.

I squeezed harder, my fingers digging into the soft, heavy weight of her breast, feeling the heat of her, the pulse of her heartbeat against my palm. The silk stuck to her skin, the dark coffee stains mapping the shape of her, the tight bud of her nipple, the swell of her cleavage.

"Hmmm—" A soft, needy sound tore from her throat, her lips parting, her tongue darting out to wet them. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed, her thighs pressing together as if she could stifle the ache building between them.

"You bastard—" she breathed, but there was no real venom in it. Just desperation. Just hunger.

Then her gaze locked onto mine.

And froze.

Her dark, kohl-lined eyes widened, her plump lower lip trembling as recognition slammed into her. For a heartbeat, she just stared, her chest heaving, her fingers still clenched in the ruined fabric of her dress.

Then, her hand dropped.

A subtle flick of her wrist, her fingers curling in a gesture so small it was almost imperceptible.

The bodyguards stopped dead.

The ruined emerald silk clung to her like a second skin, the dark coffee stains mapping the swell of her breasts, the tight peaks of her nipples pressing against the damp fabric. Her kohl-lined eyes—wide, dark, glittering with something between shock and hunger—locked onto mine as her plump lower lip trembled.

"Oh my God—" Her voice was breathy, unsteady, her fingers still clutching the soaked dress to her chest. "You—you complete—!"

I didn't let go of her waist, my thumb brushing the exposed slope of her breast, just lightly, just enough to make her breath catch.

I probed her mind with Telepathy, slipping past her defenses like a thief in the night.

[Hm... Who is this handsome guy?]

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, my voice low, sincere, even as my other hand slid up her arm, my fingers tracing the delicate bone of her wrist. "I didn't see you—my mind was elsewhere. Let me make it up to you."

Her thoughts unraveled in my mind, raw and unfiltered:

[Oh, fuck. His voice is like whiskey and sin—smooth, but it burns going down. And his hands—God, his hands—they're everywhere, but not enough. Not nearly enough.]

[I should be furious. I should slap him. But...]

Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then lower, to where my fingers still rested against the damp silk of her dress.

[...But I don't want to.]

My lips twitched. So. She didn't know me.

Guess I'm not that famous yet.

She swallowed, her throat working, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"You—you ruined my dress," she said, but there was no real anger in it. Just heat. Just need.

"I am really sorry. Let me buy you a new one... as an apology," I promised, my thumb circling the stained fabric, teasing the edge of her nipple. "The finest one. Whatever you want."

[Oh, whatever I want?]

Her thoughts turned dark, hungry:

[I want his mouth on me. I want his hands ripping this dress off me. I want him to fuck me against the nearest wall and make me scream his name—]

[Should I keep him as my pet...?]

The idea sent a shiver down her spine, her nipples tightening beneath the soaked silk of her dress. She imagined it—you, on your knees, your mouth between her thighs, your hands gripping her hips while she pulled your hair and moaned your name—

[Victor's been fucking around a lot lately...]

Her thoughts soured, her fingers clenching around her coffee cup. The porcelain creaked under the pressure.

[Haven't seen him in weeks. Too busy with his whores and his wars. Too busy lying to me.]

[If he can play, so can I.]

A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips.

[One night. Just once. A secret. A first and last time one-night stand.]

Her mind flashed with images—your hands on her bare skin, your mouth on her neck, your cock filling her so deep she'd forget her own name—

[Just like some of my friends do...]

She scoffed internally, her fingers tracing the gold chain at her throat.

[They all swear it's liberating. No strings. No regrets. Just pleasure.]

[Just one night of pure, selfish fucking.]

Her gaze flicked back to mine, bold now, challenging.

[And then I'll discard him. Like a used toy.]

[No one will ever know.]

A thrill ran through her, her breath hitching as she imagined it—the hotel room, the silk sheets, the way your body would feel pressed against hers—

[He'll worship me. And then I'll walk away.]

[And Victor will never find out.]

Her lips parted, her voice a purr:

"You know..." She leaned in, her perfume—jasmine and something darker—wrapping around me. "I don't even know your name."

I grinned, my fingers still resting on her waist, my thumb brushing the damp silk of her dress.

"Names are overrated," I murmured, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. "But if you insist... You can call me Jack."

Her breath caught.

[Oh, fuck.]

[He's not just some pretty face.]

[He's dangerous.]

[And I like it.]

She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh, her thoughts a whirlwind of lust and defiance:

[One night. One fucking night. And then I erase him from my memory.]

[But God, I'm going to ride him until he begs like a sweet little boy.]

She straightened, her fingers trailing down my chest before pulling away—just slightly, just enough to pretend she was in control.

Emily's crimson lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile, her kohl-lined eyes glinting with mischief and heat.

"Hello, Jack..." she purred, her voice a velvet blade, "My name is Emily Rain..."

But then she leaned in, her hot breath hitting my ear, her lips brushing the shell of it just long enough to make my cock twitch. Her voice dropped to a whisper, fake-shy, fake-innocent—

"That..." Her finger traced the coffee-stained silk over her left breast, her nipple hard and visible beneath the damp fabric. "I may also need to buy some... undergarmets..." Her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip, her eyes flicking up to mine. "Since your coffee has soaked mine..."

I followed her gaze— Her finger was pressed against the dark, transparent patch where the coffee had seeped through, the silk clinging to the swell of her breast, the tight peak of her nipple begging for my teeth.

And then I noticed— The bodyguards weren't watching. They weren't even looking.

The one by the entrance was staring at his shoes. The big brute near the pastry display had turned his back completely. The third was pretending to adjust his cufflinks, his jaw clenched like he was counting to ten. The last—the most dangerous—was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling like he was studying the architecture.

Emily Rain wasn't just Victor's wife. She wasn't just his prisoner. She was something else entirely.

And she knew I'd just figured it out.

I didn't hesitate.

My hand shot out, grabbed her breast—hard—my fingers sinking into the soft, heavy weight of it, my thumb rolling over her nipple through the damp silk.

"Oh..." I murmured, my voice dripping with fake remorse, my eyes locked on hers as I squeezed, feeling the heat of her, the pulse of her heartbeat against my palm. "I am so sorry, Emily..."

She gasped, her back arching, her lips parting as her nipple hardened further under my touch.

"I'll buy them for you," I growled, my fingers kneading her breast, my other hand sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against me. "The finest one."

My lips brushed her ear, my breath hot. My thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple, twisting just enough to make her whimper.

Emily's dark eyes flared, her cheeks flushing as she swallowed hard, her fingers digging into my jacket. For a heartbeat, I thought she might slap me.

Then— She grinned.

A slow, dangerous curve of her crimson lips, her tongue darting out to wet them.

"Mmm..." She purred, her hand sliding down to grab mine, her fingers lacing with mine possessively. "Then let's go shopping, Jack... Since you're so generous."

The boutique's air was thick with the scent of bergamot and sin, the gold-trimmed mirrors reflecting Emily's smirk like a knife's edge.

She sauntered between the racks, her hips swaying with the deliberate rhythm of a woman who knew exactly how much power she held in the arch of her back, the drag of her fingers over delicate fabrics.

"So, Jack..." She plucked a black lace bra from the rack, the cups so sheer they were almost invisible, the embroidered floral patterns designed to frame rather than cover. The underwire was thin as a whisper, the straps no wider than dental floss.

"What do you think?" She held it up against her chest, the dark lace contrasting obscenely with the pale silk of her ruined dress. "Will my husband like it?"

Before I could answer, she dropped it and moved on, her fingers trailing over a crimson satin corset, the boning stiff, the laces designed to cinch her waist into something obscene

"Or maybe he'll prefer something with... more structure. Tell me your opinion, you both are men, so help me choose?" Her eyes flicked to mine, challenging.

I didn't speak. I just watched as she glided toward the panties, where rows of silk and sin hung like trophies. Her fingers danced over a fishnet thong, the diamond-patterned mesh so delicate it would tear with a single hard pull.

"Or perhaps..." She lifted a crotchless lace number, the black fabric barely there, the open gusset a blatant invitation. "...you like easy access?"

Her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip, as she pressed the scandalous scrap of lace against her hip, posing like a fucking goddess.

She took a bunch of panties and bras and went to the changing room, asking me to come with her. Then she kept putting those panties and bra on top of her clothes asking me about opinion.

"Which would look better...?" she asked, pressing her phone into my hands with a smirk. "Take a photo of me holding these, and I'll send it to my husband."

Emily's mind raced: [I've heard pretty boys like him have a thing for MILFs... He'll be seething with jealousy—and when the time comes, he'll fuck me like he means it. Hee hee.]

I bit back a laugh, imagining a far more direct way to stoke his envy—like sending her husband photos of my cock buried inside his wife. Now that would get his attention.

I stepped even closer, my hand sliding up to cup her breast, my thumb rolling over her nipple through the damp silk. "Oh, Emily..." I murmured, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, my breath hot.

"If you really want his opinion..." My voice was a low rasp, fingers brushing hers as I took the phone. The screen lit up under my thumb, the camera lens flaring to life like a challenge. "...why not call him and ask?" I tilted the device just enough to catch the way her thighs pressed together, the lace in her grip trembling.

Emily's breath hitched—not just a gasp, but a sound, wet and needy, like she'd been caught mid-moan. The air between us thickened with the scent of her: bergamot and salt, the musk of arousal clinging to the damp fabric of her dress where it clung to her nipples, stiff as accusations. Her free hand flew to her collarbone, as if she could press back the flush crawling up her throat.

"Th-that's—" Her voice cracked. The lace snapped taut between her fingers, the delicate fabric no match for the way her body betrayed her. A bead of sweat slid between her breasts, disappearing into the valley like a secret. "He'll—"

The phone was a weight in my palm, a threat and a promise. "What is his phone number?"

Emily's lips parted. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of what-ifs and oh gods— [Is that jealousy darkening his voice when he answers, or is it excitement? Does he even care, or am I just another game to him? What if he hears how wet I am?]

She swallowed, her throat working. "It's..." A flicker of defiance lit her eyes, but her body was already surrendering, arching into the space between us like a cat seeking heat. "Saved as 'Dear.'"

I didn't move. Didn't blink. Just let the silence stretch, let her imagine what came next—the dial tone, the way his voice might roughen when he realized it wasn't just her on the line.

The way his cock would twitch, trapped in his work slacks, when he heard her real moans. Not the performative ones she gave him, but the raw, desperate sounds she saved for men who knew how to ruin her.

I angled the phone, capturing her—Emily Rain, cheeks flushed, lips parted, holding up the crotchless panties like a fucking dare. The gold lights of the boutique glinted off the black lace, making it look like it was already wrapped around her thighs.

"Smile, Emily," I growled, my free hand sliding up to cup her breast, my thumb rolling over her nipple through the damp silk. "I am calling your husband."

Emily's eyes darkened, her thoughts a whirlwind of lust and vengeance:

[Oh, fuck. He's serious.]

[He's actually going to do it.]

[Victor's going to lose his mind if he knows.]

She bit her lip, her body arching into my touch, her voice a whisper:

"You're playing with fire..."

I chuckled, my fingers tightening on her breast, my thumb and forefinger pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her gasp.

"Baby," I murmured, my lips grazing her neck, my teeth nipping the tender skin. "I like the burn."

I lowered the phone, angling the shot just right—her chest heaving, nipples taut under my palm, the crotchless panties twisted in her fingers like a dare. The call connected.

Emily snatched the phone, flipping to selfie mode while I loomed behind the rear lens, a shadow with a front-row seat to her unraveling. Now I was standing between Emily and the mirror, with Emily talking to her husband with a selfie camera.

Emily's lips split into a slow, wet smile, her tongue tracing the curve of her upper lip before she purred into the phone: "Hi, Honey..." A beat. Her gaze flicked to mine—dark, knowing—before dragging back to the screen.

"God, I miss you, darling..." The crotchless panties molded to her mound as she pressed them there, fingers splaying the lace over the flush of her skin. "Help me pick something new...?" Emily switched the camera to rear and turned the phone toward the hangers on the door of the changing which were holding all her panties and bras.

Victor's voice crackled through, distracted: "Hey, Emily—I'm in the middle of—" Then he saw. The panties. Her. His breath hitched into silence.

Emily let the lace slither from her fingertips like a discarded secret, her eyes already locked onto the rack with predatory focus.

The fishnet thong gleamed under the store lights, the diamond mesh wicked and unyielding, designed to cut and cling in all the right places. She plucked it free, holding it up between us like a challenge.

"This one...?" Her voice was sugar-coated arsenic, slow and syrupy, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip. She tilted her head, the picture of false innocence, but her thighs pressed together just a little too tightly, her breath already shallow.

A pause. A slow, deliberate blink, her lashes sweeping down like a curtain before the main act.

"Or..."

Her fingers traced the open-crotch set, dragging a single nail along the empty slit of the panties.

The fabric whispered under her touch, the sound obscene in the quiet of the lingerie section. "...the one that saves you the trouble?" She smirked, but it wavered—because she knew. I knew. And in three seconds, Victor was going to know something was wrong.

The phone buzzed again, Victor's voice spilling through, already thick with suspicion. "Em? You still there?"

She jolted, nearly dropping the panties, but I caught her wrist, my grip firm. "Answer him," I mouthed, moving my lips without making a noise, my thumb circling the inside of her wrist, right over her pulse.

"Y-yeah, I'm here," she stammered, but her voice was too high, too bright, the kind of voice that screams guilty. "Just... looking at options."

"Options?" Victor's laugh was tight. "Since when do you need options? You usually just—"

"You just buy the first thing you see and hate it later?" Victor said, and my lips brushed her ear. Emily's nails dug into her palm, her free hand clenching the fishnet like a lifeline.

"I... I just want something... special," she lied, her voice wobbling.

"Special," Victor repeated, and I could hear the shift in his tone—the realization that something was off. "What's that noise? Are you in a store?"

Emily's eyes flicked to me, panicked. I grinned, slow and dangerous, then smacked her ass—hard.

CRACK.

The sound exploded through the phone line, sharp and unmistakable.

"Ah!" Emily hissed, her body jerking forward, her hand flying to her mouth like she could stuff the sound back in. The phone trembled in her grip, Victor's voice spiking:

"Emily?! What the hell was that?!"

"Drop something," I mouthed, my hand already sliding up the back of her thigh, under her dress, my fingers brushing the damp heat of her panties.

"I—I knocked over a... a display," she lied, her voice strained. "Just... clumsy."

"Clumsy," Victor echoed, disbelief thick in his voice. "You don't do clumsy, Em. What the fuck—"

I smacked her again—lower this time, right where her thigh met her ass, the sting making her gasp.

"Say something normal," I growled, my fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, yanking them aside. "Now."

"The-the lighting in here is weird," she blurted, her hips itching to rock back against my touch. "Makes everything look... different."

"Different how?" Victor's voice was steel now, the first real crack of anger.

I didn't wait. My fingers slid between her folds, two at once, no warning.

Emily's knees buckled, a whimper tearing from her throat—

"I—I mean—!" She choked, her free hand slapping over her mouth, her eyes wide and wild. The phone slipped in her grip, the angle shifting—just enough that if Victor was paying attention, he'd see nothing but the ceiling.

But he wasn't paying attention. Because I curled my fingers inside her, deep, and Emily moaned—loud, desperate, the sound raw and unfiltered—

"EMILY?!" Victor roared, his voice cracking like a whip.

She froze, her body locked around my fingers, her breath coming in ragged bursts. "I... I'm fine!" she squeaked, but it was too late—he knew. He knew something was wrong, even if he didn't understand yet.

I didn't stop. My thumb found her clit, circling, pressing, while my fingers fucked her slow and deep, her juices slick on my skin.

"You're lying," Victor snarled. "What the fuck is going on?!"

Emily's nails bit into her palm, drawing blood. "N-nothing!" she gasped, her hips betraying her, rocking into my touch. "I just—ah!—tripped—"

I smacked her again—harder, the sound echoing—

CRACK.

"GODDAMN IT, EMILY You are lying—!" Victor roared.

"I swore!" she cried, her voice breaking. "It's—it's nothing—"

"Tell him," I growled, my lips brushing her ear. "Tell him you're a good girl who never lies."

Her whole body shuddered, her pussy clenching around my fingers. "I.... I-I'm a good girl," she whimpered, but it sounded like a confession.

Victor didn't buy it. His voice was low, lethal. "You're lying. And when I get home, you're gonna tell me the truth."

I chuckled, my fingers picking up speed, her moans getting louder, messier—

I mouthed, my teeth grazing her neck.

Emily's eyes rolled back, her body tensing—

"Or I'll—" Victor started, but she cut him off with a broken sob, her orgasm crashing over her, her pussy pulsing around my fingers, her legs shaking—

"Aaaaaaaah hmmm..," she gasp, the words torn from her, desperate, true, ruined.

The phone clattered to the floor. Victor's voice still spilling from the speaker— "Emily?! EMILY—!"

But she was past hearing him. Because I was already unzipping my pants. And the next sound he heard? Was the wet, filthy noise of me sliding inside his wife.

My fingers hovered over the damp lace of her panties, the fabric clinging like a confession.

"Still sure you don't want the open-crotch ones, baby?" My voice was a blade wrapped in silk, dragging along her spine. "They'd save us both so much time." A pause. "And you're already so wet for me."

Emily's breath fractured. Her nipples strained against the flimsy dress, two desperate points of surrender. "I... I don't—" But her eyes were a storm of hunger, her thighs pressing together as if she could trap the ache.

"Liar." My palm cracked against her ass—CRACK—the sound sharp as a gunshot.

She jolted, spine arching, a gasp torn from her throat. "Ah—!" The phone buzzed against the counter. Victor's face glared from the screen, jaw clenched, eyes already slicing through the lie before she spoke.

"Em? What's taking so long?" His voice was a noose, tightening. He knew. Somewhere in his gut, he felt the rot.

Emily's fingers whitened around the phone. "J-just picking something out—"

"You sound strange." A beat. Then the whip-crack of his suspicion: "Where the fuck are you?"

I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Tell him you're in the bathroom." A pause. "Tell him you miss him." My hand slid up her thigh, fingers hooking into the soaked crotch of her panties. "Tell him how much you wish he were here... to watch."

Her pulse hammered under my touch. "I'm in the bathroom, baby. Just... missing you."

Victor's face darkened. "Bullshit. I hear something."

I snatched the phone. The rear camera drank in the truth: Emily's flushed skin, the fishnets tangled in her grip, the dark, spreading stain between her thighs where my fingers had just been.

I adjusted the angle—just enough. The camera caught me: the monstrous outline of my cock, thick veins pulsing, the tip already weeping. Emily's gaze locked onto it. Her mouth fell open, a silent oh shaping her lips.

Victor's voice shattered: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! EMILY—!"

"Oh, this?" I chuckled, my free hand sliding up her inner thigh, thumb pressing against her swollen clit. "This is what your wife really wants, Victor. Not your careful little fucks. Not your permission." I circled her clit, slow, deliberate. "She wants to be ruined."

The camera angle was perfect—cruel in its clarity.

Emily's knees dug into the tile, her back arched like a broken bow, her fishnets glistening with sweat. I fisted her hair, yanking her head back just enough to let the phone drink in the obscene stretch of her lips around my throbbing cock. Her mascara ran in black rivers, her breath coming in wet, desperate pants through her stuffed mouth.

"Mmmph—" She tried to speak, but all that came out was a muffled, bubbling whine, her tongue flattened beneath my shaft.

"What was that, baby?" I taunted, tapping the thick head against her tongue, painting it with pre-cum. "Use your words." I pushed in another inch, her throat immediately clenching in protest.

"Nnngh—! P-Pwease—" Her voice broke, distorted around my girth, her fingers clawing at my thighs.

"I can't hear you," I mocked, rolling my hips forward, forcing her to take more. Her nose pressed against my skin, her breath coming in ragged, wet gasps. "Try again."

"Mmmph—! I—I c-cahn't—" Her words dissolved into a choked gag, her eyes watering, her saliva dripping down my shaft, pooling on my balls.

Victor's voice exploded through the speaker: "EMILY, WHAT THE FUCK—?! STOP!"

I adjusted the angle, making sure he saw everything—the bulge of my cock distorting her throat, the strings of spit connecting her lips to my skin, the way her tits swayed as she gagged.

"Mmm—! He's— he's w-watching—" She tried to warn me, but her words were garbage, garbled by the cock rammed down her throat.

"I know," I growled, grinding against her face, feeling her gag reflex lose. "And he hates it." I pulled back just enough to let her gasp for air, then slammed back in, hitting the back of her throat with a wet thud.

"Guh—! P-PWEASE, S-SIR—! I c-cahn't—" Her fingers flew to her clit, rubbing frantically, her hips bucking even as her mouth was stuffed. She said sir instead of my name she doesn't want to tell Victor my name.

"You can," I hissed, forcing her deeper, cutting off her air. "And you will." I felt her throat flutter, her body shaking as she fought for breath.

"Mmmph—! I'm s-sorry—! I d-didn't mean—" Her apology dissolved into a wet, choked sob, her tears mixing with the spit dripping down her chin.

Victor's voice was a blade: "EMILY, GET THE FUCK OFF HIM—! NOW!"

I laughed, thrusting deeper, making her gag. "She can't hear you, Victor." I twisted my fingers in her hair, forcing her eyes to the screen. "She's a little busy."

"Mmm—! N-No, I—I have to—" She tried to pull away, but I held her, shoving her back down, her nose pressing against my skin.

"You have to what?" I mocked, fucking her mouth like it was nothing. "Tell him, Emily. Tell him what you have to do."

"Mmmph—! I h-have to— to s-swallow—" Her voice cracked, her throat spasming around me.

"Louder," I ordered, slamming into her throat, cutting off her words.

"NGH—! I H-HAVE TO SWALLOW YOUR CUM—!" She screamed it, her voice breaking, her body convulsing as I held her there, her throat working around my cock.

Victor's scream was raw: "EMILY, NO—! DON'T YOU DARE—!"

But she couldn't stop.

She wasn't in control.

I was.

"That's a good girl," I groaned, feeling my orgasm build, my balls tightening. "Now take it."

I roared, my cock pulsing, the first thick jet of cum hitting the back of her throat. She gagged, her eyes flying open, but I held her, forcing her to swallow, my release painting her insides in hot, sticky ropes.

"Mmmph—! N-No—! I c-cahn't—" Her words were garbage, drowned by the cock pumping cum down her throat.

"You can," I snarled, grinding against her face, emptying myself into her. "And you will."

Victor's voice shattered into static: "EMILY... I'LL FIND YOU—! I'LL BURN HIM ALIVE—!"

But all she could do was swallow.

And moan.

And drip.

My cock ripped free from Emily's gagging throat with a wet, violent SCHLORP, her lips stretched obscenely around the mushroom head before it popped out with a filthy sound.

She hacked and wheezed, "NGHHH—! FUUUCK—! MY THROAT'S ON FIRE—!", her mascara running like black rivers down her whore-face, her voice raw from taking my entire length like the worthless cocksleeve she was.

Her tits heaved, her nipples diamond-hard, her fishnets clinging to her sweat-slicked skin like a second layer of filth. But I wasn't fucking done with this cum-hungry bitch yet.

"STRETCH THAT FUCKING MOUTH WIDE, SLUT," I roared, my fingers digging into her cheeks so hard I left bruises, "OR I'LL RIP YOUR JAW OFF AND FUCK THE HOLE!" She whimpered,

"Y-YES, MASTER—! PLEASE!", her tongue flopping out like a dog in heat, her eyes wide with terror and sick, pathetic need.

I stroked my cock, aiming right at her disgusting face—"YOU'RE GONNA WEAR THIS LOAD, CUM-DUMPSTER,"—and unleashed hell.

SPLAT.

The first thick, white rope of cum SLAMED into her forehead, scalding hot, dripping into her eyelashes, blinding the worthless whore. Emily jolted, her back arching—"AAAAH—! FUCK—! IT'S BURNING MY SKIN—!"—her voice a shocked, breathy scream, her fingers flying to her face like she could wipe away her shame. But then—

SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT.

Five more shots—one across her cheekbones, one directly into her open mouth ("GLURK—! MMMPH—!"), another streaking through her hair, gluing it to her skull, one splattering her tits, and the last landing on her lips, dripping down her chin like melted filth.

"OH GOD—! IT'S EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE—! MMM—! IT TASTES SO FUCKING GOOD—!" she screamed, her body jerking, her tits bouncing, but then her tongue flicked out, catching a drip from her lip, and her eyes rolled back in disgusting bliss.

"MMM... SO THICK... SO SALTY... I WANT MORE—!" she moaned, her fingers trembling as she smeared the cum into her skin, "PLEASE, SIR—! LET ME LICK IT ALL—!"

"FUCKING CUM-SLUT," I growled, watching her react—her cheeks flushing, her nipples aching, her fingers rubbing her clit through her soaked panties.

"YOU LOVE THIS, DON'T YOU, WHORE?" I pinched her nipple through her dress, twisting—"AAAAH—! Y-YES—! I LOVE IT—! I LOVE BEING YOUR PERSONAL CUM-RAG—!" she cried, her voice cracking between pain and pleasure, her pussy juices dripping down her thighs.

Victor's voice EXPLODED through the phone, raw and guttural: "EMILY, YOU FUCKING DISGUSTING CUNT—! SPIT THAT SHIT OUT RIGHT NOW—!"

But she didn't.

Instead, she moaned, "MMM... NO, BABY— I WANT IT—", her eyes fluttering shut as she scraped a fingertip through the cum on her cheek—"MMMPH—"—and sucked it into her mouth, her tongue swirling like she was tasting the finest fucking delicacy.

"MMM... SO CREAMY... SO FUCKING DELICIOUS—" she whimpered, her fingers now rubbing her clit frantically, "I WANT TO DRINK IT STRAIGHT FROM YOUR COCK, SIR—!"

"OH, FUCK," I groaned, my cock twitching at the sight. "SHOW HIM, CUM-GUTTER." I yanked her hair, forcing her head back. "SHOW YOUR PATHETIC HUSBAND HOW MUCH YOU LOVE MY FUCKING LOAD."

Her lust-drunk eyes SNAPPED to the camera, locking onto Victor's horrified face. She dipped her fingers into the cum pooling on her forehead, then slowly, deliberately, pushed them into her mouth, moaning, "MMMPH— MMM... SO GOOD— I WANT TO DROWN IN IT—".

She swallowed, her throat working, then licked her lips, her eyes dark with filthy pleasure. "DO YOU SEE THIS, BABY?" she purred, her voice poisoned honey.

"DO YOU SEE HOW GOOD I LOOK WITH HIS CUM ALL OVER ME?" She giggled, her fingers now coated in cum, trailing down to tease her nipples through her dress.

Victor's voice was a snarling beast: "EMILY, YOU FUCKING TRAITOR—! I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL MURDER YOU BOTH—!"

"OOOOH~" Emily cooed, licking her lips, her cum-coated fingers trailing down her throat. "YOU SWEAR WHAT, DARLING?" She batted her eyelashes (still crusted with cum), her voice sickeningly sweet.

"GONNA SPANK ME WHEN YOU GET HOME?" She giggled, dipping her fingers back into her mouth, sucking them clean. "OR ARE YOU JUST MAD BECAUSE YOU KNOW HIS COCK IS BETTER THAN YOURS?" She moaned, her free hand shoving under her dress, fingering her pussy frantically, "MMM—! AH—! I'M SO WET— I NEED MORE— I NEED YOUR COCK DEEP IN MY THROAT AGAIN—!"

I laughed, slapping her ass—CRACK—"THAT'S RIGHT, BITCH." I grabbed the phone, shoving it closer to her face, forcing Victor to see every filthy detail. "LOOK AT HER, CUCK." I snarled.

"THIS IS YOUR WIFE NOW." I shoved two cum-coated fingers into her mouth, forcing her to suck them clean. "A FILTHY, CUM-DRENCHED WHORE WHO LOVES GETTING USED LIKE A CHEAP FLESH-TOY."

Emily moaned around my fingers, "MMMPH—! MMM... Y-YES, SIR—! I AM—! I'M YOUR LITTLE CUM-DUMPSTER—! YOUR PERSONAL SPERM BUCKET—!"

She gagged as I rammed my fingers deeper, her saliva dripping down her chin, her free hand rubbing her pussy harder, "AH—! AH—! I NEED IT—! I NEED TO BE FILLED—! PLEASE, SIR—! LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK AGAIN—!"

Victor's voice CRACKED like shattered glass: "I'M COMING FOR YOU—! I'LL KILL YOU—! I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING DICK OFF AND FEED IT TO YOU—!"

"NO, YOU WON'T," I cut him off, pulling my fingers from Emily's mouth with a wet POP. "YOU'RE GONNA SIT THERE..." I grabbed Emily's hair, forcing her to look at the camera, her face a mess of cum and tears. "...AND WATCH AS I BREAK HER COMPLETELY."

Emily whimpered, "P-PLEASE, SIR—! LET ME TASTE MORE—! I NEED IT—! I NEED TO BE YOUR PERSONAL TOILET—!" She licked her lips, her cum-glazed eyes locking onto the camera, her fingers shoving into her pussy, "AH—! AH—! I'M SO CLOSE—! PLEASE, SIR—! LET ME CUM FOR YOU—!"

"SAY GOODBYE, SLUT," I ordered.

She licked her lips, her voice dripping with venom and lust. "GOODBYE, BABY~" she cooed, blowing a kiss. "HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE SHOW..." She paused, her fingers now shoving into her pussy, moaning as she fingered herself.

"MAYBE NEXT TIME... YOU CAN WATCH IN PERSON..." She giggled, her voice turning dark. "IF YOU DARE..." She leaned in closer, her cum-drenched face filling the screen, "... BUT REMEMBER, BABY..." she whispered, her voice a razor, "... I BELONG TO HIM NOW."

The line went dead.

But the damage?

FUCKING PERMANENT.