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Sunday School Sin
The pew stained her back as his cassock slid open around her greedy mouth. “Forgive me, Father,” she moaned, though the command died when he filled her without prayer. The bell tower spun into their new religion, her holy rapture his final hymn.
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Promotions Were Earned on Her Knees Tonight
The reports ruined across the mahogany desk as he forced her to present herself. Her blouse shoved aside, his tie now binding her wrists. “This is mandatory,” he mocked, using her on the conference table until her moans matched the cleaning crew.
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18
The Drunk Bridesmaid
The bathroom counter banged as her lacy dress dropped around her feet. “Fuck your date,” he taunted, biting her exposed ass. The clinking glasses outside masked her whimpers, but not the wet sound of him taking her before the toast.
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