
Cool Jock Stoner Werewolf Teaches You How To Fuck
Jock Stoner Teaches you how to fuck. Takes your virginity and breeds you
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Jock Stoner Teaches you how to fuck. Takes your virginity and breeds you

Sensitive bad boy catches you watching him. Hookup ensues. He catches feelings for you

A man you have never met has you in a room a thousand miles from home, and he is filming. Someone owes him money — not you — and he has decided you are how it gets settled, on camera, in front of the one person who could end this with a transfer and keeps not sending enough. He is unhurried and horribly courteous about it, narrating you to a lens, pricing every reaction. Then it turns: somewhere past the halfway mark the cruelty cools into something almost tender, and he stops playing to the camera and talks only to you, slow and close and certain about what he means to leave behind. The money lands, he keeps his word, and the voice you actually know steps out to tell you none of it was real.

Where did you find out about that word sweetie? That’s a big girl word. Are you sure you know what it means? Daddy is gonna stay outside while you explore yourself. Have fun and Daddy will be back… ….”Fuck she looks so hot”

Tied up and ready to cum. Presenting yourself in bondage to be ravaged. Clothes torn

He is back from a trip and you go out to meet the car. He wants a full turn first, then he carries the heavy things in, holds your face, checks you over, and asks whether you have been safe, happy, feisty — and whether you behaved while he was gone. You did not: you touched yourself without asking him first. He lays the punishment out in three numbered terms and tells you he loves you in the same breath. Everything after that is about waiting. He walks you to the edge and stops, again and again, takes what he wants in between, and keeps your release just out of reach until he decides you have earned it. When he finally hands it over, he is proud of you, and he stays.

He has laid out the lingerie he bought you and wants to see it on you before anything else — the older man who spoils you, who keeps score of how good you have been and settles up in silk and diamonds. He fastens the necklace at your throat himself. Then he tells you about a third present, the one you have been asking him for: he checks that you want it, ties your ankles, your knees, your wrists, and puts on a blindfold with a promise to take it off before the end. The turn comes once you cannot move. He tells you what he actually wants tonight, and that he has been keeping track of your cycle and chose today on purpose. It ends on the life he says the two of you are starting.

Aw sweetie does it feel funny down there? Maybe daddy can help… here is a special toy I knew you would need one day… I can show you how to use it. …But Daddy’s Privates feel better don’t they?

Can't sleep? Don't worry, Daddy can help. He knows how swollen your nipples can get when your body is changing. Let him use his machine and milk every precious drop out of your growing breasts. He even knows where to touch to make it feel good...

The professor who kept you after class has a home, and in this sequel to Hot Professor Keeps You After Class you finally see it. It opens where you end up — bound, silenced, wholly his, listening to him plan the training of a newer student — then rolls back to the night that made you. In his office he offers the easy exit: stay professor and student, papers graded fairly, nothing more said. He wants the choice to be yours. You make it. At his place, unhurried, he peels away your fear the way he taught you literature — patiently, deliberately — and takes a first that can never be returned. It ends with you held against his chest, changed for good, and burning at the thought of the girl he trains next.

FUNNY BOYFRIEND FUCKS YOI LOVINGLY BUT HIS WEREWOLF SIDE SLIPS OUT

He opens with one question, asked low and unhurried in the dark beside you: can you be good for him tonight? Answering would make this easy, he says. Then he decides he would rather find out for himself, and somewhere in the first ten minutes the asking stops — he is telling you where to look, what to take off, how long to wait, and when you are allowed to finish. He narrates the whole time how easily you move for him, and he is not wrong. When he finally has you he takes his time about it, finishes inside you, and tells you that filling you up is his favourite thing in the world. Then the sheets, an arm around you, and a promise of more in the morning.

You are the only woman in a camp full of loggers, and one of them has spent weeks failing to say hello. He manages it at last on the road by the store, with a run of terrible jokes about hard wood and an address he hopes you will use: cabin four, eight o'clock. You never give him your name, so he calls you Mystery Woman and expects you anyway. A storm brings you to his door soaked through. He takes your coat, sits you in his favourite chair, and warns you that he is a bad man you probably cannot handle. Then you stop waiting and move first, which undoes him completely. He is filthy-mouthed, careful with you, and by the end he is asking, almost shyly, when he can see you again.

Funny Boyfriend Fucks you rough for Valentines day. Takes you like an animal

You’ve started to rub and it feels good. But why? Maybe Daddy Knows. Daddy knows everything. But daddy doesn’t like when you touch him… especially there. Let’s touch him again and see how he feels. I hope he doesn’t get mad. I don’t like when Daddy gets angry, it means he spanks me… Let’s see if your body is ready for a baby… maybe it will take.

You have him so worked up he cannot stand up from the table without the whole room finding out, and he is enjoying telling you whose fault that is. Before you leave he says the thing he has been saving: tonight is the anniversary of the day he first made himself speak to you, and he still cannot believe his luck. Upstairs there is a suite with the city laid out behind the glass and a promise that anything you point at is yours. Then it turns. The man who says you keep him steady decides he is the one in charge tonight, undresses you himself, takes his time, and finishes it against that window, anything but gentle. Afterwards he asks to be held, and does not let go until morning.

This bad boy takes it.

It is an ordinary evening on the couch, the late news murmuring, and you will not leave your husband alone. You climb into his lap looking for trouble, and he knows exactly what you are asking him for: he calls it going Big Daddy on you. First he makes you earn it, with instructions, begging, permission for every step and a great deal of praise when you get it right. Then he tells you the rough version is only for bad girls, so if you want it you will have to misbehave for it. You do, deliberately. He knows you are ovulating, he knows you are off birth control, and he has no intention of being careful. Afterwards he apologises for shouting, tells you he loves you, and claims you for good.

He belongs to your best friend, and you spend the afternoon with him anyway: bickering over brioche in the shop, squeezing past each other at the checkout, laughing at his terrible jokes while the pan heats. Then he reaches over you for the salt and neither of you steps away. He tells you this is a mistake while he is already kissing you: what she will think, what you both stand to lose, how right it feels regardless. Years of wanting come out in one afternoon, from the kitchen to the couch, including a moment where he asks you to stop and you decide not to. He finishes with his eyes on yours, asks you to keep it quiet, and then says something much bigger than he meant to.

You've just came up short with the money to pay for your fix. Luckily you've been working as a woman of the night.... you have other things that you can offer instead of money.... and this dominant drug dealer wants you.

Daddy starts to teach you how your parts work but he gets so turned on watching you explore he can't help it... He knows your ready to learn about sex... but he really doesn't want to give in. Let him practice using your girl parts. The most special man in your life deserves to be your first... doesn't he?

You arrive at a stranger's house and he makes small talk for a minute before he gets to it. His wife cannot conceive; a friend put your name forward because you look uncannily like her, and the money, the nine months and the anonymity were all agreed with someone else before you walked in. He is older than you, apologetic, faintly embarrassed by the second method he can barely bring himself to name. You are ovulating today. What begins as an appointment — quick, unromantic, exactly as his wife instructed — stops being one halfway through, when he decides she never has to know and asks whether you would rather do it properly. He spends the rest of it undone by you, and afterwards he cannot stop saying he has never felt this close to anyone.

He is the friend you have wanted for years, and earlier today he pressed a box into your hand and apologised for what happened between you. Tonight he asks you to meet him at the park at moonrise, because what he needs to tell you is easier to show. You find him early on his bench, and for a while it is oranges and old stories and an admission that he wanted you first. Then the cloud clears, he tells you to run, and he is not himself: the half hour that follows belongs to something that owns you and says so. When he surfaces he is wrecked, apologising, asking whether you could love him like this — and asking you to stay the night.

Your boss's office, end of quarter, and you are bottom of the leaderboard for the third time running. He takes your excuses apart — every fix answered before you finish saying it — and gives you until the end of the week to clear your desk. Then he tells you to lock the door, asks whether there is another way you might make it up to him, and you are the one who moves first. What follows is corporate language turned filthy: a role invented on the spot, a dress code read out one garment at a time, an inspection over his desk, a breeding policy delivered without a flicker. It ends with him admitting he has wanted you since your first day, and booking you in for noon and four thirty. Every day.
A good story doesn’t need a screen. Every title in this library is a complete erotic audio story — a scene with a beginning, a build, and an ending that lands — performed by the one voice this whole site is named for. Some are ten-minute detours; some are hour-long slow burns. All of them tell you exactly what you’re getting into before you press play: the length, the mood, and how filthy it gets.
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