The Priest’s Confession
The pew stank of stolen wine as his cassock defiled her trembling knees. “Bless this—,” she sobbed, but his thrusts owned her for the devil. The confession bell ignored their sacrilege.
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Neighbor’s Wife
The pool house smelled of cheap detergent as he threw her down against the washing machine. Her husband’s shirt dug into her skin with every spank. “Louder,” she demanded, the blaring TV covering her screams.
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Office
The keyboard clicks masked their muffled gasps as she knelt under his desk. His slacks loosened, her lips wrapped around his arousal, her gaze fixed on the monitor feed in the hall. A coworker’s call carried from the hallway, and he warned, “They’ll see us.” She just sucked harder, her grip urging his hips until he gave in.
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Rooftop
The city spun below as he lifted her onto the railing. Wind chilled her exposed skin, but his tongue warmed her throat. “Hold on,” he warned, sinking into her with a curse. Her moan got lost in the night.
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