#princesswrites

“Aww, honey, you’re home! How was your day?” Wilbur was almost numb to the soft, sweet voice after what he’d seen. His girlfriend, smiling at another man? She was his, his only.

She rounds the corner, rolling the baggy sleeves of Wilbur’s hoodie up over her wrists. “What’s wrong, baby? You’re acting quiet.”

Wilbur grabs her, kisses her roughly, needing to feel her in his arms to know she was his again. She giggles, threading her fingers through his hair as he tastes the sweet nectar of her lips.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” She asks playfully, batting his arm with the long sleeves of the hoodie. “Or do I have to guess?”

He finally speaks the first words after what he’d seen. “Nothing’s wrong, baby,” Wilbur lies. “Just missed my girl.”

“Aww, your girl?” She’s being sly, but it hits Wilbur where it hurts.

She’d smiled at him. Wilbur had watched through the store window, his girlfriend smiling at the cashier. He handed her the receipt, and she’d flashed her gorgeous smile at someone who wasn’t her boyfriend.

Wilbur pushes her down onto their old sofa, pawing at the fabric between them. “Need you,” he murmurs, finally pushing up the hoodie and burying his face between her soft, full tits. “My girl, only my girl,” he whines against her skin.

“Aww, baby, you really missed me, huh?” She whispers, stroking his hair. “Anything happen?”

She can’t know.

Wilbur shakes his head, rooting around until he sucks her nipple into his mouth, relaxing as his tongue flicks and strokes.

She groans slightly, sending every single ounce of blood in Wilbur’s body south. As his erection grows, he starts to hump and grind on her thigh, whining at the stimulation.

“Need to taste my girl, let me,” he begs, pulling away from her tits and tugging at her panties. “Please, baby, I need you.”

Smiling, she helps him tug her panties down. “You wanna eat my pussy, baby?”

“Yours,” he breathes, throwing her legs onto his shoulders and kissing her inner thighs.

Given the chance, Wilbur will suffocate on pussy. Breathing becomes less important, and he’ll give himself lockjaw before he dares pull away for a second. Combine this with how possessive he is, how much he needs her?

His tongue flicks up and down her soaked pussy, one hand gripped on her thigh, the other rubbing his aching erection. Feeling her legs wrapped around his head, her smell, his pussy singing on his tongue is too much for him to take. He explodes, filling up his boxers with rope after rope of hot, white cum, whining as he sucks her clit into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Will,” she moans, pushing his face harder into her dripping pussy. “Did you… did you cum?”

Wilbur nods, not stopping for anything. His hand snakes up, two fingers slipping inside of her and curling to the spot she loves, the spot that makes her eyes roll back.

His cock is still twitching as her first orgasm hits, liquid gushing into his mouth. He wouldn’t dream of stopping, so he swallows every drop and fingers her even harder.

“Don’t… stop,” she manages to cry out, body bucking at the hips at the overwhelming pleasure. More squirt gushes out with every pump of Wilbur’s fingers inside her, slick from her wetness.

Wilbur looses track of her orgasms after a while. All he knows is that he’s rock-hard again, and needs to be inside her.

In a fluid motion, he pulls his head back and his jeans and boxers down.

“Shit.” He looks up. “I didn’t buy more condoms.”

Her chest is heaving from the seemingly endless stream of orgasms Wilbur’s fingers have dragged from her.

“Can I go in raw this once?” He begs. “Please, baby? Just once?”

“One time… can’t hurt,” she whispers. “I need you inside me, I don’t care, please,”

The first thrust into her with his bare cock is the best thing Wilbur has ever felt.

“Never,” he growls, thrusting into her harder and harder. “Never. Buy. Condoms. Again.”

All she can do is whine, nails digging into his back in pleasure. Looking at his girlfriend’s perfect, gorgeous face, Wilbur can’t imagine her with someone who isn’t him.

“You’re mine,” he whines in her ear. “Say it.”

“I’m…” She tries, another sharp thrust making her gasp. “Yours.”

“Again.” He’s getting dangerously close to spilling inside her, and needs to hear it. As many times as she can say it.

“Oh, fuck, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, Will!” She clenches around him as another orgasm slams into her, crying out in pleasure.

That’s all it takes for him to fall over the edge yet again, his girlfriend gasping at the warmth of his cum flooding her insides. Wilbur thrusts until the overstimulation is painful, then pulls out, stray drops glistening on her lower stomach.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, kissing all over her bare stomach and chest.

She giggles, tugging him up for a kiss. “You needed that, huh?”

“Not as much as you need a shower. C’mon,” Wilbur smiles, scooping her in his arms and heading for their bathroom. “We can shower together. I need you to reach my back.”

The warmth of the shower relaxes Wilbur’s mind. His girlfriend sits in his lap on the floor, her dainty hands rubbing shampoo into his hair with a soft smile.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“How was your day, Will?” She asks, looking at him with her beautiful, bright eyes. The same beautiful, bright eyes that smiled at someone that wasn’t him, just a few hours ago.

He tugs her onto his lap, easing his cock inside her.

Saturday nights were always a hit or miss. Even though I’d spent hours getting ready, strapped my highest heels to my feet, and slipped into my signature look- tiny black thong, tinier black bikini, shiny red lips- I had made a grand total of 43 dollars.

“Slow night, then, love?” The bartender says sympathetically, reaching for what he needed for my usual. “Such a shame. You’re dressed to the nines without anyone to appreciate it.”

I suppress a groan, forcing my scarlett-painted lips into a sly smile. “So sweet of you to notice,” I murmur, tracing a sharp, sparkly nail down his forearm.

He slides my drink across the bar, made perfectly- vodka cranberry, extra shot of vodka, dash of simple syrup, lots of ice. Sometimes sloppy, lipstick-smudged blowjobs in the back alley really pay off.

“Hey boo, you’re up on stage. A group of guys just walked in.” My coworker, Amethyst, taps me on the shoulder. “Finish your vodka-cran and get shaking.”

“I’ll be sure to keep my eye on you, gorgeous,” the bartender winks as I down my drink. Once my back was turned, I allowed myself an eye roll. Amethyst laughs, shaking her head.

“Girl, even I wouldn’t do that for all the liquor behind that bar,” she tells me, grinning. “You look great, by the way. Those heels will be perfect. One of those guys is downright stunning. He’s taller than any of us in heels.

I glance over where she’s looking. Four guys sit at one of the nicer seats, a soft leather couch I’ve taken more than several naps on during slow nights. I immediately see the guy Amethyst is talking about. He’s at least a head taller than the other guys, with a softly sculpted jawline and a mess of brown curls falling over his eyes.

“Damn, let’s hope he has some seriously deep pockets.” I reply, laughing. “Wish me luck!”

“Whenever you’re ready, darling,” the DJ gives me a thumbs up. “You’ll kill it!”

I blow him a kiss as I walk out to applause. The club has filled out a little now, luckily, but the four guys Amethyst mentioned are front row. The silver chains laying over my hips swish as I walk, the rubies signature to my look softly clinking together.

“Gentleman, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the stunning Ruby Woo, a lady who will really get your blood flowing!” The DJ announces as I strut along the front of the stage, making eye contact with everyone I see. Amethyst taught me that trick when I first started stripping, and it worked like a charm. Men love to believe that the stripper likes them for more than their money.

I hook a leg around the pole and slowly spin, giving everyone a perfect view of my ass. As the music kicks up a notch, I straighten my leg fully, in a sideways split, still spinning ever-so-slowly as I play with the ties on my top. I can hear cheering, whistling, and my favourite sound- the soft flutter of money over the music.

As I bring my leg back down, I fall to my knees at the very front of the stage, biting my lower lip and shaking my tits while slowly spreading my legs apart. When my knees are far enough apart, I pull off Amethyst’s favourite move- riding an imaginary dick. I feel ridiculous, but money is raining over me and the cheers are growing louder.

I allow myself a glance at the tall guy and his friends, running a tongue along my top lip as I wink at him. He winks back, making me hide a grin. The only thing better than a hot guy in front of my stage is a stack of cash, and I note how many him and his friends are holding.

Slowly, I stand up and turn around. Amethyst always tells me that strippers need a ‘special sauce’, and mine is definitely my ass.

I shift to standing on the balls of my feet, tapping my heels together to clap my ass in time to the music. As the crescendo of the music hits, I tug the back of my top and it falls to the floor. When I turn back around, two heart-shaped, sparkling red pasties sit in its place, dotted in rhinestones.

I give the stage a second strut before I begin my pole routine, hopping off the stage to let the men get a proper look at me. Hands brush my ass, tits, hips, back, anywhere they can touch. Bills are stuffed into my thong, boots, even my garter.

The cute guy’s friends are egging him on to tuck a folded bill into my thong. Seizing my chance, I plant myself in front of him, planting a heel on the sofa next to him.

His handsome face is looking all over me, at my nearly-bare body, and I’m pleased to see a rock-hard boner in his pants, even a drop or two of precum starting to spread over the front of his jeans. As he slips the folded bill into my garter, I stroke his arm, blow him a kiss, and head back to the stage.

Normally, when I head to the pole and start my routine, my head goes blank. Nothing but me, the music, and the pole. While I’m excellent at pretending to like the men, I was not having to pretend I liked the tall guy in the front. Hot guys were rare in the club, even rarer that they had money.

I finish my routine to rounds of applause, pleased to see the rain of bills on the stage around me. Mostly 1s and 5s, but i’m surprised to see a few 20s in the mix. The curtains close, allowing me to gather my cash. I’d count it all later, but I knew for certain I’d beaten my record. The bill slipped into my thong by the hot guys in the front was a crisp 100.

“Those guys in the front are waiting for you,” Amethyst whispers as she walks up for her stage slot. “They’ve got stacks of 100s.”

Quickly, I stash my bag of cash, fix my lipstick, tie my top back on, and slink back to the floor area. Amethyst was right. The four men were still on the front couch.

“It’s rare you find four handsome men all at once,” I say, voice dripping with seduction. “How are you doing this fine evening?”

The hot one smiles, stepping closer and fiddling with the chains on my hips. “Well hello, there, darling. That was quite a show you put on for me.”

His friends have faded away, heading to the bar or being clung to by other girls. He doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are only for me.

“You know my name, but I haven’t quite caught yours,” I reply, running a finger down the buttons on his shirt.

He smirks. “Come sit on my lap and I’ll tell you?”

“Oh, honey, that’ll cost you. I only do that in the VIP.” It’s a risk, mentioning money so quickly, but he doesn’t even blink, counting out 10 more crisp 100s and sticking them in my thong strings.

I pretend to swoon, taking his hand and leading him to the VIP room. Flipping the sign on the door to ‘occupied’, I turn around to see him already lounging on the leather couch.

“Ok, handsome, what should I call you?” I whisper in his ear, sliding onto his lap and toying with his curls. “It’s a crime not to know the one name I’ll remember from tonight.”

“I’m Wilbur,” he replies, “but as long as you’re saying it in your sweet, sweet voice, you can call me what you like.”

Giggling, I kiss the tip of his nose. “Is Will ok?”

“Only if you take off your top,” he smirks, pulling out yet another stack of bills and threading some in next to the others. “How much extra to touch you?”

“500. Take it or leave it.”

He immediately counts out 5 more 100s. “How much for you to touch me?”

“Depends on how far you’re trying to get,” I reply, tracing a nail down the fly of his jeans. “I’ll do anything you want… for a price.”

“Anything?” Wilbur’s dark eyes run up and down my body.

I undo the straps on my top. “Anything,” I reply, placing his hands on my tits.

He gently squeezes them, and I gently grind on his still-hard cock. The stimulation makes him groan.

“Empty my balls and I’ll empty my pockets,” he whispers. “Deal?”

We were allowed to have sex with customers, but I never did. Or, at least, I thought I never would.

“Deal,” I reply, and he grins at me in the dim lighting. “I never do this, you know.”

“Oh, darling, you’ll never again after me. You know why?” Wilbur pulls out his wallet, sliding a shiny card into the top of my boot. “There’s a 100,000 dollar limit. I’ll tell you the pin… if you give me the time of my life.”

I unzip his jeans ever-so-slowly, licking my lips. “If you want head first, you’ll need a condom. Club rules.”

“What if I show you my test results from last week? I’m clean as a whistle,” he replies, pulling out his phone and showing me. He’s not lying.

I pretend to think. “I suppose I can bend the rules… just for you.”

His cock is huge, thick, and heavy, absolutely dripping with precum. He’s hot, he knows it, and I’m probably going to choke.

“This’ll feel even better inside me, Will,” I sigh, taking a deep breath and sliding as much as I can down my throat. I’ve never struggled with gagging before, but as my nose brushes his stomach, I have to fight the urge.

“Holy fuck,” he gasps. “Oh God.” His hips jump up, and I squeeze my eyes shut. All I can think about is not gagging.

His hands find my hair, and he grips it tightly, helping me to bob my head and push himself deeper into my throat. His cockiness seems to have vanished the second my lips wrapped around his cock, and I smile to myself.

“Nobody has ever fit me down their throat before,” he groans when I slide back to give my poor throat a rest. “God, you’re amazing.”

I start to lick and tease the head of his cock, stroking the rest as I fondle his balls. I’ve never met a man who doesn’t absolutely melt from that trifecta, and he’s certainly not the exception. Another bead of precum forms, and I lick it off, tracing my tongue all the way down to the base before I deepthroat him again.

I can feel each vein and throb from his cock as he fucks my throat, noises falling from his mouth getting louder and louder.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he gasps, pulling out of my throat, chest heaving. “I haven’t even been inside your pretty little pussy yet.”

“It would be such a shame if you didn’t get to feel how tight I am,” I sigh, looking up at him through my lashes.

He yanks my thong down, rips off my pasties, and stands up. “Bend over the arm of the couch.”

“Do you have a condom?” I ask, doing as he asks and shaking my ass invitingly.

Wilbur smiles. “Of course I do. Most condoms don’t fit me, anyway, so I have to bring my own.”

Smug bastard.

He takes off his jeans, unbuttons his shirt, and rolls on the condom. “You ready, baby girl?”

“I’ve been ready to feel you inside me the moment I saw you,” I murmur, looking over my shoulder. “Don’t go easy on me. I can take it.”

Sliding the tip of his cock through the folds of my pussy, he wraps an arm around my waist. “Oh, honey, you’ll regret saying that.”

He slides inside me slowly, letting me feel how he stretches me out, and when he’s finally all the way inside, I’d bet money that you’d see the bulge from his cock on my stomach if he flipped me over.

“Your pussy is magical,” he whispers, thrusting into me like I’m a fuckdoll for his enjoyment. As much as I’m in it for the money, it feels incredible, and I let out a small moan.

Wilbur spanks me, hard. “Louder, doll. I want to hear how good my cock makes you feel.”

“Will!” I cry out. “Fuck!”

“Good girl.” He yanks my head up by my hair. “God, you’re gorgeous. You’ve got a perfect body for me, the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt.”

I moan at his words, and he fucks me harder. The music and various sounds from the club fade away, and I can only hear his grunts and moans, his skin on mine, and how wet he’s made my pussy.

“Nobody’s ever fucked me this hard,” I gasp, and he somehow goes harder. “Your cock is so good, I’m gonna cum.”

Wilbur’s hand travels down and roughly rubs my clit. I squeal, and he rubs faster. “Moan my name as you cum on my cock.”

The orgasm slams into me, fire flooding through me from our joined bodies. I’m dimly aware of the gush of liquid from between my legs, knees shaking, and he has to hold me up.

“Oh, love, that was a good one, hm?” Wilbur whispers in my ear, kisses my cheek. “Nobody will ever make you cum like I will.”

I’m in absolute ecstasy. My entire body is so sensitive after my orgasm, every thrust feels like heaven.

Suddenly, he pulls out of me, flips me onto my back, and dives right back in. He’s thrusting just as hard, but guides my face up to meet his with a kiss. Wilbur tastes like whiskey and a hint of cigarette smoke, lips surprisingly soft and tender.

“I want to watch you cum again,” he says, pulling our lips apart. “Rub your clit while I fuck you, ok, baby?”

I do as he says, and he watches hungrily as my orgasm hits. A shower of squirt rains between us, and his eyes roll back as my pussy squeezes him.

“Oh, fuck, darling, that’s going to make me cum,” Wilbur grunts. “I’m going to pull out and paint those perfect tits of yours.”

He thrusts a couple more times, pulls out, and yanks off the condom. I reach up and finish him off, enjoying his moans as the sticky, hot cum showers over me. It’s seemingly endless, rope after rope shooting out and landing on my face, tits, and stomach.

Finally, his balls are drained as promised. I let go of his cock, run a finger through a little puddle of cum, and pop it into my mouth, licking it clean with a wink. “God, I love the taste of cum.”

Wilbur grins down at me. “You’re so fucking hot.”

I stand up, heading for the cupboard where we keep wipes, tissues, and anything else that our customers might need after a great time in VIP. I toss him a bottle of water and a package of tissues to clean himself up.

“Remind me what the date is today?” Wilbur asks after a few moments, dabbing my squirt off his stomach.

I think for a second. “November 30th.”

“1130 is the pin for the card, then. I’ll set it up tonight.” He smiles at me. “How much do you charge for, uh, personal sessions? Outside of the club.”

I bat my eyelashes at him to cover up my shock. “Let me give you my phone number so we can work things out, Will.” I’d gotten a work phone at Amethyst’s suggestion, and this is the first time I’d used it.

“I’ll pay whatever fees you want,” he promises, zipping up his jeans. “My band and I are on tour a lot, and I could always fly you out. Anywhere you’ve always wanted to visit?”

Is this real?

“I’ve always wanted to travel to Australia,” I say.

He nods, grabbing out his wallet and handing me every single bill. “That’s where we’ll tour next, then. All expenses paid for you, of course. First class plane tickets, a new purse, anything you could want. It’ll be yours.”

Coming home from a long shift, I sigh and kick off your shoes. What I found under my boyfriend’s side of the bed has been nagging at my thoughts all day, and I have no idea how to even breech the subject to him.

I was vacuuming the house on my day off. The vacuum kept getting stuck on something under our bed. I reached under to pull out a shoebox, and didn’t think anything of it until something rattled inside. I opened it, and I found-

A soft, low groan comes from the bedroom before I can finish the thought, and I jump. The door is closed. If it was Wilbur, my boyfriend, wouldn’t he have welcomed me home?

Carefully, ever-so-slowly, I creep towards the closed door. However, once I approach, I see the door isn’t actually closed. It’s been pulled almost-closed, a tiny gap of light visible between the frame and the edge of the door. Trying my best not to make a noise, I peer through the gap.

Wilbur is lying on our bed. However, it’s clear why he didn’t notice I came home. He’s naked from the waist down, one hand gripping the pillows, the other gripping a fleshlight, pumping it over his cock. Every few pumps, he stops, legs shaking, eyes screwed shut. Precum dribbles in sticky globs over his hands and the toy.

“Fuck,” he gasps, yanking the toy off his cock and thrusting into the air where it once was. It throbs pathetically, another bead of precum forming on the tip. He presses his head back, glowing phone screen slipping out of his hands and landing on the sheets. I notice he’s scrolling through my Instagram as he edges himself. How touching.

“What are you doing, baby?” I ask, pushing through the door and grinning at him. He’s white as a ghost at the sight of me, frantically trying to hide the box of toys that lays open.

Wilbur makes an effort to smile at me, trying to pretend he was doing anything else before I barged in. “You’re home!”

“You could’ve told me about the toys, Will,” I tell him, sitting next to him on the bed and tracing a nail down the length of his cock. “I found them when I was cleaning the other day.”

The shock on his face is quickly marred by pleasure as I rub the underside of his cock with my thumb, the spot right under the head that makes him squirm. “A-are you mad?”

“Of course not,” I reply, letting go of his cock. It bounces harshly against his lower stomach. “You don’t have to hide things from me.”

“It’s…” he whimpers. “Embarrassing.”

Slipping out of my work shirt, my hands reach around to unclasp my bra. “You’ve eaten my ass, but fleshlights are where you draw the line?”

“Good point,” Wilbur replies. His eyes are firmly on my tits, hand reaching for his cock again.

I finally get the bra unclasped, soft tits falling against my chest. “Aww, does somebody need a hand?”

He nods frantically, tugging me up into a sloppy, desperate kiss. He thrusts up between my legs, whimpering as he soaks my pants with precum.

“Good boy,” I whisper as I pull away, pinning his hands on the headboard. “Show me how badly you need to cum.”

Wilbur almost screams, trying to thrust into the air, but I’m sitting on his legs so he can’t move. “Fuck, please, need it, baby, please, let me!”

“If you’re good and can hold it while I play with you, ok?” He nods, eyes wide and darting between my face and chest. “Keep your hands there. If you move them, you’re not going to cum.”

I slide his aching cock between my tits, spitting on the tip so it glides between the soft mounds. Every movement makes him gasp, whine, or whimper.

“You feel so good,” Wilbur whispers, taking deep breaths and willing himself to hold back the explosive orgasm building. “Please don’t stop.”

I slowly pull up his cock, barely moving as he squirms on our sheets. “I call the shots. I’ll stop if I want to.”

“S-sorry, baby, I know you’re in charge,” he apologizes, tears forming pathetically in his dark eyes.

Smiling, I spit on my palm and start to stroke him again. “Aww, you’re learning. Since you were so good, I’ll let you choose how you cum.”

“Let me use your throat,” Wilbur pleads. “Please, baby. Please. I-I’ve been good.”

I pull him into a kiss, hand resting on his chest. “Tell me that you’re mine, and you’ll never cum without my permission.”

“I’m yours,” he murmurs, squeezing my tits and smiling at me in the dark. “I-I’ll never cum without your permission. Never.”

I slide onto the floor, tying my hair up and giving him a wink. “Good boy. Make yourself cum with my throat.”

Wilbur’s hands grasp my hair as he forces himself down my throat, gibberish falling from his mouth as he feels the warm, tight hug of my throat around his desperate cock. It barely takes 3 thrusts until he’s there, rope after rope of hot, sticky cum filling my throat and mouth. I swallow everything he gives me, relishing in the bitter tang of it.

“That’s my good boy,” I praise when he pulls out of my mouth. “You did so well holding that back.”

Pastor Gold grips the edge of his vanity mirror, standing backstage in his dressing room after a Sunday sermon. His hair is askew, tie crooked. It was a good sermon, he supposes. A good sermon on the dangers of lust. The sheer irony of it all! Pastor Gold’s vision blurs, recalling the girl in the front row. He could see her so clearly in the lights, dress fanning out over her slender legs, breasts straining against buttons, kitten heels delicately crossed at the ankle. She’d dressed modestly, skirt to her knees and collar to her neck. It made him want her even more.

He slides a ring from one finger to the other. No point dwelling on her now. He had confessions to do, something he detested. It was often left to Father Goldsmith, but he wasn’t there that day. He’d offered to jump in, thinking he’d say no.

“Father Goldsmith?” A sweet voice comes from behind the wall separating the booth. “I’m here to confess my sins.”

Pastor Gold swallows. “It’s Pastor Gold this week. I can still help, if you’d like?” The wood separating them is cracked. He can see the edge of a skirt and a pointed kitten heel.

“Thank you, Pastor,” she says. “Bless me, Pastor Gold, I have sinned. This is my first confession.”

“Go on,” he replies. The kitten heels cross at the ankles again, and he recognizes them with a jolt.

“I’ve been committing the sin of lust,” she whispers. “Several times this month.”

His cock twitches.

“I’ve wanted to save myself for marriage. But I can’t take my eyes off of this man. I catch myself staring, imagining his lips on mine, how we’d… consummate our marriage.”

Pastor Gold shifts against the hard wooden bench. He’s only half-hard, and tries everything he can to make it go back down. He cannot be clouded by his lust for her while she confesses her own.

“For these and all my past sins, I’m truly sorry,” she finishes.

He hears a soft sigh, and before he stops himself, imagines her making the sound as they would consummate their own marriage.

“Pastor?”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, adjusting the now-rock hard boner in his pants. “There’s nothing innately wrong with how you feel. It’s actions that matter.”

“But lust is a sin,” she insists. “I’m dirty, I’m filthy-“

“Have you acted on your lustful thoughts?” He asks, holding back a groan as his hand brushes his cock.

She’s silent for a few moments. “Yes, I have.”

He’s too far gone to ignore his achy, throbbing cock. His thumb brushes the tip, precum soaking through the cheap, baby blue fabric.

“That’s just God testing you,” he says. “He’s telling you that you’re ready to get married and have a family.”

“He is?” She says, almost excitedly. “Why is that?”

Pastor Gold smiles, imagining himself as the one to fill her up with his seed. “Don’t you see? When you are married, lusting over your husband isn’t a sin. It’s important to your relationship. How else would you bear his children?”

He’s lying through his teeth, anything to make her keep talking.

“Has he told you who my husband is going to be?”

Me.

“You’ll know him when you meet him,” Pastor Gold lies. “You never know, he could be in this very church.”

“Thank you so much, Pastor Gold,” she whispers. “I promise I’ll save myself for him.”

He smiles. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “I’ll pray for you.”

“Could you pray over me now?” She asks. “I want to hear it from you.”

“O-of course,” he replies. “Dear Lord, bless this woman and her womb. Send a godly husband to her to give her as many children as you see fit. She wants to pass on her love of you to her family, and be commanded by both you and her husband.”

“Thank you so much,” she replies. “That was so helpful, Pastor.”

“Anytime,” he replies. “You may leave.”

The second she’s gone, Pastor Gold almost sprints back to his dressing room. He locks the door. Double checks the lock. Triple checks it, shoves a chair under the doorknob. He collapses into his chair, usually used for writing sermons, but there’s nothing holy in there today. His cock is almost screaming, painfully asking for release.

Pastor Gold shoves his tie into his mouth, unzips his pants, muffling his moan against the pink satin as he strokes down the throbbing, achy length. Precum flows freely, slicking up his hand and letting him stroke faster and faster.

“I catch myself staring, imagining his lips on mine, how we’d… consummate our marriage.”

He imagines their wedding night, taking off her long white dress, tossing her onto a hotel bed, the look on her face as she feels a cock spread her open for the first time. He’d last seconds, filling her up over and over, enough to give her as many babies as she wanted.

“I’m dirty, I’m filthy-“

Her warm, soft breasts would fill up when he’d filled her womb. They’d grow even more, spilling out of any clothes she owned. He wanted his face between them, his mouth on them, wondering what they’d feel like to hold.

The tie slides out of his mouth, his head tilting back, mouth open and gasping. Pastor Gold knows anyone can hear him, and he doesn’t care. He needs the sweet, sweet release, and he’s almost there. All the nerves in his cock are on fire, all the blood in his body surging downwards, making him harder than he’s ever been in his life.

“I promise I’ll save myself for him.”

He explodes all over himself, releasing rope after rope of sticky white. It flows down his hands, pools on his button down, even spurts onto his face and hair. The orgasm is mind blowing, and he can’t stop jerking his hand, using his own cum as lube. The load is almost never ending, soaking his pants, boxers, shirt, and suit jacket.

Finally, Pastor Gold releases his dick, coated in his own cum, and tries to wipe his face. His hand is covered, his face is covered, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed by shame.

He uses most of his tissue box to try and clean off the regret, but he can barely focus. His reflection swims in the mirror, and he can barely recognize himself. When he looks semi-normal again, he runs out.

“Hey Will, have you done any laundry lately? I’m missing a few pairs of underwear I swore I’d thrown in the wash.”

“No, baby, I haven’t. Sorry.”

Liar.

Wilbur had stolen them out of the laundry himself.

He’d seen the tiny lacy panties sitting in the laundry basket, blood rushing south in a dizzying gush as he saw they’d been worn recently. So recently, in fact, that when he reaches in to grab them, they’re slightly warm from his girlfriend’s body. The gusset is damp, warmer than the rest, and tiny smears of discharge send lightning through his body at the sight.

She’d been at work when he thought to do some chores, and the knowledge of the empty house and the treasure he’d found was too much to bear. Gathering the bundle of panties in his hands, he breathes in the intoxicating scent. His rock-hard cock is poking pathetically through his pajama pants.

Right there, on the floor of the laundry room, Wilbur falls to his knees. The hard wooden floor stings his flesh, but he barely registers the pain. He yanks down the waistband of his pants, leaking cock springing free and desperate for some stimulation.

Another sniff of the panties sends a bead of precum to the tip of his cock, and he rubs a pair of the panties over the wet spot. The feeling of her panties, wet from her pussy, on the tip of his sensitive cock almost sends him over the edge. Wilbur lets out a shuddery breath as the orgasm buildup fades away.

Not yet.

Spying a plastic bottle and some rogue hair ties littering the floor, the lack of blood in Wilbur’s brain decides he needs to try his hand at a homemade fleshlight. Unlike the ones he’d made in his youth, as a pathetic shy virgin, this one would use his girlfriends panties, smelling of her and covered in the sweet juicy nectar that drips from her perfect pussy.

Anyone who’s been around a horny, dick-wielding partner knows that they rarely think straight when all the blood is down south. The contraption that Wilbur creates is ridiculous, but to his brain, it’s the perfect solution to his aching cock. The first thrust into is almost worse than his hand, but he’s in heaven. The panties and hair ties are dry, almost chafing, but if he closes his eyes, it works fine. It might’ve worked better if he used all of the panties in his creation, but he refused to take a pair away from his nose.

Wilbur whimpers and thrusts into the toy harder, precum smoothing out the rough fabric and making him pump harder and harder. He’s alone, smothered by the scent of his girlfriend’s pussy, and he’s loud. He doesn’t stop the noises slipping from his lips with every movement in the makeshift toy.

With a deep inhale of the panties, he explodes inside the toy, coating the lace in sticky cum as he groans. The overstimulation is almost too much as the orgasm fades away, but he can’t stop thrusting.

The second orgasm is no more than a weak spurt of watery cum, much unlike the explosive first climax. It’s barely more than a blip in his mind, but it’s the first time he’s ever finished twice in one session.

The toy remains hidden in Wilbur’s sock drawer, as well as other pairs of panties he’s stolen away.

“That’s weird, because I saw them buried in your sock drawer,” his girlfriend replies. “I was putting your laundry away.”

Wilbur freezes.

“I’m not mad, baby. Just curious why you stole my underwear.”

He looks at the floor. “I can’t help it, I love your pussy. I’m sorry.”

She smiles, touches his hand. “That’s cute, I won’t lie. Why don’t you help yourself to my older pairs, so I can still wear my good ones?”

“O-of course,” Wilbur stammers. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? It’s flattering.” She squeezes his hand in hers. “Why don’t we head upstairs? I want you to eat my pussy through the panties… if you’re not opposed?”

Superstarbur: Superstarbur is very dominant in bed, but we all knew this. Choking, spanking, handcuffing his partner, tying his partner to the bed, edging, orgasm denial, making his partner beg, ruining their orgasm, and blindfolding them is what gets him off. Anything he can do to hold his power over you. He does work hard to get his partner off, not because it turns him on, but because it strokes his massive ego that he’s making you feel that good. Obviously, this man is packing a massive dick. Long, thick, and perfectly curved to hit all the spots you want it to.

Simpbur: Simpbur is quite submissive, but sometimes his obsessive nature wins and he’s demanding what he wants you to do to him. He loves to be tied down, blindfolded, choked, edged, and having his orgasms controlled by his partner. In fact, nothing turns him on more than being told exactly if and when he’s allowed to cum. If he’s being obsessive, he’ll beg to get his face sat on. He’d happily suffocate to let you use his face to get off. Call him a ‘good boy’ and he may cum in his pants. As for size, he’s a bit below average.

Incelbur: Nobody is more submissive than Incelbur. His kinks are whatever his partner’s kinks are, and he never thinks about your pleasure. He’ll jackhammer you until he cums within minutes, rolling away when he’s finished. Poor guy has a very below average dick, and if he was a decent partner, it wouldn’t matter.

Dadbur: Unsurprisingly, Dadbur has a breeding kink. His breeding kink doesn’t just involve the thought of stuffing you full of his cum, but all the dirty talk. He needs you to beg for it, needs to tell you how perfect your body is for carrying his baby, needs you to want it as badly as he does. He’s a switch, playing whatever part his partner wants from him. His partner’s pleasure is all he wants, and thinks nothing about his orgasm. It’s all about what they want. It’s rare you two would have rough, kinky sex. He prefers worshipping your body, kissing every inch, and preferring to enjoy the feelings of your bodies together instead of worrying about the climax. He’s just above average down there, but it’s thick, heavy, and curved so beautifully, you can’t believe it’s real.

Princebur: Considering Princebur doesn’t know much about sex and has only been with you, he doesn’t have any. He just loves how amazing it feels to be inside you, feel your body next to his, and lives for the feeling of your skin against his. To him, sex is far more than just producing heirs. Pretty ahead of his time. Everything about his dick is average, but obviously, he doesn’t know that people get hung up about size. Such a simple time, huh?

Vampirebur: Vampirebur is a switch. I have no basis for this, but it’s true. He loves to bite you HARD during sex, drawing blood to lick up, especially between your legs. The sight of his cum mixing with your blood makes him need a second round almost immediately. He’s basically the ideal partner if you’re into temperature play, his icy dick pushing into your warm body and making you feel every vein stretch you open. His dick is long but the girth is pretty subpar.

Having a superstar for a boyfriend was great in many ways. I’d traveled the world with him on his tours, got lavish gifts at every opportunity, and never had to worry before swiping my credit card.

However, if our schedules clashed and I had to stay behind when Wilbur was off on tour, it got incredibly lonely. The spacious home that seemed luxurious for two became echoing, empty, and silent.

My usual routine was sleep in as late as I wished, feed the stray cats Wilbur was enamoured with that slept under our porch, spend the day keeping myself busy, maybe run a few errands, then spend the evening in our bed catching up with my boyfriend. He’d call me from backstage, the tour bus, even the rare hotel room he’d book for his days off. I’d been dozing that evening when my phone buzzed me awake.

“Well, hello there, darling,” Wilbur’s soft voice made me smile. He’s lounging backstage in a dressing room, sweaty from his show that night. “Busy day for you?”

I giggle, relaxing at his familiar voice. “Oh, definitely. The cats are doing well, I tried my best to give them some attention today. What did you name the tiny black one, again?”

“Alex Turner,” he laughs. “Why, what was he up to today?”

“I brushed his fur and gave him a bit of a spa day, he wasn’t trying to claw my face off for once,” I smile. “He misses his daddy.”

Wilbur stretches his arms out over his head. “Aww, you want to keep him, don’t you?”

“I think you just like being called ‘daddy’, hm?” I tease, and he bites his lip.

“Fuck, I miss you, baby,” he sighs.

“How badly do you miss me?” I pout.

“Should’ve snuck you on the bus and into my bunk. It’s barely big enough for me, but we’d make it work, that’s how badly I miss you.”

I snuggle deeper into our bed, rolling onto my side to grin at him. “Sounds like what you said the first time we had sex.”

He groans. “Don’t remind me that we haven’t seen each other in over a week. I’m dying without you, baby.”

“Aww, does your hand not cut it anymore?” I reply teasingly. “There probably isn’t any privacy on the bus. You must be pent up.”

“Pent up is an understatement,” Wilbur murmurs. “I was hoping you’d be feeling the same way, maybe want to hear me as I cum, pretending it’s inside you?”

The heat pooling between my thighs is a normal occurrence for our calls, but I hadn’t pushed for phone sex. I knew he was usually never alone.

“Won’t people hear you?” I ask, and he shrugs. “You know I can’t say no to you, Will.”

He smiles, and I hear his zipper slowly being undone. “Good girl. I left you a little gift for just an occasion. Why don’t you check the top drawer of your nightstand?”

I reach over and pull open the drawer. There’s a wrapped box, adorned with ribbons, sitting on top of everything else.

“You can open it, love,” Wilbur softly chuckles.

I slide off the ribbons, rip open the paper, and see an inconspicuous box. Upon opening the box, I’m taken aback.

“You molded your dick for me?” I gasp, reaching in and grabbing the toy. “In my favorite color, too?”

“I couldn’t let you forget how well I fill you up, princess,” Wilbur replies. “Take off your clothes and put on my hoodie, it’s on the back of the door.”

Glancing back at the screen as I pull off my shirt, he’s set the phone up on a table in front of him. His button-down shirt is undone, fly of his jeans open, the tip of his hard cock just peaking out from the waistband of his boxers.

His hoodie is gigantic on me, of course, falling to mid-thigh. Wilbur was always begging me to wear it when we fucked, and I loved the feeling of him filling me up with cum as I was wrapped in his scent.

“Let me see you too, baby,” he whispers, rubbing a thumb across the tip of his cock and softly groaning. “I want to watch your gorgeous pussy cum for me.”

I sit back against the headboard, legs spread. Wilbur licks his lips.

“Fuck, I miss my favourite snack,” he sighs, rubbing his hand over his clothed cock. “Why don’t you slide that toy in your tight little pussy, see if it fits?”

Spitting on the dildo, I lick and suck on the tip before sliding as much as I can down my throat. Wilbur softly curses, pulling his jeans and boxers down around his knees and pumping his cock a few times.

“Aww, does that turn you on, baby?” I coo, pulling the toy out of my mouth and rubbing it on my clit. “You like pretending that’s me getting you off?”

“Oh, darling, I’m not pretending.” Wilbur winks at me, digging into his backpack and pulling out one of my thongs and my body lotion. “I’m going to breathe in that perfect pussy as your lotion makes me cum.”

My clit throbs. “I knew you stole my lotion!”

Wilbur spreads the lotion up and down his shaft and presses the panties over his nose. “Aww, you’ll stop complaining when my cock stretches you out, won’t you?”

I slide the tip into my soaked pussy, eyes rolling back in my head from the feeling. His breathing through the phone, combined with the slick sounds of his cock and his fist only add to the pleasure.

“Good girl, good,” Wilbur praises, groaning as I finally take all of the toy. “Fuck yourself and pretend it’s the real thing.”

Gripping the base, I slowly thrust the silicone in and out of me, toes curling every time I push it deeper. He must’ve spent a fortune on it. Aside from it being colder and firmer, the veins and tiny details are identical.

“Faster,” he growls, breathing in the scent of my thong.

I oblige, crying out from the pleasure swirling in my stomach. I was fucking myself so hard it almost hurt, but I couldn’t stop.

“Look at you,” Wilbur whispers. “You’re whining from just a piece of silicone? Dirty little thing. Pathetic.”

It was embarrassing how much being degraded turned me on. He knew this, and loved it.

“You should be grateful that I’m going to even consider letting you cum,” he continues. “Why should you be allowed to cum on something that’s not my dick?”

All I can do is whine.

“Slap yourself.” Wilbur demands, and I immediately obey, palm striking my cheek with a sting. “You little slut, look at you. You do what I say without even knowing why, don’t you?”

“Of course, anything for you, Will,” I reply, cutting off with a moan. “I always obey you.”

I glance down at the screen. He’s smiling at me. “That’s my good girl,” he whispers. “Go on, why don’t you use that dildo and make yourself cum for me?”

I eagarly thrust it harder and faster, breaths coming faster and faster. “Oh, fuck, Will, I’m gonna cum.”

“Ok. Stop.”

I let go of the toy with a wounded look, and he’s smirking. “You really thought you’d be cumming? Silly girl. You know I’m always in charge.”

Wilbur is still stroking himself, lotion and precum oozing in a thick mixture between his fingers and dripping onto his stomach. Everything between my legs throbs, and wetness smears between them.

“What do I need to do so you let me cum,” I whimper, squirming around on our sheets.

“Oh, let me think, darling,” Wilbur pretends to think. “Why don’t you edge yourself so I can get myself off?”

I reach down to rub my clit, groaning. “And then I can cum?”

“If I feel like it.”

I can tell Wilbur is trying to act dominant, but the act is fading as he gets closer to his own release.

“Cum with me,” he grunts, hips shaking as he tries to control his orgasm. “I’m close.”

I lean my head back, eyes squeezed shut, but he stops me. “Eyes on me, princess. Watch me as you cum. Need you to know I’m the only person to turn you on this much.”

Just as I gasp and lean into the climax, I hear Wilbur groan out a long, shaky “fuuuuuck’, and watch him explode all over himself. Liquid gushes from between my thighs as the pleasure bursts from every pore. His grunts as his hips pump into his hands only add to the sheer bliss.

“Oh, good girl, that’s my good girl,” he praises once he opens his eyes, down from his high. “Look at how much you came!

“I can say the same about you,” I slyly retort. “I’m not sure if I’m looking at my boyfriend or a human fountain.”

Laughing, Wilbur reaches for a towel on the table in front of him, wiping up the sticky rivers dripping from his skin. “I can also say the same about you, darling. God, we needed that, huh?”

“Your shoe’s untied, loser,” comes a jeering voice behind Wilbur, and when he looks down on impulse, a heavy blow hits the back of his head.

“Told you he’d fall for it!” Another voice laughs, hands slamming into Wilbur’s back and pushing him down. His open backpack hits the floor, contents spilling all over the hallway. “Pick it up, bitch.”

Wilbur fights to keep his face neutral. He knows not to react. It just makes things worse.

“Hey!” A new voice joins in. “What the fuck?”

He looks up from his rather uncomfortable position to see a cascade of shiny hair, sweet perfume, and a perfectly manicured hand being held out to him. Wilbur doesn’t take it.

“Oh, sweetie.” The voice might come off as condescending to some, but Wilbur’s enchanted. “I’m not going to push you down again. Just take it.”

Her soft skin brushes against the rough surface of Wilbur’s as she pulls him to his feet, dusts the dirt from the hallway floor off the knees of his baggy jeans. “I’m sorry, they suck.”

All he manages in return is a half smile and a hint of a laugh. He’s tongue-tied at the best times, but it’s worst around girls.

“Wilbur, right?” She asks, perfectly plucked eyebrow arching into a question. “You sat behind me in history last semester, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yea, I did, now that I think of it,” he rambles, trying to make it seem like he didn’t stare at her bra straps through her shirt every class period that semester.

She wordlessly kneels down, giving Wilbur a nice view of her ass in skinny jeans and the hint of lacy panties at the waistband as she gathers his things off the floor. “You’ve got lunch now, too?”

“Y-yea,” he replies, taking the stack of textbooks and papers she hands him.

Standing up, she smiles at him. “You should come eat with me. We can sit in my car, nobody will bother you there. Cmon. You’re cute for a nerd.”

Wilbur can hardly believe his luck when he’s sat in the passenger seat of her car a few minutes later, fingers tangled in a shared bag of chips sitting in the cupholder between them. She’s sat elegantly, chewing her salad and glancing over every few moments to meet his eyes with a smile.

“I like your car,” he blurts out.

She laughs. “Aww, thank you, sweetie. I inherited it from my older sister. It’s a bit of a shitbox, but hey. What can’t some decorations and an air freshener fix?”

There’s a cheap plastic garland of flowers dangling from the rearview mirror and the smell of body spray in the air. Several hairties sit in the cupholder next to a tube of sparkly lipgloss. The beat-up dash has several sparkly knickknacks and another tube of lipgloss scattered about. It’s the closest he’s been to a woman in ages, and he’s leaking precum with excitement.

“You’re sweet,” she murmurs. “It’s a shame everyone treats you like shit.”

Wilbur swallows his mouthful of sandwich. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so.” She reaches over, brushes a crumb off his cheek. “We’re into the same nerd stuff, too. I saw the stickers on your notebook.”

“Really?” He can’t believe it. “Y-you also watch anime?”