Joko44
patreon
Tempting the Unknown Ch. 03
🕑 Added 2025-08-25 04:47:40 +0000 UTCAyla groaned softly as she stirred awake, her lids fluttering against the pillow. Her body felt heavy and tender in places she hadn’t remembered being so sensitive in a long time. A deep, dull ache lingered between her thighs, the kind of sore that came with being fucked properly, thoroughly, like her body had been used and claimed until she couldn’t take any more.
She shifted under the sheets, the sticky, warm feeling of dried sweat and other nefarious things clung to her inner thighs, making her squirm. She buried her face in her hands with another muffled groan, her cheeks burned even as a tired, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.
God. She’d actually done it. She’d let a stranger ruin her in ways no other man had. But this wasn’t just any kind of stranger; it was Ken. The man who had lived only on her phone for weeks, whom she’d traded filthy messages with in the dark, whose face she hadn’t even seen until he was standing in her doorway. She let him in. She let him take her apart. Again and again.
She peeked out from behind her hands, blinking blearily at the faint afternoon light filtering through the curtains. She turned her head, expecting to see him next to her, maybe asleep. But the space beside her was empty, the sheets were cool where his body should have been.
A flicker of something uneasy crawled up her spine, but she forced it down, propping herself on one elbow. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, tapping the screen. 1:52 PM.
“Shit…” she murmured to herself, voice hoarse. Her throat felt raw—probably from all the begging and moaning she’d done yesterday and last night.
Ayla placed her phone back down with a small thud and ran her hands down her flushed face and tried to piece together just how they’d managed to fuck an entire day away. It felt almost unreal. Every time she thought they were done, that her body couldn’t possibly go another round, Ken would touch her, whisper something in her ear, and she’d melt all over again.
She sank back against the pillows and shifted her legs under the sheets. She could still feel him. The ghost of his delicious cock deep inside her, the heavy stretch, the way he’d held her wrists down and growled in her ear, telling her how good she was, how tight, how she was his.
Ayla squirmed and pressed her thighs tighter together as the memory of the last time they fucked before she passed out crossed her groggy mind. “Fuck…” she breathed out, swiping a few loose strands of her silky black hair from around her face.
She let her tired hazel eyes drift shut for another moment and just listened for any sign of him. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. No shower running. No clatter of dishes in the kitchen. No low chuckle echoed down the hall.
Panic began to set in. Did he just… leave? No note, no message, nothing? Her heart thumped uncomfortably at the thought. She knew this was supposed to be casual, a one-time slip, an indulgence of fantasy. But after everything they’d done, the way he’d looked at her, touched her, praised her, and used her. It felt too real for him to just… ghost her now.
She pushed herself upright, wincing as the sore muscles protested against her movements. She glanced around her bedroom, noting her tank top crumpled on the floor, her phone charger hanging half off the wall, and other things that were left out of place. Her mirror still had some streaks from when he’d pressed her up against it the night before, fucking her so hard she thought she’d crack the glass.
She laughed weakly into her palm, cheeks burning at the memory. “Jesus Christ, Ayla… what the fuck are you doing?”
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment, letting her head hang as she raked her fingers through her tangled hair. She needed a shower badly as the scent of sex on her skin wafted into her nostrils. But first, she needed to know where the hell he was.
Ayla tugged on the oversized shirt that had been left half-hung on the edge of her bed—one of her favorite comfort shirts with a print of one of her favorite animes, soft and worn, swallowing her perfect frame. It did little to hide the way she winced as she stood upright. Every step reminded her of him, of how he’d ruined her with that big cock of his. Her thighs brushed together and she let out a shaky little laugh, muttering under her breath, “Goddamn you, Ken…”
She padded barefoot out of her room and into the hallway, her walk unsteady, hips giving a faint, sore twinge every few steps. She pressed a palm to the wall for balance, teeth sinking into her lip as she peered down the short corridor toward her living room and kitchen.
Empty.
She turned her head, scanning the couch, the balcony door, and the kitchen counter. No sign of him. No note. No bag. No sound.
A pang of heat and humiliation twisted in her gut. Of course. He probably just dipped. Got what he wanted, blew her back out for an entire day, then left her like every filthy little fantasy turned cliché.
She crossed her arms under her chest, fuming as she leaned her hip against the counter. “Fucking asshole,” she hissed under her breath, her voice thick with bitter disappointment. “Seriously, Ayla. What did you expect this to be? You thought this was what… more? Tsk… so much for clearing my whole weekend for him.”
Her throat tightened, a mix of frustration and embarrassed laughter bubbling up as she pushed her hand through her hair. It all felt so stupid now. All the teasing, the hours spent sexting, the whispered promises, and the week building up into something bigger than it was. And now he was gone.
Then, the faint metallic click of the door lock turning snapped her out of her spiral. Ayla’s head whipped toward the entryway just in time to see the door swing open.
Ken stepped inside with that smug, familiar grin on his handsome, stubbled face. He wore the same shorts from yesterday, but now he paired them with a plain black tee that clung to his lean frame. In his hands were two small grocery bags, one dangling off his wrist, the other balanced on his hip as he pushed the door shut behind him.
“Ah, there you are. Finally awake, I see,” he said, his eyes raking over her in the same slow, heated way she’d gotten used to.
Ayla’s heart fluttered with a tight, breathless squeeze of relief and excitement she could hardly hide. Her mouth fell open for half a second before she snapped it shut, crossing her arms tighter around herself.
“You—” She swallowed hard, flustered. “You fucking asshole, I thought you dipped on me! I thought you just—” she gestured helplessly at the empty room behind her.
Ken chuckled low, setting the bags on the counter beside her. He leaned in, pressing a slow, unhurried kiss to her temple, his scruff grazing her soft skin. “Relax, sweetheart. I just ran out to grab a few things. I forgot to pack a toothbrush, heh. Didn’t think you’d be up before three o’clock, considering how I left you.”
Ayla’s cheeks burned hot as his words sank in, heat blooming low in her belly despite the frustrated puff of breath that left her lips. She looked down at the bags, some groceries, a bottle of orange juice, a box of pastries, and that toothbrush he’d talked about peeking out from the top. Stupid domestic things that made her chest tighten even more.
“Next time,” she muttered, her voice softer as she leaned just slightly into him, “leave a note or something, you creep.”
Ken’s hand slid around her hip, his thumb brushing the hem of her shirt as he grinned down at her. “Aw, you were that worried I packed up and left?” he teased. “You must really like me.”
Ayla scoffed, shaking her head, though she couldn’t stop the tiny smile that curled at the corner of her mouth. “Shut up,” she replied, voice low. But her pulse thumped with a rush of relief she couldn’t hide.
As Ken slightly pulled away, she couldn’t help but arch her brow as she looked past his shoulder, then back at the entryway. “I didn’t see your overnight bag where you left it yesterday,” she added, her voice suspicious, though the softness gave way. “You can see why I thought you just packed up and left.”
Ken just smirked, leaning his hip against the counter as he began to unpack the groceries. “Left it in your closet, sweetheart,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Couldn’t just leave it there.”
Ayla’s lush lips parted as she tried to remember. Her memory was a haze of sweat, slick skin, his voice in her ear, and a whole lot of details blurred at the edges. She slowly nodded and dragged one hand through her dark hair as she tried to piece it together. “Right… my closet…” she murmured. Then something clicked. She straightened, blinking hard at him.
“Wait. How the hell did you even get in? I don’t remember giving you a key.” Her pretty eyes narrowed, hazel irises flashing with mild indignation.
Ken lifted both hands in mock surrender, his grin positively wicked. “Heh, guilty,” he responded coolly. “Took the liberty. You were kinda busy… or did you forget you passed out on me?”
Ayla rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt, her hands bracing tight on her hips as she shook her head again. “Unbelievable. I barely even know you.”
The older man just laughed with that deep, low rumble that made her insides curl. He stepped forward once more, and his hand came down to cup her ass through the oversized shirt. He gave her a firm, possessive squeeze that made her breath hitch, then landed a sharp, playful smack that sent a soft yelp tumbling out of her mouth.
“Clearly enough to let me choke you with my cock,” he snapped back with a wide, knowing smirk. She glared at him, a deep red rising across her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words were stuck in her throat from the sheer embarrassment coursing through her.
“Go on, take a shower, princess. You reek of me,” Ken continued, leaning in, his voice lowering as his strong hand slipped under the hem of her shirt to brush her bare hip. “And you’re gonna reek of me more again later, so you better get clean while you can.”
Ayla sputtered, her cheeks and ears white hot as she shoved lightly at his chest. “You’re such a pervert.”
Ken chuckled, brushing a quick kiss to her cheek as he turned back to the bags. “Lunch will be ready by the time you’re out. Now get going, before I decide you look better right back in that bed, dirty or not.”
Ayla shook her head, fighting the little smile pulling at her lips as she backed away toward the hallway, her hips swaying with that still-sore, awkward little shuffle he’d given her. Her eyes were wide as she felt her pussy growing wet once more. She hated what this man was doing to her… but she also loved it.
Steam curled off Ayla’s damp skin as she stepped out of the shower, her head wrapped in a towel, her body tingling and fresh after scrubbing away the sticky remnants of yesterday. She stood at the mirror for a moment, her eyes drifting over her reflection. There were faint marks he’d left on her throat, chest, and thighs. A shiver ran down her spine as a gentle ache pulsed between her thighs like a heartbeat.
She padded back to her room, toweling her hair dry before slipping into something comfortable, but skimpy enough to feel a little dangerous. Soft cotton shorts that hugged her hips just right, and a cropped tank that showed the smooth curve of her belly and swell of her breasts. She saw how Ken looked at her when she wore something similar the day before, so she decided to wear it again.
When she wandered back into the kitchen, the smell hit her first—warm and savory. Ken stood at the stove, plates already set out on the island. Eggs, bacon, some toast, and a few cut-up avocados, she definitely didn’t remember buying.
“Wow,” she said, eyebrows raised as she slid onto the barstool. “So, the creep who breaks into my apartment and spanks me also cooks? You’re a Renaissance man, huh?”
Ken glanced over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face as he carried the last plate over and set it in front of her. “Only for you, sweetheart,” he replied warmly, though there was a teasing edge. He brushed a kiss to the top of her head, his hand lingering on her shoulder a beat longer than necessary.
Ayla let out an exasperated giggle as she picked up her fork and poked at her eggs. “Okay, I’ll give you this one. You’re surprising me more and more.”
Ken tilted his head to the side, curiously amused. “All good things, I hope?”
A small smile formed on her flushed face as she gave a subtle nod. “Yup.”
They ate mostly in comfortable silence, the soft clink of utensils and the occasional hum of Ken’s deep chuckle filling the kitchen. Every so often, Ayla’s eyes drifted to him, staring at the way his forearms flexed when he cut into his bacon, the relaxed but unmistakably dominant ease he had even now.
Halfway through, curiosity finally won out. She set her fork down and turned her head to him, brow arching. “So… I’ve been wondering,” she started, her voice teasing but laced with real interest. “Where exactly do you get all this money to just… throw at me, huh? You’re not secretly scamming old ladies out of their pensions, are you?”
Ken snorted, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Scamming old ladies? Cute. No, baby. I promise it’s all mine.” He paused, dark eyes flicking to meet hers, not giving much away. “Let’s just say I’m well-off enough that spoiling you doesn’t put a dent in anything important.”
Ayla narrowed her eyes playfully, but there was an inquisitive glint behind them. “So, what, do you have a trust fund? Secret mafia daddy? Are you gonna tell me or am I just supposed to keep guessing until I’m right?”
Ken only shrugged, with an amused smirk. “Let’s just say I make good investments. Been working for myself for a long time.” He leaned back in his chair, arms folded loosely across his chest as he gazed over her again, from her messy dark hair down to the way her shorts rode high on her thighs. “And you’re one of the better investments I’ve made.”
Ayla made a face, cheeks warm despite her scoff. “Ugh. That’s so gross. You can’t just say stuff like that with a straight face. I’m more than just an object, you know.”
He laughed. “I can, and I just did.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the inside of her knee, squeezing lightly. “But you’re no object to me, princess. You’re just a girl who deserves the world.”
Ayla sucked in a breath and clenched her thighs under the table as she rested a hand over his, her face a deep red as she processed his words. “Hmm, I hope I’m the only girl you’re spoiling.”
Ken squeezed harder, his hands sliding lower as he smoothly replied, “One and only.”
They finished up slowly, the last few bites eaten with playful little looks exchanged between them. Ayla licked a crumb of toast from her fingertip and shot him a look when he smirked at her mouth—that same knowing grin that said he was already thinking about using it again. She rolled her eyes, but her thighs pressed together under the table all the same.
When the plates were scraped clean, she shooed him away from the sink with a mock glare. “I’ll do it,” she said, nudging him with her hip. “You already cooked. I would be a horrible host, having my guest do everything. It’s the least I can do.”
Ken just hummed behind her, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed as he watched her rinse off the plates. She could feel his eyes on her—the slow way they dragged up her bare legs to the hem of her shorts, the lazy way they lingered on the soft curve of her back when she bent over to stack a dish.
She should’ve known better than to turn her back on him for too long.
Ayla squeaked when she felt him close in behind her, his big hands bracing on the edge of the sink on either side of her hips, caging her in. Her stomach fluttered when she felt the heat of his body press against her ass, his hard bulge grinding slow, deliberate circles against her through his shorts.
“Ohh… Ken…” she breathed, her voice low, half-scolding, half-wanting. She bit her bottom lip when he rutted against her again, the friction sending a ripple of heat straight down her thighs. “Mmm… you’re such a horny dog. I’m still sore, you ass.”
“Good,” he murmured roughly. “You’ll get used to it.”
He kissed her shoulder teasingly, then dropped to his knees so fast she didn’t even have time to twist around. She gasped when his fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, tugging them down past her hips in one swift motion.
“No panties, huh?” His tone was low, filthy, and pleased as her shorts pooled around her ankles. He spread her thighs apart with his hands, his broad palms warm and rough against her tender skin. “God, you naughty girl… you’re asking for it.”
“Ken—” Ayla’s protest died on her tongue when his mouth pressed between her plush cheeks, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that made her entire body jerk. She braced her wet hands on the counter, her breath catching as she felt his tongue drag through her slick folds, slow and heavy.
“Fuck—oh god…” she whimpered, her head falling forward as her mouth parted to let long, sultry moans escape from deep within her. His tongue felt too good, licking over her swollen pussy like he owned it. Like he hadn’t already spent the entire day before showing her exactly that.
Ken groaned against her, the low, hungry sound vibrating through her core as he licked deeper, his hands tightening around her thighs to keep her spread and helpless for him. His tongue flicked her clit, then circled it in slow, lazy spirals that made her knees tremble.
Ayla’s white painted nails scraped against the edge of the sink, her soft gasps echoing around the kitchen as she rocked back against his mouth instinctively. “Fuck—Ken—baby, hah… oh my god—”
He didn’t answer, didn’t let up, he just remained buried between her thighs, devouring her like a meal he couldn’t bear to leave unfinished. The faint clatter of dishes and the warm sunlight pouring through the window only made it feel more obscene. Her moans fueled Ken to eat her out more deeply, salaciously, not caring one bit that she was still tender.
And god, she didn’t care if her body was aching with soreness. Not with his tongue moving like that, pulling her open, making her needy and horny all over again for something she couldn't resist.
Ken groaned against her, the sound sending a fresh shiver up Ayla’s spine as he buried his face deeper. His hands spread her wide, and he pressed his thumbs gently into the soft curve of her ass, keeping her steady when her knees threatened to buckle.
His tongue moved with maddening purpose, giving her long, slow drags up her slick folds, then sharp flicks over her sensitive bud that made her hips twitch uncontrollably. He pulled back just enough to breathe out a rough, hungry laugh against her flushed skin.
“Fuck… you taste so sweet, baby. Can’t get enough of this pussy,” he rasped, giving her cheek a playful bite that made her squeak.
Ayla’s slender fingers curled tightly around the edge of the sink as her legs trembled. She gasped when he pushed his tongue lower, dipping inside her, fucking her with slow, deep strokes that made her thighs quiver.
“Oh—oh my… K-Ken… Hah… Ouuhhhh—hmmm—” she whimpered, her voice breaking on a moan that encouraged Ken to press on. Her head hung low as her tongue lazily lolled from her lips, her glazed hazel eyes fluttered as her toes curled against the cold tile. She rocked back to meet each thrust of his tongue, desperately trying to feel him go deeper into her needy pussy.
It was so filthy. The wet sounds of him lapping at her, the way his low groans vibrated straight to her core. Every flick, every swirl, every deep stroke of his tongue made her walls clench.
“Fuck—right there—don’t stop. Deeper, Ken… deeper,” she panted, her hips grinding helplessly back into his mouth, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. Her toes flexed and curled harder, while her thighs trembled with each wave of heat that rolled through her.
Ken’s growl turned rougher when he felt her tighten around his tongue. He grabbed her ass harder, fingers digging into her soft skin, holding her open and steady for him to devour her sweet nectar. His tongue worked her relentlessly now, thrusting deeper, then curling into her most sensitive spots, which caused her to gasp and moan louder while her desperate cries echoed off the apartment walls.
“Ken—fuck fuck fuck! Ouhhh… ah ah… uh uh uh… hmmm… yes!” Ayla uttered, her voice high and strained, her legs shuddered uncontrollably. Her knees nearly gave out when the heat inside her finally snapped, and pure pleasure crashed through her like a tidal wave.
She came with a sharp, helpless cry, and her hips jerked as her pussy pulsed around his tongue. He didn’t stop, however. He licked through every tremor, every gasp and ragged moan, his low, satisfied groan muffled by her creaming cunt.
Ayla fell forward, her dark hair falling around her face as she sucked in shaky breaths, her entire body humming from the aftershocks. She could barely stay standing; her bare feet jittered against the floor, and her legs twitched in strong, momentary waves as Ken pulled back, his mouth and chin glistening with her release.
“Good girl, he murmured, his voice thick with praise and satisfaction as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her thigh. “So fucking sweet for me. Could’ve had you for breakfast, princess.”
Ayla just whimpered, her legs shaking so badly she thought they might give out any second. But god, she didn’t care. Not when he made her feel like that. Not when he was still looking at her like she was the only thing in the world worth tasting.
He pulled back just enough to look up at her, his dark eyes gleaming with that wicked, hungry edge that made her knees weak all over again. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, then ran his tongue slowly over his lips, tasting every last bit of her.
Ayla looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with him. The way he stared at her like he utterly owned her made her stomach all tight and fluttery with excitement, and gratified.
Then—smack. His hand landed on her ass, a sharp, possessive swat that made her yelp and clutch the sink even tighter. “Eep!”
“Finish up here, baby,” he said with a low, commanding tone as he stood, towering over her again. He gave her hip a rough squeeze, his thumb brushing just under the curve of her cheek. “Then get your pretty ass back in bed. We've got another long day ahead of us.”
Ayla swallowed, her pretty eyes wide and dazed as she twisted to face him. She felt the rush of heat bloom between her thighs all over again, her skin flushed, her breath shaky. She nodded, small and obedient, her voice a whisper. “Y-yeah… okay.”
Ken smirked at her, brushing one more fleeting kiss to her temple before he turned and strolled off toward the bedroom as if he owned the place.
Ayla let out a soft laugh, her legs still weak as she forced herself to stand upright. She reached for the sponge; her hands were still damp from before, and she rushed to finish rinsing the last plate. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pussy still pulsing with every tiny movement.
She didn’t even bother to pull her shorts back up. They lay abandoned around her ankles where he’d left them. She just stepped out of them, naked from the waist down, cheeks burning and loins slick as she cleaned up the sink as quickly as she could.
Every second that ticked by sent a thrill through her. The thought of him waiting for her, sprawled out on her soiled bed, probably rock hard, was so damn arousing. She never felt so horny in her life.
As she wiped her hands dry, Ayla bit her lip around a nervously excited grin, then she turned on her heel, bending down to pick up her shorts before padding down the hall—her heart racing for what came next.
-
Ayla’s knees dug into the soft carpet as she settled between his spread thighs, the fuzzy surface warm against her bare skin. She’d shed the last of what little clothes she had on the second she entered the room, her silky black hair falling loose around her shoulders, messy strands across her pretty face. She tucked her feet under her and pressed her thighs together as she leaned in, her breath hot against his hard, thick cock.
Ken sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back just enough to get a perfect view of her in the tall closet mirror. From where he sat, he could see everything—the soft curve of her spine, the way her ass dipped into that pretty arch as she leaned forward, the dark tumble of her hair falling over her shoulders and back as she bobbed her head over his cock.
His hand was tangled in her locks, guiding her pace with slow, possessive tugs. He could feel her moans humming through him every time she pulled back to swirl her tongue around his swollen head before taking him deep again, wetter, sloppier, like she wanted to choke herself on it.
“Fuck, baby… look at you,” Ken rasped, his voice rough with hunger as his eyes flicked from the mirror to the top of her bowed head. He tugged her hair back just enough so he could watch her soft lips stretch around him, spit glistening at the corners of her mouth. “Such a good little slut.”
Ayla’s hazel eyes fluttered open, glassy and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes. Her cheeks were flushed, and her throat worked to swallow him deeper. He watched the muscles of her back shift in the reflection, the subtle flex of her shoulders as she braced her hands on his toned thighs for balance.
When she pulled back, a string of spit connected her lips to the tip of his throbbing cock. She moaned softly, letting his head rest heavy on her tongue, her breath coming in hot, shaky pants that fanned the base of his stomach.
“Augh… fuck… that’s it, princess… go deeper for me.”
Ken groaned, his hips giving a slow, controlled thrust that pushed him past her lips again, making her choke and whimper around his thick length. He nibbled on his bottom lip, watching the filthy, beautiful sight of her flushed and needy, naked on the floor, working him over like she was made for it.
“Shit… you’re gonna suck the soul outta me, baby,” he growled with an amused smirk, his hand tightening in her hair as he held her there, his cock buried deep in her mouth. “So fucking pretty… Fuuuuuck.”
Ayla let out another muffled moan, her toes curling into the carpet as she forced herself to hold his gaze, half-lidded, ruined, and loving every second of it.
Ken’s thighs trembled, his stomach becoming taut as he fought the urge to lose control and blow right into her perfect wet mouth. His breath came in ragged, heavy gasps that rolled into low growls that made her shiver. His cock pulsed against her tongue, thick and swollen, filling her mouth until drool spilled from the corners of her lips and dripped down her chin.
“Augh… Goddamn...” he rasped, his jaw clenching as he looked down at her. “You’re such a good fucking girl… My perfect little slut. Look at you…” His thumb brushed her damp cheek as his lips curled into a satisfied, hungry grin.
Ayla gagged softly when he pushed his cock into her a little deeper, her throat tightening around him. A guttural groan escaped his throat as he buried himself to the hilt, her soft lips grazing his base. Her pretty eyes watered, but she never broke his gaze; the slick mess only made her look more desperate, more needy. Her white painted nails dug into his thighs as she skillfully bobbed, pulling back just enough to suck hard on his leaking head before sliding down again.
Ken tightened his grip in her hair, but instead of holding her down, he tugged her back with a ragged grunt. Ayla gasped when his cock slipped from her lips, spit trailing down her chin as she blinked up at him, dazed and ruined.
“Fuck,” he panted, his chest heaving, “as much as I wanna empty my load down your throat, I need to feel your pussy instead.”
Before she could respond, he had her by the arms, picking her up effortlessly to her feet. Ayla let out a soft squeal, half-protest, half-thrill, her legs wobbling as he spun her around. His hands roamed her waist and hips greedily, feeling out her soft curves until he bent her forward over the edge of the bed.
Her cheek pressed into the sheets, her ass in the air, pussy wet and ready for him, her thighs slick, and her folds glistened in the light filtering through the blinds.
Ken’s breath deepened as he stood behind her, his cock heavy in his fist as he stroked himself and lined his tip against her entrance. “Goddamn, princess,” he muttered lowly. “You’re dripping for me.”
Ayla whimpered, her fingers clutching the sheets tight as she squirmed against the blunt press of his cockhead against her needy slit. “Hmm… Ken…” she purred, her voice shaky and pleading.
He smirked as he placed one hand against her back, the other still firmly on her hip, and pinned her into the mattress. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he growled. “I’m gonna stretch this tight little pussy until I make you feel me for days.”
Then he pushed.
His thick head spread her open slowly, deliciously, her wetness sucking him inch by inch until Ayla’s mouth parted to emit a sharp, breathless cry. Her body tensed, then melted, and her toes curled into the carpet as her walls clamped down around him.
“Fuuuck,” Ken groaned, his hips pressing flush against her ass. “Still so tight for me.”
Ayla’s eyes squeezed shut, her lashes wet as she moaned into the sheets, every nerve alight with the deep stretch inside her. “Ouuuhh… Ah—so deep,” she gasped, her nails clawing at the bed as he bottomed out, buried to the hilt.
Ken held still for a moment, savoring the way her pussy gripped him, then pulled back slowly, almost teasingly, before slamming back in with a sharp thrust that made her yelp. His pace picked up quickly, hips snapping against her ass with a heavy slap; the lewd sounds echoed through her room with each thrust.
Her body rocked forward with every push, her breasts were pressed into the mattress, her voice breaking into shameless, hungry moans. “Ken! Ah ah ah—uh uh uh! Hm! Fuck!”
He snarled low in his throat and pounded into her harder, each thrust making the bed creak under them. “That’s it, princess,” he grunted, his voice thick with lust. “Scream my name. Let your neighbors hear who’s wrecking this pussy.”
Ayla could barely think; her body shuddered against his rutting, and every sharp thrust pushed her closer to the edge. The sex was just as good as the night before, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to beg him to slow down or never to stop.
Ken’s hand cracked against her ass; the sharp, sudden smack made her jolt with a squeal that broke into a moan. The sting made her skin light on fire, and she turned her head just enough to glance back at him. Their eyes locked, her hazel orbs glassy and needy, and her lush, pink lips parted as more breathy moans escaped from her mouth. He looked on, a crooked grin stretching across his face as he saw how she was falling apart before him.
Her ankles crossed tight as he drove deeper, every thrust sinking deliciously to the hilt, his cock stretching her so full she could hardly breathe. The angle forced her open, legs twitching as her body rocked with every heavy slap of his hips against her ass.
“Yeah… that’s it, baby,” Ken growled, licking his lips. “So fucking desperate for it. You love this dick, don’t you?”
“Yes—fuck, yes!” Ayla cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets. Her voice cracked as he bottomed out again, the pressure hitting deep, right where she needed it. “I love it, I fucking love it—oh my god! Mhhhm!”
Ken’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her back onto him harder, forcing her to take every inch. “That’s right, you love this dick,” he rasped, leaning over, his breath hot against her ear. “Knew you were just waiting for someone like me to give you what you deserve. You’re mine now, princess. Say it.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, and her voice spilled out in broken gasps between thrusts. “Yours! I’m yours, Ken—fuck, I can’t—”
Her hot walls fluttered desperately around him, the heat in her belly coiling tighter with every thrust and filthy word that spilled from his lips.
“That’s it, Ayla,” Ken groaned, snapping his hips harder, spanking her again just to hear that sweet, shameless moan. “Cum on this cock. Make a mess for me, baby.”
The command broke her. Ayla’s back arched, her cry muffled in the sheets as her pussy clamped tight around him. Her whole body shook, trembling with the force of her orgasm, her thighs quivering, her ankles locked together as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.
Ken growled her name through clenched teeth, fucking her through it, relentless until her moans turned into whimpers and her body went limp against the mattress. He didn’t let up, holding her hips firmly, savoring the way she milked him, hot, tight, and dripping with her sweet cream.
When her voice finally broke into a shaky laugh, muffled into the sheets, she twisted her head enough to meet his eyes again, flushed and ruined, but smiling. “You’re… such an asshole,” she breathed out, half-choked, half-blissful.
Ken smirked, dragging his hand down her back, then giving her ass a possessive squeeze. “Yeah,” he murmured, pulling her tight against him. “But you fucking love it.”
Ayla let out a breathless laugh, rolling her eyes as he dragged her up the bed with him. The sheets bunched under her, her hair fanning out messily against the pillows as Ken loomed over her. He spread her thighs apart with ease, his cock sliding against her soaked folds before he pushed back inside.
She gasped, letting out a long, sultry moan as he bottomed out again, filling her so completely that her legs wrapped tight around his waist on instinct. “Ohhhh, fuck—Ken…” she whined, her head falling back, hazel eyes already glazed with lust.
His mouth crashed against hers, hot and messy; their tongues tangled as he drove into her faster, deeper, the bed frame rattling with each thrust. Their kiss turned sloppy, broken by her moans as she clawed at his back. Her nails dragged across his skin, leaving faint, burning trails as he buried himself again and again.
Ken groaned into her mouth, then dipped lower, his scruff grazing her soft skin as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. His hot breath spilled against her ear as he muttered, “Fuck, this pussy’s mine. You feel that? You’re fucking mine, Ayla.”
Her eyes rolled back, her body writhing beneath him, every thrust hitting so deep it made her toes curl. “Yes—yes, this pussy is yours! Ah! I can feel you in my stomach. Ha—ouhhhh!”
The wet slap of his heavy balls smacking against her ass filled the room, the rhythm unrelenting as his pace quickened. Ken’s jaw tightened, and his grunts became low and guttural as his body hovered above hers. She felt him swell inside her; his thrusts turning erratic as his climax approached rapidly, the pressure becoming unbearable.
With a sharp grunt, Ken slammed deep and held there; his cock twitched as he spilled his hot, heavy load inside her. His heavy balls contracted tight against her cheeks, pulse after pulse filling her to the brim until it overflowed.
Ayla’s nails dug deep into his back, her body arching against him as she shuddered, another wave of pleasure washing over her from the heat of him cumming inside her once more. Her moans melted into soft whimpers, while her legs trembled around his waist as he stayed buried, grinding into her as if he couldn’t let go.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. They just remained still, their heavy breaths tangling, their sweaty, sticky skin pressed together tightly, and her hazel eyes were half-lidded and dazed.
“Fuck…” Ken muttered hoarsely against her neck, giving her cheek a gentle kiss. “You got me addicted, sweetheart. Might need to stay the whole week for this.”
Ayla let out a weak laugh, still catching her breath, her fingers tracing the red marks she’d left on his back. “You talk too much,” she whispered, her voice shaky but warm.
-
Some time later, Ayla lay on her side, her face glowing in a soft light from her phone. The sheets were tangled around her waist, her bare shoulders exposed, and her skin still warm from the hours they’d spent on each other. Ken was behind her, his arm slung over her stomach as he pulled her close, his chest pressed against her back. He buried his face into her hair, breathing in her sweet scent with a quiet, satisfied groan.
She scrolled lazily through her camera roll, thumb flicking over photo after photo: some teasing mirror shots, staged angles, and a few teasing cosplays she kept tucked away for special posts. Her lips pursed in thought, wondering which one to post.
Ken’s voice rumbled low against her ear, warm and lazy. “So… are there any secret photos I haven’t seen yet? Something you’ve been holding back from me?”
Ayla rolled her glossy hazel eyes, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” she muttered, giving him a brief, bemused glance behind her shoulder.
He chuckled and nuzzled closer, his lips brushing her shoulder. “What? Just curious if you’re saving any more surprises for me.”
She snorted softly, shifting back to her phone and trying not to let her cheeks burn. “You’re a greedy man. I literally let you fuck me, and you still want more.”
“Damn right,” Ken responded, pressing a kiss into her dark curls. His hand slid lower, brushing over her stomach and teasing at the sheets as though ready to start trouble again. “You love the attention I give you. Don’t lie.”
Ayla bit her lip, hiding her grin as she scrolled past a particularly dirty mirror pic she’d never posted, one she’d only sent to him. Her thumb hovered, then quickly swiped past it before he could peek.
“Uh-huh,” Ken drawled, catching the flicker of hesitation. “That little skip was suspicious. What’d you just hide from me, princess?”
“Nothing you haven’t seen already, Ken,” she said quickly, laughing under her breath.
Ken’s hand tightened on her hip, pulling her snug against him as he growled playfully in her ear, “I’ll get it out of you eventually. You know I always do.”
-
Ayla took one last glance in the mirror, smoothing the front of her plaid dress before slipping on her shoes. She wore a simple brown plaid pinafore dress layered over a cream blouse with a rounded collar, paired with her clean white sneakers. Her silky black hair framed her face in soft waves, the faint shine of lip gloss finishing the look. She lingered a moment longer than she needed to, nerves twisting in her stomach, then finally opened the bedroom door.
Ken was waiting in the living room, leaning against the counter with one hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks. The fitted polo he wore hugged his toned frame just right, the fabric stretched across his chest and shoulders in a way that made it clear he didn’t wear anything cheap. He looked good, confident, relaxed, like he owned the space. And he definitely radiated that hot DILF aura she was attracted to. His dark eyes flicked up the second she appeared.
“Took you long enough, princess,” he teased, that cocky grin curling his mouth.
Ayla gave a soft roll of her eyes, her sneakers squeaking across the hardwood as she walked out. “I’m kinda limping around, thanks to you,” she muttered, her cheeks warming at the admission.
Ken chuckled lowly as his gaze swept down her figure. He let out a low whistle. “Mm. Worth the wait.”
She shifted, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder and trying not to fidget under his stare. “So?” she asked, lifting her chin, trying to act cool even as the heat crept into her face. “Do you like it?”
Ken pushed off the counter, closing the distance until his hands found her hips, pulling her close. “I don’t just like it,” he murmured, his voice rough at the edges. “I fucking love it. As stylish as ever, Ayla.”
Her blush deepened, her lips twitching despite herself. She swatted lightly on his arm as she moved toward the door. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though it lacked any sharpness.
He grinned wider. “And yet here you are, dressed up for little old me.”
Ayla exhaled, her hazel eyes narrowing as she tilted her head at him. “Still not sure what you’re up to with this whole… dinner thing,” she admitted. “I mean, you drag me out of bed, make me dress up, and now you want to wine and dine with me? What’s the catch?”
Ken’s smirk softened into something steadier. He walked back over to her and cupped her face, thumb brushing over her cheek. “No catch,” he said simply. “I just want to take you out. Treat my lady the way she deserves to be treated.”
Her heart skipped at that, the words slipping into her chest like a hook she hadn’t prepared for. She scoffed quickly, trying to hide the sudden warmth blooming under her skin. “Your lady, huh?”
“Mm-hm.” He nodded once, firm and certain, like there was nothing left to debate. “That’s what you are now, no?”
Ayla rolled her eyes again, but her lips curved into another smile. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I want to take things… slow?”
Ken leaned closer, brushing his nose lightly against her temple as he whispered, “Slow? A bit too late for that, isn’t it?”
She shook her head, flustered and grinning uncontrollably, caught between skepticism and the flutter of excitement in her chest she couldn’t deny. What is this man doing to me?
Dinner had been nice, nicer than expected. The restaurant was warm and low-lit, the kind of place Ayla usually only saw on her phone when her friends posted about anniversaries or big nights out. Ken, per usual, spoiled her, allowing her to get whatever she wanted, regardless of the price. She’d tried to argue at first, but he waved her off with that easy grin of his, ordering drinks and dessert on top of it all. It felt… strange. Comfortable, almost as if she sat across from him in the booth while they ate and talked.
Afterward, they wandered through the mall, not really looking for anything, just moving together with the flow of the evening crowds. Ayla’s sneakers squeaked faintly on the tile, and her dress brushed against her thighs with every step. She kept her arms close at her sides, but they still walked close enough that their hands would brush every so often. Every time it happened, her chest tightened, though she tried not to show it.
The third time it happened, Ken just reached down and laced his fingers through hers, holding her hand like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Ayla stiffened, glancing up at him in surprise. “Ken…” she whispered, unsure if she meant it was a protest.
He smirked down at her, calm as ever. “Relax. It’s just a hand.”
Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t pull away. His grip was steady, warm, and grounding in a way that made her head spin. She turned her eyes forward, cheeks searing hot. It had been a while since she’d been this intimate with someone.
She’d never thought she’d be here, walking hand in hand with him like some couple on a casual night out. Just weeks ago, he was only a faceless name on her screen, her shameless online perv that would shower her with generous tips. And now…
Her fingers squeezed his a little tighter before she could stop herself.
Ken noticed, of course. When she risked a glance at him, that cooked grin was already waiting for her.
Ayla huffed softly, rolling her eyes as a pink blush rose in her cheeks. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” she muttered, though her hand remained with his.
Ken chuckled proudly, raising and kissing the back of her hand gently. “Of course, I am. Who wouldn’t like spending this fine evening with a pretty lady like you?”
She just stared at him, unsure how to respond, though her heart couldn’t help but flutter in her chest. She gave a faint smile, accepting the compliment before shifting her attention elsewhere. “You really know how to make a girl blush,” she said quietly, leaning into him a bit more.
Ken just hummed warmly, guiding them through the crowd and onto the next destination so that he could spoil her rotten once more.
To be continued…
