Filthy Rejection

** Trigger Warning**

This collection is not safe.

Not for your morals. Not for your comfort.

Inside these pages, you'll find public degradation, corruption of innocence, voyeurism, cum worship, daddy kinks, strap-ons, virgin ruin, twisted love, and begging that sounds a lot like prayer.

There are no safe words here.

Only wrong men. Wet sheets. And women who stop pretending they want to be saved.

If you've ever said "just one more chapter" with a hand between your thighs

Welcome to Filthy Obsessions.

The elevator ride made her wetter.

Sariah had worn nothing under the trench coat except a red lace thong and a push-up bra that barely contained her tits. She'd sprayed perfume between her thighs, tied her hair up the way he liked.

She touched herself in the backseat of the Uber.

Twice.

First was a quick rub against her thigh while imagining his cock slamming into her over the desk. Second was full fingers down the front, pressing her clit hard through her panties until she bit her lip and tasted blood.

But she didn't finish.

Not yet.

She wanted him to finish her.

If he could still do it.

She was done waiting.

Six years married. Two since he made her scream. Now, she was walking into his office to remind him who the fuck he married.

When she walked in, Keon looked up from his desk. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, tie loose, hair messy. Fuck. He was still sexy. Just... useless in bed lately.

"Sariah?" he blinked. "Everything okay?"

She dropped the coat.

And his eyes went wide.

Her tits bounced slightly with the move, full and firm in the lace cups. Her nipples were already hard, nipples dark through the fabric. Below, her pussy shaved, wet, and barely covered by red strings soaked from the ride over. Her pussy peeked through the tiny triangle of her thong, soaked, creamy, glistening.

"Sariah, what"

"I missed being fucked," she said, walking toward him. "Thought I'd remind you what's waiting at home."

He stood, stunned. His cock was already growing in his pants.

She grabbed his tie, pulled him in, kissed him rough-tongue, spit, teeth. Then she dropped to her knees,

She unzipped him fast. His cock sprang out-already growing, half-hard in her fist.

Thick. Gorgeous. Half-hard.

"God, I missed this dick," she breathed. "So thick... so fucking good when it's hard."

He groaned. "You can't just"

"Shut up."

She licked up the side, slow, then wrapped her lips around the head, tasting his pre-cum on her tongue.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You're gonna make me cum already."

Her mouth bobbed on his cock, spit dripping down her chin. She took him deep, choking a little, eyes locked on his while her hand slipped between her thighs.

He grabbed her head. "Shit, that mouth"

She licked from the base up, slow, tongue dragging across every inch. Then she opened wide and took him in, lips sealing around his shaft with a dirty slurp.

Keon's head dropped back. "Shit, baby..."

She sucked him like she meant it. Mouth slick, throat relaxed. She pulled him deeper until he hit the back, until her spit dripped down her chin, until she had to grip the base just to keep from choking.

He grabbed her hair. His cock throbbed. "Goddamn-don't stop. That mouth... fuck-"

She didn't stop. Not until she felt it:

That shift.

That slow, dreaded loss of tension.

He twitched... then softened.

Mid-thrust. Mid-fucking moan, his dick wilted.

She froze.

Pulled off. Stared.