Confessions

Mary’s phone lights the dark room. Christian stands in the doorway, jaw set, reading every word she just sent. He drops the phone on the sheets and steps close. For a moment nothing moves except their breathing. Then his hand slides around her throat and he pulls her into a slow, open-mouthed kiss that tastes like anger. Mary answers with her whole body, arching into him, already wet. He peels her nightgown down, palms her small tits, thumbs her tight nipples until she gasps. She sinks to her knees. He frees his cock. Mary takes it straight into her throat, eyes glassy, spit running down his shaft. She comes up for air, licks lower, sucks both of his balls into her mouth, rolling them with her tongue while her fist strokes him. The sounds are wet, filthy, unhurried. Christian pulls her up, spins her, bends her over the edge of the bed. He spreads her cheeks, spits on her hole, and drives in deep. Mary pushes back, taking every inch. He fucks her ass with long, steady strokes, hand clamped on her hip. Every time he slides out, she turns, mouth open, tongue waiting. He feeds his cock straight from her ass to her lips and she swallows him to the root, moaning around the taste. He works her that way—ass to mouth, again and again—until sweat slicks both their skin. She comes first, shaking, clenching around him. He grunts, thrusts deep, then pulls free and shoots hot ropes across her tongue. Mary keeps him in her mouth until he softens, swallowing every drop, eyes locked on his. When he finally slides out, she licks her lips, still breathing hard, both of them silent. Nothing settled, everything changed.