All Chapters of Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Everything had gone according to plan until it didn't.The wedding was flawless—my sister's dress was perfect, my brother-in-law seemed genuinely in love, and the reception had run smoothly. I'd given my maid of honor speech, made everyone laugh, took all the right pictures. I was the perfect sister.Then I took the wrong elevator.My name is Morgan, and I'm twenty-six years old. I'm the younger sister by four years, and I've spent my entire life being compared to Elena—who's more put-together, more successful, more everything.But tonight was about her, and I was genuinely happy to let her have the spotlight.I was heading to the bridal suite on the fourteenth floor when I realized mid-elevator that I'd left my phone in the penthouse where the groomsmen were celebrating. I got off at the thirteenth floor by mistake, and instead of turning around immediately, I decided to just walk up one flight of stairs.That's where I ran into James.He was my sister's best friend from college—the

His pace increased slightly, but still maintained control. He was fucking me deliberately, with purpose, not rushing toward his own release but maintaining intensity."Tell me what you are," he said."I'm yours," I gasped. "I'm completely yours.""That's right," he said. "And you're never going to forget this. You're never going to want anyone else after me."He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more possessive.I was right on the edge now, the tension becoming almost unbearable."Come," he commanded. "Come while I'm inside you. Let me feel your pussy squeeze my cock."I came hard, my entire body convulsing around him, my pussy clenching rhythmically around his shaft."Yes," he hissed. "Yes, that's it. I can feel you coming. God, you're so beautiful when you're coming."But he didn't stop. He continued fucking me through my orgasm, his pace relentless, his focus on prolonging the pleasure rather than achieving his own release.When my orgasm began to subside, he

The contract was very specific about what was included and what wasn't.Sex was included. Romance was not. Emotional attachment was explicitly forbidden. Communication after the agreed-upon time period was not permitted. And most importantly, discretion was paramount—if either party discussed this arrangement with anyone, the other could pursue legal action.I'd read it three times before signing.My name is Alexandra, and I'm thirty-two years old. I'm a venture capitalist, which means I'm used to negotiating deals, assessing risk, and making decisions based on logic rather than emotion.Which is exactly why I'd decided to turn my life into a business transaction.The man I was meeting was named David Chen. He was forty-one, divorced, and according to mutual acquaintances, was experiencing a drought in his dating life due to his demanding career as a corporate restructuring specialist. He was also, according to the pictures I'd seen, exceptionally attractive in an understated way.We'

His pace increased gradually, still controlled but becoming more aggressive.I was building toward another orgasm, the pleasure mounting with each deep thrust."Please," I gasped. "I need you to—""To what?" he asked. "To make you come? To make you feel? To make you forget about whoever hurt you?""All of the above," I gasped.His hand moved to grip one of my breasts, cupping it, his thumb brushing across my nipple. The sensation sent shivers through my entire body."Tell me what you are," he said."What?" I asked, confused."Tell me what you are," he repeated. "Are you the woman trying to separate sex from emotion? Or are you the woman who's currently climaxing around my cock?""Both," I gasped. "I'm both.""Then accept it," he said. His pace became more aggressive, his thrusts harder, deeper. "Accept that you can feel pleasure without it meaning something. Accept that your body can want someone without your heart needing to be involved."I was right on the edge now, the tension beco

I'd booked the entire beach for the night, which should have seemed excessive. Instead, it felt necessary.My name is Sophia, and I'm a successful documentary filmmaker. I'm thirty-five years old, and I've spent my entire life behind the camera, observing other people's stories instead of living my own.That changed when I met Gabriel.He was a marine biologist—brilliant, passionate, completely dedicated to his research on bioluminescent organisms in the ocean. We'd met when I was filming a documentary about ocean conservation, and the moment I saw him, I understood what people meant when they talked about being physically attracted to someone.He was tall, with bronze skin from years of sun exposure, dark hair, and an intensity in his eyes that suggested he saw the world in ways most people couldn't.The problem was that Gabriel was my consultant on the documentary. Professional boundaries existed for a reason, and I'd been maintaining them for six months, telling myself that what I