All Chapters of Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Marcus moved his hand between my legs and found my clit, stroking it slowly while Devon's hands moved across my back.The dual sensation—emotional touch on my back, sexual touch between my legs—created a feedback loop that had my whole body responding."Breathe," Devon said. "Stay with it. Let it build."I was building toward an orgasm, but slowly, the pace intentional and measured."Come," Marcus said softly. "We want to feel you come while we're both holding you."I came gently, my whole body trembling between them, their hands providing constant contact as my pleasure washed through me.When it subsided, they held me—Marcus in front, Devon behind—and I felt more cared for than I ever had."I want to taste you," Devon said after I'd recovered.I nodded, and he positioned himself between my legs.Marcus stayed beside me, his hand on my breast, his mouth finding mine as Devon's mouth found my pussy.The sensation of being kissed while being eaten out was intense, but Devon's pace was

I'd been avoiding him all week.That was the only strategy that made sense—see Marcus Wellington at a distance, nod professionally if absolutely required, and immediately find an exit. We were competitors, rivals, enemies in every business sense that mattered. Our firms had been locked in a bidding war for three months over the Kensington development deal, and I was not about to let him distract me with those gray eyes and that infuriating smirk.But avoiding him was becoming increasingly difficult, especially at the industry summit where we were both keynote speakers.I'd managed to skip his morning presentation by scheduling back-to-back investor meetings. I'd eaten lunch in my hotel suite instead of the conference center. I'd timed my evening arrival to the main ballroom for exactly 7:47 PM, calculating he'd already be seated at the opposite side of the room.I'd failed at the calculation.He was waiting for me by the bar, scotch in hand, looking at me like he'd been expecting me a

He groaned, a sound of pure pleasure, and began moving—long, deep strokes that had me gasping with each thrust. His pace was controlled at first, measured, building slowly. But as my arousal increased, as my body responded to his, he lost that control.His pace became faster, harder, more aggressive. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he fucked me with increasing intensity."You feel incredible," he breathed against my neck. "So tight. So perfect."I was close, so close, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity."Please," I gasped, abandoning my pride. "Please, I need—""I know what you need." His hand moved between us, finding my clit, and he began rubbing it while he continued fucking me.The dual sensation—his cock inside me, his fingers on my clit—sent me over the edge.I came hard, my entire body convulsing around him, my back arching off the bed. He continued moving, prolonging my orgasm, not stopping until I was oversensitive and pushing at his che

I was still mad at my mother.That was the primary emotion coursing through me as I hauled boxes up three flights of stairs in the late summer heat—not excitement about starting my junior year, not anticipation about seeing my friends again, just pure, unadulterated anger at my mother for marrying Derek.Don't get me wrong. Derek was fine. Derek was actually great—kind, successful, good to my mom. He owned a real estate development company, made probably triple what my mom made as a therapist, and had never once tried to be my "dad" or cross any of those complicated stepparent boundaries.The problem was that Derek had a son.One son. From his first marriage. Who was currently my roommate.My mother had thought it was a brilliant idea. "You two will be so great together!" she'd said, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of her new blended family bonding. "You'll be like actual siblings! Won't that be fun?"It would not be fun. It was the opposite of fun.My stepbrother—technically, I

"So," I said into the silence. "That happened.""That definitely happened." He turned to look at me, and his expression was serious. "Are you okay? Do you regret it?""Not even a little bit," I said. "Do you?""No." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "But we need to talk about what this means. What we're going to do about it.""My mother is going to kill us," I said, stating the obvious."Probably." He sat up, his back against the wall, completely unconcerned about his nudity. "But that's a problem for later. Right now, I need to know—was this just a one-time thing? Or do you actually want this?"I sat up too, pulling the thin dormitory blanket around me. "What do you want it to be?""I want it to be everything," he said simply. "I want it to be real. I want to do this again, and again, and I want to figure out how to make it work despite the fact that our parents are married.""That's insane," I said. "They'll never approve.""Probably not," he agreed. "But I'