Emma was still dazed after the massive orgasm she had just experienced. She raised a hesitant hand to knock on the door of her room. Her fingers stopped inches from the wood, her gaze falling on her nails. The chipped polish was a reminder of what she just did. A wave of panic surged through her. If her nails bore the marks of her betrayal, what about the rest of her body?

She clumsily pulled out her phone from the pocket of her robe, with trembling haste, and switched to selfie video mode. The image that appeared confirmed her fears. With her flushed cheeks and disheveled red hair, she looked like a woman who had just survived a storm or worse.

A quick glance down the hallway allowed her to spot an abandoned housekeeping cart at the far end. Without thinking, she rushed toward it, her robe slipping slightly off her shoulders. She grabbed a bottle of water meant for the minibars and a white towel. After a furtive check to ensure no one was there, she unscrewed the cap and poured the cold water over her head. The icy liquid cascaded over her face, hair, and neck, washing away some of the sweat of her transgression. She rubs her head vigorously with the towel, taming her hair into a semblance of order. A second glance at her phone confirmed the improvement. Her wet hair gave the illusion of a recent shower, and her face, though still faintly flushed, looked almost innocent.

Almost.

She walked back to the door of her room and knocked, her heart pounding. The door opened within seconds, revealing Nathan, a flicker of concern in his brown eyes. He wasn’t panicked, but his furrowed brow betrayed mild worry.

“Where were you? I was starting to worry,” he said, his voice soft but edged with a hint of reproach.

Emma, caught off guard, felt her mind scramble. She hadn’t prepared an excuse, hadn’t anticipated this moment. The silence seemed like an eternity to her, but it lasted only a second. Then, trying to make her voice sound light, she replied, “Oh… uh… yeah, I was at the hotel spa. I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I thought I’d take a quick look.”

She stepped into the room, avoiding Nathan’s gaze. He closed the door.

“You could’ve told me…” he muttered, a trace of frustration in his tone and a pout forming on his lips.

But as Emma moved further into the room, and glided toward the canopied bed, her hips swaying subtly. Nathan felt a familiar warmth rising within him, dissolving any lingering reproach.

Emma felt Nathan’s presence behind her. He slid his arms under hers, his hands gently cupping her breasts through the white hotel robe. She felt the heat of his palms, which pressed softly against her curves, sending a shiver through her body.

“I want you so bad, everything’s forgiven,” he whispered in her ear before his lips brushed her neck, planting delicate kisses.

She turned around abruptly, her hands sliding around Nathan’s neck, her fingers tangling in his messy brown hair. Their lips met, first with hesitant tenderness, then with growing urgency. Emma, swept away by the fervor of her kiss, hadn’t grasped the weight of her act. Her lips, trembling under her lover’s gentle touch, still bore a faint trace of John, the salty, musky taste of his cock, laced with the sharp tang of his precum, a remnant of his brutal invasion of her mouth. Fortunately, that lingering hint had nearly faded, softened by time and the water she’d used to conceal her transgression. Despite the devastating orgasm she’d just experienced, Emma felt a new desire rising. That subtle imprint was enough to spark a shiver of shame, a guilty warmth stirring in her core. Each press of Nathan’s lips, each graze of his hands, made her blood pulse, as if her betrayal itself stoked her libido.

Nathan pulled away reluctantly, a smile lighting his face. “Hold on, I need to get ready,” he said, pulling a condom from his pocket. Emma settled onto the bed, leaning back on her elbows, her legs parting slightly. The robe fell open, revealing her black lace lingerie.

“Take off that panties while I get ready,” Nathan said, a hint of excitement in his voice, as he rolled the condom onto his already hard cock. Emma complied, sliding the panties down her legs. As she removed them, she saw John’s sticky cum, still warm, oozing from her core, forming a viscous thread between the lace and her flesh. Her face paled for a moment, panic surging through her. Nathan, busy with the condom, didn’t notice. With a quick motion, she balled up the panties and tossed them across the room, hiding the damning evidence of her betrayal. Then, her mind racing, she shifted to all fours on the bed, turning her head toward Nathan with a coy smile.

“I want you to take me from behind,” she murmured, her voice laced with boldness. Nathan raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face.

“Oh? Someone’s feeling very naughty tonight,” he said, oblivious to the fact that her suggestion was meant only to conceal the cum that would have betrayed her secret.

Without thinking, Nathan, standing at the edge of the bed, positioned himself behind her, his burning gaze fixed on her offered ass. He slid a finger toward her back entrance, easing it with slow, expert care, probing the sensitive flesh. Emma bit her lip, a shiver running through her. This hole, untouched by John, was the only one he hadn’t defiled. Soon, she felt Nathan’s tip press against her entrance, pushing gently, each millimeter stretching her tight ring. She took deep breaths, relaxing her muscles to ease his passage, her body adjusting to the gradual intrusion. Nathan, though less imposing than John, wasn’t small. His cock, slightly above average, slid in with a precision that drew moans of pleasure from her.

His steady, deep thrusts made her body hum, but the experience, while pleasurable, felt flat in comparison. Where John had swept her into a sensory storm, like a 4D blockbuster on an IMAX screen, Nathan’s rhythm was more like watching a movie on a TV. It was good, but lacking the same intensity.

Still, an orgasm began to build, fueled by the sensation of John’s cum slowly leaking from her pussy, trailing a hot line down her thigh. But before she could reach it, Nathan came, a muffled groan accompanying his climax. He collapsed onto the bed, spent, leaving Emma panting.

“That was so good!” Nathan exclaimed, a satisfied smile on his lips. “Did I get you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Emma lied, her breath short, her heart pounding. Nathan, a generous lover, always offered to finish her with his tongue when she didn’t climax. But with her sex still marked by John’s presence, that was unthinkable. The lie, though heavy, was her only way to avoid a devastating confrontation.

“Cool,” Nathan replied simply, closing his eyes, his breathing slowing. A few minutes later, he seemed to have drifted off, his body relaxed against the sheets. Emma, lying beside him, felt a consuming fire raging in her core.

~oOo~

At 2 a.m., the room was cloaked in an oppressive silence, broken only by Nathan’s deep, steady breathing as he slept beside Emma. Lying in the darkness, she had tried, five times, to quench the insatiable fire raging in her core. Her fingers, slipping on her body, had only stoked her arousal, each caress amplifying her desire exponentially, as if her body stubbornly denied her release, urging her elsewhere. Toward the room next door.

The thought of his proximity, mere meters away, sent her blood pulsing. Unable to bear it any longer, Emma rose quietly, her breath shallow, her heart pounding. She hadn’t bothered to change, still clad in her black lace lingerie, the white robe slipping over her shoulders, her panties left somewhere in the room. She grabbed her phone and the room’s magnetic key card, anticipating her return to avoid knocking. With trembling but hurried steps, she moved toward the door.

In moments, she stood in the hallway, the hotel’s cool air contrasting with the fever of her skin. Before John’s door, her mind pleaded with her to turn back, to return to Nathan, to flee this consuming urge. But her body, as if possessed by its own will, acted of its own accord. Her hand, quivering, rose, and her knuckles rapped softly three times against the polished wood. Emma, aware she had just crossed another threshold, held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

The silence of the hallway stretched. Emma tried to flee back to her room but her body, insatiable, refused to move. At last, the door opened, revealing John, his eyes heavy with sleep but a mocking smile across his face at the sight of the redhead.

“Come in,” he murmured, almost gentle.

She crossed the threshold. Without hesitation, she let the robe slip to the floor. With feline grace, she crawled onto the bed on all fours, her hips swaying with instinctive sensuality, an echo of her pose with Nathan earlier that night. But now, a single thought consumed her: to be fucked. Hard. Like the dirty whore she was becoming.

John approached the bed, with a smug smile, his eyes raking over every offered curve. He positioned himself behind her, his powerful hands gripping her ass. Emma felt his cock, already hard, brush the inside of her thigh, a jolt of electricity shooting through her. Her core was soaked. But, to her shock, John stepped back, circling the bed with nonchalance. He climbed onto it facing her. Emma stared, her green eyes showing confusion and desire.

Then suddenly, John’s apparent gentleness vanished. With a swift motion, he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back with a force that sparked a faint sting across her scalp. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he snapped, his voice cold.

Emma’s throat tightened.

“You think you get to decide anything?” he added, tightening his grip, pulling her red curls harder. She began to feel pain but did not dare to answer. He leaned in and whispered to her ear. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth.”

Emma paled.

"And you will swallow. Every. Last. Fucking Drop," he added.

At those words, John rose abruptly, his feet sinking into the mattress. His hand, still tangled in Emma’s red curls, yanked hard, forcing her to rise to her knees. Her face was now facing his hard cock. With his other hand, he guided it to her mouth with no gentleness. Pressing against her lips which parted with barely any resistance. Emma, overwhelmed, let him invade her mouth.

“That’s it,” he growled with arrogant satisfaction, as his hips edged forward slightly.

He felt her warm, wet flesh enveloping him. Horny, awakened by Emma, he was consumed by his own arousal. At that moment, only his mattered. His fingers tightened on her head, gripping her hair with relentless force before beginning to move her head, imposing his rhythm. Slow thrusts at first, careful not to go too deep, savoring the feel of her mouth engulfing him.

John looked down. His gaze fixed on the obscene sight of Emma’s pale, stretched lips wrapped around his big black cock. Each motion of her mouth, wet and warm, seemed dedicated to his pleasure. Emma, kneeling on the bed, surrendered completely, her lips molding to John’s thickness, her tongue grazing his tip with every withdrawal. The wet sounds of sucking and John’s groans filled the room. She was now active, willing. Her core was soaked with anticipation, but her pleasure was irrelevant to John. He relished every moment, every image of this white girl at his mercy.

“If only I could film you to show you what you look like right now,” John said, almost laughing, “but, I can't stop right now. I don’t want to.”

He fucked her mouth with growing intensity. Emma gagged twice, but John, unconcerned, pressed on, his hands firmly tangled in her hair. “I don’t think you’ll manage to deepthroat me in this position,” he growled with a smug grin. “It’s fine, I’ll save that for later.”

Emma’s delicate and (almost) innocent hands was now gripping John’s muscular hips. That drove his arousal wild and spurred him to be more brutal, more merciless. Drool poured from Emma’s lips, thick streams glistening on her chin, dripping onto her breasts. For several minutes, he continued, until a primal roar tore from his throat. Emma felt, for the first time, the hot, salty cum of John flood her palate. Unable to swallow, she let it spill, thick drops leaking from the corners of her lips. John, still clutching her hair, held her head in place, his final pulses throbbing against her tongue before he pulled out, stumbling off the bed, still reeling from the orgasm.

Panting, he glanced at Emma and froze, his jaw almost dropping at the sight. Kneeling on the bed, she let out muffled moans of pleasure, her head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth agape. Cum dripped from her lips, her tongue playing with his release. Her hand, in her panties, worked her clit, her fingers frantically circling on it.

John, without hesitation, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, starting a video to capture the obscene scene. He zoomed in on Emma’s face, her moans drowning in cum, her glistening lips, her expression of total surrender. His arousal flaring again, he placed his free hand, powerful and black, around her pale, exposed neck, squeezing firmly, just enough to assert his dominance without choking her.

Then, he leaned close to her ear, “Now you can come and swallow.”

Those words shattered Emma. A devastating orgasm tore through her, her body seems to convulse under the wave of pleasure. She swallowed all of John’s cum, the thick, salty taste overwhelming her senses, prolonging the ecstasy with her fingers. John, phone still filming, missed nothing, capturing every shudder, every drop, every choked cry, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Despite the orgasm he just had, John felt his cock harden again, harder than ever, at the perverse spectacle before him. Emma’s face, smeared with his glistening cum, her swollen, reddened lips, was an image of unforgettable obscenity. Her red curls, disheveled, clung to her cheeks. Her black lace lingerie barely clinging to her hips.

John, fully naked, his chiseled, dark body gleaming with sweat, seems to dominate her petite pale body. His massive cock standing, ready to claim more. He brought his face close to hers, his dark eyes burning with feral arousal.

“If you were trying to turn me on, you succeeded,” he growled, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna fuck you like the whore you are.”

He moved toward Emma’s discarded robe on the floor, dragging her behind him, his hand still clamped around her neck, forcing her to rise from the bed. He then strode to the door, yanking it open, and pulled Emma into the hallway, exposing her almost naked, cum covered body to the cool air. John moved with confidence, his hard cock brushing her ass with every step, reigniting an unquenchable flame in her core.

He slammed her face-first against the door of her own room, finally releasing her neck. The feel of his cock, hard and scorching, nestled between her ass cheeks, sent a shudder through Emma, her sex throbbing despite the fatigue.

“I’m gonna fuck you in your room,” he whispered in her ear.

“Nooooo,” she gasped with panic. “My boyfriend’s there.”

John, unfazed, rummaged through the robe for Emma’s key card.

“Then you better be quiet,” he said, sliding the card into the reader. A soft beep preceded the click of the lock, and the door swung open.

Without hesitation, he shoved Emma inside, nearly making her stumble. The door slammed shut behind them.

A sleepy murmur broke the silence. “Mnnniaan… Emma… is that you?” Nathan’s groggy voice echoed from the bed.

Emma froze in the darkness, her heart pounding a thousand beats a minute, her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t see John behind her, but the absence of sound suggested he’d stilled too.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “go back to sleep, my love.”

A heavy silence followed. Then, a faint snore rose, signaling Nathan had drifted back to sleep. At that moment, John’s powerful hand reclaimed her neck, squeezing firmly, just enough to avoid pain. Emma bit her lips, stifling a moan, her body vibrating under his grip.

John led Emma to the desk pressed against the wall opposite the bed where Nathan slept. He swiftly moved the office chair aside, the sound fortunately muffled by the plush carpet in the room. With a firm push, he bent her over. Her left cheek slammed against the cold surface while her gaze settled on the chair within arm’s reach, where Nathan’s jacket lay impeccably folded. This sight was a brutal reminder of her betrayal: a wave of perverse desire flooded her.

Emma felt John yanking her panties down to her ankles, then the heat of his massive, hard cock pressing against the entrance of her ass.

“No…” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible. “Not there…”

John leaned down, his hot breath grazing her ear. “My dick’s already slick from your mouth, so shut up and take it like a champ.”

He straightened up, his large black hands gripping her pale cheeks. One finger teased her tight hole, slightly softened by Nathan earlier. Emma bit her lip, wrestling with the sensations flooding her body. Then, he positioned his tip, easing it in with slowness. For the first time, Emma’s body resisted, clenched against this new intrusion, but that tightness only fueled John’s arousal. He pushed harder, gaining ground with each thrust.

“Fuck, stop, you’re too big…” Emma whispered.

“Shut it,” he growled, “or deal with the consequences if your boyfriend wakes up. I’m not stopping. Remember who you are now.”

Those words hit Emma like a slap. She was a slut. His slut. His white slut. And as he prepared to claim her final place, a raw truth settled in: she didn’t want him to stop. This transgression, this betrayal, being taken, no, dominated by this black man in her own bedroom, under the sleeping gaze of her fiancé, stirred a primal urge in her. Where the pain should have been unbearable, it was exquisite, her body surrendering to him, molding itself to his movements to take him deeper.

John was now three-quarters in, his thrusts slow but brutal, filling the room with ragged breaths and muffled slaps, barely drowned out by Nathan’s steady snores, while Emma was fighting to stifle her moans. If Nathan had opened his eyes at that moment, he would have seen a towering black man, naked, ravaging the willing ass of the woman he loved in a way he would never have dared.

Emma reached out, her fingers desperately grasping for Nathan’s jacket on the chair. Three times she missed, her body shuddered from John’s brutal thrusts, the savagery of his hips, his massive cock pounding into her ass with force. Watching her struggle, vulnerable and submissive, fueled John’s arousal.

Finally, Emma clutched the jacket, Nathan’s familiar scent flooding her senses as she buried her face in it, muffling her cries of pleasure and pain as John buried himself fully, his cock stretching her ass to its limit.

He paused for a moment.

Savoring the sensation, his ragged breaths contrasting with Emma’s labored gasps, struggling through the thick fabric of the jacket.

Then, his powerful hand seized her red hair, yanking her head back with brutality. He resumed his thrusts. Violent. Primal. His balls slapping loudly against her pale cheeks. Emma, her face still buried in the jacket, was now letting out muffled screams. John, fighting to stifle his growls, gave himself over to the savagery.

In mere minutes, the tension became unbearable. Emma’s orgasm hit her, violent and uncontrollable, as John unleashed, deep inside her, his low growl mingling with her choked cry of pleasure.

Half-conscious, she nearly collapsed on the desk, her erratic breathing blending with Nathan’s snores and John’s heavy panting. He pulled out, his cock still hard, and left the room without a word, the door clicking shut with little care.

“Mmm… Emma…” Nathan mumbled in his sleep.

“Sorry, my love,” she managed to say, still bent over, her face glistening with sweat and traces of cum, gasping between ragged breaths. “Go back to sleep.”

His snores resumed. Undisturbed.

----

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