The fluorescent hum of the dorm room lights did little to warm the scene, but the heat radiating between us could've melted glaciers. His skin, rough with stubble and the faint sheen of sweat, pressed against my thighs as I moved. My blonde ponytail, streaked with rebellious strands of brunette, swayed with the rhythm, the ends brushing against the bare skin of my back.

He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through his body and into mine. My own breath hitched as I increased the tempo, the friction building, a delicious burn that spread through my core. I could feel the thick pulse of his cock beneath me, stretching me, filling me, demanding more.

My hands tightened on his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I lifted myself, balancing on the balls of my feet. The drop was exhilarating, the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I could feel him shudder beneath me, his hands gripping my hips, guiding, urging.

"Goddamn," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "You're..."

I cut him off with a kiss. The taste of him filled my senses. I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, dark with desire. A slow, wicked grin spread across my face.

"Just getting started," I whispered, before lowering myself again, the pleasure a sharp, exquisite wave that crashed over us both.

The creaking of the cheap, wooden chair became the soundtrack to our shared frenzy. Each squeak and groan punctuated the rhythm, a counterpoint to the wet, slick sounds of our bodies moving together. I leaned forward, my breath hot against his ear.

The pace intensified. I was riding him now, no longer just moving up and down, but rotating my hips, grinding against him, milking every last drop of pleasure.

He bucked beneath me, his hands now gripping my ass, pulling me down harder, faster. The chair groaned in protest, a symphony of cheap wood and straining weight.

"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice ragged.

I didn't let him finish. I increased the tempo, riding him with a frantic urgency, pushing him, pushing myself, until we both teetered on the precipice. The room exploded in a cacophony of sound – his cries, my sharp gasps, the frantic creaking of the chair, and the wet, slapping sounds of our bodies colliding.

30 minutes ago

The rhythmic clang of weights and the whir of the treadmill usually faded into white noise, a backdrop to my focused workout. I was lost in the burn of a heavy squat set, the familiar ache a welcome challenge. My hair, still damp, swayed with each rep.

Then, a shadow fell across my peripheral vision. I paused, racking the barbell, and turned to see him. He was leaning against a nearby machine, a smirk playing on his lips.

"So," he began, his voice cutting through the gym's ambient noise, "a barbell walks into a bar..." He launched into a cheesy joke, something about a protein shake and a punchline that landed with a thud. I rolled my eyes, a half-smile tugging at my lips.

"Not bad," I admitted, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my brow.

He straightened up, his eyes tracing the line of my body in my workout gear. "Though, I'll be honest," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "I wasn't really paying attention to the punchline. I couldn't keep my eyes off you. You're... incredibly hot."

A flicker of heat sparked in my stomach. I'd been aware of his eyes on me since I'd started my workout, a persistent, almost predatory gaze. But his directness was a different kind of thrill.

"Is that your best pick-up line?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, but the playful tone in my voice betrayed my amusement.

He shrugged, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "It's the truth. And sometimes," he said, taking a step closer, "the truth is all you need."

His hand coiled around my ponytail, yanking my head back with a sharp, brutal tug. The sudden shift in position sent a jolt of pain through my scalp, but the shock was quickly overshadowed by his mouth on my neck. His mouth latched onto me, teeth grazing my skin, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a stinging reminder.

He began to thrust upwards, a relentless, brutal rhythm that lifted me off my feet. Each surge was deep, forceful, pushing me higher, stretching me to my limits, the impact jarring my spine. The chair threatened to splinter beneath our combined weight.

"Wouldn't want to break the furniture," he growled, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest, before effortlessly lifting me, my slender frame no more than a featherweight in his grasp. My legs, reacting on instinct, wrapped around his waist, clinging to him as he carried me across the room.

The mattress dipped as he tossed me onto the bed, the sudden impact sending a jolt through my body. Before I could even register the change in position, he was on top of me, his weight pressing me into the soft surface. His eyes, burning with an animalistic intensity, locked onto mine.

20 minutes ago

My back pressed against the cool, unforgiving metal of a locker. His hands, rough and calloused, roamed over my body. First, they settled on my ass, the skin-tight green leggings doing little to conceal the firm, toned muscle beneath. He squeezed, a low growl escaped him.

"Goddamn," he breathed, his voice thick with lust, "you feel incredible."

I arched my back, a shiver running down my spine. "You're not so bad yourself," I retorted, my voice husky.

His hands moved upwards, tracing the curve of my waist, then settling on my breasts, cupped beneath the thin fabric of my black workout crop top. He squeezed, his thumbs brushing against my nipples, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"These," he murmured, his voice a soft snarl against my ear, "are driving me fucking crazy."

I leaned into him, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "Then do something about it," I whispered.

The soft mattress offered little resistance as he slammed into me, a hard, brutal thrust that went balls deep. A gasp escaped my lips, a mix of surprise and a raw, visceral pleasure that shot through me like lightning.

He held himself inside me, unmoving, savoring the moment. The weight of his body pressed down on me, the heat of his skin a brand against mine. The silence stretched, the air heavy with the promise of what was to come.

Then, the stillness shattered. He began to move, a flurry of thrusts that were as relentless as they were intoxicating. Each stroke was deep, powerful, pushing me further and further into the swirling vortex of pleasure. My body moved instinctively beneath him, meeting his rhythm, urging him on. The world narrowed, reduced to the feel of him inside me, the sound of our ragged breaths, the raw, animalistic intensity of the moment.

He pressed forward, the full weight of his upper body pinning me beneath him. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex. His mouth crashed down on mine, a hungry, possessive kiss that left me breathless. His hands, gripping my head, held me captive, ensuring I couldn't escape the intensity of his gaze.

The rhythm of his movements was relentless, each thrust a deep, powerful surge that sent waves of pleasure radiating through me. My hands reached around his back, gripping his ass. I pulled him closer, desperate for the friction, the heat, the raw, untamed connection that bound us together. The world dissolved, leaving only the feel of his body against mine, the taste of his mouth on mine, the primal rhythm of our shared desire.

10 minutes ago

The hum of the engine vibrated through the car, a low, throbbing rhythm that mirrored the pulse between my legs. The dashboard lights cast a dim, red glow, illuminating the scene like a cheap porno. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, knuckles white, the other tangled in my hair, pulling my head back, controlling the pace.

The taste of him, salty and raw, filled my mouth. I moved my head, taking him deeper, the slick warmth stretching me, filling me. His rumbles vibrated through the car.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice thick with lust, "you're so good."

I ignored him, focusing on the task at hand, the rhythmic pull and release, the feel of him throbbing against my tongue. His hand tightened in my hair, a silent command. The danger of the situation, the thrill of the forbidden, added an extra layer of excitement, a raw, animalistic edge to the pleasure. The world outside the car ceased to exist, replaced by the feel of him, the taste of him, the raw, unadulterated power he held over me.

The frantic pace of his thrusts slowed, morphing into deep, deliberate strokes that stretched me, filled me, and left me gasping for air. He was savoring the moment, prolonging the pleasure, drawing out the tension until it was a taut wire stretched to its breaking point.

Then, with a groan, a final, powerful thrust, I felt him shudder. A wave of heat pulsed through him, a thick, hot surge that filled me, overwhelmed me. He held himself inside me, his body trembling, his breath ragged against my ear. The raw, animalistic energy that had filled the room shifted, replaced by a heavy, sated silence.