Jasmine didn't smell or taste like her name would suggest. To most people who aren't virgins, this probably isn't news, and I'm not sure why I expected her to do so. But I did. And she doesn't. Her scent is… indefinable, delicate yet strong, and I'm rapidly becoming addicted to the pussy juices that coat my chin, nose, cheeks, everywhere.

That's not all. At her insistence, my senses are also overwhelmed by the delicious, dark musk of her bottom. She pulls the back of my neck forward and moans, each dirty lick reigniting her need. I'm beginning to get the impression she's insatiable, already two orgasms in—both while grinding on my face—and now chasing a third.

All this unbridled horniness is wrapped in a package that most consider plain. Boring and unremarkable to many eyes, but not mine.

From the first day I saw her on campus, I was captivated. It was the way she carried herself. The way she flicked her hair over her shoulder when she laughed. Her grace. It spoke to me on some level; hinted at some inner power. Turns out, the Bohemian, conservative clothing masked a hellcat I never imagined I'd have the opportunity to unearth.

In the pub earlier, my bold and brash best friend dared to claim she was NPC: a non-player character. A bit-part in a video game. Usually he's bang on the money with his analysis of the opposite sex, on account of having had more than his fair share. But on this occasion, he's wrong. Very wrong.

Of course, Simon being Simon, can't bear the thought of being disproven, so he's taken to shagging Jasmine's housemate—one floor below us—as if the world’s ending.

I try to block out thoughts of his pasty arse bucking against the darker tint of Bree’s skin, but it's impossible: I've heard quieter pipe organs. He's calling her filthy names and she's rhythmically wailing like a wounded dolphin with every slap of their flesh.

Burying my tongue in Jasmine's tight bum helps. Her sighs escalate and temporarily drown out some of the homemade porn film below, as she strokes the nape of my neck beneath its mop of taupe hair. Her sparse thatch houses my nose, cum and saliva, and she occasionally lets me gasp in fresh air. Not that I mind: I can think of worse ways to die, like being mauled by a lion, or pumped full of seawater till I explode, or falling into an open lift shaft then having the lift descend on top of me.

As her moans fill the room and the action downstairs comes to a noisy conclusion, she tugs my head clear. Drags me up until our faces touch, and we kiss. A long, sensual, yet frenzied joining of lips as her natural scent drifts between us.

When the kiss ends, the expression she wears is unlike anything I could have dreamed. Brunette locks tumble either side of parted lips. Her cheeks are flushed. There's raw, wanton need radiating from every pore. She's blissed out. Beautiful. And somehow mine. For how long, I have no idea, but I'm not going to waste this delicious gift.

Her hand slithers down between us to grasp my cock. “I see you've recovered enough to fuck me.”

I nod dumbly as she swirls pre-cum over the head and squeezes. I'm on autopilot in her presence, cruising in the outside lane, top down, tunes blaring, destination Nirvana. Maybe this sex stuff isn't as hard as I'd feared.

Her breath draws tight as I swell in her grip. She bites her lip and jacks my shaft a handful of times. My eyes drift shut. “God, that's amazing. You're amazing.”

“Mmhmm. You've got a condom, right?”

Everything freezes.

The cold sweat instantly returns. The car I'm in swerves off the carriageway into a ditch and, like most Michael Bay movies, catches fire for no reason. Then explodes.

My eyes snap open and I don't even need to say anything to notice her flickering disappointment, and know I've blown it.

She lets out a sharp laugh. “Didn’t you say you were a Boy Scout? Be prepared and all that.”

“I. Uhh. Yeah. But safe sex didn't really come up as a topic at District HQ.”

“Clearly.”

“I'm so sorry. Is anywhere open nearby? I could run and get some.”

She screws her eyes and mouth up in thought. “Nah, it's late.”

“Bollocks.”

“Yeah.” She strokes my deflating member. “We could improvise.”

“Eh?”

Manoeuvring me onto my back, she swings her leg over and straddles my waist. Leans forward to place her warm palms on my chest and rocks her hips in my lap. Her pubes tickle then grind against my cock and she sighs as she sets up a rhythm, swiping her soaked slit along my length.

I respond, hardness rejuvenating while she rolls her hips against me and digs her nails in my chest, moaning.

Her hair cascades to brush my cheeks, hot breath preceding her whisper. “You could fuck my arse. No chance of pregnancy there.”

“Jesus.” My dick swells and she crushes it with her pussy lips, the mushroom tip nudging her clit.

She gasps. “Yeah, you like that idea, don't you? Taking my tight little arse with this gorgeous big dick.” Nipping my ear lobe, she adds, "Making me scream.”

The wetness between our genitals clicks in the quiet of the room, reflected off the apex ceiling with its weird dormer skylights. My pre-cum mixes with her arousal and she smears it up and down, back and forth, her breathing uneven alongside my ear.

A wave of doubt crashes over me. “How can my first time be… y'know, back there? That's not how it works. Won't it, like, ruin me?”

She laughs. “You'll get over it. The only person you'll be ruining is me. Lube’s under the bed, hang on a mo.”

Draping herself off the edge, she rummages underneath and produces a tube. She pops the cap with a practised flick, upends it and drizzles a healthy dollop of the cold gel onto the tip of my cock, then to her fingers which she massages behind her. She applies another small squirt to my dick and wanks to spread it. Although it's virtually frictionless—which I guess is the point—I still feel every ripple of her palm as it slithers up and down my stiff stalk.

A few strokes later, she nods, lifts her hips, places the tip at her rear entrance, and pauses. “Ready?”

“As I'll ever be.”

She tuts. “Did you not learn anything earlier?”

“Oh. Yeah. Assertive.” I clear my throat. Gaze up. “I'm gonna fuck your tight little arse, you horny s…” It still doesn't feel right, but her wide-eyed rapture spurs me on. “Hot little bitch.”

“Oh god, that's better.”

She eases down, the lube assisting the business end of my ramrod to stretch her tightest hole. We both gasp. I'm no stranger to masturbation so I know what it's like to squeeze and tease my dick, but the grip of her bottom is next level. I savour every beautiful millimetre through her altering micro expressions as she takes me deeper. I'm so pleased she’d sucked me off earlier or I'd have made Vesuvius seem like a pound shop firework.

A flicker of pleasure forms at the corners of her mouth. Her lips part fractionally. She captures her lower lip with her teeth. Sighs. Whispers, “Fuck you're big,” and carries on creeping south regardless, until the crown is almost swallowed.

There's momentary resistance. I didn't pass biology so I've no idea why, but she takes her time, gently rocking her hips until she pauses again, concentrates and lowers herself, eyelashes fluttering. There's a sort of gentle pop, drowned out by two involuntary moans and I'm in. Deep in a girl’s arse. Cherry lost in the most decadent manner.

We don't move. Just breathe. Hers shallower than mine. “Okay?”

I nod. It's about the only thing I have capacity to do. “My god that's incredible.”

“Isn't it just. More?”

I'm about to say if you like, when I stop myself. Catch her eyes, gleaming with a fierce intensity behind them. Placing my hands on her hips, I slither them up to cup her barely-there chest and squeeze. I know what she needs. “Take every inch of my cock in your tight arse, you filthy slut.”

The reaction makes me swell with pride. Maybe I’m learning after all. She lets out a sustained moan and drifts her hips lower. Lower, chanting, “Fhuck. Ffhhhuck. Fhhuuckk,” through gritted teeth. I squeeze her tits. Seek her nipples and pinch them. She hisses. Drops another few millimetres. Trails her fingertips across the scales of the fire-breathing dragon tattoo on her thigh to rest between her legs, dips them inside and slithers them up to circle her clit.

Her head tips back at the touch and she sinks the remainder of the way, impaling herself fully. “Fuck!”

I take a sharp breath. “Jesus, that's tight.”

Her expression sparkles with mischief and need. “Buckle up and enjoy the ride.”

She begins masturbating hard, grinding her hips against mine. The action causes my cock to slither out partway then disappear to the hilt and I'm not aware the gasps in the room are mine until hers meet them.

We both cry out as she lifts her hips and bounces, picking up speed, slamming me into her depths on every downstroke. White marks form where my fingertips dig into her tit flesh.

Remembering how she responded to the slapping earlier, I let go and issue a resounding spank to one breast. Jasmine shrieks, mouth agape. Drives her hips down to mine, “Yeah, fuck, treat me bad. Treat me like your little whore.”

Her masturbation intensifies, crushing her clit with insistent circles and I pull my hand free, crashing it into the same breast. Her squeal hits the roof and bounces back to me. Fuels me. I hit her again. Then the other breast, every so often massaging them firmly to soothe the stinging pinkness before launching another volley of harsh slaps.

Some sort of primal growl forms in her throat, which becomes breathless words. “Gonna cum… gonna cum. Fuck, don't stop, gonna cummm. Yes. Yes! YES!”

She slams down and freezes, mouth fully open as if she's about to breathe fire like her tattoo. Stillness folds around us, the way I expect the eye of a passing whirlwind would. One second. Two. Three. Four.

Then all hell breaks loose.

She rasps, brays even. Furiously masturbates and I lose control, hands gravitating to her hips and holding tight as my cock pulses in her rear, filling her. My groans join hers, no coordination, just a mess of noise and beautiful release.

Her orgasm seems to last longer than mine. The last few spurts empty inside her while she's still rocking and grinding and gasping. My erection doesn't fade. Not at first. I'm awash with sensations. Endorphins. Heat. Joy. There's nothing comparable. I lie there, basking and grinning up at the way her face describes what's going on inside her lithe body, until she opens her eyes and lowers her satisfied gaze to mine.

She plucks wet fingers free of her snatch. Wipes them on my lips and allows me to suck the digits clean before raking them through her mussed hair. “Fuck, that was intense.”

“Damn right. Thank you.”

She giggles. “You don't have to thank me. Sex is mutual.”

“Yeah, but… thank you.”

With a gentle wiggle of her hips, my softening cock slithers free and she moans. “God I never tire of that heat. So frigging sexy.”

I reach up to stroke her hair. Her cheek. She purrs and flops forward onto my chest and I haul the duvet over us as we hug in the cocoon, time a mere bystander.

Eventually she rolls off me. Lies alongside propped on one elbow and seeks out my slippery cock. Runs a fingertip up and down. It's sensitive but still good.

Whether spurred on by our lovemaking—no, fucking, because that's what it was—Bree’s soft moans rise through the floorboards. Every few moments they get louder, longer, and I presume Simon is chowing down on her pussy because he's mostly silent. Probably the quietest the motormouth has ever been in his life.

The occasional baritone murmur of encouragement filters up, and Bree’s excitement steps up a gear each time. I'm beginning to wonder if women universally like being mistreated during sex because she clearly yelps, then snorts, “Yeah, bite me. Bite my wet cunt,” and wails as he presumably obliges. I make a mental note to try it.

Between the noises downstairs and Jasmine’s lazy stroking, my cock begins to stir again. I know it's going to take a concerted effort before I'm hard enough to be of use to her, but the fact there’s still life left in it after the arse fucking is welcome news.

She coos too. “Ohh, yeah, you like listening in?”

“I do.”

“Do you think they got turned on by us?”

“Doubt it. You could have been a church mouse.”

She giggles and gives me a shove. “Shut up. I can't help it.”

I stroke her cheek. “So how long have you liked it… back there?”

“God, say it like it is. Anal sex. Ayyy-null.”

“Jasmine Hampton.” I level with her gaze. “How long have you been into filthy… ayyy-null?”

“Well, Travis Mason,” she mimics, “if we're being frank, I like to play with myself. A lot.”

“You don't say.”

“Hush, you. I have a few toys, including a butt plug. So I indulged a bit before,” she shivers, “before Chris introduced me to it.”

I say nothing. Just stare and swallow.

“Aww, don't be jealous.” She trails a fingertip from the base of my balls up to the ridge that’s still slick with lube. “A few boyfriends ago.”

“He's not Captain Chunderflaps is he?”

She giggles again. “No, after him.”

Bree’s moans intensify and my cock stirs further. Jasmine draws wiggly lines along its length.

“He used to get me on all fours, lube us both up, slide in and pound me while pulling my hair. I loved it.” She grabs hold of my reawakening dick and strokes it. “Shame he was a control freak. That's why I dumped him.”

I process that for a moment as Bree spills over and cries out that she's cumming.

“So you like it rough but don't like being controlled?”

“Mmhmm.” She strokes me. “It's difficult to explain. I love losing myself in the moment. Nothing but that connection. That energy.” Her hand wraps my shaft and she strokes it. “And right then, at that time, that moment, I love being told what to do or taken hard. Used. It's such a… fucking turn on to trust someone to give you pleasure. To push your body beyond where you think your limits lie.” She increases the speed of her wanking. “But outside the bedroom, I'm in control. Chris didn't respect that.”

I take a breath as she swirls sticky lube and remnants of cum around the head of my cock. It swells in her grip and I inhale.

“Jasmine.”

“Yes, Travis.”

Letting the breath out, I lock eyes with her. “I want you.”

She takes a breath. “Fuck. Have you any idea how sexy it is to hear that?”

Her reaction provides some kind of guidance. Courage. “I wanna pin you down like you did to me earlier and fuck you. Watch you fall apart.”

“God yes. With this big dick?”

She strokes it for emphasis and I nod. I'm sure she's just being kind, as I doubt I'm anything beyond average. “Totally. Maybe if you're really good, I'll tie your wrists to the headboard. Free my hands so I can spank your tits. Would you like that?”

“I would.” Her stroking speeds up and I groan. “Treat me like a proper slut.”

“I will.”

She tightens her grip and teases a fresh dollop of pre-cum to ooze from the tip, then sighs. “But you'll have to make do with my mouth tonight.”

I wince inside, probably the same way ChatGPT does when asked what a banana smells like. “I'm so sorry. Such an idiot. But I never figured in a million years I'd be here. Take that as a compliment. If I was Simon you'd be a foregone conclusion. He's probably…”

I pause.

“What is it?”

Thoughts form. Solidify. “Keep the bed warm for me.” I scramble from the covers, hunt for my undies and T-shirt and pull them on. Adopting possibly the worst Arnie impersonation ever—more like a Hungarian Yoda—I add, “I'll be back,” duck the roof and head for the stairs, clutching the wobbly banister as I descend one flight.

Composing myself, I cross the narrow hall and stop outside the room from which Bree’s soft giggles filter. Lift my hand and knock.

There's brief silence, then Bree calls out. “Who is it?”

“It's me, Travis. Listen, is… is Simon there?”

More stifled spluttering. “N.. no?” Two sets of barely suppressed laughter bleed under the door gap.

There's rustling. The thump of feet on the floor. More rustling. Footsteps.

The door opens and Simon's there in just his Union Jack underwear. It's comforting his six-pack is a few cans short of being fully formed. I'm in better shape.

Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Bree lounging in bed, naked, one hand under the covers, one holding the duvet up so it almost covers her huge rack. I swear I can see the top half of her deep brown areola but she doesn't seem to care.

Simon grins. “Dude! How's it hanging?”

“Great. Better than great.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” He nods at my face. “You've got cum on your lips.”

Instinctively I clap my hand to my mouth and wipe. It's dry. He laughs. “Waaahhh, had you worried.”

“Bastard.”

“You sly dog.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “Told ya!”

“Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always.”

“Of course I'm right. I know when a chick’s into me.” He turns to Bree. “Right?”

She retrieves her hand from under the duvet and waves, fingertips glistening in the overhead light, then immediately returns to playing with herself. The sheets gently rustle as she wriggles and occasionally sighs.

I stare and she blows me a kiss. Or maybe it's for him, but it feels like it's mine. Simon turns back to face me. “You here for tips? Sounds like you didn't need any.”

“No, I…” I colour at the realisation they must have been listening. “I've got a bit of a pickle.”

He drops his gaze to my underpants. “Stroke it. Or get her to. Best way to turn a pickle into a cucumber.”

“Give over. Not that sort of a pickle.”

“Thank fuck. No way I'm touching that.” He nods down at me as I shuffle to the other foot. “Come on, Travis, spit it out. I'm kinda in the middle of something here, y'know?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Bree chooses that moment to exhale deeply and I try to ignore the fact she’s all but openly masturbating. “It's just that, well, she and I want to, y’know, but I've kinda,” I lean in and whisper, “not got any Johnnies on me.”

Simon blinks. Stares like I'd asked him to recite the Klingon alphabet backwards. Then pisses himself laughing. Wipes his eye. “Who goes out for pussy without rubber?”

“I know, I know. Didn't really expect to get anywhere, so I'm unprepared.”

“Wait, I thought with all the noise, you two were…” he tails off. Then grins. “Oh you dirty bastard.”

He raises his hand, palm facing me and I half-heartedly meet his high five. He grabs my hand and pulls me into a sort of top-half, awkward bro-ski hug; an expression of kinship but neither of us comfortable with touching tips through our undies. “It's always the quiet ones innit. Fuck. Who knew she'd take it up the arse.”

“Hey!”

He turns to Bree. “Did you know?”

Her eyes open fully from their lidded fluttering. “She's mentioned it, yeah.”

“Du-uude.” He returns his attention to me. “So, no hemlock then?”

“Of course not.”

“That'll save the NHS money pumping you clean.”

I bristle and can't resist the temptation to show him that judging people from their appearance isn't on. “She wasn't even wearing any knickers at the pub.”

“Jesus. She's a dark horse. Have you checked under the bed?”

“What for?”

“Axe? Ice pick? Copy of Hannibal Lecter's autobiography?”

“Shut up.”

“I'm serious. You can't be too careful.”

“You told me to go for it earlier.”

“Yeah, that was before she went all Cardi B on ya.”

“I can't win.”

“Word of advice: if she starts getting bitey, get the fuck out.”

“I've got to get the fuck in yet... hang on, first a witch, now you think she's a vampire?”

He shrugs. “Can't be too careful round the undead.”

“That’s zombies, you plank.”

“Vampire… zombie… succubus, whatevs. Just watch your back.”

“I wi… thanks.”

“So…”

“So… I wondered if I could maybe, uhh, borrow a Johnny?”

He stares at me. Tuts. Then grins. “Fine.” Padding to the chair in the corner and rummaging through the pile of clothes, I take the opportunity to steal glances at Bree pleasuring herself. She catches my eye and I look away, but on next glance, she's still gazing at me. The hand clutching the duvet slackens and she lets it fall, revealing the expanse of her huge chest to my wide-eyed amazement. Then she tents her knees, the material between her legs still moving back and forth rhythmically as she plays beneath.

With a cheeky grin, she flicks the corner of the covers back. Her snatch is dark, completely bare, raspberry lips wet and open beneath the circling fingertips at her clit. My jaw drops and cock stiffens in my underpants. She flashes another smile before yanking the covers back in place just before Simon turns and struts back with his wallet.

He unclasps it, fishes inside and produces the little foil square. “Here ya go.”

“Life saver. Don't suppose you, umm, have two do you? Just in case.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fuxake.” Dips in again and pulls out a second, holding them out to me.

I reach for them and he yanks his hand back beyond my grasp. “That'll be three quid.”

“What?”

“Three quid. They're not cheap, y'know. That's what you'd pay for two from a vendy in the pub.”

I look down. Bare legs. Half an erection bulging my plain underpants. Blue Monday T-Shirt. “I haven't exactly got any cash on me. What about mates rates? Can I just owe you a pint or someth…”

He laughs and holds them up. “Fuck, you're gullible.”

Sheepishly, I reach for them and he yanks them away again. “You owe me a pint. And I want details next time we're out, okay? Dee. Tails.”

I nod and he hands them over. “Thank you so much.”

He waves the gesture away. “Another word of advice.” I raise my eyebrow, half turned. “Make her beg. Trust me.”

“Beg? She's not a Cocker Spaniel.” Simon just gives a reassuring nod and a wink. “I… fine, okay.”

“Good. Now go pound the pink, stud.”

He tosses his wallet over his shoulder to plonk on the bed, turns and kicks the door. The last image before it clicks shut is of him diving onto the bed, hauling the covers off Bree and showering her nakedness in kisses as she shrieks in laughter to the back of the wooden rectangle that separates us.

I take the stairs three at a time and only bash my head slightly on the ceiling before yanking off my clothes and slipping beneath the toasty covers to Jasmine, waiting. Like Bree, her fingers are inside her pussy and I grin. “Keeping warm, I see.” She nods. “Mission accomplished.” I brandish the twin foil sachets.

She arches her eyebrows. “Two?! Bit presumptuous.”

“Better late than never to be prepared, right? Got one as a backup.”

I could almost feel her eyes roll. “Dib dib dib. You know how to use them?”

“They showed us a video in our PSHE lesson. So in theory, yeah. But in practice…”

“It might take practice,” she finishes for me.

“Exactly.”

“Hence the spare.”

“Hence the spare.”

“That's actually kind of adorable.” She leans up and kisses me, her hand trailing down my body and making me shiver.

I cup her bum and she bats my hand away. Pulls up from the kiss. “Freezing!”

“Sorry.”

“Let me warm you up.”

She drops her lips to my chest. Nuzzles caresses across it, working her way to a nipple. Her tongue swirls and I groan. Longer when she sucks and grazes it with her teeth, then laps at it.

“Mmm.”

Her eyes meet mine. “Remember what I said earlier?”

“Is this a test? What if I get it wrong?”

Arching an eyebrow, she flutters her tongue over the other nipple. “It was about teeth.”

“Ohhh, right. You're not a vampire are you?”

She bares her fangs. “Guess you'll have to trust me.”

Her tongue is exquisite as she resumes. I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for what she's suggesting, and Simon's warning floats through my mind. But I did spank her boobs so maybe a bit of pain can be sexy. And I won't know till I try it. So…

“Jasmine?”

“Mmhmm.” She swabs my hardening nipple.

I take a breath. “Bite me.”

She gives a little chirp of excitement. Opens her mouth. Sucks my nipple hard then locks her teeth around it. Tightens. Tightens and I gasp as heat rockets through me.

“Jesus fuck.”

She lets go and licks to soothe the burning zone. Kisses her way to the other and takes her time lapping and sucking, until she introduces her teeth there too. I hiss as the sting hits. Arch against her mouth. She bites, then slackens and suckles to ease the contact point, a drawn-out moan escaping my lips.

“Ohh yesss. I like that.”

Popping my wet nipple free, she looks up. “You'll love these then.”

Fishing over the side of the bed again, she produces a chain with two clips attached either end. Drapes it over my chest and makes eye contact as she opens the jaws of one clamp. My eyes widen.

“Wow, you're full of surprises aren't you? You got the Lost Inca gold under there too?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing eh?” She snaps the clip a few times and grins.

“My mum warned me about girls like you.”

“Did she now?”

I pause. “Actually, no.”

She laughs and brings a clamp to my nipple, brushing it before positioning it dead centre. I tense as she gradually releases the clip and the pinch races through me. More intense than her teeth. More focused. It takes time to adjust to the sensation, and Jasmine lets me grow accustomed to it by nuzzling my stomach with kisses. She occasionally drifts to my cock and kisses the tip. It responds favourably.

When numbness begins to tingle from the pinch point through my chest, she attaches the other. Loops the chain around a fingertip and lifts. I gasp, she lets it slacken then tugs again.

“You like that?”

“It's… different.”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Just… different. Good, I think.”

“Good.”

She pulls the chain and one of the clamps pops free. With calm dexterity she reattaches it. “Tell me.” The chain forms a taut peak between my nipples and I inhale. “Are you a good boy?”

The pressure slackens a fraction. Enough for me to answer: “Undoubtedly.”

“Good enough to give me what I want?”

“Which is…?”

She walks fingertips down my abdomen and marches them over my firmness. “A hot.” Fingertips curl around it. “Hard.” She slides her hand up and down in a loose grip, gradually tightening as I swell. “Tasty.” The squeezing is accompanied by the nipple clamps rising again. “Cock inside me.”

I let out a gasp. My instinct is to say I'll do my best, but I'm learning. Simon's words swirl and I draw breath when she slackens the chain. I clench my teeth. “I'll make you… beg for every inch.”

Her shudder is accompanied by a low moan. “Yesss.” The motion of her dainty hand on my shaft has me fully erect, blood pulsing up the prominent veins that feed the engorged crown.

Jasmine lets go. Grabs a condom square and tears it open. Pinches the teat and rolls the length onto my prick before swinging her leg over me, gripping the base and aligning it with her silky entrance. The head nudges her folds and she starts to descend, until I snap my hands to her hips and hold her steady.

Our eyes meet and she squirms in my grip trying to lower herself. I shake my head. “You want this?”

She bites her lip. Nods.

“Then you better ask for it.”

“Fuck.” She tosses her hair back. Regains the lock on my gaze. “Give me your cock.”

I rock my hips, enter her a few millimetres more. Draw back, the rubbery tip gleaming with juices in the low light. “You can do better than that.”

Her breath stutters. “I want your cock, Travis. Give it to me. Hard.”

I slip my hands up her body and clutch at her tiny tits, using the leverage to hold her captive with just an inch of my shaft nestled in her slick pussy. The muscles in her thighs tense as she attempts to lower herself, but each time she tries, I tighten my hold.

“Beg for it, my little slut.”

I begin shallow thrusts. Very shallow, my cock exiting her body, only to be replaced with a filthy squelch as I glide maybe a quarter of it in and out.

Her lids flutter. “Ohhfuck. I want you fully inside. Fuck me, Travis. Please fuck me.”

“Better.” I allow her to drop another couple of inches, half my length enveloped in her incredible wetness. Her heat. Every fibre of me wants to plunge up into her fiery little snatch, but I somehow hold back. Hiss, then widen my eyes. “You can do better.” I squeeze her tits, pinch her nipples and she yelps. “I said: beg.”

The pause before she relents is electrifying. I never considered anticipation to be such a powerful tool. Never had the opportunity, but I’m learning fast. She exhales noisily, and half whispers, “Please. I need you. Pleassse. Fuck me. Take what you want. Fuck me like the desperate little whore I amahhh…”

She tails off as I give her another inch. Then another.

“I can't hear you, Jasmine. BEG!”

“Fuckfuckfuck.” She emlts  a half sob. “Give me everything. Pleeeasse.” Louder: “Please! Fuck me hard. I want every inch.” Louder still: “Please!”

I slam my hips up and pull her down by her tits to fully impale her sweet cunt, and she wails. My god she's tight. Wet. I swear it's only the sharp thread of pain as she flails for the nipple clamp chain that stops me from cumming. It rips through me and I gasp. Swat at her hips and dig my nails in, grinding our bodies. “Yeah, God. You want this?”

She nods absentmindedly. Chews her lip and rolls her hips. “Fuck me. Harder.”

Her hand snakes to her clit and rubs as I lift her frame and drop it back onto my rod. Then again.

Picking up pace, she mashes her clit and tips her head back, whimpering with pleasure. The soft clap of our bodies intensifies, accompanied by deeper sighs from us both as the wet, organic timbre of sex fills the space in between.

Our breathing patterns become synchronised, then break down as we near climax. Her mouth falls open and goosebumps form under my fingertips as she spills over, rasping that she’s cumming. I lose control. Bury my length as far as I can, clutching her body to mine, pulsing inside the sheath and groaning with each spurt.

The release is incredible. I barely notice she still has hold of the chain with her free hand. The only reason it registers at all is because the clips spring free and my yell of pain transfers to her hot depths through my arching hips.

She cries out again, her pussy walls gripping and releasing me in a steady beat. Heat tears from there to my nipples and I swear they're glowing as she swirls her hips, taking me in a deep-then-shallow rhythm until our orgasms gradually fade and I slump against the mattress.

Jasmine breathes out and settles onto my chest, whispering, “Fuck that was incredible.”

I stroke her locks. “It was. God. Thank you.”

She giggles. “What did I tell you about it being mutual?”

“Yeah, I know. It's just that… wow.”

“Helluva first ride, huh?”

There's applause from nearby and we both snap our attention to its source.

Simon, of course, stands a few steps below the floor level so just his top half is visible. Bree is peeping out from behind him, arms around his waist.

I scrabble for the duvet to yoink it over us, and he grins. “Bit late for that, mate.”

The brain fog that still drifts in the wake of release doesn't let me decide if I'm mortified at the loss of my cherry being observed, or thrilled that it did.

“Fuck off, Simon. Whaddya want?”

“Well you were making such a racket.”

“You're a fine one to talk. Both of you. Let's seeee. How did it go?” I feign falsetto, “Mmm oh yeah. Bite me. Bite my wet cunt.”

Bree shifts a little and flashes a coy smile. “What can I say? Your boy licks pussy like a champ.”

She snakes a hand up his front and twists his head to one side, meeting it with a sloppy kiss.

“Fuxake. Get a room will ya.”

When Bree releases his lips, he wipes them and grins. “We did, but this one sounded just as much fun.”

“Okay, fine, you’ve had your jollies. Can you, like, knob off now?”

He feigns mock hurt. “That’s no way to treat someone who loans you Johnnies.”

I exhale. “Is that what this is about? You want ‘em back?”

“Pfft. No refunds. I know where that one's been.”

“Not this one, you fucking plum. The spare.”

He waves the gesture away as Bree licks and nibbles his ear.

“Nah you're good, mate. My gift to a friend in need.”

“Okay. Thanks. So...”

He doesn't move. Bree continues to lap and nip his ear, and as she gets more into it, I swear I catch a glimpse of sideboob. I can barely believe she's still naked, but it makes sense after her exhibition earlier. She nudges him.

“So, yeah.” He issues a cheeky grin. “One good turn deserves another and it's freezing out here. Any space for two more in there?”