Fate sometimes has delightfully salacious ideas.

I had booked this little Berlin hotel room to give Nathan a romantic weekend getaway. He had dreamed of this vibrant city for so long. For me, it was the enticing chance to explore a new country.

Then your message arrived: "That's funny, I'm in Berlin too."
At first, I thought it was a joke. But when you revealed the name of your hotel, a chilling shiver ran down my spine. Nathan noticed my pale face and placed his hand on my thigh, warm and reassuring. "You okay, darling?"

I regained my composure, forcing a smile, and murmured that it was just a fleeting dizziness. Why did I answer so honestly when you asked for my room number? Deep down, I knew: part of me anticipated what you might dare.

I recognized you instantly, not just by your imposing silhouette of solid muscle, your dark brown hair cut short, your beard flecked with gray that enhanced your mature, confident look, but especially by that gaze loaded with raw desire that settled on me.

You smiled at me, that corner-of-the-mouth grin betraying your most intimate thoughts, while Nathan struggled with our door lock, oblivious to the electric tension. Your gaze slid over my body. It lingered first on my parted lips, perhaps imagining sliding something between them. Then it descended along my throat. It paused on the swell of my breasts, swollen under the thin. Finally, it traced the line of my hips, down to the hem of my skirt that rode up a bit too high, revealing the bare skin of my trembling thighs. By your side, Sarah accompanied you, her slender frame moving with a fluid grace forged by yoga and long bike rides, as you told me once. Her long, dirty blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a fine face behind glasses that gave her an intellectual and sensual air.

You were about to enter your room while Nathan was looking for the key to ours in his bag. He finally opened ours right after I heard your door close, and I stepped inside, my legs trembling.

The evening had unfolded gently, almost too quietly. Nathan and I were lying side by side, heads sharing the same pillow, our voices planning for tomorrow in the half-light. His fingers idly traced my arm, but he made no further move.

Then the first sigh slipped through. A soft sound, almost shy. A woman’s moan, low at first, then deeper, richer. Sarah. I knew it instantly. Nathan giggled, then I giggled too. And that little laugh was all it took for his mouth to finally find mine. The kiss began tender, then deepened, grew hungry.

His hand slid beneath my sweater, cupped my breast with exquisite slowness. Next door, Sarah’s moans got louder, filthier. She was spitting German words between gasps: « Ja… fester… tiefer… »

Desire overwhelmed me. Nathan must have sensed it, for his palm slid along my stomach, slipped beneath the damp lace of my panties, and caressed me with a tenderness bordering on cruelty. My body arched against him, my eyes half-closed, while the bed in the next room began to bang against the wall. At first slowly, then heavier, more insistent, in a regular, almost mechanical rhythm.

Nathan lifted my skirt in one fluid motion, eased my panties down my legs, left me bare beneath the flimsy fabric. He freed himself. Hot. Rigid. Pulsing. Then he slid into me in a single, languid thrust.

No foreplay. Didn’t need it. I was already gaping, drenched.

Next door, the pace quickened. Wood slammed against the wall, steady, powerful, almost violent. With every impact Sarah let out a higher, more desperate cry.

I closed my eyes.

I could see it crystal clear in my filthy mind: Sarah on all fours, forehead pressed to the wall, tits swinging, glasses askew, mouth wide open. You behind her, Max, your big rough hands digging into her narrow hips, your thick cock wrecking her, slapping against her ass with every violent thrust, her sex squirting down her thighs.

Nathan started matching your pace.
Every time you pounded her, he pounded me.
Every time Sarah screamed, my sex clenched around him.
But in my head, it wasn’t Nathan fucking me anymore. It was you.

I saw myself in Sarah’s place: on all fours, face crushed against the cold wall, your fingers bruising my hips, your big cock destroying me, stretching me till it hurt, till I drooled. I felt your weight pinning me, your sweat dripping down my back, your hot breath in my neck while you called me your dirty little whore, told me my body was made for you, that Nathan would never be enough. I could perfectly picture your satisfied smile at seeing me so completely at your mercy.

I bit my lip until I tasted blood so I wouldn’t scream your name.
Nathan came first with a long groan, his cock pulsing. I felt the orgasm graze me. Grazed me like a wave pulling back too soon, leaving me gasping.

Nathan, still panting, slid out of me and collapsed on his back beside me.
“I don’t think I got you there… want me to help you finish?” he murmured, voice soft.
“No, no, you did,” I lied in a breath, not even sure why, maybe just to spare his ego.
“Good,” he sighed, smiling, eyes closed.

I just noticed that the sounds next door had stopped as well.
And while Nathan’s slow, heavy breathing filled the room, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

« I’m waiting outside. »

I didn’t think. I slipped out of bed in nothing but the short nightie, bare feet on the cold floor, and closed the door behind me without a sound. The hallway was empty. And there you were. Bare-chested, wearing only a grey boxer stretched to breaking point, your cock already half-out, glistening, still swollen from what you’d just done to Sarah.

You stepped toward me without a word and you forced me down to my knees with one irresistible hand.
“I didn’t come inside her,” you rasped, “I was saving it all for you.”
And you shoved your thick cock straight in, still slick with her juices. With that same cock that had just brought Sarah to orgasm, and whose delicious taste now impregnated my palate.

I gagged, coughed, drooled instantly. Thick strands of spit poured over my chin, dripped onto my tits, soaked the thin fabric. Both your hands seized fistfuls of my red hair, yanked my head back, then rammed me forward. You started fucking my mouth like it was a fucktoy. Your manly moans of pleasure excited me to the highest degree.

The sound was filthy, echoing down the empty corridor. Your hairy balls slapped my chin with every thrust. Saliva ran in rivers, tears streamed, mascara bled down my cheeks in black streaks.
“Fuck, Emma… I’ve been dreaming of this throat all night… swallow me, whore… schluck bis zum letzten Tropfen…”
I was choking, throat burning, eyes watering, but my sex clenched hard with every insult, every violent thrust.

You sped up, feral, veins throbbing against my tongue.
And you exploded. At last. Hot, thick, salty ropes shot straight down my throat. You growled through clenched teeth, abs locked, hips pinned to my face as you flooded me until it overflowed.

Cum spilled over my chin, ran down my neck, soaked my nightie. You yanked out with a wet pop. I stayed there, mouth gaping, tongue lolling, full of you, gasping. You grabbed my hair, forced my eyes up to yours. Your gaze glittered with pure vice.

“Good night, Em. Swallow every drop before you go kiss your boyfriend, ok?”

You turned, boxer still down, cock swinging heavy and wet, and disappeared into your room. I knelt there a few seconds longer, throat on fire, sex dripping, tasting you and her at the same time. I swallowed slowly, feeling the thick load slide down while the rest kept trickling between my breasts.

Then I stood, wiped my chin with the back of my hand, and slipped back into my room like nothing had happened. Nathan was still asleep, peaceful. I curled against him, brushed a soft kiss on his cheek…

My hand then slowly moved towards my crotch, my mouth still full of you.

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