Handjob

Trapped in a haunted library escape room, I’m paired with a random girl named "Sarah"—dark hair, wicked smirk, a total flirt. What starts as puzzle-solving spirals into insanity when we cram into a hidden compartment, her ass grinding against me. With our group shouting clues inches away, her fingers unzip me, my hands plays her, and we ignite—frantic, soaked in sweat, jerking off each other. One wrong move, and we’re exposed. We pleasure in silence, all those little moans, controlling ourselves before they saw us. It was a total experience in escape room and I've been craving to fill her holes.@#exhibitionism @#thriller @#orgasm control

I’m at her place, huge dining table, her parents serving chicken. She’s in her 20s, sweet as fuck—blouse, mini skirt barely covering her pussy, ponytail. But she’s got my dick in her hand under the tablecloth, stroking hard, fingers wet with spit. Table’s massive, hiding her filthy work. “Don’t make a fucking sound,” she whispers, her breath hot. Her parents yammer, clueless, while she jerks me, nails on my balls. I cum like a fucking hose, soaking her hand, some hitting her thigh. I bite my lip, shaking as she milks me dry. They clear plates, head to the kitchen—dishes clanging. She licks her cum-soaked fingers like ice cream, slow and nasty. “Fuck, your cum’s good,” she purrs, eyes burning. “Under the table,” she orders, skirt up, no panties, pussy dripping. I dive under, tongue on her clit, sucking hard. She tastes like pure fuck. “Eat my cunt,” she hisses, yanking my hair. I slam three fingers in, her pussy tight, gushing. She moans, too loud. “Honey, is everything alright?” her mom calls. She pulls my chair closer, legs locking my head. “Yeah! Just loving this dessert, mom,” she says, quivering. “Where is he?” “Bathroom break,” she lies, legs tightening. The scare makes me feral—nearly biting her clit, fingers pounding her cunt. She cums hard, pussy pulsing, soaking my face, napkin muffling her scream. I crawl out, face wet, dick hard. She’s flushed, smiling sweet. “You’re fucking trouble,” I whisper. “Wait till I suck your cock tomorrow,” she says, voice filthy. Her mom yells, “Pie okay?” “Fucking perfect,” she replies, like she didn’t just squirt while they washed dishes. @#exhibitionism @#submission @#erotic massage @#seduction

The knock on the door came just as I was stretching out on the bed, tired from a long day. Room service, I thought, expecting a boring tray of food. But when she walked in, cart in hand, something about her made my pulse jump. She was all smiles and neat uniform, acting like she was just here to do her job. She started around the room, straightening the sheets, wiping surfaces, and pretending not to look at me. I tried to ignore her, but I couldn’t. My eyes kept catching hers, and I swear she was teasing me, just a little, while she worked. Every time she bent over to grab something, her skirt slips up, giving me quick glimpses of her ass. Then she came over to the bed, brushing past me with that slow, calculated touch that made my stomach twist. Her hand rested on my thigh, and I felt it tense under her palm. She leaned in a little closer, voice soft, “Let me help you relax.” I didn’t need her to tell me twice. My hands fell to the sheets as hers went to work, sliding inside my shorts. She wrapped her fingers around my dick, stroking slow at first, teasing me while she leaned against the bed frame. I tilted my head back, letting out a low groan. The way she looked at me, biting her lip, made it impossible to stop her. She jerked me off harder, thumb brushing over the tip, spreading the precum leaking out, and I could feel myself getting lost. Every stroke sent jolts through my body, my hips pushing into her grip, fucking her hand without thinking. She whispered, just barely audible, about how hard I was, how much she wanted me to cum. It got messier, dirtier. She pumped me with rhythm, faster now, and I could feel every nerve in my body tighten. When I finally lost it, my body shook, sheets wrinkled and hands gripping the blanket. She kept going, making sure every drop spilled, smirking like she owned the moment. Afterwards, she casually wiped her hand on her rag, smiling like nothing had happened. “Special service,” she whispered, and went back to straightening the bed like it was all normal. And as she walked to the door, I couldn’t stop thinking about the next knock, wondering if she’d bring that same naughty, teasing grin back again.

I wasn’t even thinking about her like that at first. We were just hanging out in my room after work. She had her legs tucked under her on my bed, scrolling through her phone while we talked about nothing. I was leaning back against the headboard, pretending to pay attention, but my eyes kept dropping to the curve of her chest under her loose shirt. She caught me looking once. She didn’t say anything, just gave me this small smile before looking back at her phone. That smile got stuck in my head. After a while, she tossed her phone aside and lay down next to me. Close. I could feel the warmth from her body. She stretched her arms over her head and her shirt rode up a little. My hand moved before I could think, resting on her waist. She didn’t pull away. I slid my hand slowly from her waist up to her chest, feeling her breathe faster. Her eyes met mine, and I swear it felt like we’d been waiting for this without knowing it. I leaned in, kissed her soft at first, then deeper. She made this quiet sound in her throat that went straight to my head. I grabbed her breast. She pressed against me, her hand moving down to my lap. I was already hard, and when she wrapped her fingers around me over my pants, I almost lost it. She pulled back from the kiss, looking at me like she was in control now. She slipped her hand inside my pants, fingers closing around my dick. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. She started stroking me slow, teasing. I reached for her shirt, tugged it up until her tits were exposed. I bent down and took one in my mouth, sucking gently, feeling her gasp. Her hand kept moving on me, faster now with a firm grip. I switched to the other breast, my tongue circling her nipple while my other hand cupped the first. She was breathing hard. It felt messy, warm, perfect. Every time I sucked harder, her strokes got faster. I could feel her smiling against my hair, like she liked having me there, taking what I wanted while she gave it back in her own way. When I finally pulled back, her lips were red, her eyes half-lidded. She still had her hand on me, lazy strokes now. She whispered, almost like a tease, that this was just a taste and there is more after this. @No additions @Tit Focus @Sensual kissing

Female POV. I don't know how to even put this without sounding completely crazy, but… it actually did happen. And I really can't shake it out of my head. It was quite late. I was just lounging in our dorm room alone. My guy roommate, my friend, said he'd be late. He had some party or something. I didn't push him. I just said, "Okay, cool," and stayed there. I wasn't doing anything naughty at first, I swear. I was just lying in bed in an old t-shirt, no shorts, nothin', just trying to sleep. Then I took one of my pillows and stuck it between my legs, just holding it there like that. I do it all the time. It relaxes me. But for some reason, that night just did feel different. I shifted my hips slightly. Then did it again. And before I knew it, I was sort of grinding into the pillow. Little, little movements. I wasn't even thinking. My body just. went for it. It was great. Much better than I imagined it would be. I bit my lip and just kept going. My breathing became really labored. My thighs were tight. I was really close. That's when I saw the door open. I thought I was dreaming at first. Then I glanced up—and there he was. Just standing there in the doorway, lugging the keys and the phone, and staring at me. I was completely shocked. I just froze. I couldn't even respond. The blanket had fallen from me. My top had been pulled up. My legs had straddled the pillow, and my hips still rolled into it. He didn't speak a word. He didn't even glance away. He simply stood there… looking at me. And the irony? I still didn't stop. I slowed down slightly, but I just kept moving. My body was almost there already. My face was all red, my heart was racing, but it was like I just couldn't help it. I buried my face in the pillow and let it all occur. I came like that—with him still present. So he finally got up. Just walked across to his side of the room, picked something up from his desk, then left again. He didn't say a word. And the following day? Normal. As if nothing occurred. But I could sense it… every time he glanced at me afterwards. Like he recalled each second.

I thought I had the apartment to myself. It had been a long, frustrating day. I needed release—something to clear my head. The hot water of the shower felt perfect against my skin, and before I knew it, my fingers wandered. Just a little touch. A little more. I leaned back against the tile, eyes shut, breathing heavy as I started to rub slow, deliberate circles. I didn’t hear the front door open. Didn’t hear the footsteps in the hallway. Didn’t realize he was home early. I was too deep in it. One leg propped up on the shower wall, my hips gently rocking, the water mixing with my own wetness. I moaned softly—just once—and that’s when I heard it. “...Seriously?” I froze. I turned my head and there he was—Jake, my roommate, standing just outside the steamed-up glass. His expression was somewhere between shocked and... intrigued. My heart jumped into my throat. “Shit—! I thought you were working late!” He didn’t respond right away. Just stared through the foggy glass. Then he opened the door a crack. "You need a hand with that?" I was speechless. My face burned, but I didn’t stop him. He stepped in fully clothed, not even bothering to close the bathroom door behind him. His eyes dropped to my hand, still between my legs. He didn’t touch me at first. Just watched, breathing heavier by the second. “I’ve wanted to see you like this,” he said under his breath. I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the heat, the embarrassment, the thrill of being caught—but I pulled him under the water, tugged at his shirt, and kissed him like I’d been waiting forever. He pinned me against the wall, water pouring down both of us, our bodies slick and needy. And when he slid inside me, I moaned louder than I meant to. I didn’t care anymore. Let the neighbors hear. I’d never felt so exposed… or so alive.