NOVPUBBrenda didn't want to admit it—not even to herself—but she was starting to ride him on her own now.
Her hips moved, stuttering, clumsy at first, but slowly becoming steadier.
Ross let her move, his grip lightening slightly, not because she had won back control, but because she no longer needed to be guided.
Her nipples were red and swollen, glistening from Ross's mouth, and still achingly hard from his touch.
Her hair clung to her forehead and neck with sweat. Her eyes were half-closed, mouth slack, caught somewhere between shame and unbearable pleasure.
Ross tilted his head up slightly, brushing his lips along her collarbone, then whispering directly into her ear.
"That's it. Feel it. I know you've been dying to be fucked by a true man like me."
Brenda whimpered. Her hands dug into his chest harder, her fingers curling around the muscles of his torso like she needed something to hold on to before she fell completely.
From near the side of the bed, Colleen stared in disbelief.
Her heart was thudding in her chest, loud and chaotic, her body frozen in place.
She could see everything—every thrust, every tremble, every flicker of pleasure flickering across Brenda's face.
It felt like she shouldn't be watching, like she was intruding on something private, but she couldn't look away. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach.
Was this what Ross would make her do next?
And Thomas—he was wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape, his entire body tense with fury and helplessness.
He tried to move, tried to yell, but he was still bound by the invisible force.
His jaw clenched as he watched her mom Brenda—the girl who had been just as scared as Colleen moments ago—riding Ross like her body had never known anything else.
"No," he mouthed, chest heaving with fury. "No, no…"
Brenda didn't see them. Her world had shrunk to just Ross—his cock, his hands, his voice.
Her body rocked gently on top of him, the motion slick and steady now.
Her cunt had molded around him, squeezing with every downward thrust, pulling him in deeper.
Her breaths were erratic, little gasps that turned into soft, whimpering moans.
Her walls fluttered around him, growing wetter with each stroke.
She didn't know how long it had been. Minutes? Hours?
Time had lost meaning. Everything outside the ache and pleasure between her thighs felt distant, muffled.
Ross's cock throbbed inside her, and every time she came down on it, she felt more full than she ever had in her life.
He leaned back against the pillows, letting her do the work now, his eyes locked on hers.
His hands never left her body—one trailing along her spine, the other still toying with her nipple, tugging it with slow, merciless precision. 𝘯𝘰𝑣𝘱𝑢𝘣.𝑐𝑜𝑚
"You're perfect like this," Ross murmured. "Your body was made to ride me."
Brenda shivered.
She wanted to deny it.
Wanted to cry out, No, it wasn't. I'm not like this. I didn't want this.
But all that escaped her lips was a choked moan as another ripple of pleasure surged through her.
Her thighs tightened around his waist. Her nails scraped down his chest.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and her body moved faster, hips jerking forward, grinding, chasing the next wave.
And then—it hit.
Her orgasm came without warning, a violent tremble starting at her core and exploding outward.
Her head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry, her body locked in place as pleasure ripped through her like lightning.
Her pussy clenched around Ross's cock so tightly it almost hurt, spasming again and again as her climax took control.
She collapsed forward against his chest, panting, boneless, unable to lift herself again.
Ross simply smiled, brushing her hair back from her sweaty face.
"Good girl," he whispered.
Brenda didn't respond. She lay there, limp and shaking, lost in the aftermath of something she didn't understand—something she couldn't take back.
Colleen watched it all, her hands balled into trembling fists at her sides.
She knew, deep in her gut, that she was next.
And her hunch was confirmed the moment Ross looked at her.
Colleen didn't know him—not really. He was a stranger, a man whose name she did not even know, and yet… the way he stared at her made her feel utterly exposed.
As if he knew her—every fear, every secret, every hidden part of her she tried so hard to keep locked away. That look stripped her bare.
It was the kind of gaze that made her skin crawl and her throat tighten with dread.
Ross moved.
Colleen instinctively backed away. Her legs hit the edge of the bed, then further back to the wall behind her, leaving her nowhere to run.
He advanced with a slow, mischievous calm, stepping down from the mattress with ease, his body blocking the light, his shadow falling over her like a shroud.
He didn't stop until she was cornered—trapped between him and the wall, with Thomas mere inches away on the floor beside her.
Thomas, bound and frozen by that same invisible force, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter.
"Thomas, help!" she cried out, her voice cracking.
Her hand reached toward him, trembling, fingertips straining for his, desperate for the touch of someone familiar—someone who might protect her from this madness.
But her fingers hit resistance. Thin air—yet thick as glass.
An invisible barrier blocked her from making contact, a cruel wall that separated her from the only person who might understand what she was feeling.
Colleen gasped, jerking her hand back. Her chest heaved, her breath coming faster, harder.
"What is this? What's happening?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Then her eyes locked on Ross again.
"Please," she begged, her voice shaking. "Why are you doing this to us?"
Ross's expression twisted into something cold and triumphant. There was no mercy in his eyes, only grim satisfaction.
"It's simple, really," he said, his tone calm—too calm. "Your boyfriend here wanted to fuck my wife. He thought he could take what was mine, sneak around behind my back, ruin what I had."
