Claire’s entire body was trembling before the couple even touched.....

The air in the private viewing lounge was thick, almost liquid with the scent of sex already seeping up from the playroom: hot skin, dripping pussy, the sharp metallic tang of arousal so strong it coated the back of her tongue. She could hear everything through the hidden speakers, every breath, every wet slide, every filthy word amplified until it vibrated inside her skull.

Then they appeared.

The girl was twenty-four and built like raw sin: sun-kissed skin gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat, heavy tits spilling out of a shredded mesh bralette, nipples dark and diamond-hard. A tiny silver chain dangled from her pierced navel down to the waistband of a black micro-thong that had already soaked clean through, clinging to swollen, shaved lips like a second skin. Her ass was a perfect heart-shaped peach, jiggling with every step.

The man behind her was a pure predator. Shirt unbuttoned, thick wedding band glinting on the hand fisted in her hair. His cock, Claire saw it, and her cunt clenched involuntarily, was obscene: nine thick inches, veins like cables, flushed angry red, a fat bead of pre-cum already pearling at the slit. It bobbed heavily against his stomach as he shoved the girl forward.

“On your knees, you cheating little whore,” he snarled, voice gravel and smoke. “Show me how much wetter you get for a married dick than for that limp-dicked boy you call a boyfriend.”

The girl dropped instantly, mouth watering, tongue already out. “God, yes, please. I’m so fucking empty without a real man inside me.” She nuzzled his cock like it was oxygen, lips stretching obscenely wide, spit bubbling at the corners as she forced herself down until her nose pressed into his trimmed pubes. The wet, choking gags echoed through the speakers, each one punching straight between Claire’s legs.

Claire’s thighs were slick. She could feel her own juices sliding down the inside of one leg, soaking the lace tops of her stockings. Her nipples throbbed against the silk of her bra, so hard they hurt. She couldn’t stop her hand; it moved on its own, pushing her skirt up, fingers diving under drenched panties to find her clit swollen and slippery, pulsing.

Below, the man hauled the girl up by her hair and threw her face down on the bed. He ripped the thong clean off; the fabric tore with a sharp rip that made Claire whimper. The girl’s pussy was a ruined, glistening mess: lips puffy and crimson, clit peeking out like a ripe berry, a steady stream of creamy arousal dripping onto the sheets.

“Look at that greedy cunt,” he laughed cruelly, slapping it hard. Once. Twice. The girl screamed in bliss, hips bucking back for more. “Your boyfriend ever make you this wet? Ever make this pretty hole beg?”

“Never,” the girl sobbed, spreading her knees wider, back arched like a cat in heat. “Only you. Only married cock makes me this fucking stupid.”

He lined up and slammed in to the hilt in one savage thrust.

The sound it made was obscene: a wet, filthy squelch as her body swallowed every inch, followed by the loud, rhythmic slap-slap-slap of his heavy balls smacking her clit. Her pussy lips clung to his shaft on every withdrawal, dragging out strings of creamy froth that splattered his thighs.

Claire’s fingers were frantic now, three of them plunging in and out of her own spasm-ing hole while her thumb grind against her clit. She was dripping onto the leather sofa, the scent of her own desperate cunt mixing with the flood coming from below.

The man gripped the girl’s hips hard enough to leave bruises shaped like his fingerprints and started fucking her like he wanted to split her in half. Every thrust forced a fresh gush of wetness from her stuffed cunt; it sprayed in tiny arcs, soaking his balls, running in rivulets down her trembling thighs.

“Tell me again,” he growled, leaning over her, biting her shoulder hard enough to mark. “Tell me whose cum you want dripping out of this slutty little hole when you go home to him.”

“Yours,” she wailed, voice breaking on every thrust. “Your cum, Daddy, please, breed me, ruin me for him forever—”

He flipped her onto her back without pulling out, hooked her knees over his elbows, and folded her nearly in half. The new angle let Claire see everything: the way the girl’s pussy lips stretched impossibly wide around his piston-ing cock, the creamy ring of froth at the base, the way her clit jerked and twitched with every brutal stroke.

Claire was close, so close, her thighs shaking, breath coming in broken sobs.

The man looked straight up at the mirror, straight through it, and Claire’s heart stopped.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, voice suddenly soft, loving, unmistakable—Mark’s voice. “Watch me wreck this pretty little thing. Watch how hard your husband’s cock gets for a tight twenty-four-year-old cunt.”

He slammed in one final time, hips grinding deep, and roared as he came. Claire saw it happen: the thick shaft pulsing, pumping, flooding the girl’s womb with thick, heavy ropes of cum. The girl’s back bowed off the bed, her own orgasm ripping through her, pussy squirting in rhythmic jets around Mark’s buried cock, milking him for every drop.

Claire shattered.

Her orgasm hit like a fist, cunt clamping down on her plunging fingers, a hot rush of liquid soaking her hand, her thighs, the sofa beneath her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, only feel the endless waves of pleasure ripping through her as she watched Mark slowly pull out.

His cock glistened, still half-hard, streaked with another woman’s cream and his own spent. A thick river of cum immediately poured from the girl’s gaping, twitching hole, pooling on the sheets.

Mark looked up again, eyes locked on Claire’s reflection, and crooked a cum-slick finger.

“Get down here, love,” he said, voice husky with satisfaction and fresh hunger. “Your husband’s not finished. I want to watch you clean up every drop I just put inside her… then I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

Claire was already moving, legs shaking, panties left ruined on the lounge floor, heart pounding with a single thought:

She had never been this wet, this filthy, this alive in her entire life.........