u/Cutiecloudyxx

I know this makes me sound like a villain. Or maybe just a girl who’s gone too far. But I need to say it out loud because the way it turned me on? The way he begged for it? It’s all I can think about.

It started as a game. Dirty talk during sex, little teases like What if I let someone else fuck me better than you? His reaction was electric he’d freeze, then get harder. That look in his eyes, like he was torn between rage and desperation? It made me feel powerful. Like I could push him to the edge and he’d still crawl back for more.

One night, I went out in this ridiculous dress tight, short, the kind that makes men stare. I flirted with this older guy at the bar, all confidence and rough hands. And then, from the bathroom, I texted my boyfriend:

He wants me. Should I?

I expected him to lose it. To tell me no. To fight for me.

Instead, he replied:

Do it.

Two words. That’s all it took.

The sex was filthy fast, rough, no romance. Just me bent over in the backseat of a stranger’s car, thinking about him at home, probably stroking himself like the good little cuck he was becoming.

When I got back, he was silent at first. Just watching me. I sat on the bed and told him everything how big the guy was, how loud I moaned, how good it felt. I wanted to hurt him. To break him.

But he didn’t break. He got hard. And when I kept talking, he came without me even touching him.

That’s when I knew I had him.

Now? I flirt in front of him. I text other men while he watches. I call him my cuck in that quiet, embarrassed voice that makes him whimper. And the power? The way he needs this humiliation as much as I need the control?

I’m addicted.

I know it’s twisted. I know it’s not what relationships are supposed to be.

But he wants it. He begs for it.

And honestly?

So do I.

🤨 So.

Went to this jogging/yoga hybrid event last Saturday thought it’d be a fun way to mix up my routine (and maybe meet someone who doesn’t just grunt at me in the weight room). Yoga part was fine, but afterward, I crashed into this little seating area with three empty chairs. Queue: him.

This guy decent 6/10, built like he might skip leg day but makes up for it with biceps drops into the chair right next to mine. Not the other empty one. This one. Close enough I could see the sweat still drying on his neck. Not unattractive, but not my usual type either (I’ve got a weakness for lanky nerds, sue me). Still, he had that I’m definitely sitting here on purpose energy, so I figured, Why not?

And… he was fine. Conversation flowed okay mostly him talking about his clean bulk and how he only does organic protein powder (cool, bro). I played along, laughed at his jokes, and when there was a lull, I asked for his number. Dude immediately handed it over, grinning like he’d already won.

Texted him two days later casual, no pressure: Hey, it was nice meeting you! Ever been to the climbing gym at Kallang?

Crickets.

Cool. Guess his clean bulk didn’t include basic manners. Oh well. Back to the gym or, y’know, actually flirting with the cute barista at my usual café who remembers my oat milk order.

(Next time, I’m wearing my Do Not Disturb face from the start.)

Okay, I never thought I’d type this out, but… here we are. Third year at a local uni in Singapore, sharing a dorm with this girl from my course let’s call her L. Picture this: tiny, soft-spoken, total K-drama protagonist energy big eyes, even bigger brain, the kind of girl who’d blush if you said “fuck” too loud near her.

Or so I thought.

It started after a very tipsy night post-campus party. Cheap beer, a dress that barely passed as “decent,” and zero luck with the guy I’d been low-key grinding on at the event. We stumbled back to our room (hers was a disaster of half-finished essays), collapsed onto my bed, and somehow went from dissecting our terrible dance moves to… other kinds of dissection.

She dropped the bomb first: “I’m bi. And I’ve definitely thought about you like that.”

Cue my brain short-circuiting. One second, we’re laughing; the next, her lips are on mine, her hands everywhere, and holy shit, she knew what she was doing. Pushed me back, yanked my dress up, and okay, I’m getting wet just remembering her mouth was relentless. Fingers curling inside me while her tongue did things that had me biting my pillow to stay quiet. (Thank god for Singapore’s concrete walls, am I right?)

I had to return the favor. First time going down on a girl, and damn—she tasted like sin and something addictive. Got so turned on I had to touch myself while eating her out, which only made her wetter. We ended up a tangled, sweaty mess, scissoring like our lives depended on it, my sheets ruined in the best way.

Now? We’ve got this routine. A quick, desperate hookup between lab reports or after the library closes hands under the desk during study sessions, “accidental” touches in the shower when the hall’s empty. It’s our stress relief, this filthy secret that keeps us sane through deadlines.

The wildest part? We never talk about it sober. Just… pretend it’s not happening. Until the next time one of us “can’t sleep” and accidentally ends up in the other’s bed.

Anyone else’s roommate not just a roommate?

My boyfriend dared me to go to him by train wearing only my long coat. I kept putting it off because I was terrified of getting caught but today, I finally worked up the nerve. It was a hot, sticky Singapore afternoon, and I was already sweating just thinking about it. While getting ready at my HDB flat, I stripped off all my clothes, stuffed them into my bag, and slipped on my longest coat. Just that, my shoes, and nothing else. My heart was pounding as I left the house, the coat barely covering my ass if I moved too fast.

First, I took the bus. I sat right at the back thankfully, it was nearly empty. The ride was about 30 minutes, and by halfway through, I was so turned on. I lifted the coat just enough to press my bare ass against the seat, fingers sneaking down to tease myself. The cool plastic against my skin made me bite my lip to keep from moaning.

At the MRT station, I had to walk slowly any faster and the coat would gap open, flashing my pussy to everyone. The train was packed, and I ended up sitting across from an auntie. When I sat down, the coat split more than I expected, and I know she saw everything. Her eyes locked onto me, and she smiled not shocked, not disgusted, just… amused. I couldn’t take it anymore and bolted to the train toilet, where I fully undressed, touched myself until I came, and even took a few nudes. After fixing myself up, I went back to my seat, still naked under the coat, trying to act like nothing happened.

When I reached the station where my boyfriend was waiting, I opened my coat and flashed him my naked body. His jaw dropped, and he dragged me into the nearest stairwell to fuck me right there against the wall.

Best. Dare. Ever. 😈

I (22F, SG) have a problem. A very specific, very embarrassing problem. I get unhinged when a man is good at something. Like, stupidly turned on. We’re not talking ‘oh he’s cute’ we’re talking full-body shiver, thighs clenched, ‘why am I wet over a man explaining Excel macros’ level of betrayal.

Examples of things that have ruined me:

A guy fixing his bike with focused, grease-stained hands? Dead.

Some random dude at a café latte art-ing like he’s in a fucking espresso Olympics? Burial plot reserved.

My friend’s brother debugging code while muttering to himself? I had to leave the room.

A perfectly folded fitted sheet? I am not okay.

It’s not even about the skill itself it’s the confidence, the precision, the way their forehead scrunches when they’re in the zone. My brain short-circuits and suddenly I’m imagining them applying that same focus to me, and okay, no, we’re not going there

My friends don’t get it. They’re out here thirsting over abs and jawlines, and I’m in the group chat sending, “HE JUST REPAIRED A LEAKY FAUCET WITHOUT GOOGLING IT. I’M FERAL.” Am I broken? Is this a thing? Do other people have a ‘competence kink’ or am I just a degenerate with a skill-based porn category in my head?

Validate me. Roast me. Tell me your own weird turn-ons so I don’t feel like a lone psychopath. (And if you’re a guy who’s really good at anything carpentry, coding, folding laundry hit me up. For research.)

I should be over him by now. But no my body remembers.

The hotel rooms he’d book just to fuck me against the window. The way he’d bend me over and use me until I couldn’t walk straight. The time we finished, and the couple next door started moaning so loud he was annoyed, but I? I got wet all over again.

He knew I loved being his little slut. Knew I’d do anything for his cock. So he’d withhold it. Make me beg. And god, I did.

Now? I cum to strangers on Reddit instead. Post, tease, let them imagine what he got. Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s just sad.

Because since him? Only big dicks do it for me. And yeah, I’ve always loved women but the fantasy of him watching me with one? Gone. And I miss it.

(Though I did have fun the other night… girl sent me pics of her and her boyfriend, I sent hers back, and let’s just say my fingers got a workout. )

Guess I’m still chasing that high. (Or that dick.)

I know I’m a shitty person, but I can’t stop.

I live with two girls, and one of them has a 25M boyfriend who’s over all the time. At first, he was just her guy polite, distant, whatever. But then he started staying late when she’d go to bed early. We’d end up alone in the living room, talking really talking. He’d vent about how she ignores him, how frustrated he is. I’d listen, nod, understand.

Then I started dressing differently when I knew he’d be over tiny shorts, thin tops, no bra. He noticed.

One night, she crashed early. He was still on the couch, so I sat next to him under the same blanket. His hand crept up my thigh. I didn’t stop him. Then we were kissing slow, quiet, her room right there.

We made out for so long. His hands under my top, squeezing my tits, sucking my nipples until I was dripping. I stroked him through his pants, then took him in my mouth right there on the couch slow, silent, her asleep down the hall.

Then he pulled me on top of him. I rode him right there, biting my lip to stay quiet, the risk making me so wet.

Now? We sneak every time he comes over. Quickies in the bathroom. My bed when she’s at work. He fucks me better than she’ll ever know, and the secret makes it burn.

I know it’s fucked up. But I let him do whatever he wants to me.

(And I’d do it again.) 😈"

The hotel room, the dusky lighting, his rough hands as he grabbed my hips. He pounded me into the window, the glass biting into my back as I moaned out his name. His throaty growls echoing through the stillness, his wet tongue tracing my collarbone. Every time I looked over, I saw his grim determination in those dark eyes.

The way he'd bend me over and spank me until I couldn't walk straight was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. I'd cringe and cry out, but god, the rush of it all... He knew I loved being his little slut, knew I'd do anything for his cock.

And so he'd tease me, make me wait, make me beg. And I did. I was, quite literally, a wreck. Because the minutes stretched into hours and still no release. Finally, when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he'd shove himself deep inside me and let me have him.

I should be over him by now. Really, I should. But my body remembers. My mind swims in memories of his long fingers tracing my spine, his rough hands clutching my ass cheeks, his hot breath against my skin.

I’ve always loved women, but now nothing else does it for me. Not even anonymous hookups or my own hand. It’s like my body only knows how to come from him.

It's embarrassing, yes. But hot too. And yeah, once I got so horny that this girl sent me pics of her and her bf, so I sent some back, and let’s just say my fingers got a hell of a workout as I imagined them both.

Guess I'm still chasing that high. That dick. It's such a fucking shame that it's the only thing that gets me going these days.

I don’t just want to be yours.

I want to be used.

Not in the way that sounds desperate though, god, maybe I am but in the way that makes my skin burn just thinking about it. I want a man who looks at me and knows he could have me anytime, anywhere, however he wants but who also gets hard at the thought of another man’s hands on me.

I want to be dressed up lace, leather, something that makes my hips sway when I walk into a room. I want to be shown off, your arm around my waist, your voice low in my ear as you tell me who’s watching. I want to be the girl you trust to come home to you, even when I’m still flushed from someone else’s touch.

I don’t want a cuck. I don’t want weakness.

I want a man who fucks me like he owns me who bends me over the couch when I get home and reminds me who I belong to but who also gets off on the idea of me being passed around. Who holds my hand while another man’s cock is inside me, who whispers filthy things in my ear about how good I look taking it. Who needs to hear every detail when I get back how he touched me, how I moaned, how I came.

I want to be yours.

And I want you to share me.

I’ve had my eye on Jordan 6’4”, all muscle, that thick beard rubbing against my neck every time he “accidentally” brushed past me. Last night, after the game, I made sure I was the last one left in the locker room.

The second the door clicked shut, I pushed him against the bench and dropped to my knees. No teasing. No talking. Just my lips wrapped around him, raw and hungry, until he was hard as steel and glistening.

He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to.

One yank of my hair, and I was bent over the bench, face pressed into the vinyl while he lined up no condom, no mercy just that first brutal thrust that made my toes curl. He filled me *stretched me owned me every snap of his hips bottoming out so deep I could feel him in my throat.

Thirty minutes of relentless pounding, the bench screeching under us, my ass jiggling with every slap of his balls. I was dripping, gaping, begging but he didn’t stop until he buried himself to the hilt and flooded me with every last drop.

Left me ruined. Left me his.

(And yes, I’m still sore. Worth it.) 😈

Exams tomorrow? Yeah, right. My brain’s already packed its bags and left for Bali or at least, the naughty corner of my imagination. So since I’m clearly not focusing… help me decide:

Option A: The Good Girl Act

Tiny pleated school skirt (the one that barely covers my ass when I sit).

Thigh-highs (because obviously).

""Accidentally"" letting my panties peek when I ""drop my pen"" in the library.

Pros: You get the full ""innocent co-ed"" fantasy if you can handle the teasing.

Cons: I’ll get too into the roleplay and ""forget"" to study… or worse, ""forget"" my panties entirely. 😏

Option B: The Lazy Slut Vibes

Boyfriend’s oversized hoodie (stolen, never returning).

No bra (because who’s checking? Oh wait you are).

One wrong stretch and you’re getting a free show.

Pros: Cozy, easy access, and perfect for ""studying""… if by studying, we mean your cock.

Cons: I might ""fall asleep"" mid-tease… or just skip the tease and go straight to riding you.

So tell me, SG

Which one makes you harder while I’m “revising”?

(Bonus points if you describe what you’d do to me in either outfit. 😉)

P.S. – If you pick neither, you’re banned from my study group. 😈

Is there a sub for strangers catching people in the act in public and either watching or joining? Looking for real unplanned encounters, not staged exhibitionism.

I never thought I’d be the kind of girl to do this but here we are.

My boyfriend, Darren, is a sweet, nerdy tech guy. Smart, kind, and completely obsessed with me. But deep down, he had this fantasy he’d been hiding for years: he wanted to watch another man take me, to see me lose control in a way he never could.

One night, after a few glasses of wine at a rooftop bar in Marina Bay, he finally confessed. To my surprise, I didn’t feel shocked I felt intrigued. ""You really want to see me with someone else?"" I asked, biting my lip. His dark eyes burned with need. Over the next few weeks, we talked about it constantly. The more we discussed it, the wetter I got. The idea of being ""bad"" in front of him of letting another man claim me while he watched made me drip.

We decided to make it happen at CE LA VI, this upscale rooftop bar downtown. Darren picked my outfit: a tiny black dress that barely covered my ass, no bra, and strappy heels that made my legs look endless. My dark hair was loose and wavy. I looked like pure temptation.

At the bar, we spotted him almost immediately: Marcus. Tall (6’4”), broad-shouldered, with deep brown skin, sharp eyes, and that alpha energy that made people notice him. A former athlete turned entrepreneur the kind of man who owned a room without trying. Darren’s hand tightened around his drink as Marcus’s gaze locked onto me.

""Go talk to him,"" Darren whispered, voice rough. ""I want to watch.""

My heart raced. I sauntered over, hips swaying. Marcus smiled down at me like he already knew why I was there. Within minutes, his hand was on my lower back, his voice low and commanding. Darren sat a few tables away, pretending to check his phone, but I knew he was hard just watching.

Marcus leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. ""You want me to fuck you while your man watches, don’t you?""

I glanced back at Darren his eyes dark with hunger and nodded.

We left the bar together: Marcus, me, and Darren trailing behind like an obedient shadow. The ride to Marcus’s Sentosa Cove penthouse was electric. In the elevator, Marcus pulled me against him, kissing me deeply while Darren watched, his breath ragged. My small frame pressed against Marcus’s powerful body, his hands roaming everywhere.

When the elevator doors opened, my dress was already hiked up, my tits exposed. Darren followed us inside, his cock straining as Marcus lifted me onto the floor-to-ceiling window ledge, spreading my legs.

""Fuck, you’re perfect,"" Marcus growled, dropping to his knees. He ripped my thong aside and buried his face between my legs. I gasped, my head falling back against the glass as his tongue worked my clit with expert precision. Darren stood nearby, stroking himself as he watched his girlfriend get eaten out by a man twice his size.

""You taste so fucking sweet, baby,"" Marcus rumbled. ""Your boyfriend ever make you this wet?""

I whimpered, locking eyes with Darren. ""N-no… never like this…""

Darren groaned, his hand moving faster over his cock.

Marcus stood, unzipping his pants. His cock sprang free thick, veiny, easily 9 inches. My pussy clenched just looking at it.

""Tell him what you want,"" Marcus ordered.

I bit my lip. ""I want your big cock inside me… while my boyfriend watches.""

Marcus didn’t hesitate. He spun me around, pressing me against the glass, my ass pushed out toward him. Darren had a perfect view as Marcus lined up and pushed in slow at first, stretching me wide. I cried out, my nails scraping the window.

""Fuuuuck!"" I moaned, my body jolting with every deep thrust. Darren stroked himself furiously, watching his petite girlfriend get ruined by a real man.

""Harder! Oh god, fuck me harder!"" I begged, pushing back against him.

Marcus gripped my hair, yanking my head back. ""This pussy is mine now, isn’t it?""

""Yes! Yes, it’s yours!"" I sobbed. ""Darren could never fuck me like this… your cock is so much bigger… I’m gonna cum!""

And I did hard, my legs shaking, pussy clenching around Marcus’s thick shaft. Darren watched, humiliated but so turned on, as I came harder than I ever had with him.

Marcus flipped me onto my back on the couch, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove in even deeper. The wet slapping sounds were obscene. I came again and again, each orgasm more intense than the last.

Finally, Marcus groaned, burying himself to the hilt. ""Take my cum, baby.""

Thick ropes of hot cum flooded my womb, filling me up until I could feel it dripping out. When he pulled out, his release poured from my stretched, gaping pussy onto the couch.

Marcus looked at Darren, still stroking his smaller cock. ""Your turn to clean her up, cuck.""

Darren didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, licking Marcus’s cum from my freshly fucked pussy while I stroked his hair. ""Good boy… thank you for letting me have this.""

I lay there, completely wrecked, already thinking about the next time Marcus would destroy me with Darren watching every second.

And yeah… I’m me. This was the best night of my life. 😈

I never thought I’d be the kind of girl to do this but here we are.

My boyfriend, Darren, is a sweet, nerdy tech guy. Smart, kind, and completely obsessed with me. But deep down, he had this fantasy he’d been hiding for years: he wanted to watch another man take me, to see me lose control in a way he never could.

One night, after a few glasses of wine at a rooftop bar in Marina Bay, he finally confessed. To my surprise, I didn’t feel shocked I felt intrigued. ""You really want to see me with someone else?"" I asked, biting my lip. His dark eyes burned with need. Over the next few weeks, we talked about it constantly. The more we discussed it, the wetter I got. The idea of being ""bad"" in front of him of letting another man claim me while he watched made me drip.

We decided to make it happen at CE LA VI, this upscale rooftop bar downtown. Darren picked my outfit: a tiny black dress that barely covered my ass, no bra, and strappy heels that made my legs look endless. My dark hair was loose and wavy. I looked like pure temptation.

At the bar, we spotted him almost immediately: Marcus. Tall (6’4”), broad-shouldered, with deep brown skin, sharp eyes, and that alpha energy that made people notice him. A former athlete turned entrepreneur the kind of man who owned a room without trying. Darren’s hand tightened around his drink as Marcus’s gaze locked onto me.

""Go talk to him,"" Darren whispered, voice rough. ""I want to watch.""

My heart raced. I sauntered over, hips swaying. Marcus smiled down at me like he already knew why I was there. Within minutes, his hand was on my lower back, his voice low and commanding. Darren sat a few tables away, pretending to check his phone, but I knew he was hard just watching.

Marcus leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. ""You want me to fuck you while your man watches, don’t you?""

I glanced back at Darren his eyes dark with hunger and nodded.

We left the bar together: Marcus, me, and Darren trailing behind like an obedient shadow. The ride to Marcus’s Sentosa Cove penthouse was electric. In the elevator, Marcus pulled me against him, kissing me deeply while Darren watched, his breath ragged. My small frame pressed against Marcus’s powerful body, his hands roaming everywhere.

When the elevator doors opened, my dress was already hiked up, my tits exposed. Darren followed us inside, his cock straining as Marcus lifted me onto the floor-to-ceiling window ledge, spreading my legs.

""Fuck, you’re perfect,"" Marcus growled, dropping to his knees. He ripped my thong aside and buried his face between my legs. I gasped, my head falling back against the glass as his tongue worked my clit with expert precision. Darren stood nearby, stroking himself as he watched his girlfriend get eaten out by a man twice his size.

""You taste so fucking sweet, baby,"" Marcus rumbled. ""Your boyfriend ever make you this wet?""

I whimpered, locking eyes with Darren. ""N-no… never like this…""

Darren groaned, his hand moving faster over his cock.

Marcus stood, unzipping his pants. His cock sprang free thick, veiny, easily 9 inches. My pussy clenched just looking at it.

""Tell him what you want,"" Marcus ordered.

I bit my lip. ""I want your big cock inside me… while my boyfriend watches.""

Marcus didn’t hesitate. He spun me around, pressing me against the glass, my ass pushed out toward him. Darren had a perfect view as Marcus lined up and pushed in slow at first, stretching me wide. I cried out, my nails scraping the window.

""Fuuuuck!"" I moaned, my body jolting with every deep thrust. Darren stroked himself furiously, watching his petite girlfriend get ruined by a real man.

""Harder! Oh god, fuck me harder!"" I begged, pushing back against him.

Marcus gripped my hair, yanking my head back. ""This pussy is mine now, isn’t it?""

""Yes! Yes, it’s yours!"" I sobbed. ""Darren could never fuck me like this… your cock is so much bigger… I’m gonna cum!""

And I did hard, my legs shaking, pussy clenching around Marcus’s thick shaft. Darren watched, humiliated but so turned on, as I came harder than I ever had with him.

Marcus flipped me onto my back on the couch, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove in even deeper. The wet slapping sounds were obscene. I came again and again, each orgasm more intense than the last.

Finally, Marcus groaned, burying himself to the hilt. ""Take my cum, baby.""

Thick ropes of hot cum flooded my womb, filling me up until I could feel it dripping out. When he pulled out, his release poured from my stretched, gaping pussy onto the couch.

Marcus looked at Darren, still stroking his smaller cock. ""Your turn to clean her up, cuck.""

Darren didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, licking Marcus’s cum from my freshly fucked pussy while I stroked his hair. ""Good boy… thank you for letting me have this.""

I lay there, completely wrecked, already thinking about the next time Marcus would destroy me with Darren watching every second.

And yeah… I’m me. This was the best night of my life.

This is one of those memories that still makes my toes curl when I think about it.

A bit about me I’m 22, mixed Eurasian with hazel eyes and dark hair, just under 1.6m tall. This happened when I was 18, fresh out of JC and moving into my first shared flat in Singapore a cozy little HDB in Tiong Bahru. It was my first time living on my own, and I was thirsty for new experiences.

The flat was a typical student share cheap rent, thin walls, and a constant hum of activity. My first night there, my flatmates threw a welcome party. Beer in plastic cups (because glass is a no-no in HDBs), loud K-pop remixes, and that unmistakable Singaporean party energy half the people were in shorts and flip-flops, the other half dressed like they were heading to Zouk. At one point, a girl in a very revealing cheongsam walked up to me, smiled, and said, "Your top is cute." We chatted, and she was surprisingly sweet—until I noticed two people very obviously hooking up in the bomb shelter. No subtlety, just pure, unfiltered desire.

Welcome to adulting in Singapore, I thought.

After an hour of trying to keep up with the chaos, I decided to call it a night. On my way to my room, I ran into my neighbor a tall, muscular Chinese-Singaporean guy, just over 1.8m, with that aesthetic gym-bro look. We made eye contact in the hallway. He smiled. I smiled back. He disappeared into his room.

Then I realized the bathroom layout: My room ...Bathroom ....His room. Both our doors opened into it.

A little idea sparked. I left my door slightly ajar.

That night, I lay in bed, mind racing about him, the party, this wild new chapter. I drifted in and out of sleep, fantasizing, until my alarm went off at 6 AM. I was desperate for a shower.

But as I reached for the bathroom door water running. He was already in there. And he hadn’t closed my side.

My heart raced. I stepped inside.

The shower curtain was half-open. He was under the water, stroking himself. When he noticed me, he froze hand covering up, eyes wide. I played embarrassed but didn’t leave. Just stood there, watching. Damn. Toned chest, defined abs, water sliding down his skin. And big easily 8 inches, even half-hard.

Our eyes locked. Twenty seconds of charged silence. Then I smiled. He smiled back.

"The water heater is shared," he said casually, in that ah beng accent that made my knees weak. "Wanna join?"

I laughed. "Guess I don’t have a choice."

I stepped in. We kissed immediately, the warm water making everything feel intimate. My hands explored his chest, his back, his arms. His grip found my ass, the other teasing my breasts through my wet tank top. I was already dripping.

Then I knelt.

Up close, he was huge. I started slow kisses along his shaft, lips brushing, teasing. Then I licked, took his balls in my mouth, rolling them with my tongue while stroking him. My hand barely wrapped around him.

When I looked up, he had this shy smile that made me even wetter.

Finally, I took him in my mouth. First time with someone this big, so I went slow relaxing my throat, taking more each time. Hand and mouth working together, sucking the tip, then deeper, deeper…

After ten minutes of building rhythm, he warned me he was close. He gripped my hair, pushing deeper as he came down my throat. I stayed on my knees, watching him cocky smile, rough sounds, pure dominance.

Then the water turned ice cold.

He pulled out, rested his cock on my face. "Don’t move."

He rinsed off fast while I knelt there, freezing but so turned on. The second he turned off the water, I touched myself and came instantly. Still the fastest orgasm I’ve ever had.

He dried off, gave me a satisfied smirk, and walked back to his room this time, shutting the door.

That was the first time I felt truly bold, taking what I wanted from a stranger. And yeah… we did way more naughty things over the next few months like the time he bent me over the kitchen counter while my flatmates were watching Money Heist in the living room.

But that’s a story for another time. 😉

Hope you enjoyed my little HDB shower confession