Emily's Burning Desire
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 77
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 77 - In the sultry shadows of desire, innocent Emily lusts after her roommate's hunky boyfriend, igniting a wildfire of forbidden passion. One drunken night unleashes a torrent of ecstasy as she's ravished by his massive cock, but it's only the beginning.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Sharing Slut Wife MaleDom Rough Spanking PonyGirl Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Analingus Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Voyeurism
Shame, regret, satisfaction ... Emily couldn’t quite pin down which emotion dominated as she replayed last night’s wild escapade with Travis in her mind.
Glancing around the room, she noted how spotlessly clean it was, more like a staged showroom than the kind of lived-in space Travis might actually use. It had to be a guest room, one that sat empty most of the time.
She slipped quietly into the bathroom, wiping herself down with a damp cloth as best she could, then pulled on her clothes. Her leggings were crusted with dried cum, but she had nothing else to wear.
Ignoring the ache between her legs, she padded down the hallway until she reached the spacious dining room, where Travis was already digging into breakfast.
He glanced up as she entered, his eyes cold and fleeting, before dropping back to his plate.
Emily gave him a small nod and murmured softly, “General King ... thanks for last night. I should head out now.”
She turned and took a few steps toward the door before his voice finally cut through. “Not hungry?”
She froze, then looked back at him with a shy, tentative smile. “I am.”
“Come eat.” He nudged his plate lightly with his fork. The table was laden with platters of nutritious food, far more than one person could polish off.
Emily approached slowly, the morning light catching Travis’s profile and gilding it with a golden edge that spilled across his straight shoulders and back. She found herself mesmerized, her steps faltering until she stopped altogether, just a few feet away.
“What?” He turned his head toward her.
She didn’t answer, lost in her stare.
“What are you looking at?” His voice sharpened.
It took her a beat to snap out of it. She lowered her eyes, fragile as a lotus swaying in the breeze. “Nothing, really. Just ... you look so good from this angle. I wish we could freeze this moment forever.”
Travis had never watched a single romance drama in his life, but here he was, witnessing a live performance.
“...”
His face tightened, and he said nothing, turning back to his food and resuming his meal.
Emily couldn’t read his expression, but the chill radiating from him was unmistakable, like he was determined not to let a single hint of feeling slip through.
She swallowed hard. She had no idea why so many women went for the stoic type, the ones who treated you like an ice sculpture, but damn if Travis in that mode didn’t make her sore, freshly fucked pussy throb with fresh heat.
She hurried over and slid into the seat beside him, pouring herself a glass from his insulated mug of green juice. It looked healthy enough. One sip, and she nearly spat it out, grimacing at the bitter blend of who-knows-what veggies and fruits.
She set the glass down and turned to watch him eat instead. He sliced his steak with precise efficiency, chewing silently, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.
She stared for a good half minute until he looked up, clearly puzzled by the intensity of her gaze.
Their eyes locked for two seconds. Emily searched his steely depths for any spark of desire, but all she got was that unyielding stare, which left her feeling a little breathless.
So she reached up, tugged off her black hoodie in one swift motion, and let it drop.
Her full, proud breasts strained against the sports bra underneath, the black fabric accentuating the deep valley of pale cleavage, the faint outline of her nipples visible through the thin material.
“ ... What the hell are you doing?” Travis’s brow furrowed slightly. If his repertoire included a “baffled” expression, he’d be wearing it now, but he was too serious for that.
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