The storm hit like a beast unleashed, pounding our town with sheets of rain that hammered the roof and winds that screamed through the night. For six hours, we crammed into the bathroom—Mom clutching her rosary, Dad barking orders to stay put, my little brother Tim wide-eyed and silent, and me, squeezed between them on the cold tile floor. I’m Riley, nineteen, a redheaded cheerleader with D-cup tits straining against my soaked tank top and a bubble butt that even wet clothes couldn’t hide.

The house shook with every gust, thuds echoing as branches snapped and debris pelted the walls. My heart raced, not just from fear, but from the raw power of it all, pressing us so close in that tiny space.

When it finally died down, dawn revealed the chaos outside: trees down everywhere, power lines tangled like veins. Our place held up better than most—just some siding ripped off and a fist-sized hole in the wall by my bedroom, right at waist height.

It punched straight through to the outside world. Dad grumbled about calling a contractor, but the town’s builders were swamped with worse wrecks. For now, he slapped a blue tarp over it from the yard side, stapling it tight.

“It’ll hold till we get it fixed,” he said, but I knew better.

My room felt exposed, that patch flapping faintly in the breeze like a thin veil between me and whatever lurked out there.

A week dragged by, the hole nagging at me every time I changed or lounged on my bed. I caught myself glancing at it, a weird mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up. Late one night, the house was quiet with everyone asleep, and I lay in bed scrolling on my phone when a rustle outside snapped me alert.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel path, deliberate and close. My pulse quickened. I slipped out of bed in just my panties and a loose crop top, my full tits bouncing free underneath, nipples hardening against the fabric from the chill. Creeping to the wall, I pressed my ear near the tarp. Heavy breathing filtered through, ragged and low, as if someone were exerting himself. Then, the sharp rasp of a zipper.

I froze, breath catching in my throat. Who the hell was out there? The footsteps shuffled closer, and the air seemed thicker, charged with something forbidden. A thrill shot through me, warm and illicit, making my pussy clench. The risk of it—my family asleep down the hall, the wall so thin—lit a fire in my core. I shouldn’t look, shouldn’t even breathe, but I couldn’t pull away.

The tarp tugged suddenly, fabric whispering as it was yanked aside. And then it thrust through: a massive cock, nine inches at least, thick as my wrist, veins bulging along its length. It bobbed in the dim light from my lamp, the fat head slick with pre-cum that glistened like a promise.

“Suck it ... Suck my cock,” came the raspy whisper from the other side, rough and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine.

My mouth went dry, but my body betrayed me, heat pooling between my thighs. I don’t know what possessed me—maybe the storm’s wild energy still lingered, or the anonymity of it all, this stranger’s dick invading my space as if it owned it. Taboo rushed through me, the thought of Mom or Dad waking to this making my clit throb. I dropped to my knees on the carpet, the rough weave biting into my skin, and leaned in. My hands wrapped around the base, fingers barely meeting, the heat of it searing my palms. It twitched at my touch, more pre-cum beading at the slit.

I parted my lips, tongue flicking out to taste the salty drop. The flavor exploded on my tongue—musky, primal—and I moaned softly, the sound muffled as I took the head into my mouth. It stretched my jaws wide, filling me instantly. I sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks, swirling my tongue around the ridge. The man groaned low, the vibration traveling through the wall, urging me on.

“Yeah, like that, you little slut,” he rasped, voice thick with need.

What if someone heard? The house creaked faintly, but it was just the night settling. I bobbed deeper, taking more of that huge cock, gagging slightly when it hit the back of my throat. Saliva dripped down my chin, soaking my top and making my tits slick. I cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten. The thrill of exposure hit harder; anyone could peek through a window and see me on my knees, worshipping this anonymous meat.

He pushed forward, fucking my face in shallow thrusts, the tarp rustling with each movement. “Deeper, take it all,” he demanded, breath hitching.

I relaxed my throat, letting him slide further, tears pricking my eyes from the strain. My free hand slipped into my panties, fingers circling my soaked pussy, dipping into the wetness. I was dripping, the taboo of sucking off a stranger through my bedroom wall while my family slept nearby, pushing me toward the edge. Every slobbery suck echoed in my ears, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room.

His cock pulsed, growing even harder, and I redoubled my efforts, humming around it to send vibrations through him. The dominance in his voice, the way he used my mouth like a hole—it ignited something deep, a rush of submission mixed with my own hungry control.

I wanted him to cum, to flood my throat, but part of me craved more, the danger pulling me under. Footsteps? No, just my imagination, or maybe not—the front door? My heart hammered, but I didn’t stop, sucking greedily as his grunts grew urgent.

“Fuck, you’re good ... gonna fill that mouth,” he growled, hips jerking erratically.

I braced for it, pussy clenching around my fingers, the suspense hanging thick as his cock swelled.

I kept sucking it as if my life depended on it, lips sealed tight around that throbbing shaft, my tongue pressing flat against the underside as I bobbed faster. The man’s hips bucked harder through the wall, driving his massive cock deeper into my mouth, stretching my throat until it burned with the effort. Gags rose in my chest, but I swallowed them down, tears streaming down my cheeks from the invasion.

My D-cup tits heaved with each breath I snatched between thrusts, nipples scraping against the damp fabric of my crop top, sending sparks straight to my clit. Tim could wake up any second, stumble down the hall for water, and catch me like this, on my knees with a stranger’s dick buried in my face. That thought only made me wetter, my fingers plunging deeper into my soaked pussy, slick sounds mixing with the sloppy glucks of my mouth working him over.

“Fuck yes, choke on it,” he rasped, voice gravelly and low, the words vibrating through the wall like a command I couldn’t ignore.

His cock hit the back of my throat again, the head bulging against my tonsils, and I felt it twitch violently, the veins pulsing under my tongue. My bubble butt clenched as I rocked on my heels, pussy dripping onto the carpet, the ache building to a fever pitch.

Then he exploded. His cock pulsed hard, once, twice, and hot ropes of thick cum shot straight down my throat, flooding me with his salty release. I swallowed greedily, every drop coating my tongue, the musky taste exploding in my mouth as I milked him with hungry lips. It was endless, spurt after spurt, forcing me to gulp fast to keep up, some leaking from the corners of my mouth to dribble down my chin and onto my tits. My body trembled, fingers circling my clit furiously, but I held back the orgasm, savoring the thrill of denial, the risk of getting caught mid-swallow.

He groaned deep, a guttural sound that rumbled through the wall, his balls tightening in my hand as the last spurts emptied into me. “Swallow it all, you dirty girl,” he commanded, breath ragged, the words laced with satisfaction and hunger.

I did, licking my lips clean, the flavor lingering like a dirty secret on my tongue. But he wasn’t done—his cock, still semi-hard and slick with my spit and his cum, pulled back through the hole with a wet pop, leaving my mouth empty and aching. I gasped for air, chest heaving, the cool night breeze whispering through the tarp to kiss my flushed skin.

Before I could catch my breath fully, he thrust forward again, fast and brutal, slamming that massive dick back into my waiting mouth. I yelped around it, the suddenness making my throat convulse, but I opened wider, sucking him deep once more.

“More,” he growled, hips snapping erratically, fucking my face with renewed urgency. Saliva bubbled at my lips, dripping onto my thighs as I knelt there, exposed and used.

The anonymous thrill hit harder now, knowing he’d cum once but wanted seconds, his raspy voice controlling me from the shadows. My pussy throbbed emptily, juices soaking my panties, fingers slipping inside to fuck myself in rhythm with his thrusts. What if Dad heard the wet smacks? The house was silent, but every creak amplified in my mind, heightening the danger, making my skin prickle with electric fear and lust.

He groaned rough commands between grunts, “Suck harder, take it deeper!”

His cock swelling again, chasing another release. I obeyed, throat relaxing to let him plunge balls-deep, nose brushing the rough edge of the hole in the wall. The scent of his musk filled my nostrils, mixed with the faint earthy smell of the storm-dampened tarp.

My tits bounced with each forceful push, the crop top riding up to expose them fully, nipples hard peaks begging for touch. Inside, emotions tangled—guilt for betraying my safe little life, exhilaration from the forbidden power of this secret worship, the way his aggression unlocked my deepest cravings. I was addicted already, the risk play turning every second into a high-wire act.

We paused for a ragged breath, his cock twitching in my mouth as he held still, buried to the hilt. I hummed around him, vibrations drawing another low moan from his side. My soaked pussy ached fiercely now, clenching around nothing, craving more than just his voice and that invading shaft.

I wanted him to rip through the wall, pin me down, fuck me raw right there on my bed. But the anonymity held its spell, the exhibitionist rush of servicing him through this flimsy barrier while the world slept. He pulled back slightly, then thrust again, slower this time, teasing the edge of control.

“You want it bad, don’t you?” he whispered hoarsely, reading my desperation.

I moaned affirmatively, the sound muffled, my fingers working my clit faster, building toward release. The night stretched on, full of promise and peril, his cock pulsing with intent as we teetered on the brink of more.

He pulled his cock from my mouth with a slick pop, leaving my lips swollen and tingling, strings of saliva and cum connecting us for a split second before they broke. I moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room, raw and desperate, my body arching toward the hole like a magnet.

The ache in my pussy was unbearable now, a throbbing void that demanded to be filled, my juices trickling down my thighs in hot rivulets. What if Mom stirred in her sleep, hearing my whimpers? The risk made my heart pound, heightening every sensation, my skin flushing hot under the cool draft from the tarp.

“Turn around, slut,” he rasped from the other side, his voice thick with command, dripping with the same aggression that had me on my knees. “Spread those legs wide. Show me that wet pussy.”

I didn’t hesitate, my cheerleader instincts kicking in with a thrill of submission. I scrambled to my feet, knees wobbly, and yanked my soaked panties down my legs, kicking them aside. My bubble butt jiggled as I positioned myself, facing the hole, bending at the waist with hands braced on my bed. I spread my legs wide, exposing everything—the slick lips of my dripping pussy, the tight pucker of my asshole, all vulnerable to the night air and his unseen gaze.

The exhibitionist rush hit me hard, knowing he could see my most intimate parts through that ragged tear, while I couldn’t see him at all. My D-cup tits hung heavy, nipples scraping the bedsheets, sending jolts to my clit. I felt so exposed, so dangerously alive, the anonymous partner’s control wrapping around me like invisible chains.

“Good girl,” he growled, the words vibrating through the wall, making my core clench.

I heard the tarp rustle, then felt the blunt head of his thick cock nudge against my vaginal entrance, hot and insistent. My soaked pussy tingled with anticipation, lips parting eagerly as he teased me, sliding the tip up and down my slit, coating himself in my arousal.

The sensation was electric—his heat against my cool, wet flesh, the risk of him thrusting too hard and tearing the tarp wider, alerting the whole house. Inside, a storm of feelings raged: the intimacy of this forbidden connection, no faces or names, just pure, animal need; the fear-laced excitement of getting caught mid-fuck by my own family.

Without warning, he pushed forward, his massive 9-inch shaft sliding through the hole and burying deep inside my dripping wet cunt in one brutal stroke. I gasped, the stretch burning deliciously as he filled me to the hilt, his girth splitting me open, balls slapping against my clit.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, voice hoarse with lust, hips already snapping back to thrust again.

The wall creaked under the force, the tarp flapping like a flag in the wind, amplifying the peril.

“Oh god, yes!” I cried out, voice breaking, my body rocking forward with each slam.

He fucked me hard, hips pounding relentlessly, the wet squelch of my pussy taking his cock echoing in the room. Every thrust drove deeper, hitting that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes, my walls clenching around him like a vice. I begged for it, words tumbling out in a haze of desperation.

“Harder, please, fuck me deeper!” I moaned.

My confident cheerleader facade crumbled into needy whimpers. The oral worship from before lingered on my tongue, his cum’s salty tang mixing with the fresh scent of our sex, sweat, and musk filling the air.

His hands must have been gripping the wall for leverage, because I felt the vibrations through the barrier, his aggressive rhythm unyielding. My tits bounced wildly, slapping against my arms, nipples aching from the friction. The taboo burned hottest: this stranger railing me through a hole in my childhood bedroom wall, while Dad snored down the hall and my brother slept oblivious.

I pushed back against him, grinding my bubble butt into the wall, craving every forbidden thrust, the anonymous thrill addicting me deeper. “Don’t stop,” I moaned, fingers digging into the sheets, my clit throbbing as his balls smacked it rhythmically.

Pleasure built like a wave, my body trembling with the dual assault of ecstasy and danger, toes curling into the carpet. He groaned low, raspy commands spilling out, “Take it all, you filthy little whore!”

His cock swelling inside me, veins pulsing against my sensitive cuntal walls. The intimacy was raw, unspoken bonds forming in the shadows, his aggression unlocking my hidden cravings for this perilous game.