Off Limits: A Forbidden And Seduction Erotica Compilation

The Maid II

Daphne

After that first, violent collision of our lips, Chris pulled back abruptly. His hands slid from my waist to my shoulders, shoving me back just far enough to let his dark, predatory stare rake over my body.

"You look..." His voice broke into a low rumble of disbelief. "You look incredible in this, Daphne."

Before I could breathe, he grabbed the silver chain at my neck. He didn't pull gently; he dragged me toward him by the links, forcing my head back until my throat was bared and my mouth was parted in a silent plea. His mouth crashed onto mine again, and this time it was an invasion. His tongue surged past my lips with a desperate, starving energy, seeking mine as if he were trying to reclaim every second of his year-long drought. Our teeth clashed, and I felt him tugging painfully, perfectly, on my lower lip.

I didn't shrink away. I fought for dominance until I finally melted, moaning into his mouth as I felt the rigid length of him poking my hip through the heavy fabric of his slacks.

"God, you're so soft," he groaned.

He hooked his arms under my legs and hoisted me up. I let out a breathy giggle, my arms wrapping around his neck as he marched us toward the kitchen island. He sat me down on the cold marble, the chill making me gasp against the heat of my own skin. I planted my black stilettos firmly against his belt and pushed him back.

"Stay there," I whispered. "Watch me, Chris."

His jaw locked. I could see the muscles in his neck straining as I reached for the front clasp of the red bra. I unhooked it slowly, letting the lace fall away to reveal my breasts. I began to massage them, my thumbs circling my n*****s into hard peaks.

"Daphne... f-fuck..." Chris groaned, covering his mouth with his hand. It looked physically painful for him to stay still.

I ignored his plea, letting out a long, high-pitched moan as I arched my back. I spread my legs wide on the marble island, the red net leggings and matching panties leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

His eyes naturally fell to the junction of my thighs, and I saw his d**k c****d to one side of his trousers, a wet patch of precum already staining on the expensive fabric.

"You're leaking, sir," I teased. "Is the view that good?"

"Come here," he rasped. "Please."

I beckoned him with a curled finger. He didn't walk; he rushed. He dove for my breasts first, his large hands fumbling to capture them. When he finally got his mouth over my n****e, he flicked his tongue up and down, then side to side, a rapid-fire friction that sent jolts of electricity straight to my p***y.

“Oh! Ah, Chris!" I threw my head back, my fingers clawing at the marble.

He moved lower, his movements frantic as he pressed his face against my panties. He tried to tug the fabric down, but the strings and my heels made it a tangled mess.

"Tear it," I urged. "Just rip it off!"

He hooked his fingers into the waistband and shredded the lace. He dived between my legs like a starving man finding his first meal in months. He buried his face in me, he licked my c******l hood, then buried his face in me, his tongue finding my c**t.

"Yes! Right there!" I screamed, holding his head in place.

He pulled back for a second, spread my lips wide with both hands, and spat directly onto my p***y. The warm, viscous liquid slicked me before he dove back in, licking all the way down to my ass and back up to suck my c**t. I was a screaming mess, my body bucking against the counter.

He stood up suddenly, his face flushed. "Open your mouth," he commanded.

I obeyed. He shoved four fingers deep into my mouth until I gagged, coating his hand in slimy spit. He took that wet hand down to my p***y and slid two fingers inside me without a second of hesitation. He didn't start slow. He thrust at a high speed, making me lift my legs even higher toward the ceiling.

"Open up for me," he hissed. He leaned in to kiss me, then lowered his head to spit on me again. We both watched the saliva string slide from my c**t down to my asshole.

Slap!

He brought his palm down against my p***y. The sting sent a wave of pleasure through me that made my entire body vibrate.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his eyes dark. "You like being my little secret?"

He stuck his fingers deep inside, pulled them out to lick the juices off, then shoved them back into my mouth. "Spit for me again, Daphne. Give me more."

I spit into his palm, and he transferred it back to my c**t, massaging it side to side until I was a wreck.

“Oh fuck.. Chris. I-I’m clos–”

"Not yet," he growled, undoing his belt buckle. "Get down. Get on your knees."

I sank to the floor, my legs shaking. I took his thick, pulsing d**k into my mouth, circling the head with agonizing slowness. Chris gripped the counter, his knuckles white.

"Daphne... stop... don't play with me."

I smiled against his d**k and continued my torture, dragging my lips in clockwise swirls and them anti clockwise swirls around the throbbing head of his d**k till it oozed with precum.

He groaned, his stomach hardening into ridges and grabbed my hair to hold me in place and began slamming into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat with frantic thrusts. He shook uncontrollably, muttering broken words before a hot, thick flood filled my mouth. He came with a force that made his whole body shudder, but even then, he didn't get soft.

“Swallow.” He breathed heavily and I obeyed

"Good girl," he whispered. "Now, spit in my hand."

I did as I was told. He took the spit and coated the entire length of his d**k with it. "Stand up. Lean against the counter. Ass to me."

I scrambled up, my heels clicking on the tile. I bent over the island, my forearms resting on the marble. I felt him behind me as he reached down and ripped the remaining lace apart, and spread my cheeks. He inserted himself with one long, heavy groan, bottoming out so deep I felt it in my stomach.

He began to bang into me, his pace relentless. I kept one leg up on the counter to give him the perfect angle. He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back as he slammed into me again and again.

"Is this what you wanted, Daphne? To be used by your boss?"

"Yes! Yes!"

I lifted my second leg, splaying into a near-split. He was losing his mind, his thrusts so powerful I had to take over, slamming my ass back into him.

"F-f**k, Daphne... you're... you're killing me..."

I was so close to my climax, I could feel everything tightening—but then the front door burst open. Claire stumbled in, but she wasn’t alone.

I froze, legs still splayed wide. Chris didn’t pull out. He gripped my hair tighter, his heart thundering against my back.

Claire’s designer blouse was already half-unbuttoned. A man I didn't recognize had his face buried in her neck, his hands boldly squeezing her breasts. They were so lost in their own world they didn't see us at first.

"Oh, Jonathan, not here, let’s go to the—"

Claire stopped. Her eyes snapped open and landed directly on us. Jonathan followed her gaze, his hands freezing on her chest. Claire’s face went pale as she took in the sight of her maid pinned to the counter, wearing her own red lingerie, with her husband buried deep inside me.

"Chris?" she gasped, her voice trembling with horror and a sharp spike of jealousy. "What... what the hell is this?"