Chapter 13: Rocking with Mrs Elora (R-18)
Downstairs, the brothel was a riot of noise and life. The ground floor pulsed with loud music, bass thumping through the walls as people danced under flashing lights, their laughter and shouts blending into a wild hum.
But up here on the third floor, it was a different world—silent, reserved, like we'd slipped into a secret pocket of the night.
The opera music drifted soft and slow through the air, a haunting melody that wrapped around us, while the dim red lights hung low, casting a sultry glow over the room, painting shadows across the plush carpet and the tangled sheets.
I fucked Mrs. Elora on the bed, our bodies naked, skin sliding against skin with every move. The heat of her pressed into me, slick with sweat, her curves yielding under my weight.
"Ahhh... yeahh... ahhh..." she moaned, her voice rising and falling, raw and needy, every time I thrust my hardened dick deep inside her pussy. Her wet warmth gripped me, pulling me in, and I could feel every inner wall of her pussy around my dick, tight and trembling.
"Arghh... arghh..." I groaned back, my hips rocking steady, driving into her as the pleasure coiled tight in my gut.
Her soft boobs flattened against my chest, warm and full, their nipples brushing my skin with every thrust. I dipped my head, kissing her neck—slow, hungry kisses, my lips smooching the tender curve where her pulse raced. Then I sucked harder, tasting the salt of her, grazing her with my teeth just enough to make her gasp.
Her eyes fluttered shut, lost in the double hit of it—my mouth on her neck, my dick filling her hole below. Her hands slid to my shoulders, then one crept up to grip my neck, holding me there as she spread her legs wider, heels digging into the mattress.
It opened her up more, giving me room to keep going, to fuck her deeper, the wet slap of our bodies mixing with the opera's mournful notes.