My Forbidden Release: Alone in the Ruins of Paris
I’ve guarded this in my private locker forever. The Bibliothèque Nationale de France. My fortress. Naked after my wash, heat thick like a blanket. New clothes wait tomorrow. But tonight, skin bare, I crave release.
Books my only lovers. Pages on huntresses, ancient women. Strong bodies, free. I flip open the illustrated tome. Gravures hit hard. First, her. Spear raised, naked fury. Heavy breasts thrust out, dark nipples hard. Bush thick between spread thighs. Legs planted firm. Heat floods me. My hand slips down. Fingers tangle in my coarse pubes. I sigh.
The Breaking Point
She’s real. Alive on paper. My cheeks burn. I part my legs wider. Air heavy with my scent. Woman smell. Musky. Ready. Thumb brushes my swollen clit. It throbs. I pinch my left nipple. Hard brown peak. Pulls tight. Pleasure spikes low. Other fingers probe my slit. Wet. Hot. Index dives in, then middle. Slow thrust. In and out. Book stays open.
Next page. Woman bent forward. Picking plants. Ass round, perfect. Back muscled. Side boob curves heavy. My breasts mirror hers. Full, firm. Too big for climbs, but tonight? Mine. I squeeze one. Roll the nipple. Down below, fingers pump faster. Juices coat my hand. Sloppy sounds. Quiet moans escape. Heart races. Adrenaline surges. This is mine. Hidden. Shared now with you.
The Raw Surrender
Couple next. Her cross-legged, nude. Him in skin loincloth. Eyes locked on his bulge? Imagination runs wild. My pussy clenches on my fingers. Deeper. Curl them inside. Hit that spot. Breath hitches. Sweat beads on skin. Thighs tremble. Build it. Higher. This time, maybe.
Malemort. Always stops here. Edge so close. Body screams for orgasm. But no. Frigid curse. Desire burns, pleasure teases, release denies. Fingers slow. I rub gentle now. Soothe the ache. Waves of calm wash over. Tension eases. Breasts soften. Nipples ease. Pubes slick, fingers withdraw. Taste my salt on them. Bitter. Real.
Book closes. Naked body cools. Mind lightens. Fears fade. Lucien’s screams, wolves’ howls—distant. I’m sated in frustration. Secret spilled. Vault locks again. But you know now. My raw truth. Pulse still thrums. Tomorrow, hunter again. Tonight, woman.
