My Parents Will Never Find Out

Sasha Sparrow leans over the resort bar and watches the bartender's hands work the shaker. He’s young too, maybe twenty, and he keeps sneaking glances at the small, bare breasts that her thin top barely covers. She tells him she just turned eighteen and wants something better than a drink to mark the night. The idea slips out between them—quiet, sharp, and filthy. She wants his cock in her ass, deep and steady, until morning if he can manage it. Toby swallows hard, wipes his palms on a towel, then nods. They slip out through the service door while the music still thumps behind them. In the dim hallway Sasha drops her shorts, bends over a stack of crates, and spreads herself open. He spits into his hand, works two fingers past the tight ring, then slides his cock in after. The first thrust is slow and heavy, but she pushes back for more, grinding until he’s seated all the way. He grips her narrow hips and drives in again, harder now, the wet slap of skin loud against the quiet corridor. Sasha bites her lip to keep from crying out and reaches back to spread her cheeks wider, inviting every inch. Each stroke sinks deeper, filling her until her legs shake. Toby keeps the rhythm, long and sure, until sweat runs down her spine and her breath breaks into short, hot gasps. She doesn’t look back, just rocks to meet him, taking everything he has to give.