Lust Party Bundle (Unprotected Delights)

by Nadia Nightside

  When she woke from her round of six or seven orgasms—there was really no telling how many there were, all in rapid fire succession just from the most surface exploration of her rich depths—she stumbled into the shower and finger-fucked herself again to another seven orgasms, one right after another in a hot chain of pleasure that curled her toes and made her scream at the top of her lungs.

  An hour later, she was already two hours late for work and Morgan simply didn’t give a fuck. She sent off another quick text to Lionel Powell, her boss at the newspaper The Edition, and told him she would need another half day before coming in.

  * * * * * *

  Morgan’s new six hundred dollar heels clicked happily along the pavement as she stuffed her latest round of purchases into the back of her sedan.

  Her new suit was daring, bold, and undeniably sexy. It was scarlet red, a tight jacket with a deep v-neck attached with two large golden buttons that seemed loose and easy to detach for ease-of-fucking. Beneath the jacket, barely visible, was a sheer black top clinging to the underside of her tits and only just covering her nipples.

  The skirt she wore was tiny and red, matching the jacket, slipping down her thighs halfway to her knees. If she sat the right way—and she would always make sure to—then it slid up so that part of her ass cheeks were exposed to any viewing her heavenly visage. Smoky dark stockings decorated the shining skin of her newly-long legs, matching the dark leather gloves eagerly clasping the cock-handling hands she now possessed.

  The young female clerk who had been helping her try on new clothes picked up outfit after outfit for Morgan—after a while, it was apparent the poor dear just wanted to see Morgan’s hot-fuck-me frame in as many sexy combinations as possible.

  Morgan couldn't blame her. She herself was sneaking off a quick chain of orgasms after every new outfit she tried on.

  After the fifth such outfit, Morgan started winking for the little smartphone camera the girl kept sliding under the door of the dressing room.

  Give her something to dream about. No doubt the girl was full-on lesbian now, if she wasn’t already before. Morgan knew, knew, she had that effect on women now.

  It would have been simple to convert a straight woman to full lesbianism with her beauty—like sliding a nut over a bolt, that easy. Something that had always belonged and merely needed to be shown how to attach.

  Maybe the clerk would post Morgan's amazing beauty to some website. Strangers all over the world could jerk off to her. The thought made her hot. She slid her fingers against her hyper-sensitive clit, imagining some man or woman pleasuring themselves in front of a computer screen or a tablet or a smartphone, thoughts racing with this person she knew nothing about getting their sweet bodies off at the thought of Morgan's body becoming ever sexier and more undressed.

  Morgan did not mind, at all, that her sexuality had expanded to easily, frequently, and exuberantly include women. It only seemed natural. Women were hot. They deserved a bit of hot lust as much as anyone. Why exclude them?

  The trunk of her car now was absolutely stuffed with new outfits. She had blown through more than a month of pay entirely on clothes. Within three hours of waking up, she had drained her savings of five thousand dollars to pay for dozens of brand new outfits, heels, and accessories.

  There was so much that she could be wearing. Why the fuck had she been spending all her time in such drab clothes and with such a full bank account full of useless cash, just sitting there?

  Although, it was fun when she found out she could simply take a few things for free, so long as the clerk was into her.

  That was how she gotten a brand new set of designer belts, retailing for close to a hundred dollars each, for little more than her hand sliding up and down the young teenage clerk’s cock behind the counter. He was obviously eighteen, his face still somewhat scarred by acne and his hair thick and loose, but Morgan didn’t care.

  In her mind, she knew she was a distant twenty-eight, but her body only felt three years old than him...and when it came to his cock, he was certainly not of a mind to protest their age difference.

  It was the middle of a Tuesday, and no one was really at the mall. So, when she walked into Cloud, the latest designer shop, it was just her and the clerk. His voice squeaked wildly as he greeted her, and Morgan just found that so cute.

  In less than ten minutes, she had her hand slid around his cock and was urging him to cum all over her tits. She had taken off her hot scarlet jacket, of course, leaving her heavenly tits exposed as she knelt before the young stud.

  “You’re so fucking pretty,” he moaned, hips thrashing as he emptied himself on her chest. “You’re so f-fucking pretty...”

  “I know dear.”

  As it turned out, she didn’t even have to wipe up the cum. Whatever had happened to her had made her skin happy to absorb the hot cum of strange men, leaving only a happy shiny trail from her neck to her tits and leaving her looking sexier than ever.

  And then, when his wits returned to himself, and he protested that she was taking too much, she made him cum again. That kept him quiet.

  Morgan would be the subject of every erotic fantasy he ever had again. No other woman would ever be able to match up to her. The poor soul would be constantly lonely, aching to find someone even a fraction as hot as the mysterious woman who blew into his life and stroked his cock for a mere ten minutes.

  The thought gave her a thrill, knowing she was ruining him like that.

  Morgan shut the door on her trunk, smiling at the memory, only a hour or so before. The clerk would be bragging about her to all his friends for ages. That felt good. That felt...right.

  She deserved to be bragged about. She was a hot fuck goddess, dressed to rock and roll with every cock man enough to step to her. Morgan licked her lips. It was time to go to work.

  * * * * *

  She strolled into the office close three in the afternoon. The brunette beauty had made a few stops on her way to the newspaper office—most notably, several bars with several men inside.

  Morgan, being a reporter, knew the strip of bars that all the lawyers, bankers, and other such high-rolling corporate fellows went out to in the middle of the day for lunch. Quite a few of these rich studs had offered to buy her drinks, and even more had given her their numbers. In a matter of hours, her love life had suddenly become more festive and exciting than it had in years. She had dates lined up for weeks.

  The thought of having some young, hunky stud wrapped around her fingers, begging to give her ever more cash and clothing and jewelry just to fuck her one more time made Morgan’s heart race. And she knew there was nothing stopping here. There really had been nothing stopping her before, outside of a lack of confidence. And now that her body was so spectacularly splendid, that lack of confidence had gone “bye-bye.”

  Of course, there was something else, too. Some sort of dark, heated energy she felt in her bones. Some inner-burning, a need for attraction, a need for attention, a need for sexual energy, a need for...lust.

  “Morgan?”

  Lost in thought, Morgan had been strutting merrily to her cubicle in the middle of the office. Before, she had hated such placement—being in the middle of so much activity, and so very many male gazes.

  And yet, now...now, the thought excited her. All those men looking at her. Wanting to take her. Wanting to pick her up over their shoulders and stuff her into a closet, tie her down and fuck her at their leisure. Wanting to breed her, fill her up with babies, make her their hot, bound pregnant cunt.

  Her cunt moistened at the thought of a man actually strong enough to keep her like that.

  With a soaking pussy, she turned to face Colette, who had called her name. “Hello dear. How are you this morning?”

  “Is that...is that you?” Colette asked.

  The young copy-editor and researcher wore what she always wore to work—tight blue jeans and layers of clothes on top to hide the abject skinniness of her frame: a hoodie over a sweater over a lo
ng sleeved t-shirt. Fingerless mesh gloves wrapped around her hands.

  “Of course it is, love,” Morgan smiled. Her voice was soft and low, a sultry whisper that spoke of dark candlelit nights and centuries of passionate lovemaking by the sea. “What do you mean?”

  A few reporters nearby had lifted their heads up above the cubicle, man and woman. Their eyes widened as they saw Morgan’s daring outfit—the tiny skirt, the tall heels, the thick bundle of her gorgeously glossy hair as it swished gently in the A/C. She soaked up their attention and, in turn, let their attention soak her cunt.

  But, Colette had to ruin it. The willowy brunette tugged Morgan by the arm and shoved her into a nearby office, emptied due to budget cuts.

  “You know what I mean!” Colette hissed. “You know exactly what I mean! Two days ago, I tell you not to go to that crazy party. I told you it would change you. And here you are, totally changed! You look...you look like some fucking slut, Morgan! What’s the matter with you? What—what are you doing?”

  As Colette spoke, Morgan had been stepping around the office, closing all the blinds very deliberately. Even though the cords were easily within arm’s reach, she bent over at he waist to grab them, showing off the long svelte lines of her legs and the incredible shape of her ass. Her hair, so thick and long, fell down to one side like a luxury blanket, the sort given out at five star hotels.

  “I’m giving us some privacy, dear. Isn’t that okay?”

  “A-and there’s that! That too! Calling me ‘dear.’ ‘Love.’ You never used to talk like that. I’m like a year older than you, besides! What the fuck is—”

  Morgan placed a gloved finger to Colette’s lips. “Shhh.”

  Colette, confronted so immediately with such an intimate gesture, appeared to be stunned into babbling. Morgan's tits pressed confidently on Colette's. The resulting shape was enticing and inviting, and Colette moaned as she saw the sweet crushed cleavage formed on her body.

  “What...what is...”

  “I know the problem here, sweetness.”

  The brunette bombshell’s voice had effortlessly turned into a symphony of succubine seduction, sliding into every part of Colette’s brain and soaking it in hot intentions.

  “Y-you do?”

  “Of course I do. You’re attracted to me. You’ve been attracted to me for a long, long time. Haven’t you?”

  She blushed furiously, looking away. “That’s...that’s not...”

  Morgan put a hand on Colette’s hip, clenching just right. “It’s all right, love. You can tell me. I want you to be attracted to me. Because I’m attracted to you. I really, really am.”

  Their lips were dangerously gloss. Morgan's were wet, glossy, and pink...and looking ever so soft.

  Her attraction perhaps wasn’t as specific as Colette’s—the researcher had been building her crush for some time now ever since Morgan had arrived at the office. Morgan’s own attraction had started the second she saw Colette that day, simply because available lust in the air turned Morgan on more than anything else in the world.

  “Really?” Colette’s face softened. Yearning, open and pleading, was obvious on her face. “You’re not just saying that? Because if you aren’t, then I—”

  Morgan cut her off with a long, sensuous kiss. Her jaw worked up and down, their tongues eagerly sliding together in the silence formed by their meeting.

  Colette moaned into the embrace, arms flailing outward for a moment before wrapping up and around Morgan’s body. Her hands tugged at Morgan’s tightly muscled back, running through her thick hair, fingers sliding hard into her scalp and shoulders.

  “Oh fuck,” Colette breathed after a moment. “No. We really...we shouldn’t. You smell so amazing. You’re like heaven and berries, oh my god. But we...we can’t. We have to...you’re under their influence somehow. We can’t just—”

  Morgan cut her off with another kiss, this time using her hands to unbuckle Colette’s pants. The skinny beauty melted before her, knowing where this was going. Her panties were ripped away, easily disposed of—Morgan was stronger than she had ever been, fueled by lust, confidence, and whatever dark power brewed inside of her.

  A small trail of downy brown hair led to Colette's pussy. She kept herself trimmed there. Morgan felt drool entering her mouth, looking at the juicy cunt already so moist and hot because of Morgan's disastrously hot body.

  As Morgan’s fingers slipped up into Colette’s beautifully tight pussy, she began to whisper in Colette’s ear. “I tell you what sweetling. I have an offer for you. A proposition.”

  “I...ooh, oh my god, ohfuck oh fuck you’re so good at that, you’re so good, you’re so-so-so pretty, so-so-so—”

  “Pay attention, darling. I’m trying to talk to you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Colette gulped, eyes wide with fervent adoration. “Tell me whatever you like. Tell me anything, j-just keep doing thaaaaaat...”

  “If I make you cum,” Morgan kissed Colette’s neck, knowing perfectly well she would already do that, “then you’ll come along with me to the very next party Braddock throws. And you can see for yourself whether anything is amiss or not.”

  It only made sense, in Morgan’s mind, to tell others about the party. For her, it had changed everything—made her entire life better and more satisfactory in less than a day. Why not do the same for Colette? She was such a sweet girl, crushing on Morgan like she had. Morgan wanted to do something nice for her. Morgan wanted to change her, to make her life hot and amazing like hers was.

  “Nnn—” Colette moaned.

  Morgan suspected the sweet darling was trying to resist. Her thumb pressed hard on Colette’s clit, an intense grin on Morgan’s face.

  “You don’t want to cum, baby? You don’t want to cum just for me? After all this time? All that longing? All that need? All those sweet, delicious nights you spent under the sheets wishing and hoping something just like this would happen? Won’t you say yes for me, Colette? Won’t you tell me what I need to hear?”

  “Y-yes!” Colette moaned, her volume out of control. Everyone in the office could hear. “Yes! Make me cum, oh my god, anything, please! Just make me cum!”

  Whatever dark energy burned within Morgan also gifted her with a natural understanding of just what a girl needed to have the hardest orgasms she possibly could. She applied that knowledge know, administering her fingers and thumb to Colette’s clit and g-spot with exactly the rhythm she needed.

  Moaning wildly, thrashing against Morgan’s sure, strong body, Colette came, her cunt gushing down Morgan’s brand new leather gloves.

  The two brilliant beauties kissed as pleasure overcame all of Colette’s senses. Morgan, having pleased her target, felt warm satisfactory thrills run up and down her body—the equivalent of an orgasm for her yesterday. Today, it was merely warm-up.

  “L-love you,” Colette mumbled, staring in awe at Morgan.

  She had just been gifted with the hottest, most powerful orgasm of her life. Her entire worldview had shifted. There was nothing she wouldn't do for Morgan now, no one she wouldn't lie to or deceive, no task she wouldn't dare. Morgan was who she wanted. Morgan was everything to her.

  Nuzzling Colette close, Morgan whispered into her ear. “I’ll let you know when I get the details, dear.”

  * * * * *

  “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

  Almost immediately after exiting the empty office, Morgan’s boss, Lionel Powell, had pulled her aside and shoved her into his own office.

  Colette was a hot, sweating, cunt-dripping mess, and would need an hour or two before her sanity all the way returned to her. She remained in the abandoned office, absently fingering her cunt while looking at pictures on her smartphone that Morgan had encouraged her to take. Morgan could pose like a model now with perfect ease.

  Her body was made sure showing off from top to bottom, so it was only natural that her flexibility and ease of movement could on board with the program. Her hair was so shiny, her tit
s so large and buoyant, her legs so perfectly long and sleek—every part of her demanded admiration at all times. Colette was practically required to worship Morgan from this point forward just by biology.

  Naturally, Morgan did not have a hair out of place, and if anything, she looked even more dynamite than she had before. The heated flush in her cheeks from the fingerfuck session with Colette only heightened the smoky gaze she put out, and the lesbian workout had built up a gentle sheen of sweat that made every part of her skin look even more delectable than before.

  “You mean between Colette and I in the office?”

  Lionel took a seat at his desk. Morgan had already noted that the blinds were closed. Lionel liked his privacy when he was trying to put out the final pages of their weekly installment of The Edition. His chair was tall and leather, the desk hard oak and littered with papers.

  He was not an exceptionally clean man. Morgan had regular fantasies of dressing up in a maid’s outfit and cleaning his desk and office for him. Perhaps she would be occupied with a stain on the carpet, and he would be overcome with lust after seeing her lack of panties, his brilliant mature cock so right as it slid right into her cunt...her unprotected cunt.

  There would be nothing stopping him from getting her so very pregnant...and then she would be able to raise his babies and suck his cock all day long like a good girl...

  “I mean all of it, Morgan. You come in six hours late for work. You don't even show up yesterday. You’re dressed like...well, there’s not a lot of appropriate words for it that aren’t insulting, so let’s just say it’s completely inappropriate. You’re—”

  She slid up on Lionel’s desk, crossing her long legs. She allowed herself several seconds for the motion, at least five to stretch one leg all the way out, and then another ten to let it gently and effortlessly cross high up on the thigh of the other. Her expensive new heels, strapped tight to her ankles, dangled precariously close to his crotch.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, sliding back in his chair.