Tempting the Unknown Ch. 02

Almost a week passed, and what had started as a one-time slip became something close to routine. Ayla stopped thinking twice about sending nudes to Ken. The rule she'd set for herself--no full nudes--had been broken, bent, and discarded without much ceremony. Now, when Ken messaged her late at night asking for something sexy, she didn't hesitate. She just undressed, posed, and gave him what he wanted. And of course, he always tipped.

She had a secret file in her camera roll filled with soft, sultry mirror shows. Videos of her spreading herself open, fingering slowly, and deep. Closer angles. Wetter sounds. More of her mouth in frame, bitten lips, and flushed cheeks. Although she kept her posts teasing, cute, and alluring on her main page, she now had special content tailored for one man, and he paid well to keep it that way.

It became their thing. She'd climb into bed in nothing but a loose tank top or panties, already knowing the kind of message she'd get. He'd ask what she was wearing. Demand proof. Say he needed a photo to get through the night. She'd tease, play coy for a minute, then cave the second he told her how hard he was for her or the second he tipped. Fifty bucks, or a lewd image of his erect, throbbing cock. In a way, his nudes were a tip within themselves; she didn't mind.

Their sexts weren't shy. Ken described what he'd do to her in filthy detail. He told her how horny he was, how he wished he could pull her onto his lap, make her moan into his mouth. Ayla soaked it all in. She responded with her own messages, half-sarcastic, half-serious, written in a haze of arousal. Things often left her spent, her body moist with sweat, and her fingers aching with exertion. But always, she slept like a baby afterwards.

It turned her on knowing someone out there was desperate for her. That obsessed. That generous. She used to think of her followers as thirsty strangers. Now, she had a personal one. A real, filthy admirer. And she liked it. Maybe a little too much.

Even when she told herself to pull back, something about Ken's attention kept dragging her deeper. His praise, his tips, his raw need. It made her feel wanted. It also didn't help that she'd been single and hadn't gotten laid in a little while. Perhaps that's why she felt so inclined to give him what he wanted night after night.

-

Steam clung to the bathroom mirror as Ayla stepped out of the shower, towel tucked around her chest, damp, matted black hair clinging down her back and around her face. She casually hummed a tune from her favorite song to herself as she grabbed her phone from the counter, glancing at the screen, expecting the usual notifications.

One new message.

Ken.

"What are you doing right now, my gorgeous?"

A smirk tugged at her lips as she typed back.

"Just got out of the shower. About to get ready for my next post."

The reply came moments later.

"Shit... wish I could see that. Still dripping wet?"

Ayla rolled her hazel eyes, biting back a smile. Of course.

She eyed herself in the foggy mirror. She was glistening, towel snug around her curves, collarbone still beaded with droplets. She looked good, as always. And Ken's words had a way of making her feel hotter.

"You greedy bastard," she replied, snapping a quick mirror pic from the waist up--towel on, cleavage tastefully peeking, one hand in her damp hair while teasingly biting her bottom lip.

"This'll have to do."

But she already knew it wouldn't.

Ken responded right away.

"Goddamn... you're teasing me. C'mon, lose the towel. Let me see that pretty body while it's still wet ????."

Ayla stared at the message for a long moment, heart racing, her thighs clenching.

She exhaled slowly, her eyes narrowing, lips pursing as she reread Ken's message. The bathroom was still warm and heavy with steam, the air wrapping around her like a second towel. Her hand slid to the knot at her chest. She hesitated for a second, then tugged it loose.

The towel fell onto the floor around her feet.

She stood there, bare and wet, watching her reflection. Her nipples were hard, water still trailing down the curve of her breasts and hips. She brushed her hair back, cheeks blushed, and her thighs pressed together without thinking.

Ayla raised her phone, angling it so it covered her face. The focus was all on her body: the smooth curve of her hips, the soft swell of her breasts, the shaved mound of her pussy. Her other hand cupped one of her tits, giving a playful, suggestive squeeze.

Click.

She checked the photo once, her body fully on display, flawless, soft, provocative, alluring.

She quickly attached a message:

"Exactly how you like it, right? Clean, wet, and waiting ????."

And hit send. Her stomach fluttered as she stared at the screen, a small, excited smile curving at her lips. She could already picture his reaction.

Later that night, Ayla lay sprawled across her sheets, skin slick with sweat, legs still slightly trembling from the orgasm that had just wrecked her. Her chest heaved in shallow pants, nipples still sensitive. Her fingers twitched beside her, slick with her own release--a deep aching throb lingering between her legs.

Her phone rested near her pillow, its glow faintly cutting through the darkness. The screen was still open to her chat with him, message after message stacked high. There were photos, videos, and voice notes. Dick pics mostly. But not just that. Videos of him stroking himself, slow and heavy, his voice rough and gravelly as he moaned her name. She could still hear it now, still fresh in her mind from the most recent clip.

It turned her on more than she liked to admit, the sound of this mysterious, likely older man hungry for her like a starved animal.

Lately, though, things had shifted.

Ken:

"You ever wonder what it'd be like if I were actually there with you?"

"My hands on your hips, mouth on your neck... cock deep inside your pussy. I know you think about it."

"Come on. Why don't we make this for real? Let's link up. Just once."

Ayla just sat there, leaving the last one unanswered.

She took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her damp forehead. Her pulse hadn't changed since their recent lewd exchange. Her heart pounded, but not just from arousal. There was a gnawing anxiety crawling up her spine now.

Ken had started pushing this idea more and more lately. Meeting up. Saying it was inevitable. That a connection like this couldn't stay online forever.

But Ayla wasn't sure.

She barely knew who he really was. All she had were dick pics and videos, grainy shots of his lean body, and that husky, older voice made her thighs clench. Every time she asked about his real name, what he looked like, even what type of work he did to afford blowing all that money on her, he'd dodge.

It was like chasing smoke.

But some part of her liked it--the thrill of the unknown. Liked the way he talked to her. Liked how filthy and obsessed he sounded. Liked the feeling of pure desire tangled in their nocturnal exchanges.

But to meet?

That meant stepping out of the comfort of their distant, erotic game. That meant turning fantasy into reality.

Ayla nibbled on her lip; her gaze fixed on the screen. She had no idea what to expect if she went further down this path. Her body was filled with anxiousness and arousal; her mind was spinning from the weight of his carnal want.

All she knew of him was that cock... His big, throbbing, thick cock... His words painted a picture she'd come to crave, but still, he was a ghost, a stranger behind a screen.

He could live in the next city. Or halfway across the country. She had no idea.

And yet... something in her believed him. Or maybe just wanted to.

She knew he could make good on every dirty promise he'd made. She'd felt it in every moan, every word that made her pussy soaking wet.

Her phone buzzed again.

"Come on, all you have to say is yes, Ayla. I'll do all the heavy lifting. You don't have to do a thing."

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard, her pulse pounding in her throat as she contemplated his offer.

He prodded her with another message.

"Come on, baby. You know you want this ????."

"When's the last time you had a proper fuck?"

Ayla blinked, her chest tightening, her ears burning. She hesitated, but her thumbs moved before her brain caught up.

"Bold of you to assume I'm not getting any."

His reply came instantly.

"Oh, I know you're not."

"Not with the way you beg for me."

She sucked a sharp breath, her cheeks growing a deep red as she bashfully pursed her lips into a line. Her mouth fell open, trying to figure out how to snap back, but she failed to do so. Because he was right, god, he was right.

"Don't get cocky. You know nothing... dummy."

"You practically cum from just my voice. Don't lie."

Ayla clenched her loins, breath shaky.

"Well... maybe I'm just good at faking it."

"Then come test my theory."

He added a smirking emoji, then followed with:

"You want a proper fuck, Ayla. I can give you that. I will give you that. You need this. I know you crave the things I said I'd do to you. You want this big cock inside you, hm? Want me to claim that pussy? I'll treat you so fucking good, baby. Just give me a shot. I promise I won't disappoint."

Her thumbs shook, her cursor blinking back at her like it knew what she really wanted to say.

She bit down on her lip, her breathing shallow as she read his message again... and again. The way he said her name. The way he talked like he already owned her, like her body was just waiting to be claimed.

Her legs shifted, thighs rubbing together. She was already soaked again.

She started typing.

"You're so full of yourself."

Deleted.

"You don't even know me."

Deleted.

Her chest heaved with each inhale, heat rising up her neck.

She tried again.

"You talk a lot of game. What if you can't back it up?"

Sent.

A minute passed. Then another. She almost convinced herself he wouldn't respond until three dots appeared.

"I can back it up. And I will. I thought all those videos I sent would convince you otherwise. But perhaps I'll just have to show you myself. You won't even have to lift a finger, sweetheart. I'll come to you. Give you the dick appointment you deserve."

Another message followed, faster this time.

"You don't need to decide anything tonight. Just think about it. I'll do all the work. All you have to do is say... yes."

Ayla stared at her phone. Her body was buzzing with anxiousness and thrill, her head feeling light from how fast things were moving. She didn't even know his real identity, what he looked like beyond the videos and dick pics, and yet, somehow, it didn't feel like enough of a reason to say no.

She nervously fidgeted, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly, her mind racing. Her body ached for something real. It had been months since she'd had sex. She'd been so focused on her social media page. But now, he tempted her with what she desired, needed.

"I-I don't know..."

"I'll make you feel safe. I promise."

"And I'll make you feel good. You deserve that, Ayla."

The words sank deep, stirring something low in her belly. Part of her still screamed wait, be smart, you don't know a thing about this man.

But the other part of her, the part that had spent countless nights soaking her sheets with the sound of his voice and the image of his cock, was louder now.

Ayla lay still, her teeth sinking into her pillow. Her pulse thumped in her ears. After everything they'd done, everything they'd said to each other, things were crossing into the boundary of reality.

She typed slowly, still feeling her way around this tempting proposition.

"You're not some psycho, right? Not gonna kidnap me or... do something fucked up?"

The typing bubble appeared right away. She held her breath.

"No games, Ayla. I swear. No bullshit. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I just want you. The way you've teased me, the way you've begged without even realizing it... I want to give you what you need."

Another message quickly followed before she could respond.

"I'm not a monster. Unless you want me to be ????."

Her hazel eyes widened with pure lustful desire. It was exactly the kind of cocky, dirty thing he would say--but there was warmth behind it. Like he meant what he said, even underneath the vulgarity.

She blinked at the screen, her thighs subconsciously rubbing together as she took a deep breath and typed back.

"You better not be lying."

"I'm not," he replied. "You'll see."

-

A couple of days passed before they ironed out the details.

It was late, Ayla was in her bathroom doing her nightly facial routine, her hair damp and her skin wet from her recent shower, while her phone lay beside her on the sink. She was on the phone with Ken, making the final arrangements for their clandestine meeting.

"So," he said, his gravelly, mature voice coming from the speaker. "You still up for this?"

She paused only for a second. "Yeah. I mean... I thought we agreed on that a couple of nights ago."

"Good," he said, a low chuckle curling behind his voice. "Because I've already cleared my weekend. I was thinking about Friday afternoon. If I head out early, I could be there by two or three."

"That fast?" Ayla asked, clutching the edge of her sink, her bare feet shifting against the soft bathroom rug. She looked at her phone, stomach churning. "I haven't even told you where I live yet."

"I don't like to wait, baby," Ken replied, a smirk audible in his voice. "But you're right. Let's fix that. Send me your address."

She scooped up her phone, thumbs sweeping over the keyboard as she typed. Her address glowed in the message box. It wasn't like she hadn't thought this through; she had, over and over, in the shower, lying in bed, even mid-conversation with Ken while pretending to stay casual. But now that this would become real, all it would take was one tap...

She took a moment to think, her free hand idly cupping her face, her fingers squeezing her flushed cheeks.

This was it. Once she sent it, there was no undoing it. No pretending this was some dirty game with a faceless stranger. He'd be coming. For her.

Her heart pounded. She hit send.

A few seconds ticked by before the "delivered" status turned to "read."

Ken's voice came through again, that signature cocky tone practically oozing from the speaker.

"Well, I'll be damned. Didn't expect you to be so close. Four hours' drive tops if traffic is light. That's nothing."

Ayla sat at the edge of her bed in her towel, skin still warm and dewy from the shower. Her silky black hair was wrapped up. She held the phone back against her ear, her heart skipping slightly. It was happening. He was actually going to come.

"Oh, well, that's rather... convenient," she said, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness and excitement as she spoke.

"Yup, it's perfect, almost like it was meant to be, sweetheart," he responded amusingly.

Ayla sighed and rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You okay driving that far?"

"Four hours is nothing if I get to end up balls-deep in a girl like you," Ken replied with a low cackle.

"I'm not just okay with it, I want it. I'm already halfway packed. You've had me on edge for weeks now with those pics and videos. I'm done waiting, I need the real thing."

Ayla stood, pacing slowly across her room, her towel clutched tightly around her chest. "I never said you could jump me the moment you walk in."

"Oh, I know," he said, his voice dropping again, thicker, filthier. "But that doesn't mean you're not going to let me. I've seen the way you've opened up to me, baby. I've heard how breathless you get when I talk. You're ready. You want this just as badly as I do."

"I'm half tempted to drive over right now," he continued. "I'll be so good to you, Ayla. I'll give you what you deserve, and I'll claim what I earned."

Her thighs pressed tightly together slightly. She sat down again and exhaled slowly, staring blankly at her closet door. Her voice came out soft and wary. "Again, just to be sure... you're not some psycho creep, right? You're not going to show up and... like, kill me or chain me to a radiator or something?"

Kent laughed a deep, amused sound from his throat. "Baby, I'm not a psycho. You can trust me. I'm just a man who wants to make good on everything he's promised. You can trust me."

She snorted, despite herself, biting down on her lip.

"Mhm, right... You want me to trust you when you refuse to show me what you look like," Ayla mumbled under her breath.

Ken's voice stayed smooth, but there was a sly undertone when he answered, "You have seen what I look like. Just... not my face."

Ayla rolled her eyes again but didn't say anything right away. She adjusted the towel over her chest, shifting on the edge of her bed as she crossed her legs. He wasn't wrong.

"I think you'll like what you see when we finally meet," he continued confidently. "But I think I'll keep it a surprise."

Ayla scoffed, bouncing her foot in the air as she leaned against her free hand. "You're such a bastard. You better be hot."

"Hmm, but I'm your bastard now, aren't I?" he replied, unbothered.

An audible, exacerbated sigh escaped her lips as she uncrossed her legs and fell back against her mattress. "You're lucky I'm even letting you come."

"I'm lucky, huh?" he murmured. "Can't wait to show you just how grateful I am... every inch of me."

Her pussy quivered as wetness slicked her loins. "Cocky prick."

Ken laughed again, low and pleased. "I know you're eager, baby. Just a few more days."

-

Friday.

Ayla paced through her spotless apartment barefoot, her body dressed in nothing more than a loose, faded tank top with no bra and soft cotton shorts that rode up high with every movement. She kept tugging them down, only for them to slide right back up, especially over her hips. But she didn't change. She liked the way she looked in them. And honestly, she wanted to feel a little exposed today just for the occasion.

Her skin was still warm from her recent shower, fresh and smooth, with a hint of sweet scented lotion clinging to her. Her long black hair was twisted messily with a clip, a few damp strands falling over her cheek as she moved around the space, straightening already straightened things.

She was nervous. And horny. And pissed that Ken had made her wait all week like this.

No sexting. No pictures. Not even any real flirting. His only messages had been clinical and restrained. He said that he wanted it to be unbearable when they finally met, and he wanted her to be squirming and needy for him. She'd called him an asshole of course. A smug, manipulative pervert.

But... he was right. It worked. Worked way too well.

She glanced at her phone again. No new messages. The last text he sent was a while ago, early in the morning, informing her that he's leaving his place.

Ayla sighed and walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of cold water. She sipped, then looked down at her chest--her nipples poked against the thin fabric of her tank top, clearly visible in the light. She rolled her eyes at herself and smirked.

Everything was ready. She'd cleaned obsessively. She scrubbed every inch of her shower. Made sure her sheets were fresh for the inevitable mess they were going to make. Even stocked her fridge a bit, assuming he'd stay a couple of days. Though she wasn't sure yet, since he was still a complete stranger.

She had her nails done the day before. White, neat, and pretty. Her pussy was shaved smooth. Just soft, bare skin. Ken was a real stickler about that. And he made it very clear that they weren't using any protection. Raw or nothing. That alone had made her thighs tense every time she thought about it.

Ayla made sure to follow her birth control routine. She most certainly would not want to get knocked up by a man she hardly knew outside the internet.

She tugged her shorts down again out of habit and walked over to the window. The streets below were quiet, too quiet. Was he almost here? She imagined him--lean, older, confident, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other between his legs, hard, thinking of her. About all the things he'd do to her the second she let him into her home.

Her legs pressed tightly together, and she breathed out slowly.

"Goddamn you, Ken," she muttered.

She walked back to her phone and checked the time. 12:11 PM

Ayla plopped down on the couch, one leg under her. Her tank top shifted, exposing more skin. She didn't bother fixing it. Instead, she just stared at the ceiling and tried to calm her thoughts.

Then, the sudden sharp buzz of her phone snapped Ayla upright.

Her heart jumped.

Ken.

She snatched the phone up with embarrassingly little hesitation, thumb smacking the green icon before she even registered the movement. It was like her body had acted on instinct.

"Hello?"

"Damn," came Ken's deep, amused voice through the speaker. "Didn't even let it ring twice. You that excited to hear from me, baby?"

Ayla's cheeks flared a deep red. She stood up from the couch too quickly and paced toward the kitchen, switching the phone between her hands as she tried to sound casual.

"I was just... near my phone," she mumbled. "Don't flatter yourself."

Ken chuckled low. "Sure. So, where's my welcome party, huh?"

She chewed her lip, glancing at the time on the stove. Her pulse quickened.

"Wait. You're here? Where are you?"

"Woah, calm down, Ayla. I'm almost there," he said. "Maybe twenty minutes, tops. You ready for me, sweetheart?"

Ayla's stomach flipped. She leaned against the counter, biting harder on her lip as she stared out the window.

"No," she replied softly. "Yes. I mean--fuck. Don't say it like that, please."

Ken laughed again. "You're blushing, aren't you?"

"Shut up."

"I'm going to see for myself real soon, heh."

The minutes dragged like hours.

Ayla paced her apartment restlessly, arms folded tightly over her chest, anxiously nibbling on her finger. She kept tugging at her clothes, tugging at her hair, tugging at her nerves.

She was really doing this.

She glanced at the mirror near her door, checking herself again for the twentieth time. Everything was clean, candles lit, subtle music playing in the background to give the illusion that she wasn't completely losing her mind.

The thought hit her hard. She could still back out.

She could just text him something vague, say she wasn't feeling well. Or just call the whole thing off. He was a stranger after all. She didn't owe him anything. But then...

Knock knock.

She froze.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly tiptoed toward the door. She peered through the peephole, and--

There he was.

Just like that. Real.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her stomach fluttered, thighs tensed, and heat bloomed between her legs without warning. She opened the door.

Ken stood casually, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, just as confident as she'd imagined. Definitely older, late forties maybe, with peppered stubble on his strong jaw and sun-kissed skin. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, styled back lazily like he hadn't even tried. He wore a fitted navy polo that hinted at his lean frame, khaki shorts, and flip flops that somehow didn't kill the mood like they should've. His sunglasses hung from the collar of his shirt, and his smirk was unmistakable.

Ayla's pretty hazel eyes widened. He's a total dilf!

"Hey," he said, voice low and rough, his dark eyes roaming up and down her body with no shame at all.

She was speechless. She just stared, openly.

"Uh, wow..." she finally managed, her breath hitching. "You're... you're actually here."

"And you're even hotter in person," Ken replied, grinning. "Damn, baby."

Ayla didn't know what to say. She blinked, pulse racing, mouth dry. All those weeks, all that teasing and sexting, and now he was standing in her doorway, so real it made her legs tremble.

Ken cocked his head and smiled. "Gonna let me in, sweetheart?"

She quickly nodded and stepped aside, letting him in with an awkward motion that almost looked like a curtsy. Her heart raced as she closed the door behind them, sealing them in together. No going back now.

Ken's eyes wandered casually over the space--the tidy living room, the soft lighting, the faint scent of candles and vanilla in the air. "Hm, nice place," he said, his voice gravelly and smooth.

"Thanks," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she hovered awkwardly by the door. Her body buzzed from seeing him. It felt so strange and surreal. She glanced at the bag slung over his shoulder. "Um, here, I can take that--your bag. If you want. And... do you want some water?"

Ken turned to her slowly, his smirk easy and amused. "Nervous?"

Ayla let out a dramatic sigh, one hand on her hip. "Obviously."

He chuckled. "I like that. Means you care."

She rolled her eyes, cheeks warm. "Just... sit, okay? I'll get your water."

She disappeared into the kitchen, trying to ignore how self-conscious she felt with every step. She grabbed a bottle from the fridge and returned, handing it to him. Their fingers brushed, and the way he looked at her made her throat tighten.

"So," she said, sitting on the arm of the couch. "How was the trip? Long drive?"

"Not bad," he replied, twisting the cap and taking a long sip. "Traffic was light, music kept me entertained. Kept me thinking about you the whole time, so it went by quick."

She laughed lightly, crossing her arms over her chest, trying not to visibly shiver at how his gaze lingered on her legs. "Yeah, I bet."

There was a pause. Then she looked at him sideways. "Is... Ken, even your real name?"

Ken smirked again, his eyes glinting as she leaned back against the couch. "It is. First name, at least. You'll have to earn the rest."

She raised a brow at that. "Oh? And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

He gave a low chuckle, his voice thick with suggestion. "Hmm, I think you know how, sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes again, but her stomach fluttered. This was actually happening.

The air between them crackled, heavy with the weight of everything they hadn't said yet. All the dirty texts, the late-night calls, the lewd pictures, the teasing. Now it was real. Ayla stood barely a foot from him, arms crossed loosely under her chest, her cotton shorts tugged high over her thighs, her tank top loose but thin enough to leave nothing to the imagination.

Ken let his eyes drag over her slowly, unabashed. "So..." he began, voice low, "do you like what you see?" He cocked his head slightly. "Is it what you expected?"

Ayla swallowed hard. Her hazel eyes briefly danced over his broad chest, his lean frame, the rough, mature edge to his face. The age showed, but not in a bad way. She bit her lip and gave a small nod. "Yeah," she answered softly. "More or less... you're... handsome for an older guy."

Ken grinned, the kind of grin that said he already knew her answer. "Good," he said, getting up from the couch and stepping closer until she could feel the warmth of his body against hers. "Then maybe we should stop pretending like we're here for small talk."

Her cheeks flushed. She felt hot all over. He was right. The anticipation was unbearable. Now it was time to see if the reality matched the fantasy.

Ayla looked up at him, then reached for his hand, lacing their fingers. "Come on," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's... not waste any more time."

Ken didn't need to be asked twice. His grip tightened slightly as she led him down the short hallway to her bedroom. Her heart pounded louder with every step, but she didn't stop. Not now. Not after everything that had transpired between them online.

She stepped into her room with Ken close behind, her bare feet silent against the hardwood. She reached back without turning, clicked the lock shut, and let her hand fall from the doorknob as she leaned back against it, her chest rising and falling as she looked at the handsome, older man before her.

Ken's eyes explored slowly across the space--her bed, her mirror, the soft light, the familiar scatter of personal belongings. A slow smirk tugged at his mouth.

"Looks just like it does online," he muttered, low and amused.

Ayla blushed deeply. Her arms crossed loosely beneath her chest as she shifted her weight, suddenly feeling far more exposed than she had all those nights sending him pics from this very place.

She swallowed, voice quieter now. "So... how do you want to start? Fast? Slow?"

Ken didn't answer with words.

He stepped forward without hesitation and grabbed her hips, pulling her against him in one swift motion. Ayla gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his chest for balance, her heart skipping as she felt the heat of his body, the stiff press of his cock through his shorts grinding against her belly.

His eyes locked onto hers--dark, deliberate, and full of desire.

Then he kissed her.

Hard.

Their lips crashed together in a kiss that erased hesitation. No awkward lead-in. No fumbling. Just raw, wet, open-mouthed need. Ayla whimpered softly as his tongue slid into her mouth, claiming hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, slender fingers curling into his hair, pulling him closer as their lips pressed tight and her back stayed pinned to the door.

The kiss deepened, turned sloppier, louder. Tongues tangled. Their breathing became sharp and uneven as their bodies moved in sync. Ken's hands gripped her hips harder, tugging her against him, and Ayla moaned into his mouth at the friction.

Their lips broke with a wet, heated gasp, parting slowly as thick strands of saliva connected between them. Ayla's breath was heavy as she stared up at him, her lush lips red and slick, her eyes dazed with lust.

Ken still said nothing. He dipped low and began to kiss her neck. It was hungry and open-mouthed, moving down from her jaw to the soft spot below her ear. He sucked gently, then bit, and she moaned aloud, tilting her head to the side for better access.

His rough hands slid down her back, strong and firm, gripping her ass through her thin shorts and squeezing hard, possessive. Then, in one quick, effortless motion, he lifted her off the floor.

Ayla gasped as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her arms looped tight around his neck. She giggled only for the laugh to dissolve into another soft moan as he carried her across the room.

He tossed her onto the bed, and she landed with a rough, playful thud.

Her back hit the mattress, and she bounced once, hair spilling around her shoulders as she looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes. Her legs fell apart naturally, her soft thighs parted slightly by the landing. Ken stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at her like a man on the verge of claiming his prize.

"Hurry up and lose the clothes," she panted, her voice light and demanding.

He was already pulling at his shirt, yanking it over his head in one smooth motion, revealing his toned body. Ayla sat up on her elbows, already peeling her tank top over her body. It slid up and off, exposing her breasts, round, flushed, nipples already stiff with arousal. Ken's eyes dragged over her with a growl caught in his throat.

"Fuck... so perfect..."

Her shorts were the next to go, hastily tugged down her legs and flung about onto the floor. She was in nothing but her soaked, black thong panties now, barely covering the slick heat between her thighs.

Ken shoved his shorts down, boxers with them, and Ayla's gaze dropped immediately, his cock standing thick and hard, throbbing and dripping, just like she remembered from his pics and videos... only bigger. Real.

She bit her bottom lip, thighs needily rubbing together as she stared.

He smiled down at her with a look that sent a shiver straight down to her core. Without a word, he reached down to her legs and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her soaked panties.

"Let's get these off," he murmured, his voice low and laced with hunger.

He slid them down slowly, watching the damp fabric peel from her skin. Her slickness clung to the cotton, glistening in the low light. Once the panties were past her ankles, he tossed them aside and looked down between her legs. He fixated on the soft, bare folds of her freshly shaved pussy, swollen and dripping with arousal.

"Fuck..." he whispered licking his lips. "Even better in person."

He then lowered himself to his knees onto the carpeted floor. Ayla was sprawled on the edge, her hips tilted toward him, legs parted in a soft invitation. Ken settled between her thighs, gripping the backs of her knees and pulling her gently closer, until she was right at the edge of the mattress.

He kissed her inner thighs first, slow and teasing, before finally leaning in and dragging his tongue through her pussy in one long, wet stroke. Ayla cried out, her head falling back against her hands, clutching the sheets as her hips lifted upward toward his mouth.

Ken groaned, the taste of her sweet nectar making his cock twitch. His hands slid under her thighs as he mounted them onto his shoulders, locking her open for him. He leaned in again, burying his face between her legs with a deep, starved exhale.

His tongue moved with purpose, making slow circles around her clit, then flicks, then firm, broad licks upward from her entrance. He sucked softly on her swollen bud, then dipped lower, teasing her soaked opening with slow, deliberate strokes. Ayla moaned louder, her hips rocking against his mouth, her breath shaky and desperate.

"Fuck--oh god," she gasped, her fingers gripping the edge of the mattress now, knuckles white. "Ouuhhhh, Ken!"

He didn't stop. If anything, he only got more focused. He licked her deeper, slower, then faster. He read every sound she made, adjusting with every twitch of her thighs. His tongue circled, teased, then sank deep, his deep, guttural groans making her legs shake.

Ayla writhed on the bed, sweat prickling across her chest, her body trembling as she teetered closer to the edge.

Ken stayed on his knees, steady, devoted, his mouth working her over and over like it was all he'd come for.

Ayla let out a long, sultry moan, the sound catching in her throat as Ken's tongue slid over her again and again. Her thighs quivered around his head, and her back arched slightly off the bed, her breath hitching as the pressure inside her built to its peak.

"O-oh my god," she gasped, her voice breathy and needy. "Y-you're so fucking good..."

Her fingers slid into his hair. She clutched him gently at first, then tighter as her pleasure buzzed through her body. Her white painted nails grazed his scalp, her touch desperate, reverent, as if she were trying to ground herself in the moment as she spiraled out of control.

Ken groaned into her, sucking her clit between his lips and rolling his tongue across it in slow, sensual pulses that sent shocks straight through her core. Her body jerked, and her breath came in short, shaky bursts.

"Ah ah ah... ouuhh... keep going... right there... Nhg... ohhhh."

Her eyes fluttered, then rolled back, her mouth falling agape in a soundless moan as her orgasm tore through her. Her thighs clenched around his head, her fingers fisting his hair, her whole body tensing and quivering as she came against his mouth.

"Ken--fuck!" she cried, her voice breaking as she became undone.

He didn't stop. He kept licking, riding out every twitch, every pulse, cries softened into whimpers. He eagerly slurped up her gushing sweet cream as she quivered against his lips. Once her grip finally loosened in his hair and her breath steadied, only then did he slowly pull back, mouth slathered, eyes dark with satisfaction as he looked up at her flushed, shaking body.

Ayla lay there, panting, hair clinging to her face, legs still parted and shuddering. She looked down at him with half-lidded, dazed eyes, a helpless smile tugging at her lips.

He licked his lips again, savoring the taste of her.

Ken rose from his knees with a satisfied grin, his lips slick with her arousal, eyes heavy with carnal desire, as he climbed onto the bed. Ayla was still panting, her body glowing with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

He leaned over her, voice low and husky near her ear. "You taste so fucking delicious, Ayla."

Ayla shivered.

He took her by the hips and gently pulled her toward the center of the bed, sliding her across the sheets with ease. Her legs opened for him naturally, her skin still sensitive, her pussy glistening. She propped herself up slightly on her elbows, watching him between her parted thighs, dazed but aching.

Ken knelt between her legs and took his cock in hand, thick and dripping with precum. He pressed his tip against her folds and began to rub slowly and teasingly, dragging himself along her wet slit, up and down, letting the head nudge her clit, then slide lower to her soaked entrance before pulling back up again.

Ayla gasped, her eyes fluttering, her thighs twitching at the hot contact. She bit down on her finger, eyes locked on his cock teasing her pussy, so close but not in.

Ken grinned at the sight of her so needy and horny for him. He rubbed against her again, dipping his head just deep enough to give her a taste but not enough to give her what she craved.

"Ken..." she moaned, voice tight. "Stop teasing..."

She looked up at him, eyes glassy, soft lips parted. "Please. Give it to me... I need you inside me."

Ken's breath caught, his cock twitching in his grip. He groaned under his breath, lining himself up. "Alright... I'll give you what you want, baby..."

He gripped his base and guided himself to her awaiting slit. Ayla held her breath, her thighs parting wider. Without a word, he pressed forward.

His thick cockhead pushed past her folds, and then, he slid in.

Ayla's mouth fell open as a long, breathless moan spilled from her lips. Her hazel eyes fluttering shut, her back arching slightly off the bed. The stretch was deep, sudden, overwhelming. He filled her slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried inside her, completely.

They both shuddered.

It was more than just physical. It was the culmination of every filthy word, every late-night tease, every whispered promise through a screen. Now they were finally skin to skin, no barriers, no pretending.

Ken bottomed out inside her, his hip flush against hers, his cock pulsing inside her tight, slick walls. He groaned, his eyes locked on her pretty face, drinking in every twitch of her mouth, every tremble in her thighs.

They stared at each other for a long moment, both breathing heavily, sweat beginning to bead at their temples.

"You're so deep," Ayla whispered, her voice shaky with awe and need.

Ken exhaled hard, barely able to think. "You're so tight..."

Another brief silence hung between them before he leaned down, his body heavy against hers, and captured her lips in a slow, searing kiss. Their tongues met again, this time less frantically. His hips began to move, slow and deliberate, sliding back just enough before sinking into her again with a deep grind that made her moan into his mouth.

Her hands ran over his back, clutching his shoulders as he began to move in a slow rhythm, long deep thrusts that let him feel every inch, every stroke, every second they'd waited for this.

The room was filled with the sounds of wet, rhythmic bodies moving in perfect sync, smacking lips, breathy moans, and the soft creak of the bed beneath them. Every kiss was open-mouthed, messy, and desperate. Ken's tongue tangled with hers, swallowing her gasps as he fucked her with steady, deep strokes, each one landing hard and slow, pressing against her cervix until she cried out.

Ayla's toes curled, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Her back arched into him, every nerve in her body alive with heat. His cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, thick and perfect, pushing her higher with every thrust.

"Ah... Mnnh--fuck," she moaned against his mouth, her voice breaking, her fingers gripping his arms. Her whole body rocked against his, her pussy clenching around his veiny shaft.

He was already better than anyone she'd ever been with. Every stroke knew exactly where to go, how deep to hit, how to make her whimper and melt beneath him.

Ken pulled back just enough to look at her, his weathered, handsome face flushed, jaw clenching as his pace quickened. His hips began to piston into her faster, but still going deep. His cock slammed into her with wet, heavy thrusts, the squelching of their conjoined sexes filled the room.

Her moans pitched higher as her hands flew to the sheets, gripping tight. She was unraveling, loving every second of being utterly filled and taken.

Ken suddenly pulled back, his cock sliding out just enough to make Ayla whimper from the emptiness. He shifted, kneeling upright between her spread thighs, gripping her hips tightly, fingers digging into her soft flesh, and slammed back into her with a force that made her whole body jolt.

"OH! FUCK!"

Ayla cried out as he began to fuck her hard from above, his toned abs tensing, legs flexing with every deep, merciless thrust. Her boobs bounced with the rhythm, her dark hair splayed wildly across the pillows, sweat gleaming on her flushed skin.

"You like that?" Ken grunted, his voice low and rough. "This is what you've been aching for, baby? Huh? All those late nights thinking about my cock... Now you're fucking taking it like the good girl you are."

Ayla writhed beneath him, moaning helplessly, her hands instinctively reaching out for his moist, hairy forearms as he pounded her without mercy. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room, mixing with their ragged breaths and the desperate, filthy sounds of her wet pussy being fucked raw.

"Y-yes--fuck, Ken! Don't stop!" she cried, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes from the mind-melting pleasure.

He leaned forward, grabbed one of her legs, and hoisted it up over his shoulder, angling her open just a bit more, his cock hitting places she never knew she had, shattering her instantly.

"O-OHHHHH! Holy shit! Mhhnnnhhh! KEN!"

Her back lifted violently off the bed, her toes curled, her mouth open in a strangled scream. Her second orgasm crashed through her like lightning, her pussy spasming around his big cock, milking him as her moans broke into sobs of pleasure.

Ken grunted, deep and guttural, feeling her clench hard around him. Sweat dripping from his jaw, his body slick, the air around them thick and humid with heat, sex, and passion.

"Augh... fucking hell, Ayla. You're trying to suck the life from me."

He growled through clenched teeth, strained by the way she clung to him, the way her pussy squeezed and pulsed around his cock. He couldn't take it, he needed more.

With a sudden surge, he shifted beneath her, gripping her tightly and rolling them over in one swift, fluid motion. Ayla squeaked as her back left the bed, then landing on top of him, legs straddling his hips, his cock still buried deep inside her.

She didn't hesitate.

With her hair clinging to her damp face, her body slick with sweat, Ayla sat up and began to ride him without needing a word. Her ankles pressed to the outside of his thighs as she grounded herself, planting her soft, moist hands against his toned chest for leverage.

She rocked her hips, rolling them in slow, deep circles at first, moaning softly each time he hit that perfect spot inside her. Ken groaned beneath her, his hands roaming greedily, sliding over her plush ass, gripping it, then trailing up to squeeze her tits as they bounced in time with her movements.

"Fuck... look at you," he panted, one hand squishing her soft breast, thumb grazing over her erect nipple. "So goddamn sexy riding my cock. Just how I imagined you would."

Ayla moaned louder, her white nails digging slightly into his sun-kissed skin. Her thighs were shaking, soaked and slick, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Every movement made her more desperate, more unhinged, her eyes wild with pleasure.

Then, with a low growl, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her forward.

She let out a soft moan as her chest collapsed against his, their slick skin pressing together, the heat between them suffocating and delicious. Ken wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, locking her in place as he bent his knees slightly, planting his feet and started thrusting up into her tight cunt.

Hard.

Fast.

"Ouhhhh! Ah ah ah--uh uh uh! Fuck fuck fuck!"

Ayla cried out, her voice jagged and high, each sharp upward slam of his hips punching a gasp from her lungs. His cock drove into her relentlessly, deep and furious, hitting every spot inside her like he was trying to imprint himself there forever.

"Fuck! Ken--oh my god! Y-you're going to make me lose my mind! Hah! Nhg! Ohhhh!" she screamed, her nails clawing at his back, her forehead pressed against his shoulder as her body quaked in his arms.

He groaned against her ear, gritting his teeth, arms flexed around her waist, holding her right where he wanted her.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he growled. "Come on, baby... let me feel it. Cum."

Ayla couldn't speak; she could barely breathe. Her whole body shook as another orgasm tore through her. Her pussy spasmed violently around him once again, her cream slathering his cock as she cried out in his arms, legs shaking, nails digging in.

Ken groaned, breath heavy and body slick with exertion. Still buried deep inside her, he tightened his hold around her, then shifted.

With a fierce grunt, he flipped her again, rolling her onto her back, taking control once more.

Ayla let out a squeal as her legs were suddenly lifted and folded back, her knees pressed near her chest, her bare feet pointed toward the ceiling. Ken gripped behind her thighs, holding her in a tight, deep mating press, his cock plunging into her with brutal, relentless force.

Each thrust slammed into her soaked core, the wet slap of skin-on-skin filling the dim, humid room. Ayla was breathless, her hands gripping the sheets, eyes wide and glazed with pure ecstasy of being utterly dominated.

"Fuck--Ayla," he uttered, his breath labored, sweat dripping from his brow onto her face as he positioned into her faster, hard, more urgent. "I'm gonna gonna--fuck, I'm close--"

"Yes," Ayla moaned, writhing beneath him, her whole body pinned and trembling. "Cum inside me, please--give it to me, Ken, I want it--I need it!"

Her words spurred him over the edge and had his swollen cock aching to claim her once and for all.

With a primal moan, Ken slammed one last time balls deep and held there, his cock twitching hard inside her as his heavy balls tightened, his whole body shuddering as he finally reached his climax.

"HERE IT COMES!" he roared, his muscles tensing from the pleasure. "FUCK! TAKE IT!"

Thick, hot ropes of cum spewed from him, spilling deep into her pussy as she arched her back and moaned, feeling every pulse, every spasm of his release. Her walls clenched around him, milking him for every drop as he emptied himself inside her.

He stayed buried inside Ayla, panting, her legs still pinned back, his body spent from the intensity of their filthy fuck.

Ayla lay there, eyes half-lidded, completely full, claimed by a total stranger she met online. Her hips involuntarily twitched, the sensation of his warmth spreading within her, erotic and satisfying.

Ken slowly loosened his grip on her legs and let her down gently. With a deep exhale, he pulled out, his cock slipping free, wet and slick with their mixed arousal.

Ayla moaned softly at the sensation, her body quaking as his warm seed began to leak from her, slowly, dribbling down onto the sheets beneath her thighs. She lay there, dazed, completely spent, glowing.

Ken rolled onto his back beside her, equally breathless, his skin flushed and sweaty. He reached out and found her hand, lacing their fingers together, the quiet intimacy a sharp contrast to the messy, intense session that had consumed them.

They lay like that for a moment, breathing in sync, their chests rising and falling as they soaked it all in.

Then Ken turned his head and smirked. "So?" he asked, his voice rough, still catching. "Did I live up to your expectations?"

Ayla turned her head slightly to face him, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. "Yes... And then some," she whispered, cheeks still pink and rosy, legs weak. "You definitely weren't lying... God... I can still feel you in my stomach."

They both chuckled, the tension broken by shared laughter as they leaned in and kissed. Though this time it was something warmer, more affectionate.

Ken pulled back slightly and brushed a strand of her damp black hair from her face behind her ear. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm far from finished."

Ayla blinked, her heart skipping. "You're serious? After all that?"

"Heh, I said I make good on my promises, sweetheart," he said, his grin widening. "We've got all weekend. And I plan to make the most of every second. You're gonna be walking bow-legged by the time I leave."

She bit her lip, nerves fluttering in her stomach. But there was something else, too. Excitement. A spark that burned like she had never felt before, now that the mystery had become real.

"God help me," she said under her breath, giggling as she rested her arm on her forehead.

Ken pulled her close again. "Too late for that."

To be continued...