**Her Curves, My Sins**

I been stopping at the doughnut shop every day and there were a beautiful woman and I would buy coffee and a doughnut And I hang around talking to her and she had large breast i could tell it always would it like to sex with her and I knew I to young for her and and day she asked could I come to her house and help move some furniture and I told her I would and I went there and then

The first time I stepped into that little doughnut shop, she was already there—leaning against the counter with her back arched just enough to make the swell of her tits strain against the thin cotton of her tank top. The way they filled her curves had me gripping the condiment tray like it was the last lifeline. She didn’t even glance up when I ordered, just brushed her thumb over the back of her wrist and smirked at me like she knew exactly what I was thinking. "Black coffee, three sugars. And that chocolate-glazed old fashioned," she said, voice smooth as caramel, already memorizing my order. "You come here *regularly*." I did. For weeks. Always the same thing—extra creamy, extra long, those doughnuts that made my mouth water while her hands moved, slow and deliberate, over the espresso machine. The way her fingers flexed, how that low top split just enough when she bent forward to hand me the cup—*fuck*, if I didn’t know I was too young for her, I’d assume I was fantasizing. Then, one afternoon, she caught me staring again. "You like it here, or you just like the view?" I choked on my first sip. "You’re—" "—*moving furniture tomorrow*. And I could use a strong back. You got any experience?" I had *ideas*. Ones I’d been nursing for weeks. Ones that involved her sprawled out on that damn couch, her thighs quaking as I hoisted her onto the cushion with my hands— "Six," I said. "I’ve moved six couches." Her laugh was rich, her teeth perfect. "Good. Be at my place at two." She pushed off the counter, hips rolling, and the strap of her bra *shifted* just a hair, exposing a sliver of creamy skin where the tank top rode up. "And bring extra boxers. *Something* tells me you’ll need ‘em."

I stood in her doorway at exactly two, a paper bag of doughnuts in one hand and a six-pack in the other, the heat from the sun clinging to my skin like anticipation. The place smelled like her—vanilla, coffee, and something else, something sharp, the hint of sweat beneath cheap perfume. She answered the door in cutoff shorts that hugged her ass like a lover’s grip, the fabric straining over its full weight. A sleeveless top clung over the swell of her tits, damp already from the July sun, every inch of her exposed skin glistening. "Put those down, baby," she said, teeth catching her lower lip as she eyed the groceries. "I’ve got one of those newfangled *carts*. Comes with wheels and everything." I swallowed hard, the way her voice dropped when she said *"baby"* sending a jolt straight to my cock. The cart was in the living room, and that couch—deep brown leather, the kind that didn’t just accommodate weight, but *begged* for it—drew my gaze like a magnet. "Which one you want to start?" she asked, stepping back with a smile that promised the day wouldn’t end as it began. I followed, her perfume thick in my lungs, my fingers twitching. "How ‘bout we begin with... *both*?"

I set the doughnuts and beer down on the floor with deliberate care, then met her dark gaze. The cart rolled idle between us, half-blocking the way to the couch. She didn’t flinch when I closed the distance, didn’t retreat when my hands found the waistband of her shorts first, then jerked them down. Her legs shook, the lace edging of her panties barely contained what should’ve been my first target. "You sure about this?" she murmured, voice rougher than the morning, but her fingers were already splayed over the swell of my straining cock through the denim. I ripped open my jeans, freeing it before she could finish. "Wheels," I reminded her, breath hot against the curve of her neck as I hooked my thumbs under the panties and dragged them down smooth, glistening skin. Her thighs parted without hesitation, the couch looming behind her knees, the leather already worn thin at the seams—*inviting*. She let out a shaky laugh, then the heat of her mouth engulfed the underside of my cock, tongue swirling against my balls first, then pulling back to drag along the heavy length. She didn’t just tease—she *licked*, fingers digging into my hips like she needed the purchase to take me deep, her throat opening just wide enough to swallow. I groaned, pushing at her hair. "Stand up." Her free hands clutched the cart’s handle, then spun the whole thing back toward me. She straddled the front, bra cups already damp, the weight of her tits pressing into my chest as she leaned forward to capture my next breath instead—sucking on my tongue like it was a second dick. The cart wobbled under her. "Stable," I muttered, gripping her waistband and hauling her off. She landed on the couch with a thud, the leather swallowing her gasp. My mouth hit hers before she could protest, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for purchase. "Condom," she managed between kisses, before her nails dragged down my shoulders and she arched, tits heaving, the hem of her tank top riding up, giving me just enough space to peel it over her head.

And then she was completely naked and I stood there amazed with her naked beautiful body and my cock stood up hard as a brick

The tank top pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the damp panties still clinging to her hips. No fucking bra, just smooth skin and the dark pink buds of her nipples, hard as pebbles already begging for attention. I didn’t take my eyes off her tits long enough to appreciate the rest—her thighs spread just wide, the way the curls between them darkened with sweat, the slow rise and fall of her chest as she bit her lip and dragged her palms up her own stomach. My cock was harder than her grip on the cart’s wheel, but I stepped back anyway, letting her see the way my breath hitched. *"Fuck. That’s—"* She arched a little higher, thumb swiping across the crease where her tits spilled into her stomach, fingers twisting over the fabric of her panties, already damp with her. "You really never had *six* couches to move? Or you just never got *this* close to their owner?" I didn’t answer. I was too busy cataloging the way her ribs flared, how the faint scars on her collarbones made me want to kiss the hell out of them. The heat of her was rolling off her in waves, each panting breath pulling her belly tight, each rise and fall rolling her hips against the leather. She crooked her finger, sharp and impatient. "Get over here. You’re wasting time." Her nails grazed the tip of my cock next, a slow, deliberate stroke that had me cursing again. *"You like what you see? ‘Cause I’m *tired* of waiting."* I stepped forward, my palm sliding against the sweat-damp curve of her inner thigh, splitting the soaked fabric before she could even gasp. Her fingers clawed at my shoulders, but it was my turn now—my mouth buried itself against the slick, tight curls of her pussy, tongue parting the swollen lips of her clit first, then diving deep, her taste already familiar, the way her fingers twisted in my hair like she’d been longing for this as much as I had.

As I lick and suck her creamy pussy and then she you never had your cock in a woman and then she said I'm going to teach you how to fuck a woman

Her thighs trembled under my grip, nails scoring my scalp as she rocked forward, hips arching off the couch. The words hit like a physical punch, sharp and commanding—*"You never had your cock in a woman?"* That fucking smug curl of her lips as my tongue dragged deep enough to make her taste salty and sweet all at once. I groaned against her cunt, the vibration making her shudder. *"I don’t need lessons."* Her laugh was dark, rough. *"Oh yeah? Then why are you licking me like you’re scared I’ll bite?"* She yanked my hair, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to drag my mouth up her slit. My tongue flicked over the swollen knot of her clit, teasing the wetness slicking her fingers before she jammed them back into my hair, forcing me to take her in a kiss—sucking, open-mouthed, her thighs strung tight around my biceps, her cunt already pressed against the underside of my jaw. I didn’t answer. My hands went to her waist, fingers digging into the flesh just beneath her hipbones as I lifted her at once, dragging her ass to the edge of the couch. She gasped, but the sound was cut off when I dropped her onto the leather and pressed my forearm against her stomach, spreading her wide. *"Condom’s in my jacket,"* she panted, eyes locked onto my face. *"If you want it."* I didn’t move for it. Instead, I fisted my cock in one hand and slanted my hips, the head already nudging against the slick, hot lips of her pussy. She arched, but the move didn’t open her any more—her clit was still hidden between her thighs, the angle wrong, the pressure just enough to make her nails dig into the leather. *"Fuck—*oh*."* Her tone was all frustration, all heat. *"Use your *hands* next time."* But she didn’t stop me. She spread herself wider, her fingers finding purchase in the seams of the couch as I lined up and sank into the first tight, burning inch. *"Goddamn,"* she hissed, breath jagged. *"You’re* **already** *too fucking big."*

And i pushed really slow and then she said that's the way pushed it slowly and then I knew she was horny and dipping wet

The leather beneath her fingers skinned raw as she squeezed instead of pushing—just like I knew she would. I didn’t slow down. *"Is this what you need?"* My voice was gritted, the words more for myself, a fucking reminder that this was real, this was *her*. Her pussy clamped around my shaft, the walls fluttering like she was trying to hold me back before she admitted defeat. *"N-ngh! Just—fuck—"* Her hands slipped, nails still scoring leather, and her cunt drowned me, hotter than she’d been when I’d first buried my face between her thighs. The slow resistance gave way with a sharp gasp, her back lifting off the couch as she took another inch, another. *"Fucking hell,"* she bit out, but her hips rocked, greedy and desperate, like she was already chasing the next stretch. I let my forearm slide, pressing deeper into her stomach, the stretch still too tight, her breath coming in broken bursts. *"You’re—*oh fuck*—"* Every syllable was a curse, every thrust of her hips an effort to force me where she’d already been begging. I pulled back just enough to let her feel the thickness of the head, the shallow drag of my cock against her walls before I sank forward again, her pussy swallowing me an inch deeper with every push. *"That’s it,"* I growled, my free hand finding her throat, thumb pressed against the flutter of her pulse. *"Take it all."* Her nails came up, claws notched into the curve of my forearm, her voice raw. *"No—*you*—ah, you *fucker*, you’re gonna—"* The words dissolved into a shudder, her throat vibrating beneath my grip as her cunt finally eased, the first few inches of my cock buried inside her in one long, agonizing stroke. *"Shit. Shit!"* She was panting now, her thighs still strung around my biceps, her grip on my forearm the only thing keeping her from losing it completely. *"Move. Just—fucking *move*."* I didn’t. My thumb traced the hollow of her throat, slow and deliberate, my hips buried against her, every breath drawing her tighter. Her fingers flexed, nails biting into flesh. *"You’re torturing me."* That wasn’t a complaint.

As I moved in and out of her creamy cum on my cock its so beautiful and it was my time fucking and I love every minute of it

Her fingers spasmed against my forearm, nails sharp as she dragged them down before gripping my wrist like she was drowning and I was her only anchor. *"You’re—you’re fucking it up if you don’t *move*."* I let my thumb slide off her pulse, fingers tightening into the skin of her hips instead, forcing her open with every slow drag. The creamy coating of her pussy slicked my shaft, the heat of her slick cum pooling into the angle between our bodies, coating my balls heavy and sweet. Every pull let her slick walls flutter against me, her cunt trying to hold more as she whined. *"That’s—*that’s*—not—"* Her pussy betrayed her, clamping tight as I buried myself deep again, the slow grind stretching her out, forcing the thickest part of my cock to slide through her cum-slicked entrance. Her back bowed, nails scraping the leather, the sound high and keening. *"Goddamn, you’re*—*fuck*—*I’m* gonna*—*" I didn’t let her finish. I cupped her throat in my palm, thumb pressed into the hollow beneath her jaw, and dragged my cock out until only the broad, flaring head remained inside her. The move forced a choked groan from her, her eyes wide and dark, her tongue snagging on her lip as she bucked her hips, trying to pull me back in. *"N-no—*don’t*—ah!"* *"Too late."* The words were rough, my voice already dropping as I drove back in, her cunt swallowing the whole length of my shaft in one hard thrust. The wet heat of her clamped around me, cum spilling down my balls as I reamed her out, my hand still tight on her throat, fingers brushing the slickness pooling at the base of her cunt. Her fingers went to my shirt, nails digging in as she arched. *"Yes*—that—*fuck*—yes!"* The words were broken, breath already stuttering out around each one as I set a pace, fast and deep, the sound of her wet cunt filling the room, her cum coating my cock with every shift. I leaned into her, teeth grazing her neck as I fucked her. *"That’s right,"* I growled, my hips pistoning, *"take it."*