Cold Feet

Mia thought she had it locked down. Wedding in three days, ring on her finger, future all mapped out. Then Jason showed up. Tall, dark, built like he owns every room he walks into. Her fiancé is pale in comparison, soft where Jason is hard. One look at him and the dress felt too tight, the ring too small. She told herself she’d just talk. That lasted until his hands slid up her bare thighs and found how wet she already was. He bent her over the edge of the bed, palms spreading that thick, round ass, and pushed inside without asking twice. Mia’s breath caught, then broke into low moans every time he bottomed out. She reached back, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him deeper. Her big tits swayed with every thrust. When he flipped her onto her back she wrapped her legs around him and held on, heels digging into muscle. The angle let him grind against her clit until her whole body shook. He pulled out at the last second, fed the head between her lips, and she swallowed every drop, throat working, eyes locked on his. She wiped her mouth, heart still racing, and realized three days suddenly felt like a very long time.