Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 550: Jack Wants Hannah’s Virgin Asshole?

"You watch this kind of porn now?" Another pause, her voice dropping to a purr. "I thought you liked those Japanese ones..." A slow, teasing laugh. "The ones I showed you..."

Hannah’s voice cracked, panicked, desperate. "I—I just—!" She swallowed hard, her fingers twisting in her skirt. "I like this now...!"

"Hannah..."

Haruna’s voice was a blade wrapped in silk—soft, but with an edge that promised to cut deep. It slithered through the phone, dark and intrusive, like she was reaching through the screen to wrap her fingers around Hannah’s throat.

There was something dangerous in her tone, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She wasn’t just asking a question. She was peeling Hannah open, layer by layer, exposing every lie, every secret, every filthy little thought she’d tried to bury.

The pause that followed was heavy, suffocating. The only sound was the faint, teasing drag of Haruna’s fingers against the screen—slow, deliberate, like she was tracing the outline of Hannah’s body instead of glass. "And don’t lie to me, baby."

The words were a growl, low and rough, the kind of voice that made your stomach clench and your thighs press together. It wasn’t a request. It was a command. One that said she already knew the truth and was just waiting for Hannah to admit it.

Hannah’s breath hitched, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her skirt. She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The way her cheeks flushed, the way her lips parted—Haruna could see right through her.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Haruna tugged Hannah down onto the bed beside her, her grip firm, possessive.

She arranged them against the headboard, a pillow propped behind their backs, their bodies pressed close. Too close. Intimate. "Come sit here," Haruna murmured, her voice a dark purr, "and tell me the truth."

Her free hand slid up Hannah’s thigh, her thumb tracing slow, teasing circles against the inside of her knee. Not quite innocent. Not quite accidental. Just enough to make Hannah’s breath stutter, her body tensing with something that wasn’t quite fear.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of sweat, arousal, and something darker—shame, maybe, or the electric charge of secrets unraveling.

Hannah’s chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps, like she’d just run a marathon or been fucked senseless. Her voice was a wreck—small, cracked, trembling with the weight of what she was about to admit.

"It—it was Jack." The words stumbled out of her, clumsy and desperate, like she was trying to shove them back in even as they spilled free. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her skirt, knuckles white, thighs pressing together as if she could trap the heat pooling between them.

"He said..." Another shaky inhale, her lips parting, tongue darting out to wet them.

"He said he was going to take my virgin ass." The confession hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Her cheeks burned crimson, but there was something else beneath the shame—a flicker of defiance, like she was daring anyone to judge her for it.

"So I was watching..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible. "To learn... how to please him."

I hadn’t expected Hannah to throw me under the bus like this. Not that it mattered. The damage was already done, the words out there, twisting in the air like smoke.

My cock throbbed at the thought of her—innocent, trembling Hannah—imagining me stretching her open, claiming what no one else ever had. The mental image alone was enough to make my grip tighten on Julie’s hip, my fingers digging into her flesh.

Then Haruna’s voice shattered the silence like glass. "WHAT?!" The word was a scream, raw and disbelieving, her breath catching so hard it sounded like she was choking.

There was a beat of dead silence—just the sound of Hannah’s ragged breathing, the wet squelch of Julie’s pussy as she shifted against my hand.

I didn’t look away from Julie. Her body was strung tight, every muscle coiled as she listened to Hannah’s confession. I could feel her asshole clenching around my cock, her thighs trembling as she bit down on her lower lip hard enough to leave marks.

A drop of precum leaked from the tip of my cock, smearing against her asshole as I dragged my fingers through the slick mess of her pussy. She was dripping, her clit swollen and throbbing under my touch.

"You like that, don’t you?" My lips brushed the shell of Julie’s ear, my voice a dark, velvety growl—low enough that the phone’s microphone wouldn’t catch it, but loud enough to make her feel every filthy word.

My fingers never stopped moving, tracing slow, deliberate circles over her clit, teasing her just enough to keep her on the edge. "Hearing about how I’m going to stretch Hannah’s tight little ass open... how I’m going to make her beg for it... while you’re here, spread wide for me like the good little slut you are."

Julie’s breath hitched, her body tensing before melting into the couch, her hips rocking in tiny, desperate motions against my hand. A broken whimper escaped her, her nails digging into the fabric beneath her.

She knew better than to make too much noise—not when Haruna and Hannah were still on the line, not when the camera was still rolling. But the way her thighs trembled, the way her pussy clenched around nothing, told me everything I needed to know.

She loved it.

"Aaaah—don’t..." she begged, but her voice was already breaking, her body betraying her as she rocked against my fingers. "Aaaah, hmmmmm—" The moan tore out of her, high and needy, her nails digging into the couch cushions.

The phone screen framed Haruna’s face in stark, unflinching detail—her dark eyes wide, lips slightly parted as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. She looked like she’d been struck, her usual composure shattered in an instant.

The camera angle was cruelly perfect, capturing the way her chest rose and fell in uneven bursts, the rapid flutter of her pulse betraying her at the base of her throat. She was beautiful like this—raw, exposed, unguarded.

Hannah’s words had landed like a blow, and for a heartbeat, something dark and jagged flickered across Haruna’s face. Jealousy. Pure, unfiltered, and sharp enough to cut.

It twisted her features for just a second before she forced it down, her expression smoothing into something saccharine, something practiced. The mask slipped into place, but not fast enough—I’d seen the crack.