Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 908: Blindfolded by Her Soaked Panties

Samantha stared at Gabriela, lips parted in stunned silence. "This... I..."

Gabriela immediately pressed a single finger to Samantha’s lips — soft but firm — silencing her with a gentle shhh. Her eyes locked on Samantha’s, dark and commanding beneath the tears and smug smile.

"Not a sound," Gabriela breathed, voice barely audible. "He’s dreaming... let him dream."

Samantha’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but she didn’t pull away. Gabriela’s hands moved with deliberate slowness — reverent almost — sliding up Samantha’s arms to the top button of her housekeeping polo.

One button at a time, the fabric parted. Pale skin, faint freckles across her collarbone, the simple black bra coming into view.

Samantha’s nipples were already straining against the thin cups, betraying how wet and ready her body had become.

Gabriela leaned in, lips brushing Samantha’s ear.

"Don’t worry... no one will know. Not him. Not your boyfriend. Not the hotel. Just us... just tonight."

She slipped the polo off Samantha’s shoulders, letting it fall silently to the carpet. Then her fingers found the clasp of the bra — a quiet click — and the straps slid down. Full breasts spilled free, nipples dark and tight, goosebumps rising instantly on Samantha’s skin.

Samantha’s breath hitched, arms instinctively crossing to cover herself, but Gabriela gently pulled them away.

"Beautiful..." Gabriela whispered, voice thick with genuine hunger. "So much prettier than you think."

Her hands dropped lower, hooking into the waistband of Samantha’s panties. She tugged them down inch by inch — slow enough that Samantha could feel every millimeter of exposure.

The fabric peeled away from her soaked pussy with a soft, wet sound. A thick string of arousal stretched and snapped between the crotch and her smooth lips.

The panties landed at Samantha’s ankles — black cotton, the gusset dark and glistening, heavy with her scent.

Gabriela knelt for a moment, picking them up reverently. She brought the soaked fabric to her nose and inhaled deeply — loud enough for Samantha to hear, shameless and deliberate.

Samantha’s eyes went wide, a shocked gasp escaping before she could stop it. Her face flamed scarlet; her thighs clenched together instinctively.

Gabriela smiled — wicked, tender — and stood again.

"Smells like you need this too," she murmured, holding the damp panties up like a prize.

Samantha couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

Gabriela turned to the bed. She leaned over me — careful, loving — and cupped my face softly in both hands. My eyes stayed closed, breathing slow and even.

I murmured — low, sleepy, perfect pretend — "Wife... I... want more..."

Gabriela’s breath caught. She looked back at Samantha with shining eyes.

"See? He’s dreaming of us... of relief..."

Without another word, she pressed Samantha’s soaked panties over my eyes — folding the wet gusset right across my nose and mouth.

The warm, musky fabric clung to my skin; the scent of her arousal flooded my senses instantly. She tied the legs in a loose knot behind my head — blindfolding me with another woman’s drenched underwear.

The humiliation was immediate and electric.

Gabriela leaned down, lips brushing my ear.

"Husband... wake up..."

She said it loud enough for Samantha to hear, but soft enough to feel intimate — like a secret command.

My "eyes" fluttered beneath the wet fabric — not opening, just enough movement to sell the illusion of slowly stirring from sleep.

I groaned low, voice rough and thick.

"Mmm... wife... what are you...?"

Gabriela climbed onto the bed beside me, naked body pressing against my side. One hand stroked my chest; the other reached over and guided Samantha’s trembling thigh to straddle my hips again.

"Just a dream, husband," Gabriela whispered, loud enough for both of us to hear. "A very good dream... keep your eyes closed... let your wife take care of everything..."

Gabriela pulled Samantha down with firm, guiding hands on her hips — lowering her inch by inch until the dripping head of my cock kissed the slick entrance of Samantha’s pussy through the last thin barrier of the bunched sheet. The wet heat enveloped me instantly — hotter, tighter, different — but I kept the illusion perfect.

I groaned low, pretending full sleep-haze confusion, hands sliding up to grip Samantha’s narrow waist — fingers digging into soft flesh like I was claiming my "wife" again.

"Aaaaaaaaaah... fuck... wife... why are you clenching your pussy so tightly... aaah... so fucking tight tonight... squeezing me like you never want to let go..."

Samantha’s whole body jolted at the sudden depth — my cock spearing halfway inside her in one slow, upward thrust. Her eyes flew wide, a strangled scream building in her throat. Both hands flew to her mouth, clamping down hard to muffle it — palms pressed flat over her lips, fingers white-knuckled, tears of overwhelmed shock already welling in her eyes.

But Gabriela was ready.

She leaned in close behind Samantha — naked tits pressing against the younger woman’s back, one arm wrapping around her waist to hold her steady, the other sliding up to gently pry one of Samantha’s hands away just enough to let a controlled moan escape.

"Aaaaaaah... It’s all your fault..." Gabriela moaned loudly in Samantha’s place — voice pitched perfectly to sound like her own wrecked, needy cries from earlier.

"Who told you not to hold back... aaah... It’s because my pussy has swollen down there... that’s why it has become so tight... so fucking tight around your cock... hnnngh..."

"You fucked me too hard tonight... stretched me... beat me raw... now every time you push in it grips you like a vice... aaaah... don’t stop... keep going... punish your wife’s poor swollen cunt... make it hurt so good..."

Samantha’s muffled whimper vibrated against her own palm — body shaking violently as I bucked up again, driving deeper, bottoming out with a wet slap of skin on skin. Her walls fluttered and clenched involuntarily around me — impossibly tight from nerves and arousal — milking my cock in desperate spasms.

I growled low in my throat, hands clamping tighter around Samantha’s slim waist — fingers digging into her softer, narrower hips with bruising force.

She was lighter than Gabriela, easier to lift and slam down, her body lacking the fuller curves and heavier bounce I was used to.

Every upward thrust met less resistance; her frame jolting like she weighed nothing, tits jiggling smaller and higher than Gabriela’s heavier breasts.

I didn’t say a word about it — just let the difference fuel the illusion, pretending harder that this tight, trembling pussy was my wife’s swollen, abused one.

"Fuck... wife... You feel so light tonight... like you’re floating on my cock... aaah... but still gripping me so damn tight... what’s got you shaking like this? You’re spasming already... clenching like you’re scared I’ll pull out..."

Samantha’s eyes rolled back completely — lids fluttering wildly — as another deep thrust bottomed out inside her. Her hands stayed clamped over her mouth, palms slick with her own saliva now, but the choked squeaks and whimpers kept escaping anyway — high, frantic little sounds she couldn’t fully trap.

Her hips jerked forward involuntarily, grinding her clit against my pubic bone on every downstroke, pussy walls fluttering and spasming in frantic waves around my cock.

The contrast was obscene: where Gabriela’s cunt would have been looser, slicker, more swollen and greedy from hours of abuse, Samantha’s was tight in comparison, clenching like it was trying to strangle me with every involuntary ripple.