Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 914: Hiding Behind the Curtain



Chapter 914: Hiding Behind the Curtain



Gabriela moaned triumphantly — voice wrecked and needy — covering the wet, choking sounds perfectly.


"Aaaaaahhh... yes... husband... filling my throat... so hot... so thick... swallowing... choking on your load... aaaah... thank you... thank you for feeding your wife... for letting me drink your cum... hnnngh... so good... so much... bubbling from my nose... dripping down my chin... I love it... love being your greedy little cum-guzzler... aaaah... more... give me more... let me gag on every drop..."


Samantha finally pulled back when the last pulse faded — gasping, coughing violently — strings of cum and saliva connecting her swollen lips to my cock in filthy webs.


She collapsed sideways onto the bed — trembling, wrecked, chest heaving — while Gabriela leaned down and licked the overflow from her chin, neck, and tits with slow, possessive strokes, swallowing every stray drop.


"Good girl..." Gabriela whispered against her ear. "You drained him... took his load down your throat... saved your ass... for now... rest... breathe... you did so well... such a perfect little cocksucker..."


Samantha’s thoughts — faint now, exhausted — drifted into my mind one last time:


[I did it... I made him cum... took it all... better than her... but... fuck... his taste... his thickness... choking me... filling me... I’ll never forget... never...]


The soaked panties blindfold stayed tied over my eyes.


The deception held.


And I — cock softening at last, still glistening with her spit and my cum — groaned low.


Samantha quickly stood up, legs shaking as she might collapse at any second. Gabriela steadied her with one arm around her waist, the other hand brushing sweat-matted hair from her face in an oddly tender gesture.


Samantha’s thighs glistened — thick white trails of my cum still leaking slowly from her swollen, gaping pussy, dripping down her inner legs in lazy rivulets, leaving shiny streaks on her skin.


She glanced down at her own panties — still tied over my eyes like a filthy blindfold — the gusset dark and soaked through with her arousal and saliva. Her cheeks flared crimson; she looked away immediately, mortified, as if seeing them there suddenly made the entire night real.


I spoke lazily, voice thick with post-orgasm haze, pretending I was still half-asleep.


"Wife... can you remove those blindfolds... now..."


My hand lifted slowly toward my face — fingers brushing the damp cotton — as if I was about to untie them myself.


Samantha’s entire body locked up. Panic flashed across her face — pupils blown wide, breath catching in a sharp, silent gasp. She shook her head frantically at Gabriela, mouthing no no no with desperate urgency.


Gabriela reacted instantly. She grabbed Samantha’s wrist in a firm grip and tugged her backward toward the bathroom door, whispering quickly under her breath.


"Husband, I’m going to the bathroom... You can take it off by yourself..."


She half-dragged, half-guided Samantha through the doorway before I could finish lifting my hand. The bathroom light flicked on — harsh and bright — and the door clicked shut behind them, leaving just a thin crack of yellow light spilling into the bedroom.


Inside the bathroom, Gabriela pushed Samantha gently against the tiled wall, out of sight from the doorway.


Samantha slid down until her back hit the cold surface, knees buckling, hands flying to cover her leaking pussy as another thick glob of my cum pushed out and dripped onto the floor between her feet with an audible plop.


Gabriela stayed in the doorway — half in, half out — keeping her body positioned to block any view from the bedroom. She raised her voice just enough to carry, sweet and casual.


"Honey... I’ll be right out... just need to freshen up..."


I sat up slowly on the bed — cock still semi-hard, glistening with spit and cum — and reached up to untie the panties from my eyes.


The wet fabric peeled away from my skin with a sticky sound, the musky scent of Samantha’s pussy flooding my nose one last time before I tossed them carelessly onto the floor.


I smiled — slow, lazy, predatory — directly at the half-open bathroom door where Gabriela stood.


"Wife... are you going to take a pee...? Let’s go together..."


The words landed like a bomb.


Inside the bathroom, Samantha’s breath hitched audibly — a tiny, terrified whimper she couldn’t quite swallow. Her hands pressed harder between her thighs, trying to stop the steady drip of my cum that kept leaking from her abused cunt. Her thoughts — loud and chaotic through the telepathy — flooded my mind again:


[He’s coming... oh god he’s coming in here... he took the blindfold off... he can see... he’ll see me... naked... leaking... full of his cum... he’ll know it wasn’t her... he’ll know I’m the one who sucked him... who took his load down my throat... who got bred twice... please... no... don’t come in... I can’t...]


[ I can’t face him... my pussy’s still gaping... still dripping... he’ll see... he’ll smell... fuck... I’m so full... so sore... but... god... if he looks at me like that again... I don’t know if I can say no...]


Gabriela’s smirk flashed — quick and wicked — before she stepped fully into the bathroom and pushed the door almost closed, leaving only a sliver open.


"Coming, husband... just a second... you know how long girls take..."


Gabriela’s eyes flicked toward the shower area — the frosted glass enclosure with its long, white curtain hanging limp and slightly translucent under the harsh bathroom light. She grabbed Samantha’s wrist again, tighter this time, nails digging in just enough to make the younger woman wince.


"Go hide there," Gabriela hissed, voice low and urgent, nodding toward the shower stall. "Behind the curtain. Don’t make a single noise... husband might come in here any second. If he hears you... if he sees you... It’s over. Move."


Samantha didn’t argue. Panic had already turned her limbs to jelly. She stumbled forward on trembling legs — thighs still slick and shining with the thick, creamy mess leaking steadily from her abused pussy. Every step made a soft, wet squelch between her legs; another thick rope of my cum pushed out and dripped down her inner thigh, splattering quietly on the tile with tiny, obscene plip-plip sounds.


She stepped into the shower stall — cold porcelain biting into her bare feet — and yanked the curtain closed with shaking hands. The fabric rustled loudly in the quiet bathroom, the plastic rings clacking against the metal rod.


She pressed her back against the far tiled wall, knees buckling until she sank down into a crouch, arms wrapped tight around her naked body like a shield. Her breathing came in shallow, terrified pants — quick little inhales she tried desperately to silence, but every exhale trembled out louder than the last.



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