Chapter 952: Gabriela Calls Samantha

I reached up—gently but firmly—and took her hand in both of mine, squeezing.

"Be good..." I said, voice low, serious, and laced with that caring tone she couldn’t resist. "Go rest. Eat something real. Sleep. I promise I’ll call if I need you. You’ve done more than enough."

Yuko’s eyes shimmered—tears threatening—but she nodded slowly, reluctantly.

"O-okay... but... promise you’ll rest too... no more accidents..."

I smiled—soft, reassuring. "Promise."

She hesitated one last heartbeat—then leaned in and pressed a shy, feather-light kiss to my forehead.

"Get better... quickly..."

Then she turned—head down—and walked out, shoulders hunched, following Julie and the others toward the elevator.

The door closed behind them.

Silence settled over the suite—thick, heavy, intimate.

I waited ten full seconds—counting each one in my head—listening to the elevator ding and descend until the hallway fell silent again.

Only then did I exhale slowly, letting the tension bleed out of my shoulders as I leaned back against the plush headboard of the presidential suite’s king bed. The room was quiet now, save for the low hum of the city far below the windows and the faint wet

drip-drip

of Gabriela’s leaking pussy still marking the sheets beneath her.

Gabriela was still here—standing near the foot of the bed, legs trembling, skirt clinging to her thighs in dark, sticky patches where my cum continued to ooze out of her stuffed cunt with every small shift of her weight. Her massive tits strained against the half-buttoned blouse, nipples dark and swollen, poking through the damp fabric like they were still aching from Julie’s earlier abuse.

Sweat glistened on her collarbone; her hair was slightly disheveled from being pulled and ridden. She looked wrecked—beautifully, shamelessly wrecked—and she hadn’t even tried to clean herself up.

I looked at her—slow, deliberate—and let my voice drop low.

"Wife... what happened to Samantha?"

Gabriela’s breath hitched. She stepped closer—legs still shaky—until her knees brushed the edge of the mattress. Her eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide from the lingering high of being double-teased and filled.

She swallowed once, then spoke softly, voice husky and obedient.

"I did what my husband asked... I explained to her... that after she fainted... I replaced her... and you didn’t find out the truth..."

Her fingers twisted in the hem of her skirt—nervous, guilty, aroused all at once.

"She was... shocked at first. Confused. Then... disappointed. Angry, maybe."

She bit her lower lip, cheeks flushing darker.

"I could see it in her eyes... she was jealous. Really jealous. She must be thinking of you, husband... imagining what we just did... imagining your cock inside me instead of her... filling me until I overflow... while she’s left wondering why she wasn’t enough..."

I chuckled—low and dark—reaching out to pull her closer by the waist until she was forced to straddle my lap again. Her soaked pussy pressed against my still-hard cock through the thin gown, the wet heat of her leaking cunt soaking the fabric instantly.

"You did a good job," I murmured, cupping her face and kissing her deeply—slow, possessive, tasting the faint salt of her earlier tears and sweat. My tongue claimed her mouth until she whimpered into the kiss, hips rocking instinctively against me.

When I pulled back, her lips were swollen, eyes dazed.

I chuckled again—darker this time—my hands sliding down to grip her thick ass cheeks, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp and grind down harder.

"I especially chose this hotel..." I said slowly, voice dropping to a growl. "Let’s call Samantha in. Make some excuse... tell her I need to see her... that it’s urgent... that I’m still recovering and want to talk privately. I want to see what she’ll do."

Gabriela’s eyes widened—shock, arousal, a flicker of jealousy flashing across her face.

"You... you want her here? Now? After... after what we just did... while I’m still dripping with your cum...?"

I nodded—thumb brushing her swollen lower lip.

"Exactly. I want her to see you like this... flushed... leaking... tits still out, nipples hard from being pinched and sucked... skirt wet with my load running down your thighs... I want her to smell it... to know exactly what I’ve been doing to my big-titted wife while she was waiting."

Gabriela whimpered—half mortified, half unbearably turned on—her pussy clenching visibly against my cock, pushing out another thick glob of cum that soaked through my gown.

"Aaah... Jack... that’s so cruel... so mean... bringing her here... making her see me like this... ruined... bred... still full of you... nnh... she’ll be so jealous... so humiliated... oh god... my pussy’s throbbing just thinking about it... please... call her... make her come... let her watch you bully me again... let her see how much better I take your cock..."

She chuckled breathlessly—low and wicked—then reached for the landline on the nightstand with shaking fingers. She dialed the front desk, voice husky but steady.

"Front desk? This is the presidential suite... can you please contact Samantha... yes, the guest who was asking about Jack earlier... tell her he needs to see her urgently. He’s... recovering... and wants her help with something private. Thank you."

She hung up—then looked at me with dark, hungry eyes.

"She’ll be here soon... probably running... thinking you need her... only to walk in and see me... dripping your cum... tits out... skirt ruined... smelling like your breeding session... aaah... Jack... I’m already getting wetter just thinking about her face when she realizes... she lost you... I took her place... and I’m still full of you..."

I grinned—pulling her down for another hard kiss, hands kneading her ass as she ground against me.

Gabriela pulled back—panting—then stood on trembling legs.

"I’m going to wash up... you deal with Samantha..."

She didn’t wait for permission.

Right there—standing at the foot of the bed—she started stripping.

First, the blouse—buttons popping open one by one until it fell from her shoulders, revealing the massive, heavy tits still red from pinching and sucking, nipples swollen and glistening. They bounced free—heavy, pendulous, swaying with every breath.

Then the skirt—unzipped and shoved down her hips, pooling at her ankles in a wet heap. Her panties were ruined—crotch soaked through with cum and squirt, clinging obscenely to her swollen pussy lips.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and peeled them down slowly—revealing her dripping cunt in full view: lips puffy and dark, inner folds coated in thick white cream, a steady stream of my load leaking out and running down her inner thighs in slow, creamy trails.

She stepped out of the panties—leaving them on the floor in a soaked puddle—then turned toward the bathroom, completely naked.

Her ass jiggled with every step—red handprints still visible from my earlier smacks. Cum dripped steadily from her stuffed pussy—plip... plip... plip—leaving a glistening trail across the carpet like breadcrumbs leading to the bathroom door.