Chapter 101 - A Virgin Who Lied About Her Experience

Her body crashed against Raven’s. His free arm wrapped around her waist, hand immediately dropping to grab a handful of her ass through her pencil skirt. The fabric was tight, stretched across her curves, and his fingers dug in possessively. Groping. Claiming.

"W-wait—" Priya’s hands came up, pressing against his chest. "I don’t—I’m not—"

Raven silenced her with his mouth.

The kiss was violent. Consuming. His lips crashed against hers with enough force to make her head snap back. His tongue invaded immediately, not asking for permission, just taking. Claiming. Tasting.

Priya’s eyes went wide. Then they fluttered. Then they started to roll back.

"Mmph—! Mmmnh—!"

Her protests turned to muffled moans almost instantly. Her body went rigid for one heartbeat, two—and then she melted. Just collapsed against him, her hands that had been pushing suddenly clutching at his shoulders for support.

Raven’s hand on her ass squeezed harder. Pulled her tighter. His other hand released her hair only to slide down her back, possessive and rough, before joining the first in grabbing both cheeks and lifting.

Priya’s feet left the floor.

"Mmh—!"

Her legs came up instinctively, wrapping around his waist like she was a koala clinging to a tree. Her pencil skirt rode up around her hips, exposing her thighs, the edge of her panties. She was completely off the ground, supported only by his hands under her ass and the arm of muscle she was clinging to.

The kiss never broke.

Their tongues wrestled. Saliva dripped from the corner of Priya’s mouth. Her body trembled in his grip, small shivers that ran from her shoulders down to her toes. The hand groping her ass shifted, fingers pressing into the crack through her skirt, and she whimpered into his mouth.

Clara and Sophia stared.

His cock was right there between them. Still hard. Still leaking. Demanding attention.

And below it, pressed tight against his lower abs where Priya’s body wrapped around him, they could see the dark wet patch spreading across her panties.

She was dripping.

Completely soaked.

The evidence of her arousal leaked down the inside of her thighs, leaving trails that caught the light.

"Oh my god," Sophia breathed. "She’s—she’s so wet—"

Clara felt her own pussy clench in response. The ache was unbearable now. The emptiness. The need.

Her tongue darted out. Licked her lips.

’Everyone’s doing it’, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. ’All these women serving him—they’re greedy too. They wanted success. Money. Power. We’re all the same. It’s just... it’s just competition. Everyone’s doing it so we can too.’

The rationalization felt thin. Weak.

But god, she wanted to believe it.

Sophia was the first to move.

She leaned in—hesitant, trembling—and her tongue made contact with the side of his shaft.

The taste exploded across her taste buds. Salt and musk and something indefinably masculine. Her eyes fluttered shut.

"Oh—"

The sound came out breathy. Surprised.

Encouraged by Sophia’s movement, Clara followed.

Her lips pressed against the other side of his cock. Soft. Experimental. Then she opened her mouth and let her tongue slide along the thick vein running up the underside.

"Mmh—"

Both women were sucking now. Licking. Their tongues moved independently at first—one going up while the other went down—but gradually they found a rhythm. Their mouths worked in tandem, sliding along his shaft, occasionally meeting at the top where their tongues would accidentally touch and send sparks of shame and arousal through both of them.

Above them, Raven pulled back from Priya’s mouth with a wet pop.

A strand of saliva connected their lips, stretching and breaking as he tilted his head to look down at her flushed face.

"I’m going to fuck you first," he said simply.

Priya’s eyes widened. "N-no—please—I’m not—"

"Yes, you are." His smile was cruel. Knowing. "Your pussy’s been dripping since you walked into this room. You want this. You need this."

"I don’t—!" Her protest turned into a cry as he shifted his grip and ground her pussy against his abs. The friction made her whole body jerk. "Ahh—! Hngh—!"

"See?" He did it again. Rubbed her soaked panties against the ridges of his muscles. "Your body knows what it wants even if your mouth won’t admit it."

Priya bit her lip. Hard enough to draw blood again. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes—but not from pain. From overwhelming sensation. From the way every nerve in her body was screaming for more even as her mind tried to hold onto some shred of morality.

Raven’s gaze dropped to the two women servicing him below.

Their heads bobbed. Their tongues worked. Hesitant at first, but growing bolder. More desperate. Their own arousal leaking through their clothes, making dark patches on expensive fabric.

His cock throbbed in their mouths.

"Keep sucking," he commanded. "Get it nice and wet. Because one of you is next after her."

Both women moaned around his shaft.

Then Raven moved.

He walked—still carrying Priya, still being sucked by two women who shuffled along on their knees to keep their mouths on him—toward the massive bed.

With casual, brutal efficiency, he twisted his body and threw Priya onto the mattress.

She screamed as she left his arms—a short, sharp sound of shock—and then her body hit the red sheets and bounced.

Literally bounced.

Her tits—contained in a tight blouse and blazer—jiggled from the impact. Her legs splayed. Her skirt rode up higher, and for a brief moment, they all saw her panties fully—white cotton, completely soaked through, clinging to the shape of her pussy lips.

"Ah—!"

Priya tried to scramble backward, but Raven was already moving.

He grabbed the hem of her skirt with both hands.

And tore.

The sound was obscene. Fabric ripping. Seams popping. Threads snapping.

"No—! Stop—!"

But her skirt was gone in seconds, tossed aside like garbage. Her blazer followed. He yanked it off her shoulders so roughly one sleeve tore completely free. Then her blouse—buttons flying, scattering across the bed and floor with little plastic clicks.

Priya lay there in just her bra and panties, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear and arousal.

Her body was tight. Compact. The body of someone who worked out regularly—toned stomach, defined arms, legs with lean muscle. Her tits weren’t huge, but they were perfect handfuls, straining against a simple white bra that matched her ruined panties.

Raven’s hand shot out and hooked two fingers into the elastic band of those panties.

Pulled.

Priya wailed as her body slid across the sheets. Dragged by her underwear like she weighed nothing. The fabric dug into her skin, wedging between her ass cheeks, pulling tight against her pussy in a way that made her back arch and her mouth fall open in a wordless cry.

"Aaahh—!"

He pulled her to the edge of the bed. Let her legs dangle over the side. Positioned her so her face was pressed into the mattress, her ass raised, her body bent at the waist in a half-doggy position.

Then he hooked his thumbs into either side of her panties—now stretched to their limit—and pulled them aside.

Not off. Aside.

The fabric stretched, framing her pussy like obscene lingerie.

And god, she was perfect.

Her pussy lips were swollen. Pink. Glistening with so much arousal it was literally dripping down her thighs. The curls of red hair above her slit were matted with moisture. Her entrance clenched and unclenched rhythmically, little spasms of need that pushed out more clear fluid with each pulse.

But there—right there at her entrance—was a thin membrane.

Intact. Unbroken.

Virgin.