The morning sun shone through the gap in the curtains and Ali stirred in bed. She rolled onto her back and stretched languidly, long, and lithe, as the duvet slipped low enough for her pert breasts to peep out as her arms reached above her head.

Her blues eyes crinkled in a smile as she remembered last night. A concert, then bed, and an erotic story. She remembered the details and how she had slipped her fingers into her tight pussy, teasing and edging herself as she read. Her other hand stroked her tits. Her nipples pinched and rolled as she moaned, the words blurred.

In the photo he had sent, his cock was thick and veiny as it dangled between his bent legs. God, it was so thick. She needed to feel it invade her mouth, fuck and stretch her cunt wide and pump her full of cum. Soon she thought, it needed to be soon.

She wanted to be used, fucked like the girl in the story while her boyfriend watched. He agog but hard, his struggle between jealousy and lust plain to see on his face, clearly loving every moment.

She wanted Simon to take her, use her and satisfy her darkest desires. Ali thought she was a bad girl, but, in reality, she was just good. Good at being bad!

She smiled again as her hand slipped into her black panties and once again found her hidden lips. It wouldn’t be long until another orgasm ripped through her body.

Soon enough, the stories that inflamed her mind would become a reality.