Carnal Appetites

Flesh slapped against flesh, a wet, rhythmic sound echoing across the open balcony.

"Fuck, Vance!" the red-haired girl shrieked. A raw wave of pleasure tore through her vocal cords. Her fifth orgasm of the night ripped through her body, leaving her thrashing on the green felt of the snooker table.

Vance kept her wrists pinned above her head. He drove his cock deep into her dripping pussy, refusing to slow down. He had called her an hour ago. Like all the whores he kept on rotation, she came running the second he summoned her.

Women were simple to him. The city crawled with different breeds, all desperate, all waiting to be fed by his cock. They served one purpose. They responded to sex, built to handle wild orgasms, and Vance knew he was the exact man to give them what they craved.

He slammed his hips forward, burying the thick length of his shaft inside her tight channel. She liked it rough. He wasn't going to complain. She tangled her bare legs around his waist, throwing her head back against the edge of the table. Her eyes rolled back. Another spasm clamped down on his dick. Her sixth climax hit her hard.

"Vance..." she pleaded. Her voice cracked, desperate for a second of relief. She wasn't going to get it.

He yanked his cock out of her vagina. The sudden loss made her whine. Before she could react, he shoved two thick fingers into her wet slit. He thrusted deeper, pushing faster into her sultry flesh, churning the slick juices pooling in her cunt.

She bucked her hips upward, chasing the friction of his fingers. She couldn't take the buildup.

"Do you want me to stop, mi amor?" Vance groaned. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His hot breath sent fresh shockwaves racing down her spine.

Her walls felt raw. She was pushed to her limit, but she would die before she asked him to pull back. She wanted every ounce of pain and pleasure he could dish out. She wanted more than he could give.

"Oh my god!" she screamed. Her vaginal walls clamped down, pulsing around his knuckles.

Vance slid his fingers out of her soaking pussy. He moved his hand to her face, pressing his slick digits against her lips.

"Taste it," he ordered.

She opened her mouth and sucked his fingers, licking every drop of her own juice off his skin. A low hum vibrated in the back of her throat. The sight sent a fresh surge of heat straight to his groin.

Dropping her legs, the woman scrambled to her knees. She leaned over his lap and went straight for his dick. She wrapped her fingers around the thick base and dragged her tongue in wet, swirling circles around the swollen head.

She flicked her eyes up to gauge his reaction. The dark hunger in his stare told her she was doing it right.

Vance threw his head back. A low, feral growl tore from his chest as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. He grabbed a fistful of her red hair, holding her in place as he started to fuck her mouth. She opened wide, taking his entire length down her throat, making sure to swallow the pre-cum and juices slicking his shaft.

He gripped her arms and dragged her up to her feet. Smashing his lips against hers, he kissed her hard, tasting his own essence mixed with hers on her tongue.

"You are one bad slut, mi amor," Vance praised.

A wide, triumphant grin spread across her face. She practically vibrated with excitement before dropping back down onto the snooker table, ready to spread her legs again.

This was his favorite game. Why use force when words worked better? Call them beautiful, tell them they were good girls, and they fell head over heels. They would do whatever depraved act he requested. That was his golden rule.

"Thank you, daddy," she purred.

Vance brought his hand down, slapping her bare pussy hard enough to leave a red mark. She shivered, her thighs parting wider.

The night was far from over, and looking at the wet mess she was making on his snooker table, she knew it too.

"You don't have to leave the convent, sister. It's really not safe out there." Katrina's voice wavered as she handed a stack of folded gray clothes across the narrow bed.

Maeva took the garments with a gentle smile, setting them into the open suitcase. The small, stone-walled room felt colder than usual tonight.

Katrina wrapped her arms around her own waist, watching Maeva pack. She couldn't understand why her older sister insisted on leaving the sanctuary of the convent just to find a job in the city. The older nuns whispered wild, creepy stories in the courtyards about the illicit, dangerous things people did beyond the iron gates. The list of horrors was endless. To Katrina, the convent was the safest place left in the world.

Watching Maeva pack felt like watching someone walk out of paradise straight into a lion's den. Katrina had spent the past three days begging her to change her mind, but the girl remained stubborn. Once Maeva set her sights on a goal, nothing could derail her.

Sometimes, Katrina wished their parents had lived. A real family wouldn't have let Maeva indulge in such a risky plan. But they were orphans. They had found grace and shelter twenty years ago when the sisters took them in. Now, after two decades of peace, Maeva was willingly walking back into the wild.

"I know you're scared, but I promise I will be fine," Maeva said. She smoothed her hands over the folded fabric. "I want to find a better place for both of us. That has always been the plan. The sisters are supporting me in this. Can't you trust me, just this once?"

Her voice flowed soft and steady, carrying a calm authority that managed to cut through the tension. Even in the middle of a crisis, Maeva knew how to soothe people. Katrina found her head nodding in affirmation before she could stop herself.

"I trust you," Katrina whispered, her lower lip trembling. "But I'm going to miss you a lot. What if something bad happens to you out there? What if you don't come back for me?"

Katrina hated how weak she sounded. She had always been the fragile one between the two of them.

Maeva stepped away from the suitcase. She knew exactly how much Katrina loved her. They had guarded each other's backs for as long as they could remember. Leaving the convent would crush her little sister, but Maeva felt trapped. She didn't want to grow old inside these stone walls. She wanted to build a real life, own a business, and taste success. None of that would happen if she stayed locked up in a cloister.

Her life was already mapped out on paper. Step one: secure this new housekeeping job. Step two: save every penny to rent a small apartment in the city. Step three: put herself through college, graduate, and find a high-paying career.

It was a massive risk, but staying stagnant was worse. She just hadn't expected the news to break her sister's heart so thoroughly.

Maeva opened her arms.

Katrina broke down. She let out a choked sob and walked straight into Maeva's embrace, burying her tear-stained face in her sister's shoulder.

"I will come back for you, my little bunny. That is a promise I intend to keep," Maeva murmured, resting her chin on Katrina's head. "The agency already accepted me for the job. Everything is going to be okay."

Weeks ago, Maeva had applied for a housekeeping position in the big city through an employment agency. She was originally supposed to start her shift today, but she managed to plead with the supervisor for one extra day to pack her belongings. Tomorrow morning, she would take the bus into the unknown.

Katrina sniffled, nodding against Maeva's shoulder.

There was no changing Maeva's mind. The decision was set. Even the head sisters had given their blessings earlier that afternoon. Nothing was going to stop her from walking out those gates tomorrow.

Maeva pulled back slightly, wiping a stray tear from Katrina's cheek. "Thank you. Now, please, help me finish packing."

"Of course," Katrina said.

Knowing there was no changing Maeva's mind, Katrina forced a smile. She turned back to the narrow bed and proceeded to gather the rest of the scattered clothes, placing them carefully into the open box, leaving Maeva's departure set in stone.