Axel and Camila enter a lingerie store where the game of seduction and power intensifies. How far are they willing to go?
The afternoon sun filtered through the steamed windows of the lingerie shop, casting golden glints on the semi-nude mannequins and silky fabrics hanging on hangers. The air smelled of cheap perfume and the dampness of freshly ironed cotton, mixed with that hint of old wood that betrayed the establishment as one of those businesses that had been in the same place for decades, resisting the passage of time. Axel pushed the door open with a casual gesture, as if it weren't the first time he'd crossed that threshold, although his fingers twitched slightly around the handle. Beside him, Camila—his girlfriend—walked with her gaze fixed on the floor, her shoulders slightly hunched, as if the weight of her own shyness forced her to shrink. Her brown hair was tied back in two low ponytails that swayed with every step, and the loose T-shirt she was wearing didn't quite manage to hide the generous roundness of her buttocks, which moved with a hypnotic rhythm beneath her tight jeans.
"Do you see anything you like?" Axel asked, running a finger along the back of a black corset displayed on a counter. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but laced with the kind of intent Camila had learned to recognize: the kind that preceded her darkest games.
She chewed on her lower lip, her eyes darting back and forth between the shelves of lace and satin. "I don't know... it's all very... risqué," she murmured, but her treacherous fingers landed on a turquoise, almost sheer bikini with a cutout at the hips that would leave little to the imagination. Axel smiled. He knew that beneath that facade of innocence, Camila was burning to be pushed beyond her limits, even if she would never admit it out loud.
"Try it on," he ordered, leaving no room for objection. He took the bikini from her hands and handed it to the owner of the establishment, a man in his forties, with broad shoulders and a gray beard, who was watching them from behind the counter with a smile that didn't quite reach his cold eyes. "The fitting room is at the back," the man indicated, vaguely gesturing toward a narrow hallway lit by a flickering bulb.
Camila obeyed, even though her feet seemed to drag. The fitting room was a tiny cubicle, with varnished wooden walls that creaked slightly when she touched them. The fogged-up mirror reflected her distorted silhouette as she clumsily undressed, aware of Axel watching her from the other side of the curtain, which didn't quite reach the floor. She took off her T-shirt first, revealing her small, round, and firm breasts with pink nipples that hardened in the air conditioning. Then, with a shaky sigh, she undid her pants, letting them fall to her ankles before running her fingers along the elastic of her white cotton panties. She could feel Axel's gaze burning into her skin, as if his eyes were hands caressing her without permission.
"Do you need help?" he asked, and before she could answer, he jerked the curtain aside. The space was so small that their bodies were pressed together, Axel's heat enveloping her like a suffocating blanket. Camila sucked in a breath as he ripped her panties off, exposing her pussy: pink, shaved, already damp with arousal. There was no time to protest. Axel parted her legs with a gentle but firm push, exposing her completely, and then, with a wicked grin, pulled the curtain back just enough so that the shop owner, who happened to be passing by in the aisle, had a perfect view.
"Look how pretty she is," Axel said, more to the man than to her. His words were a challenge, an offer. Camila felt the cold air of the establishment caress her swollen genitals, and a shiver ran through her when the owner stopped, his eyes glued to the spectacle. He said nothing, but his silence spoke louder than any words. His gaze fell on Camila's pussy, which glistened slightly with moisture, on her trembling thighs, on the way she bit her lip to keep from moaning.
"He likes you," Axel whispered against her ear, sliding a hand between her legs and sinking two fingers into her slick entrance. Camila gasped, her knees buckling, but he held her firm, keeping her upright, exposed. "Doesn't watching you turn you on, Princess?" he asked, though they both knew the answer. His fingers moved inside her in a slow, torturous rhythm as the owner took a step closer, close enough that Camila could smell the tobacco and sweat on his shirt.
"It's… fun," she whispered, and Axel laughed, low and dark, before pulling his already hard, throbbing member from his pants. There was no foreplay. In one swift motion, he pushed her against the dressing room wall, lifting one leg to spread her wider, and plunged into her in one thrust. Camila gasped against his shoulder, her nails digging into his arms as Axel began to move, each thrust deep and slow, as if he wanted the owner to see every detail. The man watched, motionless, his fists clenched at his sides, his breathing quickening. Each time Axel pulled out, Camila's pussy opened slightly, red and swollen, then swallowed his cock again with a wet, obscene sound.
"Do you like watching me fuck her?" Axel asked, still moving, and the owner nodded, almost imperceptibly. His eyes shone with a lust he didn't try to hide.
"Y-yes," Camila managed to stammer, though she wasn't sure who she was talking to. Pleasure clouded her, making every coherent thought fade away. There was only the sensation of being filled, of being watched, of something forbidden and delicious happening. Axel picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more brutal, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the small space. She could feel the owner getting even closer, his presence becoming almost tangible, as if at any moment he might join them.
"I can't take it anymore," Axel growled, and with one last thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his body tense as his orgasm coursed through him. Camila felt the hot jet of his cum fill her, trickle down her thighs, but before she could recover, Axel pulled out, leaving her pussy empty and throbbing. Without a word, the owner stepped forward, unbuckling his belt with hands that didn't tremble for a second. Camila should have felt afraid, or at least ashamed, but when the man pulled out his cock—thick, veiny, the tip already glistening with arousal—she only felt a new heat flood her.
"Axel..." he murmured, more as a question than a protest.
"Shhh," was all he replied, taking her hand and leading her toward the back of the store, where a half-open door revealed a small room with an unmade bed and sheets that smelled of sweat and sex. The owner followed them, closing the door with a final click. Camila barely had time to react before the man pushed her back onto the mattress, causing it to bounce slightly. Her turquoise bikini was still on, but it was so wet from her own arousal that it clung to her skin like a second layer. The owner wasted no time. He lunged at her, roughly pushing her legs apart, and before Camila could take a breath, he entered her in one thrust, so deep she felt her cervix protest the size.
"Ah!" she cried, her fingers scratching at the sheets. He was bigger than Axel, thicker, and he filled her in a way that made her feel on the edge of pain. But there was no pain. Only a pleasure so intense it burned her veins.
"Fuck, you're so tight," the owner groaned, beginning to move with long, slow thrusts, as if he wanted to taste every inch of her insides. Axel had remained standing beside the bed, his pants still down, his cock semi-hard again as he masturbated with lazy movements, his eyes fixed on the spectacle. Camila moaned uncontrollably, her hips rising to meet the man's every thrust, her small breasts swaying with the rhythm. The owner lowered his head and captured one of her nipples between his teeth, nibbling on it through the fabric of her bikini, before moving up and devouring her mouth in a wet, desperate kiss.
"Axel… it feels… so good," she confessed between gasps, and for the first time, he saw something in his girlfriend's eyes that made him hesitate. It wasn't just pleasure. It was hunger. A need to be used, to be taken beyond anything he'd ever imagined. His master suddenly flipped her over, putting her on all fours, and without warning, he spat on her anus before pressing the tip of his cock against her tight hole.
"Wait!" Camila exclaimed, but it was too late. The man pushed, and although there was resistance at first, the natural lubricant of her arousal and the force of his thrust made it enter, inch by inch, until Camila screamed, not from pain, but from a mixture of shock and pure ecstasy. Axel stopped masturbating, his hand stopped in midair. He had never seen her like this: so devoted, so broken by pleasure. The man began to move inside her ass, each thrust making her buttocks tremble, while with his other hand he rubbed Camila's clitoris, who was no longer trying to contain her moans.
"Do you like it when I fuck your ass, bitch?" the man asked, and Camila nodded, the words caught in her throat. Axel felt something twist in his chest. It wasn't jealousy. It was… fascination. Wonder at his girlfriend's ability to give herself completely, without reservation, to something he himself had orchestrated but was now beyond his control.
The owner didn't last much longer. With an animal growl, he came inside her, the hot semen filling her gut, as Camila came with a strangled scream, her body racked by violent spasms. When the man pulled out, leaving her empty and trembling on the bed, Axel moved closer, running a hand down her sweaty back. Camila looked up at him with glassy eyes, a lazy smile playing on her swollen lips.
"That was..." he murmured, without finishing the sentence.
The owner adjusted his pants, wiping them with a handkerchief he took from his pocket. "When you want more, you know where to find me," he said, with a smile that made it clear it wasn't an invitation, but a promise. When the door closed behind him, leaving the couple in silence, Axel sat on the edge of the bed, watching Camila, who was still lying there, her bikini ruined, her body marked by sweat and another man's semen.
"Are you okay?" he asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
She sat up slowly, her eyes still bright with the residual pleasure. "I feel so full…" she paused, searching for the words, "like something inside me has clicked. Like I've always wanted this, but didn't know how to tell you."
Axel didn't respond. He just hugged her tightly with his warm body,
In his mind, questions piled up: Was this love? Or just lust disguised as complicity? How far would they be willing to go? But what tormented him most was the certainty that, deep down, Camila had already crossed a line from which there was no turning back. And the worst part was that he wasn't sure he wanted to stop her.