CHAPTER 125: WET(2)(R18+)

Steve’s hands moved with deliberate hunger, cupping the full weight of Tonya’s breasts—soft, and warm.

The pads of his fingers sank into her flesh as he kneaded them slowly, drawing out quiet gasps from her parted lips.

Behind her, he pressed forward, his arousal throbbing against the plush swell of her ass.

His cock pulsed as it nestled between the curves of her ass, trapped perfectly between them like the world had shaped her body just for this. The pressure, the slick friction, the way her body cradled him—it was all too much. And not enough.

"Damn it..." he muttered through clenched teeth, grinding slightly against her. Each motion only made him harder.

"Tonya..."

Inside, her mind spun.

’Don’t do this...’ her thoughts pleaded.

’You can’t. You can’t.’ But the ache in her chest said otherwise. The yearning was too loud now, the memories too close.

’Who am I kidding?’ she thought.

’I’ve missed this... I’ve missed him.’

She gave in, pressing herself closer into his embrace, her back arching just slightly so her ass met his dick more firmly. Her hands moved— covering his hand still possessively clutching her breast. She didn’t stop him. She urged him.

Steve groaned low in his throat as one of his hands slid away from her chest, gliding down over her ribs, slow and reverent. His fingers traced the line of her torso, finding the place where heat radiated strongest—her pussy. Even through the barrier of her clothes and the water rushing around them, he could feel it: the unmistakable slick warmth of her arousal.

’God... I’ve missed that too.’ he thought, his fingers curling slightly, testing her readiness. Her hips twitched at his touch, and he leaned in closer, lips brushing her neck.

"You’re soaked." he whispered into her ear, voice like velvet over flame.

A soft moan slipped from Tonya’s lips as his fingers teased her slick folds beneath the water, the sound fragile, breathy—

Her head tilted back slightly, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation pulled her under like a tide.

Steve trailed his nose along the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling the way her body reacted beneath his touch. His free hand returned to her backside, fingers digging in—firm, possessive, hungry. No soft caresses now. He squeezed her fat ass, claimed every inch of her flesh with deliberate need.

The river’s current flowed around them, rippling and licking at their bodies like a second skin, but neither of them cared. All that existed now was each other—their heat, their movement, the pulsing rhythm of want building between them.

Tonya gasped again as Steve’s hand slid down her thigh, steady and strong, guiding her leg gently upward.

Her breath trembled as he lifted her leg slightly to the side, opening her wet pussy up to him. She was already half-submerged in the water, but her arousal was unmistakable.

Now behind her, one of Steve’s arms curled around her torso, palm cradling her breast as his thumb brushed over her hardened nipple. The other gripped her thigh, holding her steady, holding her open.

Tonya turned her head, her lips parted, cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Her eyes found his.

"Steve..." she whispered, her voice trembling, vulnerable, aching.

He met her gaze, eyes dark with desire.

And so Steve moved.

Without hesitation, his hand moved with purpose, fingers curling firmly around the thick weight of his cock — already swollen, eager, and slick with a mix of anticipation and the cool water that clung to every inch of him.

Guided by instinct, he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, that warm, swollen spot already softened by their earlier indulgences.

A grunt rumbled low in his chest as he pressed forward.

Her folds parted around him like silk slipping open, welcoming him back in with practiced ease. She wasn’t as tight as before, no — but that only made the sensation more intense.

She was used to him. And that familiarity only made the heat between them burn brighter. His cock slid into her with smooth, fluid motion, wrapped in a heat so wet and warm.

It was heaven.

His shaft sank in deeper, and deeper still, until he was fully buried inside her. The water amplified everything — adding a cool contrast to the inferno pulsing between their bodies. It made the glide seamless, made the squeeze of her inner walls even more electric.

Her pussy gripped him greedily, fluttering around his length.

Then she moaned.

It was soft — a delicate, breathy sound — but it carried far too easily over the hush of the river. Her eyes went wide, and her hand flew to her mouth, stifling the noise before it grew louder. Her fingers trembled as they pressed to her lips, body tensing beneath him.

Steve froze, instinct flaring.

His head snapped to the side, eyes scanning the dense foliage beyond the river. Nothing moved. No voices, no shifting shadows — just the quiet hum of night and the soft gurgle of water around their hips.

He exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease from his shoulders. Still, the moment lingered.

’Gotta be more careful.’ he thought, biting back a grin.

Then he started moving again.

A slow roll of his hips. A firm withdrawal — then a deep, wet thrust.

Each stroke was long and deliberate, dragging his cock along every sensitive ridge inside her before driving back in, making her throbbing heat flutter helplessly around him.

She was dripping.

He could feel her pulsing around him, feel her legs tremble as she tried to stay silent. But her body gave her away. She was too hot, too soaked, too desperate for more.

Steve leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, voice rough and low.

"Still so tight for me... even after everything."

A muffled whimper escaped her as he thrust harder — deeper — the sound of wet skin meeting wet skin lost in the river’s lull. His pace quickened, his body pinning her against the muddy bank, his cock plunging into her again and again, her heat swallowing him whole.

The river rocked gently around them, bearing witness to every hungry thrust, and every muffled moan.

And Steve kept moving — slow and steady, deep and relentless —