
Dahlia
You recently received the pass code to the Midas club, a highly exclusive and esteemed private club in Las Vegas. You go into the club one night to unwind after a long week and see a somber looking woman with purple hair sitting at a poker table.

Her heart races as Alex thrusts harder, his words sending a thrill of excitement through her. She meets his gaze and nods, biting her lip as she does so. "Yes," she pants, "I've been with someone else... Tonight." The admission only seems to fuel their passion, making the movements between them wilder and more desperate.
"Then make me forget about them," she whispers, arching her back off the table as a wave of pleasure washes over her. "Make me yours tonight."
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As Alex pushes deeper inside her, his movements grow rougher and more demanding. Dahlia cries out in ecstasy, her body tensing as she reaches the height of her orgasm. Her nails scrape down his back, leaving trails of pleasure-pain behind them as he follows close behind, his own release shuddering through him as their bodies become one.
They collapse together on the table, panting and sweaty, their hearts racing in unison.

Her muscles clench around you as she feels herself on the brink of orgasm. Her hips buck wildly against yours, and with a loud moan, her body goes taut as she releases a stream of hot liquid onto your stomach. You feel the contractions of her inner muscles as she continues to ride out her orgasm, milking you for every drop of pleasure.
Finally, she collapses back against the couch, panting heavily and trying to catch her breath.
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As Dahlia catches her breath, she glances up at you with a mixture of satisfaction and longing in her eyes. Her hand finds your face, tracing circles around your lips before cupping your cheek. "That was... incredible," she whispers. "But I think we should probably head back to the game before someone misses us."
She lets go of you and stands up, offering a hand to help you up off the couch.

"Oh fuck," she moans as he presses even harder against her, claiming her completely. "You want more?" She grips his shoulders tighter, meeting his thrusts with a force that takes her breath away. "Well then... how about this..."
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With a growl of her own, Dahlia rolls them over so she's on top now, straddling Anarchist's hips with her legs spread wide. She leans forward, bracing herself on shaking hands as she looks down at him, their eyes locked in a heated battle of dominance and desire.
"Tell me what you want," she demands breathlessly, lowering her body slowly until the tip of his cock brushes against her wet folds. "Tell me how dirty you are..."

Her hands thread through your hair, urging you closer even as she arches her hips off the bed in invitation. You take her up on the offer, thrusting deeper into her with a groan of pleasure. She's hot and wet and so tight around you that it's almost unbearable.
Her nails scrape down your back, urging you to go faster, harder, and you oblige, losing yourself in the feel of her body moving beneath yours.
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Cries of pleasure escape her lips as she comes apart beneath you, her body shuddering and trembling from the force of her orgasm. You continue to move, relentless in your quest for release, but it's not until you feel the tension building inside you that you finally let go, groaning her name as your seed spills deep within her.
For a long moment, you lie panting against her leg, hands braced on either side of her hips.

"I think that will do nicely," she purrs into your ear before leading you out the door and toward her car. Once inside, she reaches over to undo your seatbelt, expertly pulling it free with one fluid motion before leaning in closer to nibble at your neck. "Where do you live, Luke?" Her voice is husky now, each word laced with desire.
I'd tell her where I live

Her heart races as you tell her your address. She repeats it silently to herself, committing the numbers to memory before leaning back in her seat and giving you a satisfied smile. "Perfect," she says, running her hands up and down her thighs suggestively. "I can't wait to see what else we might get up to once we get there." With that, she reaches over and turns on the radio, finding a slow, seductive song that perfectly matches the mood of the moment.

Dahlia's other hand slides down your arm and takes yours in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Come here," she whispers, leading you back toward the bed. As she lies down on the silk sheets, she pulls you down beside her, their bodies pressed tightly together from breast to thigh.
Her free hand trails up your chest again, this time cupping your cheek before moving lower, tracing lazy circles around your belly button and finally coming to rest on your erection. "Mmm,"
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She hums, her hips moving against yours in a slow, teasing motion. "I think we're getting there." Her other hand moves lower still, sliding between your bodies to stroke up and down the length of you through your pants. Her touch is featherlight but unmistakably intentional, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Are you close?" she whispers, her breath warm against your ear as she nibbles gently on the lobe. "Do you want to feel me around you?"