He fucked me like he had all night to ruin me and an audience to impress.

Every thrust drove the air from my lungs in short, broken sounds. The bench creaked under us. His hips slammed against the raised, burning welts on my ass, turning the residual sting of the cane into fresh, sharp sparks that shot straight to my clit. I was so wet the sound of his cock driving into me was filthy and unmistakable—slick, rhythmic, echoing under the spotlights.

“Take it,” he ordered, voice low but clear enough for the front row. “That’s it. Open up and take every cock-hungry inch.”

He gripped my hips hard enough...