Forbidden Heat: A Raw Encounter

Chapter 1: Unbridled Cravings

I didn’t waste a damn second thinking about propriety or patience when I saw Ethan stumble through the door, fresh from the gym, his white skin glistening with sweat, muscles bulging under that tight tank top. My name’s Priya, and with my long, luscious dark hair cascading down my back, a killer ass, and double D’s that could stop traffic, I knew I could have any man I wanted. But Ethan? Fuck, he was a whole other level. I’d heard the whispers from my girlfriends about white guys—how they’re hung like gods compared to the sorry excuses for men back home in India. And let me tell you, Ethan didn’t just meet the hype; he fucking obliterated it.

He was dripping with sweat, the musky scent hitting me like a drug, making my pussy throb instantly. 'Gonna clean up, babe,' he grunted, heading for the bathroom. Like hell I was waiting. I’m not some shy little flower; I take what I want. So, I followed him, my heart pounding, my body already aching for a taste of that white cock I’d been fantasizing about.

I pushed open the door, and there he was, sitting on the toilet, mid-shit, looking up at me with a mix of shock and amusement. 'What the fuck, Priya?' he barked, but there was a smirk on his lips. I didn’t answer with words. I dropped to my knees, my eyes locked on that thick, hard cock resting between his thighs, foreskin begging to be peeled back. 'Shut the hell up, Ethan. I’m hungry,' I snapped, my voice dripping with command as I gripped his shaft, feeling it pulse under my fingers.

'Damn, you’re a crazy bitch,' he laughed, but his head tipped back as I slid my lips over him, tasting the slight tang of urine on his skin. It only made me hornier, my tongue diving under that hood, lapping up the dick cheese with a greedy moan. The smell of his sweat, his raw masculinity, mixed with the earthy scent in the air—it was fucking intoxicating. 'You like that, don’t you, you dirty little Indian slut?' he growled, his hand tangling in my hair. I pulled off just long enough to shoot him a glare, my lips wet and glistening. 'Call me a slut again, and I’ll bite this white dick off. Now shut up and let me feast.'

He groaned as I went back to work, sucking him hard, my tongue cleaning every inch while he sat there, still on the damn toilet. The audacity of it, the raw filth, had me dripping between my thighs. I didn’t care about the mess or the taboo. I wanted more. Before he could even think about wiping, I yanked him up, dragging him to my bed. 'Get your ass over here,' I ordered, pushing him down on his stomach. 'What the fuck are you doing now?' he muttered, but I didn’t answer. I spread his cheeks, diving in with my tongue, tasting the raw, fecal flavor of him. It was nasty, it was wrong, and fuck, it was delicious.

'You’re insane,' he panted, but his body relaxed under me, a low moan escaping as I cleaned him out, my tongue relentless. 'You love this, don’t you, white boy? Letting me eat your dirty ass,' I taunted between licks, my hands gripping his hips. He didn’t argue, just groaned louder, his cock twitching beneath him. I could feel my own body sweating, my pussy aching to be filled, but I wasn’t done tasting every filthy inch of him yet. The tension was building, my hunger insatiable, and I knew the moment he flipped me over, I’d be ready for that explosive release, his cum painting my face and throat. But for now, I was in control, and I was going to make him beg for it.