Tempting Descent
Under the title, Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 💋
Chapter 1: Whispers in the Dark
Lena stirred in her narrow bed, the sheets tangled around her legs like a lover’s careless embrace. The apartment hummed with the low buzz of the city outside—distant horns, the rumble of a late-night train slicing through the night. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen glowing a soft blue that stung her eyes. 2:17 AM. Another night of fractured sleep.
Her roommate, Bianca, had suggested the app months ago. “It’s just guided meditations, babe. Helps with stress.” Lena, ever the diligent corporate spy embedded in the tech firm’s accounts department, had downloaded it without a second thought. Posing as a temp auditor, she needed her wits sharp. But lately, the whispers in her earbuds pulled her under deeper, dreams laced with heat and shadow.
Tonight, as she slipped the buds in, the voice—smooth, commanding, not quite human—murmured promises. “Relax into it. Let the tempting rhythms take hold.” She exhaled, tasting the faint mint of her toothpaste mingled with the stale smoke that clung to the air from Bianca’s endless chain-smoking sessions. Bianca, with her curves like polished obsidian, her laugh that echoed off the peeling wallpaper of their rundown loft in the warehouse district. Lena had moved in six weeks back, fleeing a stuffy sublet closer to the office tower.
The audio swelled, bass throbbing like a heartbeat against her temples. Her hand drifted, unbidden, down her stomach, fingers brushing the edge of her cotton boyshorts. Tempting. The word flickered in her mind, hot and insistent. She pictured Marcus, the hulking IT drone from security, his unkempt beard framing a smirk that made her thighs clench. At 32, Lena was all sharp angles—brunette waves cropped short for “professionalism,” lithe runner’s build from years of suppressing chaos with discipline. Engaged to Theo, the accountant with predictable kisses and missionary fade-outs. But Marcus? He smelled of cheap energy drinks and something feral underneath.
She woke gasping, fingers slick between her legs, the room thick with her own musk. The alarm blared soon after, pulling her into the shower. Hot water cascaded, steaming the mirror, as she scrubbed away the evidence. But the ache lingered, tempting her to linger too.
Chapter 2: Corridors of Heat
The office tower loomed, glass facade reflecting the midday sun like a blade. Lena badged in, her pencil skirt hugging hips she’d always thought too narrow. The air inside was chilled, recirculated with that faint ozone tang from the HVAC. She nodded at the receptionists, their chatter a dull roar, and headed to her cubicle in the labyrinth of finance.
Two weeks in, boredom gnawed. Files blurred—fudged invoices, suspicious transfers. But her mind wandered to Marcus. Yesterday, he’d lingered at the scanner, his bulk filling the doorway. “Rough night?” he’d rumbled, eyes dipping to her blouse’s vee. She’d flushed, nipples peaking against lace, and muttered something about deadlines.
Today, as she filed reports, his shadow fell across her desk. The scent hit first—sweat-damp flannel, motor oil from tinkering with servers in the basement. He was a mountain of a man, 6’4″ of slouched fat over muscle, ginger stubble patchy on jowls. “Heard you’re digging deep. Tempting fate with those audits, aren’t ya?”
His voice was gravel, sparking something low in her belly. She crossed her legs, feeling the dampness already blooming. “Just doing my job, Marcus.” But her tone betrayed her, breathy.
He leaned in, callused knuckles brushing her keyboard. “Job like that? You need a break. Got something in the break room fridge that’ll wake you up.” His grin flashed uneven teeth.
She followed, heels clicking on linoleum that smelled of industrial cleaner. The break room was empty, vending machines humming. He pulled a thermos from his satchel—dark liquid swirling. “Homemade. Spiked energy boost. Not for the faint.”
Tempting. Her pulse thrummed. Theo would balk. Her father, the retired cop drilling ethics into her since childhood, would lecture. But she snatched it, gulping. Fire bloomed—vodka masked in cola, burning sweet down her throat. Warmth spread, loosening limbs, fogging edges.
“Good girl,” he murmured, stepping close. His hand grazed her hip, thumb circling. She didn’t pull away. The room spun faintly, her skin electric. “You look tense. Let me help.”
His fingers trailed up her thigh, bunching skirt fabric. She gasped, tasting the booze on her tongue, inhaling his raw maleness. Outside, elevators dinged, oblivious. Here, temptation coiled tight.
He pressed her against the counter, mouth crashing down. His beard scraped her chin, tongue invasive, like he owned her already. She moaned into it, hands fisting his shirt, the cheap polyester rough under palms. 🔥
Chapter 3: Bianca’s Web
Home reeked of incense and weed, the loft’s exposed brick trapping smoke like a secret. Bianca lounged on the sagging couch, ebony skin gleaming under lamp glow, her voluptuous frame draped in a silk robe that gaped at the thigh. At 35, she was a freelance tattoo artist, all swagger and hidden needles.
“Late night, chica?” Bianca’s eyes raked Lena, lingering on the rumpled blouse, the flush staining her neck.
Lena dropped her bag, the thud echoing. “Work. You know.”
Bianca patted the cushion. “Sit. You look like you need unwinding.” She sparked a joint, passing it over. The herbal tang filled Lena’s lungs as she inhaled, coughing lightly. New habit, slipping in with the app’s nights.
“That app working for you? Dreams getting wild?” Bianca’s hand rested on Lena’s knee, warm and sure.
“Tempting dreams,” Lena admitted, words tumbling loose. The buzz hit, softening inhibitions. Bianca’s touch climbed, parting thighs. No panties today—Marcus’s trophy from yesterday’s hurried fumble in the stairwell.
Bianca’s laugh was low smoke. “Tell me.” Fingers delved, finding slick heat. Lena arched, the leather couch creaking under them, tasting salt on her lip from biting it.
“Marcus… he…” But words dissolved as Bianca’s mouth claimed her breast through fabric, teeth grazing the peak. Rough affection, pulling moans that echoed off rafters. Bianca’s free hand pinned Lena’s wrist, dominating with ease.
“He’s just the start. You’re changing, Lena. Becoming who you’re meant to be.” Her voice wove like the app’s whispers. Fingers plunged deeper, curling, stretching. Lena bucked, scent of arousal thick, mingling with ganja haze.
Climax shattered her, vision spotting. Bianca licked her digits clean, eyes gleaming. “Tomorrow, more. I’ve got friends coming.”
Lena lay spent, heart pounding, guilt a distant echo drowned by aftershocks. Tempting surrender felt too good.
Chapter 4: Stretched Limits 🔥
The office after hours was a ghost ship—fluorescents flickering, the drone of vents the only witness. Lena had texted Marcus: Basement server room. Now. Reckless, the booze from lunch still humming in veins, app’s pull urging her down elevators that smelled of oil and neglect.
He waited, door ajar, silhouette massive against glowing monitors. “Knew you’d come crawling.” His chuckle rumbled as she stepped in, door clicking shut. Humidity clung, sweat beading on her skin instantly. Cables snaked floors like veins, air heavy with hot electronics and his musk.
No preamble. He yanked her close, mouth devouring, hands rending blouse buttons. Fabric whispered to the floor. Her bra followed, nipples hardening in the chill. “On your knees,” he growled.
She dropped, concrete biting knees through tights. His zipper rasped, freeing his girth—thick, veined, curving up like a threat. She engulfed him, jaw aching, saliva dripping. He groaned, fingers twisting her hair, fucking her face with sloppy thrusts. Gagging, she breathed his salty skin, pubic hair tickling nose.
“Up. Bend over.” The server rack was her altar, metal cold against palms. Skirt hiked, tights ripped with a satisfying tear. His hand cupped her mound, fingers probing. “Soaked already. Sloppy little thing.”
Tempting pain beckoned as he added digits—one, two, three. Her walls yielded, slick sounds obscene in the hum. Four, then his thumb pressed clit circles. She whimpered, pushing back. “More,” she begged, voice hoarse.
“Greedy bitch.” His whole fist breached, slow twist. Burning stretch, fullness overwhelming. She screamed, echoing off walls, every nerve firing. He pumped, knuckles grazing depths, free hand spanking her ass red.
Juices squirted, puddling at heels. Orgasm ripped, legs quaking. He withdrew, fist gleaming, smearing her lips. “Taste yourself.”
She did, musky tang exploding on tongue. Collapsed against him, trembling. His cum followed, hot ropes painting her back. Vulnerability crashed—tears mixing sweat. He stroked her hair, gruff. “Good girl. This is you now.”
Chapter 5: Entwined Ruin 💋
Friday blurred into night at the loft. Bianca’s “friends” meant Marcus, hauled over with a duffel of toys. Lena arrived dizzy from the app’s all-night loop, dressed in fishnets and a leather mini Bianca had “suggested”—black lace thong barely containing her.
The air thrummed with bass from speakers blasting industrial beats, vibrations pulsing through floorboards. Incense warred with sweat anticipation. Bianca poured shots—tequila biting sharp. “To temptations fulfilled.”
Marcus sprawled shirtless, belly spilling over belt, eyes hungry. “Strip show first.”
Lena swayed, hips rolling to the rhythm, peeling layers slow. Cheers erupted as she revealed tattoos Bianca had inked—delicate vines snaking thighs, hiding the bar she’d pierced her hood with last week. Pain memory flared into heat.
Bianca pulled her onto the rug, thick weave scratching back. Mouths met, tongues dueling, Bianca’s full lips bruising. Marcus watched, stroking himself. “Spread her.”
They did. Bianca’s tongue lapped long, delving into folds, while Marcus fed Lena his cock again. Spit-roasted, she drowned in sensation—wet heat below, salty thrusts above. Fingers everywhere, probing ass now, lubed beads popping in.
“Tempting ass next,” Bianca purred. Strap-on gleamed, massive black silicone. Lena mounted it reverse, grinding, Marcus filling her mouth. Beads tugged, ass clenching. Pain-pleasure blurred, screams muffled.
They switched. Marcus in her pussy, fist-deep now routine. Bianca claimed her rear, double-stuffed. Friction incendiary, bodies slapping wet. Climaxes chained—hers first, squirting arcs, then theirs flooding her.
After, tangled limbs, breaths ragged. Cigarette smoke curled, Bianca tracing Lena’s stretched holes tenderly. “Ours now.”
Marcus grunted agreement, pulling her close. Guilt flickered—Theo’s ring tossed in a drawer, father’s voice silenced. But temptation won, deeper bonds forging in filth.
App buzzed on phone. New session. She smiled, slipping buds in. Descent complete.
The loft pulsed on, city oblivious to the ruinous bliss within. 🔥💋
