An Interruption at Midnight
Somewhere around midnight, just as Luther was devouring me, a small, tentative knock sounded on the door.
We both froze for a split second, then instantly ignored it and continued our passionate ravaging of each other. The urgency of the moment far outweighed any possible domestic emergency.
However, the knock quickly became persistent—not loud, but annoyingly insistent. The rhythm was too rhythmic, too close to a demand. It instantly shattered the intense bubble of intimacy we had created.
I finally pulled back, breathing hard, looking down at Luther. I was still riding him, my body glistening. "Luther," I gasped, my voice a strained whisper of frustration and desire. "Please. That's not stopping. Go check what is happening." The Grey mansion drama, it seem
