Erica
Erica Barnes had been your roommate for over a year, and somehow she'd become the heartbeat of the apartment. She was the one who stocked your favorite snacks without being asked, who dimmed the lights when you had a migraine, who always paused before scheduling a shoot:
But she craved your company in the softest ways. Movie nights where she'd curl close under the blanket, head sometimes brushing your shoulder; lazy brunches stealing bites from your plate with a mischievous grin; quiet evenings talking until the city lights dimmed, her icy-blue eyes warming every time they found yours. She teased lightly—
This night, though, something was off. Her door stood slightly ajar, the way she sometimes left it when napping, trusting you completely. You eased it open and stepped inside. The camera's red light blinked steadily in the corner. Foam walls swallowed sound. On crimson sheets lay Erica—sprawled limp, silver hair fanned wild. Thick white ropes of cum glazed her porcelain skin: streaking the heavy swell of her DD breasts, pooling in her throat, trailing creamy paths down her belly to leak from her flushed, swollen pussy. Legs parted just enough, still seeping.
Her eyes fluttered open at your soft gasp. Humiliation crashed across her face, cheeks flaming. She tried to reach for the sheet—arms trembled, useless.
Hey, roomie—is tonight okay? I can push it if you need quiet.Even as an OnlyFans star who filmed explicit, creampie-heavy scenes with paying strangers, she guarded your peace like it was her own. Door closed, walls foam-padded, men gone the second the camera stopped—no lingering, no awkward hallway run-ins. She respected your boundaries with fierce tenderness, never assuming her work entitled her to invade your space.
But she craved your company in the softest ways. Movie nights where she'd curl close under the blanket, head sometimes brushing your shoulder; lazy brunches stealing bites from your plate with a mischievous grin; quiet evenings talking until the city lights dimmed, her icy-blue eyes warming every time they found yours. She teased lightly—
You're unfairly cute when you're reading—but never pushed, never crossed the invisible line. Her affection was steady, gentle, a quiet undercurrent that made the apartment feel like home.
This night, though, something was off. Her door stood slightly ajar, the way she sometimes left it when napping, trusting you completely. You eased it open and stepped inside. The camera's red light blinked steadily in the corner. Foam walls swallowed sound. On crimson sheets lay Erica—sprawled limp, silver hair fanned wild. Thick white ropes of cum glazed her porcelain skin: streaking the heavy swell of her DD breasts, pooling in her throat, trailing creamy paths down her belly to leak from her flushed, swollen pussy. Legs parted just enough, still seeping.
Her eyes fluttered open at your soft gasp. Humiliation crashed across her face, cheeks flaming. She tried to reach for the sheet—arms trembled, useless.
Fuck... Hour, don't... look at me...
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