#&antonio threads

[salaciouscarnality]

&closed starter for @sxlxcious The situation was a god damn mess and there was no one to blame save for Antonio. They say you can't outrun the ghosts of your past but in fairness, Ant wasn't really running from anything intentionally. It was at his first high school teaching when he crossed paths with with Elle. The girl had a reputation and he was being honest, she far exceeded all the stories he'd heard rumbling through the grapevine. There was no excusing his brief moments of weakness but he can confidently say he'd never laid a finger on her before. She couldn't say the same. When a new job offer across the country came up for better pay, he simply took it as something too good to ignore. Any lingering whispers from the devil on his shoulder were left behind for good...or so he thought. By some sick twist of chance or was it fate? he's crossed paths with the very same ghost of his past. Ant was happily in a committed relationship with the same woman he met shortly after moving to Los Angeles before he crossed paths with Elle again. It was fitting that it was in the subway of all places, considering that they had history in that setting. It's funny how quick life can get turned on it's head. Rachel was kind of girlfriend anyone would could ask for. She was funny, caring and respectful of almost every one of Antonio's needs. Like him, she was a person of faith but her devotion was far deeper than his. Rachel was adamant about saving herself for marriage and therein lied the thread that was the key to unlocked the predicament he currently found himself in. "Fucking hell." Ant's tongue swipes over his lips as he speaks, tasting her all too familiar lip gloss on his mouth. He flips through his leather wallet one more time as if by some miracle, the thing he was looking for would magically appear. Ant closes his eyes as his hands search his own pockets, silently holding his breath as he hopes to find the trust golden foil package he needed. The shifting movement does nothing but make him even more aware of the throbbing cock still dying to bee freed from its prison. "I'm out of condoms." He utters words of defeat, knowing there is no one to blame but himself. Antonio had somehow deluded himself into thinking that if he wore a condom, it really wasn't cheating. It was the same delusional work arounds they would give each just like how a blowjob isn't cheating either. The rate at which they blew threw condoms was nothing short of impressive but failing to restock was only his fault. He loved Rachel but Elle had rekindled the ravenous libido that had been long dormant since his college days. Calloused finger tips reach around her waist and give her pert ass a firm grip, almost as if silently mourning what could have been. "I guess now we'll be free to make the 9 PM mass by the bonfire, huh?" It was Rachel's church's annual camping weekend retreat. Elle was around so much that she somehow became an official member of her church and no one even batted an eye. With Rachel being one of the main leaders of the weekend, it was meant to be three full days balls deep inside his ex student's guts inside their own tent.

[salaciouscarnality]

continuation with @quiteanimpression

Antonio only chuckled at her fury, the sound low and decadent, rolling from his chest like smoke. Rage looked exquisite on her, he thought. The way her body strained against its bonds, the fire flashing in her dark eyes—it made the effect of Calor all the sweeter. He tightened his arms around her thrashing frame, effortlessly stilling her movements as though she were nothing more than a restless kitten in the grip of a predator. “Careful, mi vida,” he murmured against her ear, voice silken and dangerous. “The more you fight, the hotter it burns. That’s what my little invention does. It feeds on your anger… your hatred… until all that’s left is need.” He let one hand trail deliberately, almost lazily, down her side—territorial, claiming, not hurried but deliberate enough to make her skin recoil. His touch was infuriatingly confident, the kind of contact that belonged to a man who had never once been denied.

“You think you hate me now,” Antonio continued, his lips grazing the curve of her neck as he spoke, his words velvet daggers, “but wait. Give it time. You’ll beg for the same hands you curse.” The threat wasn’t shouted; it was whispered, heavy with certainty. He didn’t need to raise his voice—his power was the quiet kind, the kind that suffocated without ever breaking a sweat. Callie’s thrashing only deepened his smile, that slow, wolfish curl of lips she couldn’t see but could feel in the heat of his breath. “You’ll learn,” he promised, his tone almost tender now, a lover’s vow twisted in menace. His grip shifted, pulling her tighter against the hard lines of his body as if to show her exactly what kind of prison she had been caught in. “And when you do… you’ll wonder why you ever wasted your breath telling me no.” His expert digits press harsher into her needy cunthole, just enough so he can really gather her juices on his fingers. The drug always instilled upon him a thirst that was hard to quench - one that water couldn't satiate. No, he craved something far more tastier. He swears he can hear the sloshing of her pussy as his fingers pull away before he's raising to them to his mouth. Strong lips envelope his own flesh, tongue lapping up her cunt nectar and the mere taste of her sends electricity through his body. Ant can feel the way his hardening cock is already oozing it's own arousal as his precum stains the boxers that still confine him. It doesn't help that he's grinding his fat cock against her ass. "How about you be a good girl and put that pretty mouth to work and I'll decide if I want to reward you."