Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Turn around,” he said, lowering his chin a little as if to tell me just how seriously he took this moment. “I want to see your breasts.”
I felt my face crumple, my brow creasing and my mouth twisting to the side as a wave of shame crashed through me. My cheeks burned like the sun, and I brought my arms back up, to hold them tight across my chest. I shook my head violently. The slut had vanished, and the good girl returned, at the idea of showing my bare chest to my husband.
“Dee,” Rick said. “You’re going to get used to showing yourself to me naked, or you’re going to find yourself back here over the pillows for a whipping much too often for either of us to be happy.”
A whimpery moan rose from my chest, and just like that the arousal surged—at the thought that my lord and master would bring me back here over and over, until he got his way. The slut, the shameless slut, came out again, and she turned me around. At the same time, somehow, the need between my thighs brought something of the brat to the front, too. I swallowed hard, and I did my best to put a mocking expression on my face, as if Rick were being childish.
I clenched my fists, and then I forced my arms down. For a moment I held my hands in front of my pussy, where I could feel that the gusset still lay askew, and the cleft of my private lips was still visible among the light curls. Then I moved them to my hips, because, the brat thought, who cares… he would just make me take my hands away from there as well.
Rick’s eyes moved downward to get their fill of my little B-cup breasts. A surge of blood rushed to my cheeks as my husband licked his lips at the sight, as if he had just promised himself the leisurely enjoyment of his bride’s sweet young tits.
He raised his gaze and looked into my eyes.
“Offer them to me,” he said, his voice clear and firm. “Put your hands underneath and offer me your pretty breasts.”
CHAPTER 20
Mandy
My jaw went slack.
Slut. He wants you to… to do that. The thing he said. I could see it in my mind’s eye, but I couldn’t even seem to repeat the words to myself, my husband’s filthy words.
If Rick could say… say what he had just said, what else could he say? He hadn’t even said any dirty words, had he? He had said breasts… not tits or… or jugs… not that my little, peach-like breasts could ever be called jugs…
My breath came rapidly between my parted lips. The observer seemed to have moved even further away from my actual physical body. She noted that I was clearly trying with this mental babble more than anything to avoid thinking about something else, something the observer thought I would have to pay attention to eventually.
The way my pussy had responded, when Rick had told me to offer him my pretty breasts.
I let out a sob, and I obeyed him, because I didn’t have a choice. I raised my hands and I cupped the little mounds. I gasped at the sensation, another clench seizing hold of my needy sheath, where my husband’s fingers had just proven to me how thoroughly I would belong to him from now on—if he could keep me in line.
I looked into his eyes and saw him smile with satisfaction—and with further hunger. I had done my best to keep from covering my nipples, but at the sight of that wolfish look I couldn’t help it, I moved my fingers to try to shield the tiny pink buds from his gaze.
“No,” Rick said simply. “Show me.”
They felt so stiff under my fingers, and the obviousness of the need I had tried so hard to deny and push back sent another blush to my cheeks. I moved my hands, hearing a whimper come from my chest, and I saw Rick’s eyes go downward to take in the sight he obviously enjoyed very much.
My brow creased as I thought about how strictly I had refused to let anyone—even my fiancé and then my just-married husband—see my private places. I had blushed when I thought Rick might have gotten a glimpse of my bra strap under the collar of my shirt. Why would I deny the man who loved me and wanted to take care of me the simple pleasure of looking at my body?
Slut, the observer whispered. You denied him that because you knew, deep down, that you’re a dirty little slut with a needy little hole.
I tried to keep my eyes on Rick’s face, but at the thought of how my pussy had welcomed my husband’s probing fingers I found that my gaze had gone down to the lap of his jeans. I saw a bulge, along Rick’s leg, and the sight of it made me close my mouth at last and swallow hard.