Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
As for the intruder - he was everything her husband wasn’t: tall and strapping, with a look of menacing hunger in his dark eyes. He wanted to fuck her, the way her husband no longer cared to do so.
When he lunged for her suddenly, she screamed, but her scream was like the sound of liberation. He tore her clothes from her body, and she screamed again, but the sound was even more erotic than the previous one, and it was too much…for me.
My fingers drifted down my body, one hand cupping my breast while my other hand began to stroke my wet and throbbing pussy over my panties.
Dirty.
So damn dirty.
The words echoed in my mind, but I didn’t care.
This was all I had, all I could do.
As the Japanese AV actress playing the housewife started to pant, I panted with her.
When the intruder pushed the housewife on the floor, I could imagine myself losing control as she did, and oh, the feeling of surrender was unimaginably exquisite.
My entire life, I had always, always been in control. How glorious it would be if I could have someone to lose control with – someone I could trust to fuck me hard without breaking me?
Moans poured out of my laptop’s speakers, and my gaze drifted back to the screen. The intruder had his pants down to his knees, and he was now fucking the housewife from behind.
Hard.
So damn hard he had her gasping, her huge breasts swaying with every thrust---
Oh God.
My fingers started moving faster.
The sound of the intruder’s balls slapping against the housewife’s naked body – the sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy – filled the room, mingling with the sounds of my own movements. Squishing sounds that should have sounded gross but oh God, they just made my insides clench even more.
Almost…almost…almost…there…
The intruder’s fingers dug into the housewife’s ass, and he stiffened for a moment before coming inside her with a harsh groan.
His body began to jerk and twitch as he came, but all the while he kept ramming into her, and the housewife moaned, her legs tightening around his waist. When she reached her climax, I was right behind her, my own lips parting to let out a whimper as my own pussy shook at the strength of my orgasm.
Sooooo…gooood…
My body arched under my still furiously moving fingers, and my eyes squeezed shut as tortuously sweet pleasure washed over me.
I kept moving my fingers, trying to extend the pleasure for as long as I could.
If only it could last forever.
If only my life could be this one long moment of bliss, this one moment where I could forget what I was in reality---
Dirty. Discarded. Disgraced.
But it never did.
“Where are you?” Jane, the owner of the newly opened La Maison de Petit Gateau, demanded the moment I answered her call. “What’s taking you so long?”
Masturbating, I thought right away. But of course I couldn’t say that to a client, or anyone for that matter. I was a wild girl in most people’s eyes, which was fine with me, but I wasn’t that wild.
“I’m coming.” I paused right after, trying not to laugh at my unintentional joke. Ah God, did I really just say that? And was I actually finding it funny?
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.” Because I already did, and it had lasted for a good two minutes, too.
“You better write me a two-page post after this,” Jane muttered. “I can’t believe you’re so late. You’ve changed so much ever since you left your old job.”
Ha. I stared at my phone as the call ended, and only after Jane had somehow manipulated me into saying yes to the two-page post. Everyone thought leaving my job had changed me, which I supposed was a blessing in disguise.
It was so much better than everyone knowing I had changed because I had fallen for him.
When I finally made it to Jane’s cupcake café, it was a few minutes past one. I was two hours late, but still well within the fashionably late realm, since the soft launch was slated to last until four.
Ignoring the daggers Jane was throwing at me from one corner – quite an accomplishment, really, considering she was also fielding questions from a couple of YouTubers – I went to work immediately, scribbling notes on my pad so I wouldn’t forget my first impressions.
The media kit Jane emailed a week ago had already given me an idea of how beautiful the place was, but even so I found myself pleasantly stunned.
The pictures don’t do it justice. My pen flew over the pad, my fingers doing its best to catch up with my thoughts. It’s charmingly gorgeous, a tiny rustic haven hidden in the heart of the city.
I flipped to the next page.
Everything about it is just cozy and cute, from its fabric lamps and teacup chandeliers to the hand-painted quotes on palette frames hanging on the multi-patterned walls. Adding a playful tone to the atmosphere is its mismatched chairs, ranging from pastel velvet couches to reupholstered armchairs boasting of whimsical designs that seemed to have been taken straight out of Wonderland.