In his room.
I was tempted to trespass on his property and crawl through her window. Nothing sexier than fucking a married woman right in her own bed with her husband down the hall. My cock would ram into her, and I would fill the condom over and over…while he had no idea how sore his wife’s pussy would be the next day. How about I come over?
You would never make it past security.
I grinned. Is that a challenge?
No. I want to keep screwing you, and I can’t do that if you’re dead.
You underestimate me, baby.
I can’t underestimate a man I hardly know.
You know my dick pretty well.
Her next words popped up with a bit of fire. Fuck you.
I wish, baby.
The three dots disappeared.
I knew I hadn’t actually made her angry, but she was just playing hard to get. When does he leave?
Probably tomorrow. He’s usually gone on the weekends.
The asshole imprisoned his wife like an exotic animal. He kept her in a cage so he could show her off, but he didn’t care about leaving her in the cage while he was gone, suffering in isolation. She was simply a pretty bird to stare at when he was around. But once he was gone, she was forgotten. He spent his time fucking whores when he had already had a beautiful woman he owned. Maybe if he tried a little harder to please her, she would actually widen her legs and show him the enthusiasm she showed me. Then I’ll see you tomorrow night.
Maybe.
She was such a tease. Send me a pic of those panties.
You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
But I need to jerk off now.
Use the internet.
Are you on the internet? I smiled like a smartass. Come on, baby. Give me something good. Lots of tits and lace.
The dots were long gone.
She didn’t mind being dirty when we were in the same room, but now she ‘d found vanity. Unless she was torturing me on purpose. Or maybe she didn’t have makeup on so she was self-conscious. Like she wouldn’t be just as gorgeous without it. In fact, she’d probably look better. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
The dots never appeared, but then an image filled my screen.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
Showing one hand down the front of her panties, her tits on full display, and only her red lips visible, it was the sexiest picture I’d ever seen. She was fucking perfect, so undeniably sexy that I couldn’t even write a response.
My hand dived into my nightstand and snatched the lube before I jerked off like I hadn’t climaxed in months. I went to town hard on my dick, breaking a sweat and breathing deeply. This was much better than porn because it was real, because I remembered how those tits felt in my palm, how that pussy felt around my dick.
I came all over my stomach while my eyes were glued to the dirty picture. My body tightened and shuddered as I released, feeling so much pleasure, it radiated all the way to my toes. Jerking off never felt as good as fucking a woman, but somehow, this had felt just as good.
I stared at the come dripping from the head of my cock before I snapped a picture. I was still hard because my dick wasn’t ready to relax just yet. It was too proud, too satisfied at the moment.
I texted the picture. Thanks, baby.
14
Cassini
When I walked into the dining room, Lucian was on the phone, talking to one of his assistants about the travel arrangements he had for the day. He stood near the window in his three-piece suit, sauntering back and forth as he barked orders to the poor woman over the line.
I stepped inside to join him for breakfast. Last night, he’d wanted me in his bed, but I was so horny when we were through that I returned to my bedroom after he went to sleep so I could touch myself—and think of Balto.
If only he had sent me that dick pic before.
Come dripped down his large dick, the thick vein noticeable in his shaft. There was so much come, and he produced all of it in such a short amount of time—for me. It turned me on enough that my fingers dove back into my panties, and I rubbed my clit as I stared at his dick.
So fucking sexy.
Lucian paced by with one hand in his pocket and then spotted me at the table. He abruptly ended his phone call. “I’ll call you back.” Without taking his eyes off me, he hung up the phone and strode to my side of the table. “Morning, Beautiful.” His affection was much worse than his indifference, especially now that I received it all the time. He leaned down and kissed me on the mouth.
I kissed him back, swallowing my disgust. I felt like a dog that would be swatted on the nose if I didn’t obey. My promise forced my smartass comment back, and I fulfilled my duty. “Morning. How are you?” I’d touched myself twice last night—and one of those times included a picture of another man’s dick. I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it. Lucian had been sleeping with whores since the day I became his wife. And even if he hadn’t, he’d forced me to give up my life to save someone I loved. So disgusting. But you would never know I felt this way—judging by the polite way I spoke to him.