Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 33(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 8193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 33(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
“Yessss,” I scream as he shows no signs of stopping.
“Take my cock, wife. Show me how much you want it,” he says, and my pussy clenches around him. “Good girl, but this is what you get after being bad, showing other men what’s mine.” Then he does something I never thought he would. He smacks my clit. Hard. Over and over. I scream. In pain, in delight. I don’t know, but I don’t want it to stop. His other hand slaps my nipples, back and forth between the two, and I go over the edge as he keeps driving into me. I’m making such a mess as I squirt all over his cock, his abs, and the sofa, which I’ve definitely never done. I’ve scooted so far up the velvet that we are nowhere near where he originally tossed me. He throws his head back and comes inside of me, but when he pulls out, he’s still coming and hits the top of my pussy, my thighs, my belly, my chest, and my face. Holy shit. It’s never been like this.
I can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him.
THREE
LORENZO
When I walked into the club about an hour and a half ago, I thought I’d make love to my wife in her office, as we’ve done before, but then I saw her fucking outfit. I saw the hungry look the men in this club were giving her. She’s easily the most beautiful woman in the whole damn place, but this place caters to men and women who love thick, curvy girls, and my wife is thick. Her creamy skin makes me crazy, so I can only imagine what runs through other men’s heads when they see her, especially here, where all the customers fetishize women who look like my wife, whereas I only have eyes for her.
I was so fucking pissed I took myself into a private room to cool down. I knew she’d check it before she left for the night. I took my gun from my back holster and set it on the table.
And I waited. Eventually, she turned up, and I made her strip that outfit off and dance for me. She’s so goddamned sexy; it should be a crime. She’s thirty-eight with six children, she shouldn’t look like a siren from the sea sent here to lure me to my death, but she does. I’ve always kept myself in check while I made love to her because of what her pig of an ex-husband did to her when Santy was conceived. I was always gentle with her, even though I needed more sometimes.
Tonight, I snapped. I fucked her so hard, smacked her even, and now she’s squirting her release all over me. Immediately I rub my thumb into her clit hard, flinging it like a fucking animal, making even more of a mess, but I don’t care. I feel like a fucking king right now. She’s screaming and moaning her head off, trying to get away from me, but I hold her in place.
“Come, baby. Keep coming,” I demand as I feel another orgasm rise up in my balls and explode all over her tits and bra. “Fuck, Betty!” I yell, my hands digging into her hips, knowing I’m bruising her. Marking her. Leaning down, I kiss her and then let her go.
“Where the fuck has that been?” she asks, gasping for breath as she tries to stand up. I help her to her feet and watch as she pulls her bra back up into place and pulls her panties back on.
“I was pissed off,” I say, feeling very little remorse for the bruises already forming on her hips and my bite marks on her tits.
“Will that be repeated?” she asks as she continues getting dressed. I tuck my cock back in my pants and reach for my gun, putting it back where it belongs.
“That depends,” I reply.
“On?” she asks, and I stalk toward her, pulling her into my arms. She smells like my cologne and sex.
“If you liked it or not,” I rasp into her ear. I feel her goosebumps rising.
“Obviously, I did. I’ve never done that before.”
“You squirted your release. All over me. Do you know how fucking sexy that was?”
“You came all over me. That was hot too.”
“Let’s get you home, so I can clean you up and dirty you all over again.”
“So it’s happening again?”
“Yeah, baby. As long as it doesn't trigger anything for you,” I say.
“Like what?”
“What Sal did to you,” I say, taking her hand and leaving the room. The club is already being cleaned. “Throw that sofa out from that room and bring in a new one.”
“Of course, Mr. Vitali,” the man says.
“Thank you, Marco,” Betty says as we walk toward the club's front doors. “That was nothing like what we just did in there, Lorenzo. I want you. I love you. I’ll never say no, but I know you’d stop if I did. Let’s go home.” She squeezes my hand. I sent Clyde home since I’m here.