Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Except I have a secret. In my fantasies, I often dream about being claimed by two men. Yes, I crave two hard, hot, hung alpha males to make my blood boil and my insides go hot in the best of ways. Even Jessica doesn’t know my innermost desires, but frankly, those MFM stories are my favorite.
Maybe I’m more like my father than I care to admit. Is wanting two men greedy? I’m overflowing with love and maybe one man isn’t enough to satisfy me. Maybe it’s a disease, come to think of it. It has crossed my mind that I’m some kind of weirdo because I almost always fantasize about two men at once when I haven’t even lost my virginity to just one yet. But a girl wants what she wants.
Plus, it’s not like I’m getting my wishes fulfilled anytime soon. I’ve dated a couple of boys in my school, but those relationships didn’t really go very far because I was too insecure. My curves make me look so different from the other girls at school, and I’ve overheard some of the boys calling me “fat” before. I’m used to it, but it still hurts my feelings. Jess says that they just can’t appreciate a womanly body like mine, and that my curves intimidate them. She says I need a real man. She doesn’t know how right she is – it’s just that I need two of them.
Confident that my parents and the staff have all gone to bed, I abandon my trusted spot by the bay window and undress. I can’t wait to get into bed and read a few more chapters of my latest historical romance. I choose a white, silky nightdress with a lace bodice; it’s not like anyone but I will see it, but I enjoy feeling sexy when I read my books. In fact, I have a whole collection of sexy night things I like to wear when I’m in reading mode, similar to how some people like to listen to certain playlists when they’re working. And the material of this particular nightdress always feels so soft against my skin and allows my nipples to poke through the lace tantalizingly.
Once in position in bed, I pick up my Kindle, prop myself up against my pillows, and pick up where I left off. This one’s good – it’s about a lady in 17th century England whose noble position affords her anything she wants, but she’s bored. She disguises herself as a peasant girl and decides to go to the market, but then she’s unexpectedly kidnapped by a group of outlaws. But they’re not cruel to her. In fact, she starts to enjoy their company, and then they start fighting each other for her. In this chapter, she’s rescued from the mayhem by her two favorite outlaws, who throw her over their shoulder and take her to safety in a clearing in a forest. She’s insanely turned on by their actions, and frankly, so am I.
As I read about how their strong, sun-kissed, barrel chests are revealed after they take off their dirty shirts, my breath starts to quicken. I’m there with the lady when she feels her pussy moisten as she sees their hard pecs, their washboard abs, and the dark hair that leads down to their huge cocks, hard and throbbing already as they bear down on her. I rub my nipples as I continue reading, feeling my pussy clench in lust for these alpha males. I slip my fingers into my panties and dip them in between my creamy lips, but I don’t know how to satisfy the burning urge there.
I find myself wishing I had a man to take me with his huge cock so that all of the frustration of the past years would be released in one single, intense orgasm. It’d be a huge relief, frankly. And to make it even better, I’d want to come while another huge cock, for extra spice, slid down my throat with his balls in my face, like in some of my novels. This dirty thought flushes me with excitement, but for some reason, I just can’t crest tonight. My fingers aren’t enough, and with an empty moan, I roll over and switch off the light, shrouding myself in loneliness and frustration. It’s hard to fall asleep given my excitement, but after what feels like hours, I drift off to dreamland.
Or at least, I think I must have drifted off because I awaken abruptly, feeling startled and disoriented. Where am I? Seventeenth century England? It’s only when I see the glittering lights of the city through my bay window that I realize I’m at home, in bed. But then it strikes me: I closed my curtains before I went to bed, like I always do. Or did I? Right now, they’re wide open but carelessly pulled aside, and not tied up in the practiced side bow I normally do. Then, there’s a slight hiss in the corner and I sit upright in bed. There’s someone in my room!