The house felt different that Friday early evening. The golden light of a summer evening fell through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom floor. Carrie stood in front of the full-length mirror with the largest emerald plug already inside her from the night before. It was thick and heavy, and pressed deep with every small movement. She’d barely slept and her mind replayed Joe’s tongue and fingers moving w...

Monday evening arrived like a slow burn. The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the floorboards. Carrie stood in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, the small velvet box open on the dresser. The sapphire-jeweled plug glinted under the lamp. Rick sat on the edge of the bed, watching her with a mix of awe and barely contained hunger. “Are you sure about t...

The week after their first night with Joe had been a slow, delicious burn. Carrie’s phone buzzed constantly with little discreet notifications that made her cheeks flush and her thighs press together, no matter where she was. Joe texted like he did everything else: measured, teasing, always leaving her wanting more. Monday evening: Joe: Thinking about that talented mouth of yours, darling. The way you swallowed me down… e...

Rick had always known Carrie was the kind of woman who turned heads. At thirty-five, she still had the toned body of her college cheerleading days, with soft curves in all the right places; full breasts, a narrow waist, and an ass that looked incredible in anything tight. But it was her confidence that really did it: the way she walked, the playful glint in her brown eyes, the subtle smirk that said she knew exactly what...