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...