After my husband left for work, I hurried to the bedroom, my heart pounding with anticipation. I slipped off my robe, letting it pool at my feet, and pulled on the red lace negligee. It clung to me like a second skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. The hem barely grazed my thighs, highlighting my lean legs, while the lace cupped my breasts, spilling over the top, accentuating every curve. My loose golden-brown...

Emma stood before the bathroom mirror, her fingers tracing the delicate outline of her heart-shaped necklace of white gold, a symbol of her enduring bond with Nathan, gifted to celebrate their five-year journey together. Several weeks had elapsed since "the incident" with Dan, and she had endeavored to suppress it, relegating the memory to the darkest corners of her mind. Whenever Nathan suggested having Dan over, she str...

Sarah Johnson was a beautiful blond. She was 26 years old with large rounds tits and a killer ass. I had worked at her house before, but Jake Johnson, her husband, had always instructed me in what I needed to fix. Jake was only a few years older and was as tall as me, but not as fit. He had what you would call a dad's body. Sarah met me at the door in her robe. She said that there was a problem in her bedroom with the lig...

Emma woke up with a start the next morning, still wearing her clothes from the night before, soaked with semen and sweat. A quick glance at her clock sent a jolt of adrenaline through her: it was already 9:50, and Nathan was due to arrive at 10:00, with his usual punctuality. Jumping up, she quickly stripped off yesterday's outfit and rushed to the bathroom. Emma stepped under the hot water of her shower, trying to cleans...

The smell of sizzling bacon lures me from the warmth of the bed. I put on Sir's flannel shirt, which has been discarded carelessly on the floor, a lingering reminder of last night's passion. The soft fabric drapes over my naked skin, enveloping me in his masculine scent as I walk to the kitchen, the floor cool beneath my bare feet. As I step into the kitchen, Sir stands at the stove, dressed only in black boxers. Bacon cr...

The sticky summer heat clung to Marco's skin as he watched Luciana sway her hips, approaching the gaucho for what felt like the thousandth time. His blood boiled, and his fists clenched as he observed their interaction from across the crowded bar. "Hola, mi amor," the gaucho purred, his voice dripping with honey as he pulled Luciana close. His ridiculous elevator shoes and spangled leather poncho made him stand out like a...

Bella sauntered into her luxurious São Paulo penthouse, her bronzed skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat from the balmy Brazilian evening. She peeled off her tight green dress, letting it pool at her feet as she stepped onto the balcony. The city lights twinkled below, matching the fire in her dark eyes as she gazed at the skyline. A knock at the door startled her from her reverie. She opened it to find João, the h...

“Oh, holy fuck,” Meg hissed under her breath. Her roommate, once again, had the music blaring, her boyfriend’s hands probing underneath her clothes as they necked on the sofa like no one was watching. Meg closed the front door quietly, not wanting them to know she had returned from the college library after hours of study and disappeared into her bedroom. She placed a stack of textbooks on her dresser and looked at her fa...

I innocently met a woman at a bar in downtown Oak Valley. It was a Thursday Night Farmers Market evening so downtown was crowded with people shopping, listening to the various music acts, and dining at the restaurants. After purchasing a few fruits and veggies, I slid into one of the more popular restaurant bars. After having a beer, I ordered a burger and my second beer when I heard a voice behind me, “Is this seat taken...

The next day, Emma awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains, her body still humming with the aftershocks of the previous night's escapades. The bed beside her was cold, the sheets empty. She could hear the distant murmur of John's voice downstairs, the low timbre of his words unmistakable. Wrapping herself in a silk robe, she padded down the stairs, her bare feet whispering against the polished wood....

Every night, I waited for Myles to call, and every night at half past eleven, he invariably did so. Lying in the darkness of my bedroom, I reveled in his voice on the line. He was careful to speak quietly while asking me about my day. I imagined him sitting in his den, leisurely stroking his cock. Was he absolutely certain his wife wouldn't catch him on the phone? I wondered. Or did he listen for the slightest noise or fo...