The next morning, my body felt completely used. My p***y was sore, puffy, and still leaking faint traces of Adrian’s thick c*m no matter how much I tried to clean myself in the shower. I could feel the slight ache with every step I took. I chose a modest black dress that hugged my curves but covered everything properly. Still, as I sat at my desk, I kept my thighs pressed tightly together, hyper-aware of how raw my cunt felt.
Sarah walked by my desk a little after nine, carrying a stack of files. She gave me a sweet, professional smile for anyone watching, then leaned down and whispered right next to my ear, “Morning, Grace. That cunt still full of his c*m like a good little breeding slut? I can still taste both of you on my tongue.”
My face burned with shame. I didn’t reply. Guilt was e
