Derek left for the late client at 5:40.
He kissed me in the kitchen, told me Reid had booked the six o’clock slot and to let him in if he showed up early, then grabbed his bag and headed out. The second the door closed my phone buzzed.
Five minutes. Mat. Plug out. Sports bra only. He’s not back till eight. I’m using every minute.
I was on my hands and knees when the code beeped at 5:47. Reid locked the door, dropped his bag, and looked at me—sports bra, nothing else, plug already removed, cunt swollen and slick from holding everything since Sunday. He didn’t speak. He crossed the mat, shoved two fingers into me, and groaned at how wet and open I was.
“Still full from the weekend,” he said. “Good. He’s going to f**k you later and never know how many loads are already in here.”
He freed
