Charlotte
The dance had ended, but my body was still buzzing with the memory of his c**k on my p***y entrance.
Two f*****g hours of just bouncing on his c**k, and it still wasn’t enough.
I wanted more, needed more, but I couldn’t say it. He’s my fiancé’s father.
That word should have meant something, should have stopped me, but it only made everything hotter.
The brief peck on my forehead and his verbal thanks stung slightly.
“Feel free to sleep in my room if you’d like to,” he murmured in the otherwise silent house, the words themselves so warm.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I agreed and followed him to his bedroom. We were both naked. I climbed onto the mattress.
The sheets smelled of him. Sweat and s*x and a musky, untraceable something I’d like to be swimming in for all time.
