I Fingered My Neglected Married p***y By The Pool Until The Vicar’s Wife Caught Me
I slammed the phone onto the kitchen counter so hard it nearly shattered.
“Baby, the elders’ meeting is running late again. Don’t wait up.”
That was it. No apology. No “I miss you.” Just another cold excuse from the man who was supposed to be my husband.
Three months in this beautiful new house and he still hadn’t f****d me properly once. Not even a quickie. I cooked for him, kept the house perfect, wore the sexy little sundresses he used to love — and for what? So I could eat alone and go to bed with a throbbing, aching cunt every single night?
I was done.
The frustration boiled over into something filthy and reckless. I stormed out to the backyard, the sun blazing down on our private pool area. High
