DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS

Waking up this morning  with a wet pussy was the craziest,most disorienting experience I could have ever asked for. I shot awake right in the middle of a Saturday, my heart hammering against my ribs, caught in the lingering, heavy haze of a dream I couldn't quite remember. But my body remembered exactly what happened.

Every nerve ending was painfully alert, radiating a fierce, aggressive heat that demanded attention. I was flushed, slick, and damp with a fine sheen of sweat, trapped in a relentless wave of morning arousal. It was as if the intense passion from my subconscious had seeped directly into my waking reality, and I had absolutely no clue how to turn it off.

Normally, I’d turn to the easy fix of watching something to take the edge off, and while I had no problem watching p**n, actually taking matters into my own hands was where I drew the line. My personal rules were my personal rules, and self-pleasure was completely off the table.

So there I was, tangled in the bedsheets, fighting off a sudden, boiling fever. It was a maddening kind of torture,feeling so intensely wet, overheated, and hyper-stimulated, yet rigidly bound by my own principles. I couldn't masturbate, I didn't have any toys, and the craving just hung there in the quiet of the morning, buzzing in my veins and forcing me to just lie there and ride it out.

The memory of him had haunted me for months, rooted in that afternoon by the pool when the air seemed to hum with an unspoken tension.  What was meant to be a simple swimming lesson from a father figure had felt far more intimate; as he guided me through the water, the proximity of his muscular frame against mine,his big hard cock poking me from behind felt like a spark in a dry forest. It was a fleeting moment, one that appeared entirely innocent to his wife Kiara,and their children as they played nearby, yet it had all left me breathless.

Even now,I found myself spiraling,agonizing over whether that brief contact was merely accidental or a deliberate sign of something more.  The memory of his steady hands on my waist sent another jolt of heat through me,leaving me breathless and conflicted.

A week before my dad travelled, Mr Wade had called him,frantically searching for a secluded sanctuary to escape the chaos of his demanding project and his hyperactive kids. My father eagerly offered our home, welcoming him to stay in one of our many quiet, private spare rooms which was directly next to mine. 

Did Mr Wade seriously think he would find any peace with me around? I had watched him from afar for years at galas,family dinners, and outings. The first  time I saw him with his beautiful wife,Kiara, and their three kids,a sharp bitter jealousy had coiled in my chest. I hated that she was lucky enough to  call him hers,because trust me, beneath that polished veneer, the man was a walking, breathing, irresistible disaster. 

I had become captivated by his every move, my gaze  would linger on his features, recalling the way his expression shifted when he was in deep thought or the slight quiver of his lips when he felt the pressure of his work.

Everytime I saw him, I had to remind myself of the boundaries that stood between us-boundaries guarded by his family, my dad and the life he had built with Kiara. I knew acknowledging this magnetic pull was a dangerous game. 

However, since my father's departure, the atmosphere in the house had shifted. The silence between us during meals,the unspoken words, and the way his eyes seemed to brighten with a mischievous spark,  a look that made my heart race and my resolve waver. Leaving me to wonder if the same restless thoughts keeping me awake were also occupying his mind. It felt as though we were both standing on the edge of something  life-changing, and I was desperate to know if this electricity was real or just a figment of my imagination.

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Enough with my stupid fantasy and unsolvable libido,let's go grab my usual black coffee!.

It's Saturday and our housemaid Mrs.Cosmos was off.

I made my coffee, then in order to play the good daughter,  I made Mr. Wade's coffee too…mine was black, the way I liked it,no sugar, no milk but it seemed Mr Wade fancied milk and sugar,so I added them to the coffee.

I began humming a verse from Burna Boy’s song that Ed Sheeran was featured on….. For my hand yeah,that's the song.

Did I remember to mention earlier that I was a Burna freak? I had him all over the four walls of my room,wouldn't miss his concerts for anything in the world and not sure I could go a day without listening to him. His music was my therapy. 

Just as I stepped my left foot on the threshold, I saw the door ajar,didn't bother ringing, I just went straight in. Oh instinct’s a fucker, I thought  as I dropped his own cup of coffee on the night stand. 

He wasn't inside, although I wondered where he'd gone. I didn't hear the shower turn off nor did I hear Mr Wade walk out of the bathroom as his towel slipped off his waist by mistake. 

A heavenly mistake because trust me immediately I turned,  I was looking at something so utterly clean and sinful that I didn't mind spanking. 

Mr Wade seemed absent or probably didn't notice another presence in the room as he bent his naked creamy ass to pick up his towel.

My pussy clenched hard as I placed a leg over the other.

“Jess?” I didn't hear him groan my name as my eyes acted solely on their own, tracing  down his body………. From his beautiful perfect abs to his  lovely broad chest then lower….

My heart beating erratically in my chest as I held my breath to find Mr.  Wade's big pink cock hard and ready! Pointing right in my face!!!.

Oh Lord or Lucifer just return me to dust!!!