Diary Of A Married Whore (4)DERRICK'S POV I parked my car down the street and sat for a minute, watching the lights in her house glow warm against the night.I knew her husband was out of town because she had told me earlier that day. Her voice had been tight and guilty when she said she would finally have a quiet weekend to herself.I laughed when I heard that. She still thought she had a life that belonged to her. She did not. Not anymore.I walked up the driveway with no hesitation. My boots hit the pavement loud enough for her to hear me coming.She opened the door before I knocked. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, and her breath unsteady.“Derrick,” she whispered. She sounded like she had seen a ghost.I leaned against the frame and smirked. “That’s right, little whore. Aren’t you going to let me in?”She stepped aside slowly, her arms crossed over her chest as she trembled.I brushed past her into the living room. The space was neat, polished, and staged like a magazine sprea
Diary Of A Married Whore (3)SASHA POVI felt sick when I walked back to the booth.My husband was still talking, waving his fork around like he was holding court. He didn’t notice my shaking hands, the way my legs threatened to give out beneath me. He didn’t notice anything, not really.But Derrick did.I could feel his eyes on me from across the restaurant, the heat of his stare burning through my blouse. I forced myself to smile at my husband, to nod when he bragged about some deal, but every breath I took felt heavy with Derrick’s presence.The worst part was the truth. He had me. I couldn’t deny it. If he told my husband what had happened in that hotel room, my marriage would be over. My life would be over.And yet, the memory of Derrick’s mouth, his hands, his voice calling me his little whore, made my thighs press together under the table. I hated myself for it.I hated him for it even more.That night, when my husband fell asleep, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. My phone b
Diary Of A Married Whore (2)DERRICK'S POV I closed the door behind me without a sound, sliding the key card into my pocket. My cock was still wet, my chest still heaving from the way she had come undone beneath me.Her moans lingered in my ears, that desperate sound a married woman makes when she knows she’s doing something she’ll never admit. That was the part that hooked me. Not her body, though it was good, but the risk. The way her wedding ring gleamed when she stroked my cock, when she grabbed at the sheets like a sinner clinging to church pews.I pulled out my pack of cigarettes, lit one, and leaned against the hallway wall. The smoke filled my lungs, sharp and grounding.“Derrick, what the hell are you doing?” I muttered to myself.This wasn’t the first time. I told myself each time would be the last, but I always found another woman who was lonely, restless, trapped in some marriage that made her look past me like I was invisible. Then she’d smile, just a little, and I’d kno
I had never done anything like this before. I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it. Things were bad at home, but had it really come to this?Just a few hours ago, I had wandered across the street from my hotel to the bar and grill for something to eat.Now I was staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, while a strange man sat on my hotel bed waiting for me.I brushed a curl from my face and stared at my reflection. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might split my chest open. I felt lightheaded but thrilled. I remembered the first time I had sex. It was at my dorm room, with my college boyfriend.It was awkward but sweet. I still remember how he made me feel wanted, and I wrapped my legs around him like he was the only man I’d ever need.This felt nothing like that. This was not soft or innocent. This was reckless, filthy, forbidden. The thought twisted in my stomach, but instead of pulling me back, it made me wet. I smirked at myself in the mirror. Little whore. That was wha
Fucking Aubrey (6)The bathroom was quiet except for the steady rush of water over our skin. My body still trembled from the intensity of what had just happened. My legs were weak, my chest heaving, and yet, when I tried to pull away, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t.“You feel amazing,” I whispered into her hair, my lips brushing her temple. I pressed her closer to me, feeling the heat of her soaked body against mine. Every curve, every shiver under my touch made my heart pound and something low in my belly coil tighter.She tilted her head back slightly, letting me trace my fingers along the curve of her neck, across her shoulders, down her spine. Her breath hitched, and I could feel the way her muscles tensed under my touch, ready, hungry, and completely mine.“I can’t even think straight,” she murmured against my collarbone, voice shaky. “You’ve ruined me.”“Yes,” I whispered, letting my lips brush over hers, soft at first, then more urgent, tasting, claiming. “I like it w
Fucking Aubrey (5)Water splashed everywhere, our skin slapping in sharp, wet sounds. I gripped her hips tight, pounding into her, the base grinding against my clit with every thrust. Her moans shredded the steam around us, her body quivering like she could shatter at any second.“You take this cock so well,” I growled, leaning over her back, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re mine to fuck, Aubrey.”“Yes—fuck—yours,” she sobbed, clawing at the tiles. “Harder—don’t stop.”Her ass slammed against me in time with my thrusts. Her tits bounced wildly, each movement sending sparks through my skin. She was incoherent, babbling my name between gasps, and I knew she was completely lost to me.“You wanted me to ruin you,” I snarled, slapping her ass hard enough to make her jolt. “Now beg for it.”“Please—Lena—don’t stop—I’m so close—” she whimpered.I drove into her harder, the water making everything slicker, more frantic. My clit rubbed relentlessly against the base, each movement drawing shar