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ALWSD: LESSON DAY TWO: RUBBING CLITS

Autor: M&Cee
last update Data de publicação: 2026-01-16 15:43:36

The house felt different today. The air radiating in the apartment seemed to echo with the memory of what had happened on the sofa last night.

I had tried to work, to concentrate, but every hour or less, I found myself hard. Again and again. Now, I was sitting in my room, staring at my laptop screen, but the words just blurred together. In my mind was a loop of Angel’s wide eyes and the feeling of her small, warm hands.

I heard the front door open and slam shut; I knew she was back from sch
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    2: Finger fucked on the table.Three days had passed, and I couldn't stop thinking about Liam.I was in the living room sorting through renovation samples when the doorbell rang again. I opened it.Liam stood there in a charcoal suit, his tie loosened just enough to show the base of his throat. He held a thick envelope. “Mark needs your signature on the property addendum. Said you’re handling the contractor approvals.”I let him in without a word. The door clicked shut behind him. The house was empty except for us, and Mark was gonna be out for hours.He followed me to the dining table where the samples were spread out. I bent over the papers, with a pen in hand, aware of how my blouse pulled across my chest. Liam didn’t pretend to look away.“You’re good at this,” he said, voice low. “Managing the details while he runs the show. Most wives would’ve checked out by now.”I signed the first page, trying to ignore the way he circled behind me. “I like keeping busy.”His hand brushed my

  • PORN-STURBATION: 50 Shades Of Forbidden Steamy Short Stories   MY HUSBAND'S NEW PA

    1: Walking temptation I stood in the doorway of Mark’s home office, with a wine glass still in my hand from dinner, watching the new PA_Liam_ sort through a stack of contracts. He’d started two weeks ago, and already the house felt different.Mark had mentioned him a lot, and also didn’t fail to mention how efficient he is, that he is exactly what the company needed after the last one quit. I hadn’t expected him to be… this…tall, broad shoulders, with dark hair cut and a well chiseled jawline. His sleeves were rolled up, his forearms flexing as he flipped pages. When he glanced up, his eyes locked on mine longer than usual.“Evening, Mrs. Hargrove,” he said, his voice low and smooth. With a polite smile placed on his lips. “Didn’t mean to stay this late.”“Call me Elena,” I replied, stepping inside. Mark was already upstairs, on a call with the investor from Tokyo, and that would last for another hour. He’d kissed my cheek absently before disappearing, and it was the same as al

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    I decided to visit the village school the next morning since I heard people talk about it. The moment I stepped into the open pavilion, every head turned. Children paused their games. Teachers stopped mid-sentence. All eyes locked on me…the only person still wearing clothes in a place where nudity was completely normal. I felt their stares pressing on my shoulders. The contrast felt heavy, almost suffocating, as the morning breeze ruffled my heavy denim and cotton while they stood unbothered, completely bare to the elements. A few kids whispered. Of course they will. One older woman shook her head with a small, pitying smile. A young man smirked like I was some strange creature. I tried to ignore the attention and approached one of the teachers. “So, you’re the clothed stranger everyone's talking about” she said, her voice calm and melodic. “Are you here to observe?” Do I always have to be called the clothed stranger? Is it really that weird to wear clothes? I cl

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    I decided to visit the village school the next morning since I heard people talk about it. The moment I stepped into the open pavilion, every head turned. Children paused their games. Teachers stopped mid-sentence. All eyes locked on me…the only person still wearing clothes in a place where nudity was completely normal. I felt their stares pressing on my shoulders. The contrast felt heavy, almost suffocating, as the morning breeze ruffled my heavy denim and cotton while they stood unbothered, completely bare to the elements. A few kids whispered. Of course they will. One older woman shook her head with a small, pitying smile. A young man smirked like I was some strange creature. I tried to ignore the attention and approached one of the teachers. “So, you’re the clothed stranger everyone's talking about” she said, her voice calm and melodic. “Are you here to observe?” Do I always have to be called the clothed stranger? Is it really that weird to wear clothes? I cleared my th

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