"I Need You"

Sarah's phone buzzed softly on the nightstand. It was probably a reply from Mark. She didn’t reach for it. Instead she stayed there, breathing slow, pussy still tender and wet, caught between the anger and the unwanted heat the memory had stirred up all over again.

Sarah lay there for another long minute, thighs still parted, the cool air brushing over her slick, sensitive pussy. The sheets were damp beneath her ass. Her phone buzzed again on the nightstand, insistent this time. She reached for it lazily, expecting another message from her soon-to-be-ex. Her thumb unlocked the screen.

The name at the top made her stomach drop.

Barrister Mark Thompson

Her divorce lawyer.

The message she had sent stared back at her in the chat history, so fucking bold and unmistakable...she had sent that damned embarrassing message to her Lawyer.

She had sent it to the wrong Mark.

Sarah read his reply over and over and over...

"I understand that you're horny, but going back to him won't help you heal... I can help you stretch that pussy wide."

Heat flooded her face with a mix of mortification and dark waves of need.

“Oh my God…” she whispered, sitting up quickly. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She read the words again, then again, as if they might rearrange themselves into something less explicit.

All those late-night calls about the divorce papers, the professional tone, the polite distance he’d always kept — gone in one stupid, horny mistake. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled up, confirming there was no way to unsend it. The message had already delivered... He has read it, and fucking replied to it...

Anxiety twisted tight in her chest. What the hell was he thinking right now? Did he think she was pathetic? Desperate? Or worse, what if he was actually serious about that reply?

Stretch that pussy wide...fuck...those words.

But even as panic crawled up her spine, her body was still betraying her. Fresh wetness leaked from her still-swollen cunt, trickling slowly down toward her ass. Her clit throbbed faintly, echoing the aftershocks from the Rose earlier. She pressed her thighs together instinctively, feeling the slick slide of her own arousal, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips.

“No… fuck,” she breathed, cheeks burning hotter. She should delete the thread. Apologize. Explain it was a mistake meant for her cheating husband. Instead, she stared at his message, reading it again. The casual confidence in it made her pussy clench hard around nothing.

She shifted on the bed, knees falling open once more. One hand drifted down before she could stop herself, fingertips gliding through the messy wetness coating her pussy lips.

Her mind was racing as she rubbed her pussy all over again.

"This is insane. He’s handling my divorce." She whispered to herself.

A second message from him dropped on her phone and Sarah rushed to open and read it.

"If that message was meant for someone else, I apologize. But if you need relief while we finalize everything… my offer still stands."

Sarah’s breath hitched, while her pussy fluttered. She bit her lip, thighs trembling as she fought the urge to push her fingers inside herself right then.

She set the phone down but didn’t close the chat, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her nipples were tight again, aching. The room still carried the thick scent of her earlier orgasm. Part of her wanted to crawl under the covers and pretend none of this had happened. The rest of her... the part that had been neglected for months...throbbed with fresh, desperate fucking need.

She stayed like that for a long while, legs spread, fingers resting lightly against her soaked entrance, caught between the anxiety clawing at her mind and the insistent, wet heat demanding attention.

Sarah’s fingers moved slowly between her legs, gliding through the slick mess she’d made earlier. She was still soaked, her pussy lips puffy and sensitive from the Rose. She traced lazy circles around her clit, then dipped two fingers inside, feeling her walls clench greedily around them. A low, breathy moan slipped out as she pumped slowly, the wet sounds filling the quiet bedroom again.

“Mmm…” She curled her fingers, stroking that spot that made her toes flex. Her hips rocked gently against her hand, chasing the building heat. For a few minutes she lost herself in it... the smooth slide, the way her juices coated her fingers and dripped down to her ass with every thrust. Her free hand cupped one breast, pinching the nipple until it stung sweetly.

But the pleasure stayed shallow. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

Sarah groaned in frustration, pulling her fingers out with a wet sound. She wiped them on her thigh, staring at the ceiling. “This isn’t going to fix it,” she muttered. No toy, no fingers, nothing was going to kill this deep, aching need. She knew exactly what her body wanted: a real man. Thick cock stretching her open, strong hands pinning her down, someone actually fucking her until she couldn’t think.

She closed her eyes for a long second, breathing deeply. The image of Barrister Mark flashed through her mind — his calm, professional voice, the confident way he’d replied like it was nothing. Her pussy throbbed hard at the thought, another fresh trickle of wetness leaking out.

When she opened her eyes, the decision was already made.

She grabbed her phone, heart racing, and opened the chat with Barrister Mark. Her thumbs hovered for only a moment before she typed the words and hit send.

"I need you"

The message appeared on the screen, bold and irreversible. Sarah’s breath caught. She set the phone down on her chest, staring at it as if it might fucking explode. Her legs stayed spread, pussy still dripping onto the sheets, the anxiety and raw hunger twisting together inside her.

The reply came faster than she expected. Her phone vibrated almost immediately.

Barrister Mark: My office is empty after 7. Come by if you’re serious. I’ll make sure that ache gets taken care of properly."

Sarah’s thighs pressed together instinctively, a fresh wave of heat flooding her core. She bit her lip, reading the words again, her fingers already drifting back down toward her soaked pussy as she tried to steady her breathing.

Fuck... this was really happening.