Chapter 1

"Michael, it's my first time. Go easy on me…"

Deep into the night, a young woman dressed in nothing but socks knelt before me, her face flushed as she stared at me with her glistening eyes.

"Shh. Take it like a good girl…" I said, sliding my fingers into her wet mouth.

She sucked on them obediently, her tongue greedily dancing around my fingertips. Quiet whimpers escaped from her throat. That was probably the most melodious sound a woman could make.

My name was Michael Jones, and I had tied the knot not long ago. Once, my wife's sister, Annie Larsson, came to Geordan during her summer break and temporarily stayed at our place.

In the height of summer, she wore a thin camisole and tiny shorts every day, not even bothering with a bra. When she walked and sat, her breasts always looked perky.

Her thin waist was enticing to look at, and her round, soft butt was always arched in a seductive curve. No man could keep his thoughts straight, especially not someone like me, who was both bold and dirty-minded.

The fact that she was my wife's sister made the whole fantasy even more appealing.

Sometimes, I would take advantage of her by teasing her—brushing against her chest, touching her butt, pinching her waist, and, naturally, admiring those long, slim legs.

At one point, I came to realize Annie's Achilles' heel. When she was being dominated, she couldn't bring herself to fight back and could only take it quietly.

Once, I went into the bathroom for a shower and found a pair of panties she had forgotten to put away. I was just holding and admiring them when she suddenly snatched them and held them against her chest, as if she were protecting them.

I pretended to seize them, only to hold onto her smooth breasts instead. She always wore a thin camisole at home without a bra, so it felt just like touching flesh. Reluctant to let go, I played with her softness again.

Annie was stunned for a solid few seconds. When she saw that I was aroused, she gasped and quickly bolted out of the bathroom, her face burning.

And so, after a few attempts, I could almost feel myself consumed by lust.

I quickly finished my shower and returned to my bedroom with my hardness. Seeing that my wife, Britney Larsson, was already sleeping on her side, I climbed into the bed without a second thought.

From behind, I grabbed her waist and positioned her in doggy style, yanking her underwear down to her knees, making it scrunch together.

Britney moaned. "What's gotten into you, honey? You're very riled up."

It took her a good 30 seconds before she came to her senses. Without looking back, she nudged her butt toward me. "Go slow… I'm not wet yet…"

"I just really want to be inside you. That's all," I rasped.

Britney had always been sensitive and a loud moaner in bed. Usually, I would take my time with foreplay before diving into the real game. Tonight, however, she became strangely quiet, knowing she had a guest.

I, on the other hand, wanted to create a commotion precisely because of that. I wanted Annie to hear us. So, I deliberately spoke crudely to Britney while thrusting against her round, bouncy butt.

"You like that? You like the way I'm screwing you?"

Irresistibly, Britney let out a long, sultry moan. Her rear was arched high. Gasps and whimpers slipped out from her throat like a symphony, and her seductive charm practically overflowed from her being.

"Don't stop… Oh, I love it…"

At that moment, I caught a glimpse of our bedroom door, which had somehow cracked open. A shadow stirred behind it. Was Annie peeping?

I glanced sideways again. Through the crack, I saw her kneeling behind the door, her underwear showing. With her mouth half-open and her chest heaving, she watched me, her cheeks glowing with color.