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Chapter Nine – The Housewife Next Door
Last Updated:
2025-06-19 17:20:19
Latest chapter
Wet Confessions Confession No. 64: Whispers behind closed doors
The house buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses as family members caught up after months apart. The scent of roasted meat and fresh herbs filled the air, mingling with the warmth of old stories and shared memories. I slipped into the kitchen, hoping to escape the noise for a moment, when a faint murmur stopped me in my tracks.Behind the slightly ajar door to the study, two familiar voices whispered low, urgent, and dripping with secrets. I leaned closer, heart pounding, careful not to make a sound.“It’s been impossible to keep this hidden,” one voice confessed, thick with emotion. “Every stolen moment feels like a betrayal, but I can’t stay away.”The other replied, breathless and trembling, “We risk everything but it’s the only thing that feels real.”A shiver ran down my spine. The forbidden nature of their words sparked something deep inside me a mix of curiosity and something darker, a craving for what I wasn’t supposed to want.As the whispers continued, I realized I wasn’t
Wet Confessions Chapter 21: The Family Heirloom
The air inside Grandmother’s estate was thick with dust and memories, a faint scent of lavender mingling with the aged wood and worn fabric. I pulled open a heavy, creaking drawer in the attic, the dim light barely illuminating the cluttered room. Old photographs spilled onto the floor, yellowed letters tied with faded ribbons, and trinkets from a lifetime I never truly knew.Then, my fingers brushed against something unexpected a leather-bound diary, its cover soft but worn, edges frayed like it had been handled many times before. I hesitated, then opened it, the faint scent of old paper rising to meet me.The first page was a delicate scrawl in elegant handwriting. My grandmother’s voice intimate and raw spilled out in ink. The diary wasn’t just a journal. It was a secret map to a hidden life: whispered names, stolen moments, forbidden desires. One passage caught my breath:“He is my closest friend, yet the tension between us burns brighter than any flame I have known. If the world
Wet Confessions Confession No. 63: The Night I Couldn’t Stop
I should have been asleep.The clock on my nightstand glowed 12:47 a.m., and the rain outside tapped steadily against my bedroom window. But my body wasn’t tired it was restless.I blame him.The neighbor. The one with the deep voice and the habit of leaving his blinds open just enough for me to see pieces of his life I shouldn’t.It started innocently. I’d be in the kitchen at night, sipping tea, and I’d glance over to find him shirtless, walking past his window. Then came the nights when he’d sit in his chair, reading, his hand occasionally resting low too low on his waistband. And I’d wonder what it would feel like if that hand was on me.Tonight, though, was differentI’d caught a glimpse of him earlier, fresh out of the shower, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, water sliding down his chest. He saw me. I know he did. But instead of pulling the blinds, he smirked and left them open.I couldn’t stop thinking about it.Now I was in bed, covers pushed down, my skin hot, my
Wet Confessions Confession No. 62: Trading heat
The TemptationI wasn’t supposed to take the stage that night.The schedule said off, but Sasha called in sick, and I could use the extra cash. So I pulled on the red dress the one slit high enough to cause trouble and walked into The Velvet Hour like it owed me something.That’s when I saw them.They were tucked into the corner booth where shadows gather, but even from across the room, I could feel them. She was stunning in a black wrap dress, diamonds at her throat, lips painted the kind of red that ruins men. He sat beside her, not across a quiet claim one hand resting on her thigh, thumb tracing idle circles over silk.They weren’t like the others. Couples usually came here for spectacle. To shock themselves into feeling something again. But these two they were already dangerous. The air between them was heavy, charged, and the way they both looked at me made my skin hum.When my set started, I tried to avoid their eyes. Tried to focus on the faceless crowd. But I kept finding
Wet Confessions Confession No. 61: Perfect Surrender
The club’s neon lights flickered like a heartbeat as I slipped off my stilettos, the sharp click echoing in the empty dressing room. Tonight had been electric the crowd louder, the tips heavier, but still something inside me craved more. More than the music, more than the routine.Two men caught my eye near the bar earlier. One with a dark, commanding gaze that made my skin prickle, the other flashing a mischievous smile that promised trouble. When they approached after my last dance, their eyes burned with a hunger that matched mine.“Want to unwind somewhere quieter?” the darker one asked, voice low, dangerous.I hesitated, the familiar part of me warning to walk away. But the thrill, the pull was stronger.Soon, we were in a private loft, the city’s hum fading behind the locked door. Silk curtains whispered as they brushed past, and my pulse thundered in time with the slow drag of their hands on my bare skin.One traced a line down my spine, firm and possessive, while the other’s
Wet Confessions Confession No. 60: Subscribers Only (Part Two)
Shadow in the RoomThe message is still there on my screen.I’m closer than you think.The chat is a blur of thirsty demands, heart emojis, and dollar signs, but my eyes don’t move from that sentence. I can hear my own breathing over the faint hum of the ring light, the air in my room suddenly heavy, warm, waiting.ThenTap.It’s soft, barely there, but I hear it. The kind of sound glass makes when a fingertip traces it. My gaze snaps toward the window. The curtains are drawn, but the streetlight outside spills a pale sliver through the gap.Another message pings.Pull the lace down. All the way.My pulse spikes. I tell myself I could end the stream, pretend this never happened. But my hand moves before my brain does, hooking into the delicate strap at my shoulder and sliding it down.The chat goes wild. Tips ping in rapid fire bursts. But then, in the middle of it another private message.Good girl. Don’t look behind you.Every nerve in my body tightens. I don’t move, don’t turn, but
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