บททั้งหมดของ The Masked Stripper is my Wife. : บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

LorettaMy body slid slowly down the pole, the music guiding my rhythm. I spun around once, my hands grazing the cold steel before I bent forward, letting the movement roll into a twerk. I could feel his eyes on me, steady, and intense. I turned back toward him, and as soon as our eyes met, he raised his hand in a small gesture, calling me over.I walked toward him without breaking eye contact. Every step I took, I reminded myself that I had to look like I was in control, even though deep down I knew it wasn’t true. He carried the control in this room, and no matter how much I pretended otherwise, I was just trying not to get swallowed up by it.When I reached him, I climbed onto his lap, straddling him without hesitation. The music in the background was loud as I moved my hips against him in slow circles. I studied him up close, scanning his jawline, the set of his mouth, and his eyes. If he really was Mr. Prescott, I thought maybe I would catch something familiar, something that wou

LorettaI was back at my desk, typing up the notes from the meeting earlier today. I was halfway through when I noticed Logan at the entrance of my desk. He hadn’t knocked or cleared his throat. He just stood there, silent, until I looked up.“Mr. Prescott asked that you bring the notes to him yourself,” he said plainly.My hands paused on the keyboard. “Me?”“Yes, he said you should bring them once you’re done.” His tone was casual, but his eyes rested on me a little too long, as if waiting to see if I would panic.“I will finish them right away,” I said quickly.“Do that now,” he added, “and after that, send the files I asked you to work on this morning to me.” He turned to leave but then paused. “You know, this will be your first time in his office. No funny acts, or you will be fired in the blink of an eye. Behave yourself.”He didn’t wait for me to answer. He just walked away.I exhaled slowly, turning back to my computer. My heart gave a little jump, but I forced my fingers to m

Asher PrescottI watched the water run down my body. My dick was already hard from thinking about her. She doesn’t know she’s a walking wet dream or what she does to me. I held my dick, running my hand around it. I closed my eyes and imagined her on her knees, begging me to let her have me in her mouth while squeezing those boobs that gave me sleepless nights.I never imagined I would ever masturbate to the thought of a woman. This woman is making me do things I've never done.When I get horny, I call an available woman and release my tension. But right now, I don’t want any other woman except her. Even when I am with other women, I still imagine I am with her.I pumped my dick faster, imagining it was her mouth. I set one hand against the wall for balance. I imagined myself fucking her, drilling her relentlessly, her screaming my name and begging me to go faster. I keep pumping until my seed spread across the wall in the bathroom.I finished up and went to my room to get ready for

Asher PrescottI closed the door and went straight to my seat. Richard came in shortly after and sat in the chair across from me.“Why are you flirting with my secretary, aren’t you married?” I asked, glaring at him. Maybe I should call Anna and let her know he is here trying to repeat history with another woman. “You didn’t tell me your secretary is that stunning. She is drop-dead gorgeous bro!!”Aside from being gorgeous, there’s something familiar about her, and I can’t place it. She looks like someone I have seen before. I might have lost count of the women I have slept with, or might not remember all their names, but I never forget the encounters or faces. I know she is not one of them, yet it feels like we have crossed paths. What unsettles me is how quickly I was drawn to her from the very first moment.“There’s nothing special about her. Don’t sugarcoat it because she was nice to you,” I said, flipping open a file.“Wait, you were jealous?” Richard raised a brow. “The way you

LorettaThe restaurant was too elegant for me to feel at ease. Everything sparkled, crystal glasses catching the soft light, silver cutlery aligned with precision, and fresh white linens stretched so smoothly. A saxophone played somewhere in the background. I sat beside Mr Prescott at the long table, trying to still the restless movement of my hands. He seemed perfectly at home here, confident in his dark suit, speaking to the waiter in a tone that commanded respect without effort. I told myself this was just a business dinner, nothing more. My stomach knotted, not only from the formality of the evening, but also because of the way Mr Harris, his client kept staring at me.“Mr Prescott,” Mr Harris said smoothly, leaning back in his chair with arrogance. His eyes, shameless and heavy, lingered on me far longer than they should have. “You didn’t tell me your assistant was this charming. No wonder you keep her close, she must be the real star of your company.”I forced a polite smile.