The knock on my door was too soft to be his.So picture laying in my wet pool of disappointment, sheets twisted around my legs, replaying the sound of his voice in my head. I recall the low, edgy masculine tone of his voice as he tried to catch his breath while he stroked his dick and orgasmed. I'd touched myself twice already, my fingers sore and slick, but the ache hadn't faded."Come in," I called, faking a weak rasp into my voice.The door swung open and my mother's face appeared, creased with worry, clutching a mug of tea like a lifeline."Sweetheart, how are you feeling?" She crossed to my bedside and pressed her palm to my forehead. "Just tired, Mom. I guess I’m having a hangover from the flight, you know." I keep my eyes closed, playing up the exhaustion card. It wasn't hard—I'd barely slept, too busy burning with fantasies I'd never speak aloud."Did you take your medicine?""Yes," I lied smoothly. "Took it an hour ago."She nodded, satisfied. She perched on the edge of my m
Last Updated : 2026-06-10 Read more