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Way 20: My Husband's Best Friend Chapter 1: The Confession I never planned to cheat on my husband. But Jason had always been there — my husband Mike’s best friend since college. Tall, charming, heavily tattooed, with that effortless bad-boy smile that made my stomach flutter every time he came over. Mike was safe, sweet, and stable. Jason was fire. Tonight, Mike was passed out drunk upstairs after our little house party. Most guests had left, but Jason stayed behind to help clean up. Or at least that’s what we told ourselves. We were in the kitchen alone. I was washing dishes in a thin white tank top (no bra) and tiny cotton shorts when I felt him behind me. “You’ve been teasing me for years, Sarah,” Jason said quietly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “Those little touches when Mike isn’t looking. The way you bite your lip when I compliment you. The way you wear these tiny shorts when I come over.” I froze, hands still in the soapy water. I turned around slowly.

: Chapter 3: Risk and Greed We barely had time to react. Jason quickly tucked his still-hard cock back into his jeans while I frantically pulled up my tiny shorts. His thick cum was already leaking down my inner thighs as I tried to wipe the counter quickly with a paper towel. My legs were shaky, my pussy throbbing, and my face was flushed with guilt and leftover pleasure. “Upstairs,” Jason whispered urgently. “Act normal.” We heard Mike’s footsteps moving around in the bedroom above us. My heart hammered against my ribs as Jason casually walked back into the living room like nothing had happened. I followed a few seconds later, trying to smooth down my hair and look composed. Mike came down the stairs a minute later, rubbing his eyes, still half-drunk. “Fuck… I passed out hard,” he mumbled, looking between us. “You guys cleaned up everything?” Jason gave him an easy smile — the same friendly smile he’d given my husband a thousand times. “Yeah man, Sarah helped me finish up.

Chapter 2: The First Fall I knelt on the cold hardwood floor of Father Elias’s private office, heart hammering against my ribs. The man who had baptized me, who had given me communion, who was supposed to guide my soul to heaven, was now standing above me with dark, hungry eyes. My hands trembled as I unbuckled his belt and pulled down his black trousers. His cock sprang free — thick, long, and already rock hard. The sight of a priest’s erection made my pussy throb with shameful need. Father Elias looked down at me, his voice low and strained. “This is blasphemy, Isabella. Do you understand that? I am breaking my vows… and you are about to defile your marriage.” “I know, Father,” I whispered, staring at his heavy cock. “But I don’t care. I need you.” I leaned forward and took him into my mouth. The groan that escaped him was deep and guttural — the sound of a man who had held back for far too long. I sucked him eagerly, swirling my tongue around the thick head, tasting the sal

Chapter 2: First Private LessonThe Pierce mansion was even more intimidating than I imagined. Towering gates, perfectly manicured lawns, and a sprawling estate that screamed old money. At exactly 7 PM, I stood at the front door in a simple white sundress that hugged my curves and ended mid-thigh — easy to remove, just like he had ordered.My heart was racing so hard I felt dizzy.A housekeeper let me in and led me through the luxurious halls to a large private study on the second floor. The moment I stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind me.Damien Pierce was waiting.He stood by a massive oak desk, wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms. His stormy gray eyes darkened the second they landed on me.“Lock the door, Evelyn,” he commanded, voice low and authoritative.I obeyed, turning the lock with trembling fingers.“Come here.”I walked toward him slowly, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. He didn’t move until I

My Bully’s Hot DadChapter 4: The RiskThe following week passed in a strange, heated blur. At school, Jaxon continued to keep his distance, but the tension between us had grown sharper. He watched me constantly, like he suspected something was off but couldn’t quite figure out what. Every time our eyes met in the hallway, my stomach twisted with guilt and fear.Meanwhile, my secret meetings with Damien became the center of my world.On Thursday evening, I returned to the mansion once again. This time, Damien didn’t wait in the study. He met me at the door himself, dressed in a simple black shirt and pants, looking every bit the powerful man he was.“Come with me,” he said quietly, taking my hand.He led me upstairs, but instead of the study, he took me to a beautiful private lounge on the third floor — a room with soft lighting, large windows overlooking the garden, and a wide, comfortable couch.“I wanted somewhere more private tonight,” he explained, closing the door behind us. “Ja