All Chapters of Sinful Obsessions: Short Filthy Stories : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Victoria:“Oh fuck, why am i so wet again?” I murmur to myself.I am thirty-four years old, and I still will not let my husband, Jason eat my pussy.Jason knows it. He has known it since the early years of our marriage. Yet every time we finish coming inside each other, when he is still breathing hard and the sheets are damp under us, he reaches for my thighs like the refusal is only temporary. His hand slides up the inside of my leg, fingers already seeking the heat of me, and I catch his wrist before he can part my knees.“No,” I tell him.He looks at me the same way he always does. “Victoria, just once. Let me eat you, my love.”“I said no.” I'll pull the sheet over myself and turn away.My friends think I am strange. They say it openly whenever the subject comes up. On weekend mornings when the kids are with their grandparents, me and my friends will sit around someone’s kitchen table with coffee, the conversation drifts there without failure.“You still won’t let him?” Rachel

Victoria: He drops to his knees between my open thighs without another word. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked me, and I nodded. I know he didn't expect me to want this because he's fully aware of how much I hate it. He buried his nose in between my thighs, and kissed my lips.God, I suck in my breath. "You smell so nice," he say, voice filled with love and desire. "Eat me already, please." I want to see how it feels like, being kissed, fucked with tongue and eaten by my husband. With a smile, he kissed my mouth, his left hand cupped my right breast, and his other hand at the back of my neck, our tongues colliding in our mouth. Fuck! The kiss deepened and I tried to close my legs to match his pace but he parted it, still kissing me like a starved lion. My pussy is already wet, he doesn't take time to make me wet for him. His hand slapped my breast, then continued squeezing, I moved my hand to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. After I was done unbuttoning his shirt

Victoria: “Faster, Marcus!” I groan in pleasure, I want to feel his tongue fucking me. “This cunt is so fucking wet for me. Dripping down my chin.” He flattens his tongue and drags it slowly over my clit, then flicks the tip rapidly before sucking hard again, and my thighs start to tremble. Holy fuck! He does it better than Jason. His tongue thrusting in out, using it to fuck me easily as if he's using his dick. He's not even letting me come, his tongue is distracting my release. “You’re close already? Filthy girl. Come on my tongue. Soak my face like the married slut you are.” he said. I want to slap him for calling me a slut, but my hands are playing in his hair, pushing him inside more. “Ouuu…fuck…ahhhnng…” I shattered, the orgasm hit hard and he took it all with his greedy mouth. Kissing my pussy lips, smooching, licking me, diving his tongue inside me, as if he was kissing my mouth not my down lips. He keeps licking me through it, greedily, tongue still thrusting, lips

Victoria: He stood up, took my hand in his own and pulled me up, with our eyes on each other. The chair scrapes softly against the floor, leaving the laptop and the papers on the table like they never mattered. We both walk to the living-room couch, his hand on my ass as he turns and kisses me again, harder this time. His hands move to my waist, then slide under the hem of my blouse, warm palms against bare skin. I let him undress me. Blouse first. Then the bra. He looks at my bare breasts the way a man looks at something he’s wanted for a long time and never expected to touch. When he lowers his head and takes one nipple into his mouth, pulling it with his teeth. “Oh damn… that feels too good.” I moaned before I could stop it. He started sucking, licking, switching from one breast to the other—while pulling my skirt down over my hips. I’m not wearing anything underneath because of Mr Marcus but fortunately I'm tempted by him. “Christ, Victoria, you aren't wearing anyt

Victoria: He pushes back into me slowly, watching every flicker of expression as he fills me again. This time the pace is different—deeper, more controlled. He leans down and kissed me while he fucks me, one hand braced beside my head, the other cupping my breast, thumb stroking the nipple in time with his thrusts. I moan into his mouth every time he bottoms out. The stretch is still intense. The wet sound of our bodies meeting is softer now, almost intimate. My legs wrap around his waist. Heels dig into his lower back. I’m holding him closer, pulling him deeper, and the only thought in my head is how good he feels. “You feel perfect,” he murmurs against my lips. “Tight. Wet. Like you’ve been needing this for longer than you’ll admit.” “I didn’t come here for this,” I whisper, even as my hips lift to meet every stroke. “I know.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, then trails his lips down to my throat. “But you’re taking it so well.” He shifts the angle slightly, hittin