French Short Stories Novels & Stories

“And... what are you wearing?” He slowly stood up, revealing a visible erection in black boxer briefs. Jesus Christ! I swallowed because I did not know Remy was that hung. The print was thicker than I imagined. “Just boxers. You like them?” I nodded, unable to say anything else. He watched as my eyes lingered there. His hands followed, stroking his length outside of his boxers. I let out the smallest of gasps, feeling my pussy tense at the sight of him. “When’s the last time you touched yourself, Rene?” Remy asked me, nearly word-for-word to Nathan’s inquiry weeks before.

My secret words and my filthy thoughts. Heat flooded my face. I suddenly wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. “I…I attached the wrong file,” I whispered, voice cracking. “It was never meant for anyone.” He stepped closer. Close enough that I felt the faint heat of his body. “Yet you described everything with such precision. The way my voice would sound against your ears, how my fingers would feel sliding underneath your skirt while you tried so desperately to maintain your composure.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, then lower, tracing the rapid rise of my chest. “Does writing those scenes excite you, Freya Laurent? Did your body respond while you imagined me fucking you in this very o