The Seven-Year Itch: Three Days To Disappear
On our seventh wedding anniversary, my wife, Blair, the daughter of the city's richest man, straddled my lap, her kiss deep and intoxicating as she toyed with my lower lip.
The same night, we just announced our pregnancy to the world.
Just then, Blair's best friend, Chloe, asked in French, her tone suggestive:
"Blair, you're absolutely glowing. But tell me honestly, how does it feel to get railed by another man while carrying a baby?"
Blair let out a soft laugh, a familiar sound that sent a chill down my spine.
She replied, also in French:
"It feels absolutely incredible, Chloe. He's like a wild wolf. Just yesterday, he had his head buried between my thighs, using his mouth to bring me
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