Spanking Your Husband Mga Nobela at Kwento

*spank* "lied" *spank* "to" *spank* "me" *spank* "Please stop! Have mercy" I wailed in agony. My ass was already very sore. "You lied to your husband. That too for a random person." He growled while grabbing a handful of my hair and turned me to him. He was there! "I fucking HATE liars Rosalia. You should never, I mean, never lie to me no matter what." He hollered at me looking into my eyes. "It's your fault that you got spanked... Yeah?"

I spanked her four times. "Where?” "Plant under my window.” "Good girl. Now count to ten,” I said as I spanked her continuously. " Seven” she moaned, grinding her pussy against my thigh. "Ten,’’ she said finally. I rub my hands over her ass and then slide down to her soaking pussy. So my wife gets off on pain, huh. I rub her clit gently then sink a finger inside her.

“Yes. Fuck your wife’s pussy. Destroy this pussy!” And he did exactly that. I loved telling him how much his pussy loved him by giving Kegel hugs. Embracing his large erection in a warm embrace and receiving brutal spanks in return. When he didn’t spank me, I spanked myself to remind him to do so. Even I found out I spanked myself harder than he spanked me. We both loved to fuck my insides. With my hands, I massage my love canal and with his boner – he does justice to his pussy.

“Don't talk to him like that.” I didn't plan to answer this bitch but I guess I have no choice. *Then how should I speak to the woman who slept with her sister's husband?” In a second, her expression darkened. She brought out her hands, about to slap me when I held it and slapped her. Eartha flinched and almost collapsed on the floor but Freddie held her up. “How dare you?” Freddie uttered, anger surging through him. “You can't let this bitch get away. Slap her back.”

My voice broke off. I can’t believe that I am spelling this as if I were talking to a child. “Having a fucking threesome isn’t going to fix a marriage…” “We have to try something,” he said, cutting me off. Was he hearing himself? Did he see how he sounded like a freaking hormonal teenager? “Therapy! Have you thought about that?” “Why talk when we could be using our mouths to do something far more interesting?” he grinned, walking closer to where I stood. I didn’t think it through. My hand raised, fast, angry as I slapped him across the face. Hard. The sound that echoed between us was the sound of the slap, the ringing that came from actually realising that he had been hurt.

I chuckled coldly and replied, "Even if I have lost my mind, I was driven to it by you two adulterers. Anna, are you so eager to have me thrown out because you're feeling guilty?" Hearing this, she just stared at me for a long moment before suddenly letting out a light laugh. Then, she took the microphone from the emcee and spoke loudly to the audience below the stage. "I'm sorry, everyone, this is my husband. He has developed a severe case of delusional disorder due to the thesis plagiarism incident. Mr. Tanner is aware of his condition, which is why he was suspended and sent home to rest." Mr. Tanner immediately chimed in, "That's right. I've seen Mr. Huffman's medical records. It's clear

“What are you doing with your father’s inheritance?” “Didn’t you leave already?” I fought to remain calm as I put the envelope back into the safe. He walked over to me and sat on the edge of the bed, holding my face with both hands and eyes full of concern. “Something feels off with you today. Are you unwell?” His brown eyes were utterly devoted. If I had not seen his marriage records myself, I would have believed that he was still the man who held the umbrella for me on those rainy nights. “I don’t want to take in those two kids. Let’s raise our own baby instead, can we?”

“Thank god. He was so sweet at first. Then he walked into the dressing room, I could have sworn the man was vibrating with rage, but from the look of you I can see it was lust.” Blushing, I shake my head. “No, you had it right the first time. It was rage.” Her eyes run over me. “Ah, he’s one of those.” She sighs. “My husband is the same. Kind of a daddy dom. Spanking, punishment, using you, leaving you gasping for air when you’re bad. But when you’re a good girl he takes care of everything you could possibly need or want—even things you don’t think of yourself. Then he also makes you come so hard you see stars.”

Her husband, Stefano, followed suit, a charming smile etched across his face as they made their way to the entrance of the office. As he firmly grasped her waist, she winced imperceptibly, the grip more possessive than affectionate. Stefano’s eyes sparkled with a veneer of playfulness, but she could sense the underlying demand in his words. "Start acting like my whore wife," he whispered into her ear, the command hanging in the air like a heavy mist. These words were no strangers to her; they had become a haunting refrain in the symphony of their marriage. Each time he uttered them, it sent a shiver down her spine, a stark reminder of the facade she was forced to maintain.

Bill spun her away from him, so she'd stop trying to figure him out and bent her over the desk. He was in charge. Manipulating her body to do his bidding. So why did he feel naked in front of a crowd with his dick in his hand? “My fucking wife. Mine," he growled through gritted teeth, holding onto his sanity by a thread. He kicked her feet wide. His palm cracked across her ass, once, twice, three times, turning the skin hot and pink. Images of Dean touching her taunted him. The spanking continued. "Stop being such a fucking asshole," she grunted, but his stinging touch felt like her oxygen.