DIRTY DADDIES
They were a panting, sweaty, cum-drenched heap.
Jane crawled to me first, pressing her face against my thigh.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Don’t make me go back to him. I want to be yours. Only yours.”
Daniel looked up at me, his eyes full of a new, terrified awe.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “You’re… a goddess.”
I looked down at them both. The betrayed wife? The victim? That woman was dead. In her place was something hungrier, something darker and infinitely more powerful.