Diary Of A Married Whóre (2)
DERRICK'S POV
I closed the door behind me without a sound, sliding the key card into my pocket. My c**k was still wet, my chest still heaving from the way she had come undone beneath me.
Her moans lingered in my ears, that desperate sound a married woman makes when she knows she’s doing something she’ll never admit. That was the part that hooked me. Not her body, though it was good, but the risk. The way her wedding ring gleamed when she stroked my c**k, when she grabbed at the sheets like a sinner clinging to church pews.
I pulled out my pack of cigarettes, lit one, and leaned against the hallway wall. The smoke filled my lungs, sharp and grounding.
“Derrick, what the hell are you doing?” I muttered to myself.
This wasn’t the first time. I told myself ea
