KIRILL’S POINT OF VIEW.
The second I laid eyes on her, my breath hitched. Summer, my wife, looked like a weapon sent from hell to f**k me over. The dress I’d unwittingly picked hugged her body just right, dipping perfectly. The colour red popped off her skin just right, forcing the desire I’d painstakingly stifled earlier back up my throat. I wanted to peel it off her body and worship her just right.
“Turn around,” I whispered, placing my hands in my pockets to keep from touching her, because I knew that if I did….I would lose any semblance of control. I’d taken to spending a lot of time in the gym or the shower; either fisting my c**k angrily and stroking it until I roared her name as I came, or taking out my frustration on the treadmill, or the dumbbells.
She smiled softly, obeying
