Sinful Diaries: A Forbidden Collection

MELANIE’S DIARY: I never imagined I’d let my husband’s brother spread my legs apart and f**k the s**t out of me. Oh no, wait. Ugh. That was a lie. Of course I’d imagined it. I’d even dreamed about it. Fantasized about those hands on me, about what it would feel like to have him want me the way my husband no longer did. Sometimes, with my eyes closed and my fingers wandering beneath my panties, I’d imagine it was his hands on me instead of my own. People will call me a homewrecker when they read this. A w***e. A faithless wife. A Luna who couldn’t keep her legs closed. Fine. But before you judge me, ask yourself one question: How long would you remain faithful to a man who made you feel single in your own marriage? My husband hadn’t touched me in Eleven months, and twenty-three days. I know because I counted. Every night he turned me down, I marked another day on my calendar. Another little reminder that I was married to a man who no longer wanted me. What I didn’t count on was his younger brother becoming the man who made me feel like a woman again. And it all started on the night of his 35th birthday. A night I’d planned to make sure he’d never forget. I’d bought a sheer black lingerie set from a s*x toy store I found on sss. It was the kind that accentuated the curves of my breasts, with a cutout in the middle where my large pink n*****s would peek through. The back left little to the imagination— as it ran thin between my ass cheeks, exposing the full flesh of my ass and hips. It came with buckle straps I could tie around my mid-thigh, and as I stared into the mirror, I knew there was no way my husband would be able to resist. I’d also gotten a s*x toy box with a card of intimate dares that came with a bonus whip and strap-on dildo—just in case we decided to go overboard. When I heard the doorbell ring, I knew it was time to remind him of the woman he'd wooed to get her number three years ago. I hurried down the stairs, my breasts bouncing with each step as I made my way to the door. “This is it, Melanie," I whispered to myself, letting out a shaky exhale as I adjusted the front of the lingerie, ensuring my n*****s were impossible to miss. "One, two, three…" Then— I dragged the door slowly, the large ornate doors creaking as I revealed myself—one hand on the doorknob, my hip c****d against the doorframe in a pose that was all curves and confidence. “Happy 35th birthday, baby.” I smiled, making my voice as soft and seductive as I could. "Melanie?" He let out a short, disbelieving laugh as he looked me up and down, like he couldn't quite understand what this was about. "Welcome home, baby," I said, stepping aside so he could enter fully. His eyes were still scanning me, the smile from that disbelieving laugh never leaving his face. "Melanie," he laughed again, dropping his suitcase on the couch. "What in the world are you wearing?” I shut the door behind him the moment he was fully inside. “Nothing much," I shrugged, feigning obliviousness, though the knowing smile stayed on my face regardless. "Just a little present for the birthday boy." "For the birthday boy?" He laughed again, loosening his tie. “C’mon Damian.” I walked closer, my eyes fixed on him, and pressed my hand against the front of his pants where I guessed his d**k would be. "Don't act so naive now." "Ah. Fuck." He groaned as I pressed, then let out a nervous laugh, gently removing my hands from him. "Melanie, as you can see, birthday boy has had an awfully long day at work and—" "Baby please," I said, pulling my best puppy-dog pout—lower lip pushed out, eyes wide and pleading—as I gave my n****e a playful flick. "One night won't hurt, would it?” "Okay, you know what?" He cupped my cheeks, a reassuring look on his face. "I'd give you some tomorrow." "Tomorrow?!” My face fell, the disappointment clear in the way my shoulders dropped and my smile faded. “That's the same thing you said last week when I asked. And I'm always the one asking, Damian." "You can't exactly blame me, Melanie." He pulled away from my cheeks, removing his cufflinks. "I work all day and—" "You do it for me," I rolled my eyes, finishing the sentence before he could, since it was something he always said. "Exactly." He smiled, giving me a small kiss on the forehead as he started walking toward the room. "Don't worry, baby. Tomorrow, I promise." "Yeah…" I dragged the word out, rolling my eyes. "Sure. I guess." "And don't forget to switch off the lights and close the curtains," his voice echoed down the hallway. "'Don't forget to switch off the lights and close the curtains,'" I mimicked him as he walked off. "Pathetic." My life was pathetic. I opened my phone and ticked the twenty fourth day on the calendar. Another day that I had to touch myself to sleep. How long was this going to keep happening, for God's sake? Before eleven p.m., Damian was already fast asleep, snoring like he hadn't slept in years. There was no persuading him after all, was there? I'd already started turning off the lights around the house, and I was just about to close the curtains in our bedroom when I saw it. A dimly lit bathroom on the other side of the pack house, visible from our window. And walking into it was him. Gustavo. My husband’s brother. Naked. My p***y throbbed at the sight. Oh f**k.