“No.” I'm writhing, but he's pinned me. Despite my wishes, he won't go quicker. “f**k me, Milo. Please.”
He whispers to me. “Seven f*****g years, Grace. Seven years of vacations and him calling you in. Seven years of swimwear to untie. Seven years of you gazing at me too long while you're drunk, tempting me to haul you away and taste that pussy.” His fingers stroke my c**t as he grinds into me. “ I'd be within you. Your spouse is in another room, oblivious.
His words heat up and filthily. Falsehoods don't matter. They're merely fantasies; he's holding his c**k as proof.
I enjoy my fantasies twisted.
I twist to kiss him quickly. It's easy to create nasty and forbidden fantasies. “Yes!” I turn to see Darren, my kind spouse. “I hope it's incorrect. Dirty. .”
Milo follows me, but Darre
