My Wife's Slutty Bestie (6)
Three Days Later
It had been three days since the bathroom, and I still could not breathe right. Every quiet moment replayed Brielle’s moans in my head. I remembered the sharp sting of her nails digging into my shoulders, each mark a reminder of how desperately she had clung to me. I could still hear the way she whispered my name, not softly or timidly, but like she had been starving for it.
Afterward, I tried to lose myself in Kelsie, to bury my thoughts in the ordinary rhythm of my marriage, to pretend that I could find comfort in routine. But every time I closed my eyes, no matter how tightly I forced them shut, it was not Kelsie’s face that came to me. It was Brielle’s. Her face was flushed, her lips parted in reckless need, her eyes burning with somethi
