The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage - Chapter 18: Chapter 18
You are reading The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage, Chapter 18: Chapter 18. Read more chapters of The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage.
I rolled out of bed and caught my reflection in the mirror while washing up. My cheeks were flushed—was that really me? That elegant, willowy figure with the perfect curves?
Long hair tumbled over my shoulders, framing smooth, porcelain skin. My full breasts curved just right, tempting and proud. I brushed my fingers over them—soft yet firm—and smirked, remembering the way his eyes had devoured me the first time.
At breakfast, he dragged me onto his lap. That wicked hardness pressed against me, making me squirm. Worse, he wouldn't let me go, his arm cinched around my waist, fingers occasionally teasing my chest.
I took a sip of milk, then turned suddenly, pressing my lips to his.
Sweet cream slipped between our mouths, swirling as his tongue chased mine. The rich scent filled my nose as his grip tightened—I'd only trapped myself. His lips were warm, a few drops of milk clinging to them. We ended up sharing the glass, and I playfully licked the traces from his mouth, feeling his arousal pulse against me.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I wanted more. Shifting slightly, I gave him the hint, and he obliged, sliding into me inch by inch until he was buried deep.
Pleasure crackled through me. His hands gripped my waist, moving urgently, my breasts bouncing with each thrust.
"Don't move," I murmured. "Let's just eat like this." I savored the delicious fullness.
God knows how we finished that meal. Every time he reached for food, he'd thrust a few times, wrenching moans from me—I nearly choked.
Afterward, his pleading look made me smirk. Greedy man. Time was running out.
At the vanity, I slicked on lipstick while he teased my breasts, sending shivers down my spine.
Once my makeup was set, I wriggled into that sinful purple G-string—just a whisper of fabric and a teasing string, lethally sexy.
Next, sheer white lace-trimmed pantyhose, so delicate they might as well have been lingerie. The cool silk glided over my thighs like his hands. I couldn't resist stroking them myself.
The matching purple lace bra needed no padding—my curves filled it perfectly. The only problem? After his office antics, the thin fabric would betray my peaked nipples, forcing me to cover myself and flee, cheeks burning.
I slipped into his favorite white chiffon dress and strapped on towering black lace-up heels, the crisscrossed ribbons hugging my calves.
We rushed downstairs, stealing feverish kisses along the way. In the car, his mischievous fingers slid under my skirt, tracing slow circles over my stocking-clad thighs.
Long hair tumbled over my shoulders, framing smooth, porcelain skin. My full breasts curved just right, tempting and proud. I brushed my fingers over them—soft yet firm—and smirked, remembering the way his eyes had devoured me the first time.
At breakfast, he dragged me onto his lap. That wicked hardness pressed against me, making me squirm. Worse, he wouldn't let me go, his arm cinched around my waist, fingers occasionally teasing my chest.
I took a sip of milk, then turned suddenly, pressing my lips to his.
Sweet cream slipped between our mouths, swirling as his tongue chased mine. The rich scent filled my nose as his grip tightened—I'd only trapped myself. His lips were warm, a few drops of milk clinging to them. We ended up sharing the glass, and I playfully licked the traces from his mouth, feeling his arousal pulse against me.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I wanted more. Shifting slightly, I gave him the hint, and he obliged, sliding into me inch by inch until he was buried deep.
Pleasure crackled through me. His hands gripped my waist, moving urgently, my breasts bouncing with each thrust.
"Don't move," I murmured. "Let's just eat like this." I savored the delicious fullness.
God knows how we finished that meal. Every time he reached for food, he'd thrust a few times, wrenching moans from me—I nearly choked.
Afterward, his pleading look made me smirk. Greedy man. Time was running out.
At the vanity, I slicked on lipstick while he teased my breasts, sending shivers down my spine.
Once my makeup was set, I wriggled into that sinful purple G-string—just a whisper of fabric and a teasing string, lethally sexy.
Next, sheer white lace-trimmed pantyhose, so delicate they might as well have been lingerie. The cool silk glided over my thighs like his hands. I couldn't resist stroking them myself.
The matching purple lace bra needed no padding—my curves filled it perfectly. The only problem? After his office antics, the thin fabric would betray my peaked nipples, forcing me to cover myself and flee, cheeks burning.
I slipped into his favorite white chiffon dress and strapped on towering black lace-up heels, the crisscrossed ribbons hugging my calves.
We rushed downstairs, stealing feverish kisses along the way. In the car, his mischievous fingers slid under my skirt, tracing slow circles over my stocking-clad thighs.
End of The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage Chapter 18. Continue reading Chapter 19 or return to The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage book page.