Kidnapped by her husband's sexy driver, an unhappy mafia wife has started to fall for her captor. But when they return to her husband's house to steal the driver's share of the big take, the driver seems hell-bent on doing a hands-on demonstration of how much she prefers his touch to her husband's. How far is she willing to let it go? Warning - this story contains 4,306 words including hot m/f anal sex, frottage, exhibitionism, and a cuckolded husband forced to watch. For the mature reader only!
- Excerpt -
"Don't worry," said the driver after a moment. "We're not here to hurt you. We're not even here to rob you. I just want to take what's mine."
My husband sneered. "Looks like you've already taken what's mine," he said, eyeing me. "Did she give in easy? She's always been hungry for it, you know. I hope you don't think it's just you, kid. Don't flatter yourself."
I felt my face grow hot. The driver turned and looked at me, his face unreadable.
"Well, Rose," he said. "Listen to that. I think we need to show him how wrong he is."
I swallowed hard. What was he driving at?
"Put the gun down," the driver said. "He's not going anywhere now."
"Now," he said. "Take off your shirt."
My breath caught in my throat. I was starting to get a vague idea of what he was suggesting, and the idea both excited and terrified me. But I'd agreed to do anything he asked, so I pulled my shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor.
The driver - perhaps on purpose - had neglected to buy me any bras on his little shopping trip, so my breasts hung freely, my nipples beginning to harden and betray how thrilling this was for me. I could feel a bright red flush creeping up my chest and neck, and I stood proudly before my husband's frightened gaze.
"Pants," said the driver.
About Jessi Bond
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Published April 11, 2012
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.