is asking for trouble, but I’m lonely and not used to spending time with only myself. I need a distraction from my thoughts.
With a full stomach, thanks to Kadin’s thoughtfulness, I carry the plate to the sink, wash it, and return it to the cabinet with other plates of its kind. He still hasn’t shown. The house is completely silent, and I can’t tell if he’s even inside the house.
I make my way to the den, stopping by the open door of the mudroom. His boots are in there, but the pile of clothes he discarded earlier is nowhere to be seen. I shrug my shoulders and continue my journey to the den.
I’ve spent enough time in the room upstairs and can’t stand the thought of going back up there with nothing to do so I park it on the sofa and stare into the fire. The flames are small, and it’s clear that he's not been down here recently to feed it.
I lay on my side watching the flames and listening to the crackling and popping, doing my best not to think of all the coulda’s, shoulda’s, and woulda’s that are racing through my head. It’s almost an impossible task since the sight of Trent plowing into my best friend from behind is all I see when I close my eyes.
Her breasts last night in the light of the fire, while she was lying down, were incredible. Standing, in full unobstructed view with the lights on? Without a doubt, no contest, the best set of tits I’ve ever seen: in person, on TV, or in a movie.
I could tell I shocked her when she came out of the bathroom. Hell, it shocked me that she was topless. I stood there like a statue and just gawked at her perky, pink buds, taking notice that they tightened further under my scrutiny.
My cock seems to have a mind of its own around her and my attempts to control it have gone unnoticed. I’m sure she noticed my lack of discipline in regards to him. I was in full tent mode by the time I closed her bedroom door behind me, spontaneous erections being a recent rediscovery of my body.
Did I know she was in the shower? Yes. Did I know she was out of the shower? Yes. Did I slowly go about my business in hopes that I’d see her if even for a brief moment before leaving her room again? Yes. Did I ever, even for a minute, consider the possibility that she’d step out of there without clothes on? Never in a million years. One of her suitcases was gone, and I figured she’d grab clothes out of it already, a happy misconception on my part.
Then I think about the words she muttered to herself as I left the room earlier. You’re the one with a fucking wife.
This is coming right on the heels of her shutting down any notion that I might have had about a repeat performance. I can accept that she feels like last night was a mistake. Hell, I felt exactly the same way when I climbed out from under her just a few short hours ago. Hearing it from a mouth surrounded by completely fuckable lips? Depressing.
What else besides fucking like rabbits is there to do for the next couple of days? You could take a long hike outside without any desire to make it back alive.
When she told me it couldn’t happen again, all I could do was stand there and look past her. It was the only way to keep myself from arguing with her and citing all the reasons why I think sex would be the perfect way to pass the time until I can get her out of here and follow through with my other plans for this trip.
I have to tuck my erection behind the waistband of my sweats as I make my way down the stairs. Maybe her staying away from me and locked in her room is for the best. My constant state of arousal has me concerned about blood flow and circulation problems.
Since I’m not much of a cook, I decide on sandwiches for what would be considered brunch since it’s later than breakfast and too early for lunch. My mother raised me with manners, so I make her a sandwich also, placing it at a setting across the dining room table from mine.
I tinker around in the kitchen washing the coffee pot from
With a full stomach, thanks to Kadin’s thoughtfulness, I carry the plate to the sink, wash it, and return it to the cabinet with other plates of its kind. He still hasn’t shown. The house is completely silent, and I can’t tell if he’s even inside the house.
I make my way to the den, stopping by the open door of the mudroom. His boots are in there, but the pile of clothes he discarded earlier is nowhere to be seen. I shrug my shoulders and continue my journey to the den.
I’ve spent enough time in the room upstairs and can’t stand the thought of going back up there with nothing to do so I park it on the sofa and stare into the fire. The flames are small, and it’s clear that he's not been down here recently to feed it.
I lay on my side watching the flames and listening to the crackling and popping, doing my best not to think of all the coulda’s, shoulda’s, and woulda’s that are racing through my head. It’s almost an impossible task since the sight of Trent plowing into my best friend from behind is all I see when I close my eyes.
Her breasts last night in the light of the fire, while she was lying down, were incredible. Standing, in full unobstructed view with the lights on? Without a doubt, no contest, the best set of tits I’ve ever seen: in person, on TV, or in a movie.
I could tell I shocked her when she came out of the bathroom. Hell, it shocked me that she was topless. I stood there like a statue and just gawked at her perky, pink buds, taking notice that they tightened further under my scrutiny.
My cock seems to have a mind of its own around her and my attempts to control it have gone unnoticed. I’m sure she noticed my lack of discipline in regards to him. I was in full tent mode by the time I closed her bedroom door behind me, spontaneous erections being a recent rediscovery of my body.
Did I know she was in the shower? Yes. Did I know she was out of the shower? Yes. Did I slowly go about my business in hopes that I’d see her if even for a brief moment before leaving her room again? Yes. Did I ever, even for a minute, consider the possibility that she’d step out of there without clothes on? Never in a million years. One of her suitcases was gone, and I figured she’d grab clothes out of it already, a happy misconception on my part.
Then I think about the words she muttered to herself as I left the room earlier. You’re the one with a fucking wife.
This is coming right on the heels of her shutting down any notion that I might have had about a repeat performance. I can accept that she feels like last night was a mistake. Hell, I felt exactly the same way when I climbed out from under her just a few short hours ago. Hearing it from a mouth surrounded by completely fuckable lips? Depressing.
What else besides fucking like rabbits is there to do for the next couple of days? You could take a long hike outside without any desire to make it back alive.
When she told me it couldn’t happen again, all I could do was stand there and look past her. It was the only way to keep myself from arguing with her and citing all the reasons why I think sex would be the perfect way to pass the time until I can get her out of here and follow through with my other plans for this trip.
I have to tuck my erection behind the waistband of my sweats as I make my way down the stairs. Maybe her staying away from me and locked in her room is for the best. My constant state of arousal has me concerned about blood flow and circulation problems.
Since I’m not much of a cook, I decide on sandwiches for what would be considered brunch since it’s later than breakfast and too early for lunch. My mother raised me with manners, so I make her a sandwich also, placing it at a setting across the dining room table from mine.
I tinker around in the kitchen washing the coffee pot from
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