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He’s going to fuck me!
Christine watched him come around the end of the sofa from the wet bar with the pair of drinks and knew in her mind that it was going to happen.
She felt her heart pound. She felt a thrill begin tingling through her belly, making her pussy-tunnel squirm warmly in a way it hadn’t for nearly three years.
“Here, Mrs. Eglund–try this and see if it doesn’t call forth faraway places and sugar-sand beaches under whispering palms for you and me.”
He smiled handsomely and sat beside her. She looked into the glass and squeezed her thighs together to try to stop the quick, shameless bloating of her trembling cunt-lips.
“All that from one daiquiri?” she laughed softly, trying to sound flippant and sure of herself.
His hip slid against hers and made her catch her breath. He watched closely as she sipped the drink. She felt like jelly under his gaze. After all this time, it was a frightening feeling, and it made her wish he were Carl.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.