The next morning, I couldn't shake the heat from last night. My pussy still ached from fingering myself while watching Father-in-law pound My mother-in-law senseless. I avoided everyone at breakfast, my cheeks burning every time he glanced my way.
My husband, his son, barely noticed—too busy scrolling his phone, not even asking why I looked flushed. He never touched me like that, never made me beg or scream. It stung, deep in my core.
I have started something I am not even sure anyone would read. Now here we are. Me—still writing. You—still here. I’m not backed by fame or algorithms, just pure passion… and you. So if you’re reading this, thank you. Your support doesn’t just help—it builds this journey. And every share, every comment, every cheer? It’s another “Keep going.” And I will. For you to read. Comment your darkest desires to read in the story.
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