Mya's First Ride: A First Time Hotwife Erotic Short (A Hotwife Rides Dirty Book 1) by M. L. Patterson

Author:M. L. Patterson [Patterson, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: hotwife, wife-sharing
Publisher: Khloe Creative Publishing
Published: 2022-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

Damian threw my body down on the bed. The tiny purse I had sandwiched between his body and mine while on the bike now spilled its contents onto the bed next to me.

Oh shit, my phone. Grant said he would text.

And he had. One text. “Relax, babe. Enjoy yourself. Be free. I won’t be far. I love you.”

Aww, so sweet. I love you, too, babe.

My hand pushed my phone and purse off the side of the bed onto the floor, and I laid there like a lamb ready to be slaughtered. After that ride on his bike, my pussy throbbed beyond description. If it could have talked, it would have screamed at Damian, begging him to fuck it. He took his vest, folding it almost in an almost ritualistic fashion, and set it aside. I didn’t see where. Then he peeled his tight t-shirt off and revealed the most incredible canvas of tattoo art across his majestic body. Skulls and bikes and symbols. A dragon. An anchor. And no women save the one on his arm with the red stilettos. Odd, I thought. With all the women I had seen him bring into that bar, I figured his body would be littered with them.

He came to the bed and straddled me. His hands gripped the top of my dress and ripped it wide open. It took my breath. A part of me wanted to protest. This was a gift for my husband. But another part of me felt something different. Something only drunkenness allowed me to admit to myself. It felt liberating. Damian was taking the clothes of a good wife and tearing them apart. He was opening the door to a dark dimension of my inner being and revealing a very bad wife.

Just for tonight.

A flush of warmth flooded my pussy and rippled up through my chest.

Grant, you wanted this.

I looked up at the Biker God and whispered something I never thought I would say to anyone other than my husband.

“Fuck me.”

He attacked my neck first with his mouth, taking the back of it with his hand. It reminded me of the vampire movies I had seen. I wanted him to bite me, to infect me with his darkness, to change me. And to set me free.

My skin vibrated under the touch of his lips, and I gasped for breath. “Yes!”

He took my wrists in his hands and pinned them over my head against the pillows, then cuffed them together in the grasp of one hand. One big hand. Then he returned his mouth to my neck. Sucking, licking, biting. Little did he know he was all over my most potent erogenous zone. Or maybe he knew? But how?

With his other hand, he reached under my body and unfastened my bra.

My eyes popped open for a second. A moment of guilt, perhaps? This was happening. I had a flash of my wedding day. My vows. Standing in front of friends, family, God if he existed. I remembered my promise to “forsake all others”.

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