Stalked by the Lumberjack by Indi Marie

Stalked by the Lumberjack by Indi Marie

Author:Indi Marie [Marie, Indi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-10-18T00:00:00+00:00


I’ve done something bad again. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anger and betrayal coursing through my veins. Derek has just returned home with lipstick on his collar and smells of cheap perfume. He stumbles into the house drunk. I try to hide, but eventually he finds me. When he sees me, he comes up and tries to kiss me while holding onto my hips. With the overpowering smell of stale cigarettes and sex permeating my nose, I can’t help but to wrinkle it in disgust. The weight of the situation presses heavily on me, making it difficult to breathe. My stomach churns with a sickening combination of disgust and disappointment as I struggle to maintain composure. I wish he’d just stayed overnight with the women he slept with. How dare he have the audacity to touch me with their stench on him?

Feeling his hard cock hitting me in the stomach as he presses his body close to mine, I quickly turn my face, which makes him miss my mouth and land the kiss on my cheek. Derek’s touch, once comforting and familiar, now feels invasive and repulsive. In this moment, I just feel violated. My skin crawls as I try to distance myself from him, but he pulls me closer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, frigid cunt? Can’t I kiss my wife when I want to?” His words are slurred, and I can barely understand them. The once-endearing term of affection now drips with contempt, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Tears well up in my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I try to hold them at bay. It’s always worse when I cry.

Derek stumbles a bit and almost loses his balance. The weight of his drunken body leaning against mine only intensifies the feeling of being trapped. As my heart pounds, my palms begin to sweat. “You are a fucking waste of skin and should feel lucky that I took pity on you and married you,” he rants. His voice getting louder, as if him being drunk is my fault. The cruelty in his voice causes me to flinch and if it wasn’t for him standing up against me and holding my hips so tightly, he would tumble onto the floor. His fingers dig into my hips so there will definitely be bruises left behind. The smell of alcohol on his breath hits me in the face, mixed with the other repugnant smells he brings with him. It leaves me nauseated.

“Derek, stop.” My voice quivers with fear and anger. Unable to get away from him and knowing he’s going to escalate to unbearable violence, I try to reason with him. Finally, the rage boils over.

Unable to restrain myself, bitter words fly out of my mouth. “No, you don’t fucking come home smelling like another woman and get to put your dirty hands on me. Look at the fucking lipstick on the collar of your shirt, asshole.” I know when he gets like this that I should keep my mouth shut, but my anger and disgust win out.



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