Jami Denise says: September 29, 2013 at 8:53 pm She could smell my loneliness like a hound on a hunt. The gold band never left my finger, but that didn’t stop her. Long legs, curves everywhere, and full, fleshy tits. Irresistible, and a temptation too sweet to ignore. I was a middle-aged man with a thirty-year mortgage, three kids and a bitch of a wife. I never understood why she chased me, but she did. It was only a matter of time until she ensnared me. I should’ve ignored the knock at the door. I should’ve turned up the volume on the ten o’clock news. But as she stood across the room, running her fingers over her slender thighs, nothing mattered but her. I wanted her to crawl to me, sink down on my cock, and milk the misery right out of me. I wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk, shove my dick in her mouth and watch her choke, punish her for making me want her. Her ass called to me, her hips begged to be grabbed, held down. “Once you taste me, you’ll starve every moment you don’t.” Her heat burned; singed my flesh like fire. I was addicted. Word count : 194 - See more at: http://www.rebeccagraceallen.com/sinful-sunday/sinful-sunday-flash-fiction-week-50#comment-2882
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