FREE STORY. PAID BONUS CHAPTERS.
"I usually don't give a fck, but you bother me, and I hate that you do."
"What do you plan to do about it, then?"
"What can I do about it?"
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
When a devastating injury threatens the career of Terence Ti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
How did we get here?
Says the girl that willingly offered to suck his dick, and enjoyed it.
Okay to be fair, it was in the heat of a moment. An erotic moment to be exact. My eyes screw shut as more memories from last night haunt me all over again.
The way he bent me over the sink and took me.
The way he kissed my lower back because I asked.
The way he fucked me like he owned me.
The feel of his dick, the sound of his voice as he said all those filthy things to me.
Fucking filthy huh?
Love the way you take this D.
You feel that, Darling?
You take it like you own it.
You are pure chaos.
Reality crashes in as he wraps his big, strong arms around me from behind, grounding me in the present moment. The embrace feels like a sanctuary, a place where time could stand still, and I could stay forever. However, let's be honest; if I said I didn't wish for this spontaneous sex weekend to stretch on and on, I'd be lying. The prospect of it continuing endlessly is a tempting notion, lingering in the back of my mind as a desire unspoken but fervently felt.
He nuzzles into my neck and his beard tickles me. He smells so good even this morning and for one moment, the flight in me sneaks in, because I suddenly want to run away, be in any place where I wouldn't be close to him because for some reason, he sees all of me in just one look.
Recalling the events of yesterday, I couldn't help but notice him taking a gamble, essentially putting his entire self-worth on the line, hoping for a recreation of an encounter from two years ago. As I mentally replayed the scene, a sudden, overpowering urge to extricate myself from the situation emerged.
The enchantment that had enveloped the moment faded away, leaving behind a clear, unadorned reality. The afterglow of pleasure dissipated, dispelling the enticing fog that had surrounded the encounter. What was initially a momentary escape to orgasmic bliss now transformed into a precarious tightrope of professionalism, one I found myself delicately balancing upon.
In this very moment, the desire to escape intensified, prompting a visceral need to bolt from the unfolding scenario. The ephemeral ecstasy, once a vivid reality, now dissolved into a challenging professional predicament that demanded my attention.
Throughout my career, I've prided myself on maintaining a steadfast professionalism, steering clear of personal and intimate entanglements with clients. Yet, the escapade with Terence Tiles thrust me into uncharted territory, challenging the very core of my professional identity.
The inner conflict heightened—a seasoned professional grappling with unexpected emotions, questioning well-established boundaries, and contemplating the consequences of venturing into unprofessional waters. Terence Tiles became the exception, an enigma that unraveled a new chapter in my narrative. As I navigate this unfamiliar terrain, the tension between professional principles and burgeoning desires adds intricate layers to the unfolding story—a chapter I, for now, hesitate to explore further.
