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No. I need to stop this.
Tomorrow morning, I’m going to call some of the sluts I used to bang in high school. Work out all my issues by literally fucking the shit out of them. Making sure they can’t walk afterward by fucking them so hard. That’s what I’ll do.
A bit relieved at my plan, it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to do it’s work and put me to sleep.
***
And it seems like just two seconds later my eyes are opening up again, looking around. It’s fucking morning. Already.
I yawn, and notice that my cock is still hard.
What the fuck is going on? I know it’s probably morning wood, but I’m really hoping that my dick took a break between when I sort of passed out and this morning. I’m hoping it took a breather, and got some sleep before rising to attention for me this morning. Because last night, I hit the epiphany.
I need to just fuck this thing I have for Jocelyn out. I need to find a girl. Any fucking girl. And I need to fuck the living shit out of her.
It’ll lead to a much happier family life.
Believe it or not, this actually brings a smile to my face. I’m going to give the cock a good workout, and it’s not going to involve my dad’s wife. And then I’ll be good to go. Not distracted at every turn by Jocelyn Anders. Hell, if dad asks me to campaign, which I’m pretty sure he will, I’m going to need to fuck whatever girl I find to make sure I have a clear head during the day.
I finally have a plan. Yesterday….that was just hormones taking over. I’m the master of my fucking domain.
I put on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt and head downstairs.
It’s still early enough that dad and Jocelyn will probably still be having breakfast.
I walk down the hallway to the kitchen and breakfast nook of the townhouse and I hear voices coming from there.
I step in. Dad’s reading the newspaper and a series of whatever on his iPad. He’s not really paying any attention to Jocelyn.
He’s a fucking fool. Because she’s sitting there in a pair of black yoga pants that barely come up to her waist. And a black sports bra. Literally, that’s all she’s wearing. She’s having a cup of coffee and I look at her bare midriff and her flat tummy and curvy fucking ass. Her tits are gorgeous and my cock, which was getting ready to take a break, is back at being rock hard again.
Fuck.
“Oh, you’re up,” dad says to me as he notices me standing there. “Since you don’t work anymore, I’m going to need your help on my campaign managing social media,” he says.
I stand there watching him.
“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I need to take a conference call,” dad says getting up and walking toward the opposite end of the kitchen, past the large island and refrigerator and stove. It’s like one of those cavernous kitchens with two entrances, usable by a large staff if needed to entertain. “Once I get done with my call, we’ll talk, Lance,” dad says as he steps out.
Leaving me with his gorgeous wife who’s barely wearing anything.
Fuck. What was that promise I made yesterday?
Jocelyn
This is insane. I’m insane. Lance is insane. We’re all going to Hell.
How the hell was I even thinking I would get away with this?
And what is wrong with me? Putting something like this on? After what I did with him yesterday?
I cheated on my husband. I’ve broken the sacred vows of marriage. I bet that’s what you’re thinking when I talk to you now, isn’t it?
I know you probably hate cheating. I do too. I have a subscription to Kindle Unlimited and I’ll stop reading right there if my story has cheating in it.
At least two days ago, that’s what I would have told you. Because after six months, I forgot what sex tasted like. What it felt like. I forgot what it felt like to have a man want me. And if that man was as gorgeous and hot as Lance, well I would have never comprehended that something could happen like that to me.
Even if we left a bit awkwardly, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about Lance yesterday after what happened at Saks.
