by Writing Shark
A disobedient wifey
“Where have you been for so long?” comes the question. And immediately an accusation. “I have been waiting for you.”
You’ve been in a relationship with Olivia for three years now, but today is the first day that you would like to throw your beautiful, intelligent, ambitious and strong girlfriend over the kitchen table, a red imprint of your hand on her cheek and her ass, and fuck the little bitch into the obedience she’s been missing lately.
But why don’t you do that?
“Honey, I told you I was working.”
“With Elle?” You nod. “You know I want to fuck her too,” Olivia says defiantly. “And you know that I am your girlfriend.” This time there is no seductive eroticism in her voice. You stop in the middle of the entrance and stare at her.
“Where is Abigail?” you ask. “Doesn’t she care about you? Or Ashley?” You blink. “Have you had sex today?” You can see it on her face. You stepped on a landmine.
“Why do you care? Just an FYI: Ashley is with her family and I had no desire for Abigail’s dried-up pussy. I’m your fucking girlfriend and you’re not here to fuck me!”
“I had to work,” you just say and don’t understand her. Olivia of all people should know best what your job entails.
“Oh, that’s what you call it? Work? You fuck other girls while I sit here, pussy dry and mouth unused?”
“Olivia we fuck almost every day. I don’t understand…” But actually you do and you don’t lie to your girl. This is also written in your contract, the one you have created in your mind, you suddenly realize. But that doesn’t help now.
“But you’re not involving me!” She’s really angry. “We’re supposed to be a team but you just fuck anyone you want and I miss…” No, that was nothing. Now you’re really in danger. “I built your company just like you did. Your name is on the door but without my influence on social media…” She stops again but this time you are too angry.
“Fuck social media. Do you really think I wouldn’t be able to fuck and own ten girls like Ashley?” Then you calm down. What is happening with me? Why does it bother me so much to see her angry… Or sad… Fuck… “Olivia you are my greatest creation and…”
“So that’s what I am for you? Fuck you! You… you… you’re sleeping on the couch today!” With that, Olivia turns around on the spot, presents you with her tight ass in her nylon tracksuit and storms upstairs.
“Wait…” you mumble. “Did you…” You shake your head. “Did you just throw me out of my own bed?” But there is no answer. “Fuck…”
What am I doing here, you ask yourself again and again. But you know the answer. You fuck Camila Nerez in her tight Latina pussy and make her happy.
“Si Senor! Si! Gracias Senor Stratton.” Her accent is lovely but her smile is even more so.
I should be upstairs with her, you think to yourself and shake your head. Instead, you fuck the busty beauty even harder and hope her screams can be heard throughout the house. Her pussy is good. Tight and wet. But that’s all of them.
And somehow today you can’t concentrate on the girl who is so in love with you. You can’t look at her either, preferring to stare out the large wall of windows while you send shockwaves through Camila’s Latina ass and fuck her doggy style.
You don’t want to see her face. Don’t want to see her adore you. Don’t want to see her eyes, the happiness in them. Love is weak and dangerous. Love can be exploited. And love is… so final.
No. You are not afraid of love.
But you’re afraid to admit that…
“Fuuuck..” Camila’s long drawn-out scream echoes through the house as her body trembles into a powerful orgasm and you hold her up by her hair. “Darling…” she gasps. “Thanks but…”
“But what?” you ask absently.
“You didn’t come… And I didn’t have to beg for permission.” The girl sits up, straightens her hair and leans against you without you reacting.
“It’s okay,” you hum. Then you put your arm around her. By itself. You can’t deny it, you want closeness but you can’t look at Camila.
“Thank you, darling,” she whispers and cuddles up to you.
“You know that I don’t love you,” you suddenly say, but you hold the girl tighter to you.
Fuck where did that come from now?
“I know,” she whispers, resting her head in the crook of your arm. The naked beauty looks at you from below with big eyes. “But that’s okay.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” she nods. “That’s how love is. I’ve accepted for a long time that you don’t love me. But you’re fucking me and that’s a form of love, right?” You just grunt, then shake your head.
“No. You’re only a fuck to me when I need it.”
“Okay.” And nothing happens.
“You don’t have to stay here, Camila,” you say and are frightened of yourself. “I have enough pussies. One call and this house is swimming with pussy juice. You don’t have to…” It doesn’t help. “You don’t have to do this to yourself. You don’t have to deal with me.”
“But I want this,” she says firmly and now you actually look at her. “I want you to fuck me whenever you want. What else am I supposed to do? Instagram? That brings money but no joy. No. I know I’m broken. We all are. Any girl who shows herself naked on the internet. People like you are proof that this is what we are good for. At least I’m happy about it.”
“Really? You don’t seem happy.”
“That’s because you don’t care about me,” she says in a neutral voice. “But I care about you.” Then, without asking, she swings herself onto your lap, reaches between her thighs and jerks your cock stiff. “And I can tell you’re not feeling well.” She flinches briefly, then leans forward and kisses you gently on the lips. “I don’t like it when you suffer. Men like you always suffer alone because the girls in your lives are too stupid to understand you.” She smiles kindly at you. “But you’re not alone.” Then she lifts herself onto you and her face flickers as she feels you inside her. She speaks with her eyes closed. “You have Olivia. And she’s in love with you.”
“I know” is all you say and lift her up so she can fuck you. Maybe you just need to cum in a hot pussy to… But Camila doesn’t move, her eyes open and staring at you.
“And you love Olivia.” You don’t say anything. “Everyone can see it. So why are you fucking me and not her?”
“She’s angry and…”
“No Damian.” What’s wrong with this girl? “You don’t care about girls’ feelings. Also Olivia’s. But you love her. So ignore her and do what you do best.” A smile crosses her face and she moves. “Fuck me, destroy me and make me happy.” Her cunt contracts around you and she bounces up and down with wobbling tits and ass. “We wake up your girlfriend, you fuck yourself empty in me, or on me, however you want, and then you tell your girlfriend what you expect from her.”
You’ve never had sex like this with Camila before, but it’s good in a certain, new way. You even ask where she wants it, not to test her but because you really want to know.
“Inside me,” she gasps, out of breath. “I want to feel you inside me.” You grant her her wish and make her scream like a banshee.
“Thank you… Camila…” you finally say. “I know what I have to do.”
“I’m glad,” she says and sticks her fingers into her overflowing honey pot and then licks them off.
While you lie down on the couch next to Camila and pull her body against yours, giving her warmth and security, Scarlett Johanson drives through the lonely and cold night to betray you.
“I’m curious to know the reason why Hollywood’s most successful actress wants to meet me in a cloak and dagger event,” says Reese Witherspoon, leaning back in her expensive armchair.
The woman in front of her is not the self-confident and eloquent lady she portrays, but rather a confused bundle of nerves that looks terrible. She can’t even look the other woman in the eyes.
“It’s about my work,” she says so quietly that it can hardly be heard even in the quiet night-time office of Avory Agency.
“With Damian Stratton?”
“Yes.” Then Scarlett Johanson raises her beautiful head. “I want to get away from him.” Reese leans over her table, a spark in her eyes.
“Why?”
Writing Shark 