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February 26 - February 27, 2025
Pity? No, that’s not it. Maybe because my brain gets off on breaking pretty things. The thought of corrupting daddy’s ivy-league princess gets me hard. All that money spent on finishing school only to be finishing on my cock with a big smile on her face. I’m sick.
How could I have not seen what was happening? It makes me sick I was almost the best man at this woman’s funeral.
The sound of my wetness fills the space. My arousal practically dripping out of me. He pulls his hand out and wipes it on my nipple, dropping his mouth and sucking it off while he looks up at me. Oh my god.
“Stop being prim and proper and show me what a filthy slut you are when nobody’s looking.”
“Be my messy girl.”
“Then we’re not stopping. This is your fucking baptism, Sunshine.”
I’ve never wanted to ruin and resurrect something more.
“Sweet Jordana Landry from the big house on the hill. Always following the rules, behaving like a sophisticated socialite. Prim, proper, and pretty as can be. So lovely.” I lick across her lower lip, she opens up, and I spit inside. Her eyes fill with fire, and I smile. “But when you tilt your head up like that for me, I know you’d rather wear my hand around your neck than anything from Harry Winston. You need someone to worship and fuck you the way you deserve. Because deep down, you’re a needy little whore, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I should tattoo a diamond necklace on the back of my hand . . . that way I can dress you up whenever I want.”
She twists and writhes, her hips rolling on me. “Please, please, please . . .” “You learn those manners in finishing school, princess?” “Uh-huh.” She nods again. “When do I say thank you?” I grab her neck and squeeze with one hand while pinching her nipple with the other. “Open your mouth.” She does, and I spit inside. “Now you thank me.”
“My life is a mess. And you’re his best friend.” “You know how I feel about messes.” He flips my visor up, exposing me. “I was his best friend. But now I’m the man who enjoys making his fiancée come on my cock . . . and she’s fucking gorgeous when she cries my name.”
Cam’s voice is in my ear again. “You think you can hurt me? Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I’m into that shit. Come on, break the skin. Make me bleed.”
He sits up, adjusting, somehow pushing even deeper while he works my clit with his hand. “Almost there, aren’t you? Does this turn you on? Knowing you’re shoulder to shoulder with a table full of hockey players and about to come all over their captain’s cock? They might find out. You’re getting wetter just thinking about it. You’ve drenched me, Jordan.”
“I know how well your cunt can grip a dick. Show me how you like being fucked. Keep your eyes on mine the whole time. He may not have enjoyed watching you, but I do. And tonight, you’re the main attraction. Understand?”
“So, who’s part of our threesome?” “Dean Winchester.” At least she didn’t say Big Bird or some shit. I like kink, but I draw the line at puppets.
“The things you crave go much deeper than you let on. And at the bottom, you want to be degraded and praised and used. It's as if you want to bring me to my knees—well guess what, Sunshine? You fucking do.”
“Fuck, Sunshine. Where have you been all my life? I should have gotten with you a long time ago. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble, wasting all our time fucking the wrong people.”
I burst into tears. Oh god, what is happening? I’m having a crygasm. I’m crymaxing.
“Because I kneel for you.” A smile spreads across his face, and I swear I melt into a puddle. “You wanted people to see this side of me, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m leaving my ego at the door. You are my queen, and I will kneel for you every day. You aren’t a quiet girlfriend on the side, you’re center ice.”
“Oh, Chris Smith Tree, Oh Chris Smith Tree, how homely are your branches . . .” I mumble.
I haven’t taken it off since he put it on. I wiggle it off and notice an engraving on the inside that I didn’t see before, one word: Priceless. A juxtaposition to I love you this much.
I smirk, and my hand finds her throat so fast she jumps, her heel digs deeper into my chest. “I’m going to eat this fucking cunt because I want to. Don’t forget, wife, in the bedroom, you kneel for me.”
When she does, I grip her neck and spit her cum into her own mouth. “Taste that?” “That’s my worthiness. The taste of my bride greedy for her husband’s cock.” Heat flashes in her eyes, and I drop a loving slap to her cheek. “My wife’s such an eager little cumslut, even for her own pussy . . . God, you’re perfect.” I kiss her lips, and she mewls against mine.
My palm rests on her throat, the diamond necklace tattooed on the back of my hand is centered perfectly with her neck, and I smile.
She’s my twin flame. My one and only. My forever. She’s corrupted me—in the best way imaginable.
