Le Château Cassé. Isolated stone farmhouse. End of the world. Friday afternoon. My heart pounds. Philippe’s R4 green pulls up. Twenty-five. Ripe. I stand at the door. Black dress hugs my curves. Low neckline. Knees bare. He eyes me like…
Hidden lounge pulses under city lights. Smoke curls. Bass thumps like a heartbeat. I step in, heels clicking on black marble. No more good wife. That ends tonight. Poolside betrayal still burns. His cock in Sylvie’s mouth. Beatrice riding him…
City pulses above. Underground parking. Halles district. Dim lights flicker. Engines growl distant. Heart hammers. I kill the engine. Scénic’s interior hot. Mirror check: short skirt hugs ass. Blouse loose. No bra. Panties off. Toss them aside. Wet already. Daily…
Jaguar stalls. Vendée countryside. Friday night black. Exhausted from endless drives. Nathy waits at home, worried. No phone signal. Hilltop view: misty village below. Vermillon-l’Église. Barefoot on dirt path. Twilight breeze cools rage. Church bells toll eight. Huge hotel opposite…
Nice pulses below my hilltop house. Terracotta roofs shimmer under the Mediterranean sun. I’m Sylvie, 39, top lawyer by day. Untouchable in court. But nights? I crave control. Raw power. Today, my godson Arnaud arrives. Fresh 18. Virgin. Timid. Perfect…