texting in Hotwife & Sharing

The first time he’d mentioned it, six months ago, she’d laughed. A sharp, incredulous bark that echoed off the tiled walls of their kitchen.

The first time he’d said it, whispered it against the shell of her ear in the dark after they’d made love, she’d stiffened in his arms.

The suburban house sat in perfect stillness, its windows dark except for the blue-white glow of Marcus's phone. 11:07 p.

The morning light filtered through gauze curtains, painting pale stripes across Sarah's bare shoulders as she stood at the kitchen counter. Coffee steamed in her cup, untouched.