Desire of a Wife

"Oh... yes... so good... so amazing... mmm..."

The gloomy sky cast dim light into the room.

A wide, soft rose-brown bed dominated the view.

Two naked bodies tangled endlessly.

Heavy breaths and lewd sounds filled the air.

The woman, with her dark hair cascading down, rode the man forcefully.

Her full, pale breasts swayed with each movement.

"I can't... really can't... lighter... ah, be gentler..." The man begged incoherently, unable to withstand her frantic demands.

She didn't stop or slow down.

Instead, she pushed down harder.

Waves of tingling pleasure washed over her, yet it wasn't enough.

The emptiness remained vast and unfulfilled.

"Ah... Charlotte... I... I'm done..." The man gasped brokenly.

With a spurt, white release came forth.

His member softened.

He panted heavily, mouth gaping like a stranded fish gasping for air.

...The peak of pleasure had been reached, then plummeted.

She couldn't climb back up.

She'd lost count of how many men she'd had.

She thought this one would last longer, but his time was even shorter.

"Useless. Get out!" Charlotte Roscente irritably climbed off the man.

She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling while catching her breath.

Her voice still carried a seductive softness from the recent debauchery.

But her displeasure was evident.

The man had heard of her temper.

Trembling with fear, he scrambled off the bed.

He knelt by her legs, voice shaking as he pleaded, "Charlotte, please don't be angry. I'll do better next time."

His hands fumbled over her intimate area, trying to appease her cravings.

Charlotte seemed dazed, as if her soul had drifted into nothingness.

Seeing no effect, the man swallowed hard.

His face took on a drugged-like expression, eyes full of greed.

"Charlotte, let me lick you. I'll make you feel good."

She remained silent.

Seizing the opportunity, he lowered his head.

His tongue probed and pushed inward vigorously.

The dark shape of his head entered her vision.

In the dim light, a flicker of resistance showed in her eyes.

Perhaps it was an illusion.

The next second, lewd moans escaped her lips.

"Mmm... ah... so good..."

"Deeper... mmm... harder..."

The sky darkened further.

No lights were on in the room.

Charlotte's lips, painted bright red, exuded a unique allure.

Her wanton cries made the man's member swell fiercely again.

He quickly withdrew his tongue from her wet entrance.

Excitedly, he exclaimed, "Charlotte, I'm hard! I'm hard again!"

"Quick! Put it in now!"

The emptiness was driving Charlotte insane.

The more disgusted, wanton, and debased she felt, the more she embraced it.

Her entrance, slick from licking, easily accepted his swollen size.

Her smooth, soft warmth gave the man immense pleasure.

But his excitement proved too much.

After just a few thrusts, he softened once more.

The man was stunned first.

He considered himself exceptional; otherwise, this generous and beautiful mistress wouldn't have chosen him.

Yet under her onslaught, he had fallen so quickly and completely.

Frustrated by this disappointment, Charlotte felt agitated.

But she had no time for reproach now.

Her craving was becoming unbearable, almost demonic.

"Get the dildo from my drawer. Hurry!" Charlotte urged impatiently.

The man paused, then quickly understood.

He opened the bedside drawer and retrieved the conspicuous dildo.

It was slightly larger than him, but not by much.

He secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Eagerly, he sheathed the dildo with a condom, knowing her habit.

Handing it to her, he fawned, "Charlotte, let me help you?"

"No. I'll do it myself. You can leave." All Charlotte wanted now was to satisfy her desire.

Nothing else mattered.

"Charlotte, I'm skilled. Let me—"

"Get out!"

The man tried to persist, but Charlotte cut him off coldly.

He left resentfully.

After closing the door, he muttered, "Bitch!"

He thought she couldn't hear, but Charlotte heard every word clearly.

She had intentionally chosen a non-soundproof door.

That way, when she had wild sex with other men, her husband would hear.

Unfortunately, her husband wasn't home today.

Such insults no longer stung; they even gave her a perverse satisfaction.

She picked up the dildo and began thrusting vigorously.

"Mmm... ah... ah... mmm..."

There wasn't much real pleasure.

But letting her depravity fill the room, spilling everywhere, brought a hidden relief.

After some time, her wrist ached terribly.

Still, she refused to stop, hoping the dildo would bring her to climax.

But it never quite hit the spot.