Forbidden Cravings [Filthy Erotica Collections]

SONIA

Sprawled out across the silk sheets, my legs parted, my nightgown bunched up around my waist, I gripped the sleek pink vibrator tightly, its low hum filling the quiet air as I pressed the buzzing tip against my swollen clit.

A soft gasp escaped my lips, head tipping back. I circled the vibrator around my clit slowly at first, then faster, my hips rocking up to meet the relentless vibrations.

My free hand trailed up to squeeze my breast, pinching my left hardened nipple as the pleasure built slowly in tight, aching waves. My breathing grew ragged, thighs trembling.

“Oh... fuck,” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

I pushed the toy harder, sliding it down to tease my slick entrance before returning to that sensitive bundle of nerves.

The orgasm hit me out of nowhere. My back arched, a sharp cry tearing from my throat as my walls clenched tight around the vibrator, my whole body shuddering in release.

I lay there, panting through the aftershocks, unsatisfied… again.

I knew this would be pointless.

“Ugh!” I switched off the vibrator and pushed down my nightgown, then sat upright.

Fred will be back home in a few minutes. I'd better start making dinner.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. Then I left the bedroom and climbed down the stairs to the kitchen.

I made a quick dinner: roasted chicken with gravy. And just as I was setting the food on the table, Fred returned from work.

“Baby, I'm home!” He announced from the door.

I rushed over to greet and welcome him.

“Welcome back home, Honey.” I threw my arms around his neck, locked my fingers tight and stood on my toes, leaning in for a kiss.

He brushed his lips softly against mine. I pressed closer, grinding my boobs against his chest, kissing him deeper, opening my lips to give him full access to my mouth.

But instead of taking it, he pulled back gently and sniffed. “What's that smell, baby?”

I didn't respond. I kissed him again, horny and needy.

But he pulled back again and chuckled, “Baby, I'm hungry and haven't eaten all day. What'd you make?”

My mood soured instantly.

I tried not to show it. “Just chicken and gravy.”

He smiled brightly. “Sounds delicious! Man, I'm starving.”

He released my grip on his neck, tugged off his tie and headed for the dining room. I stood there and watched him, chest suddenly tight with rising frustration.

I let out a soft exhale and joined him in the dining room. As we ate, all he talked about was work, work, work. If it wasn't how he closed a deal, it would be how he signed a new one or how his assistant did or that.

I kept nodding and humming, pretending I was listening. After dinner, he returned upstairs while I cleared up and washed the dishes.

A few minutes later, I was done. I watched the TV for a bit in the sitting room before I turned it off. I locked up everywhere, turned off the lights and returned upstairs to our room.

Fred was already done bathing, clad in his bathrobe, lying on his side of the bed, while he read a newspaper.

“The faucet in the bathroom is faulty.” Fred said quietly, not glancing at me.

I shut the door behind me. “Oh, that's right. I forgot to tell you about it. It happened this afternoon when I was taking a bath.”

“I've already called the plumbing company, they'll be here tomorrow morning.” He announced.

I joined him on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. I pressed closer to him, my hand slowly sliding up his thigh to his crotch. Excitement and optimism filled me thoroughly as I felt his limp dick in my hand.

He moved the newspaper to glance at my hand, then at me.

I shot him a hopeful smile. “I want you, baby.”

He stared at me for a moment. “I want you too, but I'm tired. It was a really stressful day at work today, you already know that.”

I pouted my lips, giving him my cute puppy dog eye, hoping it would work. “How about I just ride you then?”

He reached out and caressed my cheeks and chuckled. “Aww, aren't you a cute wittle thing? I'd love that, too, sweetheart, but like I said, I'm tired. You can use your vibrator tonight if you want it that badly.”

My chest felt tight with both exasperation and irritation. Nonetheless, I forced a smile. “Okay.”

Then I turned and scooted to the other side of the bed. “Good night.”

This is my life.

I'm not happy in my marriage. I'm a stay-at-home wife simply because Fred forbids me to work, and also because I loved him so much that I was willing to compromise.

He treats me well and provides me with everything I need. He's your typical dream husband.

But there's a problem.

Our sex life.

No, we don't even have a sex life. We don't have a sex life because he's always tired and always needs to sleep.

At first, I suspected he might be cheating on me with some side chick or his secretary, as any woman in my situation would suspect, and that was why he was always tired every time he came back home from work.

And for this reason, I hired a private investigator. Turns out it was a total waste of time and money.

Fred wasn't cheating at all, which somehow makes it even worse. Straight to work from home, and back home after work. Your typical, hardworking, loyal husband.

We only have sex about three times a whole month, sometimes even twice, depending on how tired he is during that month.

And God, mere words can't even begin to describe how sexually frustrated and starved I am. Dildos and vibrators don't satisfy me anymore. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.

Please, what on earth do I do? This is driving me crazy here! Literally!

The next morning, I woke up early and made Fred's breakfast, packing it for him, because he normally leaves early.

As he climbed down the stairs, I handed him the lunchbox.

He seemed genuinely grateful.

“Aww, you're the best, Honey.” He pecked me on the forehead and took the lunchbox from me. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I replied.

He turned and made for the door.

“Oh!” He turned quickly, “That’s right. I almost forgot. The plumber will be here this morning.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

As the door clicked shut, the house suddenly felt empty and cold… as usual.

I walked over to the wine rack, picked out a bottle of wine and an empty drinking glass. I returned to the living room and settled down on the couch, then turned on the TV.

I poured myself a drink and watched the playing screen. Seconds slowly dragged by, turning to minutes, then hours. I lost track of time.

Ding dong!

The doorbell rang suddenly, making me jolt.

“Fuck.” I cursed under my breath, took another sip and swallowed, dropping the glass of wine on the table.

I rose to and smoothed my thin silk robe, which was barely tied, its belt loose. I crossed to the foyer and opened the door.

I blinked.

Oh… my… God.

The man standing before me was tall, about over six feet or something, with the kind of build that looked earned rather than cultivated.

His navy work shirt stretched across a broad chest and powerful shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, tanned forearms filled with dark hair.

His beard was neatly trimmed, framing his sharp jawline, and a lock of dark hair had fallen over his forehead as though he'd run a hand through it moments ago.

Good God!

What a man!

In one hand was a heavy toolbox he carried with effortless ease.

His eyes lifted to mine, and a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hello, you're Mrs Baker?”

I felt my pussy burn with need, and I clenched my thigh tight, surreptitiously.

God, I want him!

Right fucking now!