"Do you want to come?" He asks when I'm in the brink of getting my release. I nod as I sob, his fingers are working me out, pushing me towards the high. "Ask my permission." "Hmm?" I look at him when he suddenly slows down. "From now on," his eyes are burning holes through my skin, "you're gonna ask my permission for everything. No more secrets, no more lies, everything is on the table. Every-thing." The firmness of his warning, along with his intimidating look makes me gulp hard. "I-""Don't touch me." His warning stops my hand midway, as if he can guess I'm about to land it on his chest. "Do. Not. Touch. Me." He repeats as his eyes glare at me, the fingers that were inside of me are suddenly wrapped around my neck, "You have no right to touch me."He is so angry I don't understand what's happening, what did I do?Both his hands leave my skin as I wobble after being dropped down on my feet. While I'm still trying to balance myself from the high heels I'm wearing along with thi
Instead of having his driver taking us to the hospital, he brings me to the car park and opens the door of his sports car for me. I mutter another ‘thank you’ before going into the passenger seat. I purposely play with my phone, wanting to see if he'd notice I'm not wearing the seatbelt or even better, he'd help me wear it. I just want to hear something nice from him, even if it's just a reminder to wear the seatbelt. I want to assure myself he still cares for me. I'm delusional, because he drives the car without saying anything. But I know he purposely ignores me because the seatbelt warning is blaring yet he does nothing about it. I finally wear it to kill the annoying alarm. The ride goes silent for the whole ten minutes until I force myself to create a conversation, "How do you know Dr Fisher? Why Dr Fisher? Why not other doctors? Do you know her? Him..?" Of course he pretends as if my voice is the sound of wind, so I lower down the volume of the music, "Which hospital are we
My knee still hurts from the burn I had when I blew him in the bathroom, and now he's pounding into me from behind after he fucked me sideway against the shower glass wall. "Please," I plead as my left hand grips the end of the sofa. He wanted to move us to the bed but decided to stop by at the two-seater sofa in our walk-in closet instead. Bracing myself for the impact of his hard pounding, I wave my other hand towards my back as an effort to reach him so I can push him away, or at least to slow him down. But he takes my hand and uses it as an anchor instead, to slam into me with more intensity. He keeps going despite the multiple orgasms I had in the bathroom, or the one I just had a few seconds ago when he tortured my clit with his fingers. I'm too sensitive yet he purposely edges me into another one. "Shhh," he secures his hand on my front, squeezing the left breast while the other grabs my jaw and turns my face to look at him. "I know you love this," he kisses me deeply whi
Every time New Year comes, we'd set a series of goals to achieve, being all determined and excited to start a brand new year. But a week into it, or a month into it, or a quarter into it, we'd soon forget those goals. By summer when vacation days are coming, suddenly all of those goals come back in mind but you'd be like, ‘it's okay, another half year to go, I can do it.’Only to procrastinate again and by December, it's too late. ‘Might just start next year since it's gonna be a brand new year in a few weeks.’This, is exactly like those New Year resolutions. I have clearly set those goals in mind the first day Eve stepped into this house. I keep on refreshing my thoughts, reminding myself how much I hate this woman. I fucking said it out loud to her face, to remind myself I-hate-her. Apparently my heart isn’t listening, my cock obviously has been a traitor since day one, and my brain can't function well since I touched her at the gala. Her smooth skin, her intoxicating scent, he
She can be stubborn if she wants to, and I always learn it the hard way. This time around I have to calm myself every time I see the eyesore view of my living room; it's packed with big boxes that contain her stuff. They have been there since the past five days but she doesn't look like she's gonna do anything about it. At the same time I am also wrestling with my desire not to fuck her again. She might be ignoring what I asked her to do regarding the mess in the living room but she remained polite and positive if it's about other things. She's clearly sticking to her decision, just like me with mine. If she wants to play, I'm up for it. We'll see who'll budge first. Because my eyes hurt not just from the sight at the living room, but in the bedroom as well. Going to bed wearing her cheap pyjamas, oh God I feel like ripping them off for looking so cheap they deserve to be thrown into the fire so no one can wear them ever again.That's when I remember why I brought those stylists,
I want to hate her so bad. I want to ignore her the way I did the first week she's here. I want her to know how much I don't care about her, that she's nothing but a baby-making factory. Or my fuck doll. But when she lies down in exhaustion after we have sex, I can't find it in my heart to just leave her there. I'd carry her to the bathtub after preparing warm water for her to bathe in. Or at least to wipe her thighs clean if she's too tired. I'd regret how nice I was the next day and promise myself not to repeat it again. But like I said, I can't find it in my heart to ignore her.After four weeks of amazing sex routine with my sugar-baby wife, I'm glad I did what I did. Because I wasn't just taking care of her, but my two babies. As expected, I got the genetic just like Maddy with her triplets and twins. And Eve must have gotten it from her sisters; Serena has a twin, and Dani gave birth to a set of twins. Everybody screams twins so when Dr Fisher informed us she saw two heart
"You're not coming?" Lydia asks again to check if she's hearing me correctly, "You're sure you're not coming? You're sureee?" I sigh heavily before shaking my head, "I'm not coming, Lyd.”Not because I don't want to but because I don't have enough money to pay for the ticket. I mean, I do have some but I need to save it for the future, in case of emergency. Ever since I live with Augustine, I've been stealing food from his fully-stocked pantry and fridge for meals, and only use my money for commute and school projects. So to spend it on unnecessary stuff like this prom, seems like a waste for me. I admit I was excited back then because I thought I'd use the money I saved from my summer job to pay for the ticket. But my fund has dried to a warning level. That's why I choose to forget about the prom. I can do so many things with this 90 bucks rather than spending it on a ticket. “But we've been talking about it since we knew about it!" Yeah, we even planned to wear matching colour
"Get on the kitchen top." Aaaaaaand that's when reality hits. "I want to eat you first." I knew it. There is only one reason for him to be home early, and that is to fuck me like the whore I called myself the night I offered to be his sugar baby.Let's list out the details; we live together, we share the bed, and will be living and sharing the same space together for the next four years so I know we'll end up sleeping with each other one way or another, by how much flesh he and I were showing during that five days war over the mess in the living room. Knowing this fact, why don't I just take advantage of it since I'm short of money anyway? Smart, is what I'm calling myself these days. Whore? Well that's up to you, I just know that I need to survive. You can judge me all you want but I'm the one who'll be suffering at the end of the day with no money in her pocket. "You're still hugging me, how am I going to get myself on the kitchen top, Mr Knight?" I ask sweetly when he procee
I've given birth to two beautiful baby boys at 38 weeks, thank God we managed to keep them longer compared to Mason and Mimi ten years ago. Both were ridiculously long and heavy I am absolutely grateful I had them via c-section instead of getting my hoo-haa destroyed with how big the boys are. "Mummy," Mason calls me when I'm busy packing my breastmilk prior transferring to the freezer, "We're all waiting for you." He pulls his long face as he looks at me boringly. "Yeah yeah okay, give me a minute. Almost done." We're having our newborn photoshoot at the garden today since we didn't do that with our first twin. Augustine insisted on having it done before the boys are one month old. "Come on girlllll!" Carrie enters the kitchen joining Mason who's already sitting in front of the island, hands under the chin. Did I mention Augustine also invited family and close friends for this casual brunch? Yeah right, 'casual' with a catering crew and a buffet in the garden. I haven't seen wha
"Goodnight Sweetheart," he whispers on my ear as he yawns. He must be tired from everything he does today; work, kids, stuff. While me, who is still on bedrest, is seriously feeling restless by having absolutely nothing to do. I've tried gardening, cooking dinner, watching Netfl!x, and a bunch other useless boring things but I'm sooooo NOT tired that I can't sleep this early. I am full of energy, and these boys too by the way they're kicking me right now. Have I mentioned how horny I've been? That's all I can think of whenever he's with me- those delicious abs, the seductive smirk, deep sexy voice, firm ass, damn he's like a sexual object right now. Which I can only see but cannot touch. "Are you asleep?" I ask him in a low tone. He has stopped stroking my hair so there's a big possibility he already is. "Hmmm?" He hums sleepily. "I want you." "Hmmm." He hums again lazily, clearly uninterested. "I wanna have sex with you." "Hm." Can I take it as a yes? I've asked consent and
For God sake, fuck me already. He has been sticking his hard cock between our body every single night for three months now and yet he hasn't done anything about it. I'm sure I haven't gotten fat, only my tummy is going out a bit but other than that, I'm still wearing the same size. So what's happening? Why isn't he fucking me anymore? Does he want me to fuck him? Like I did before? When he called me his mistress?But I am still thinking. I am still in that thinking (or if we were to be precise; trying-to-accept-his-apology) period so it should be him who does the fucking. Afterall, he's the one who thinks with the dick all the time so what's happening? Why is he not that barbaric, egoistic, sex maniac man anymore? "Are you working today?" He asks on our way to the car after we're done with the monthly check-up. Our babies are healthy and growing, I'm officially in my second trimester now. He opens the door for me so I slip inside the car and sit in the passenger seat. He gets in
It's Friday and I was planning to pick up my wife and kids, uhh, my ex-wife and kids from school and work since 'someone' is gonna have her first sleepover this weekend but again, a crisis happened that I had to stay at work until seven. I fucking left the whole thing to Gerard and fled home eventhough we're nowhere near solving the crisis because there's no way I'm gonna miss the first dinner with them."You're sure about sharing the bed with Mimi?" I ask her when we're cleaning up after dinner. The kids are transferring the dishes from the dining table to the kitchen sink as both of us stand next to the island, packing the leftovers. As usual, she doesn't say anything unless it's necessary so I go further into explaining, "You can sleep in the guest room if you want. It will be a lot more comfortable." And maybe I can sneak in at midnight and accidentally fall asleep there. "K we're done." Mason announces after he puts the last plate there. "I'll load the dishwasher, you guys ca
I don't know what else to do I'm seriously so fucking tired from the work, Eve, and the kids. It's only been four weeks but I feel like I'm already reaching my maximum capacity of tolerating this. Every day I would wake up in Eve's little bed, kiss her good morning and tell her how much I love her, how sorry I still am, and off I go to my house so I can shower and have breakfast with the kids before sending them to school. Work for the whole 8 hours, then pick up Eve from her work place, send her home, back to the kids to have dinner with them and tuck them in bed before going to the apartment to spend the night with my wife. Uhh, ex wife. Mother of my children. I'm tired with this routine, and I feel worse when Eve still won't talk to me. I shouldn't complain because I'm the one who caused all of these but I'm just ranting out here. I don't know what I did, that made Eve refused to talk to me till this day, but I'm beat. So the last trick in my book would be this, bringing her
I can't, because I'm afraid he'd leave again if anything I say would trigger the same mood, if the next time he leaves he'd leave for good, with the kids. He was gone in the morning after an I-love-you and another apology. It's Sunday, so by 10.30 am Charles was already downstairs to pick me up for the fourth Sunday meeting with the twins. We have our baking class today, and as usual Mimi and Augustine will be in one team while Mason and I in another. "You seriously think I'd believe that?" Mimi shakes her head in disbelief as she stirs the bowl in front of her. We're learning how to make apple pie today."You never complained." He shrugs as he keeps on slicing the pastry."Because you look like you believed your own story," she shrugs too, it's cute how those two are behaving the same way and not realising it, "Didn't wanna crush your heart."He scoffs, finally looking at her, "Didn't wanna crush my heart? I was doing that so 'I' won't be crushing yours and Mason's heart." "Well
'Disappear from my life for all I care, you're dead to me.'I'm awake in tears as I've been the past four days. The same line keeps on looping in my mind when I'm in subconscious mind and eventually forces me to wake up in the middle of the night that I'd cry until I've fallen asleep again or the morning comes. I keep my eyes closed despite the tears staining my cheeks, because it sucks to open your eyes to this dark, cold night only to realise I'm pathetically crying alone in my bed. "I swear I'm not lying, I swear Augustine. I really didn't plan for this." I swear with my own life that I don't plan for this baby. I swear I never planned to use anything against him. I'm beyond grateful to spend time with the twins once a month, why would I do something to upset him when I'm trying my best to make him happy so I can see the twins every Sunday instead of just fourth Sundays.'We haven't been pregnant the whole time and you expect me to believe that now? When I've confessed my feeling
I regretted what I said the moment those words rang in my ears but I left anyway, because I couldn't take the sight of her crying face anymore. How could she lie to me after all the promises she made? Even if she doesn't love me anymore, how come she has the heart to manipulate our situation into this? Using another baby? She fucking swore she won't do it. Why would she drag another life into this? After three days I've finally calmed down and go back to the penthouse. We need to talk, and lay down the plan. I don't want that innocent baby to be caught in the middle like Mason and Mimi were. They end up not getting their mother's love for five years, thanks to my hatred towards her. I don't want that to happen to the baby. Everybody deserves their mother's love, and I'm too old for this revenge shit. But the penthouse is empty. For the fact it's almost 11 now. It's not Friday night so she's not having her girls night. Where is she? "She's home." "I 'am' home, J. She's not here."
I can't just 'whatever' her, because I love her. Even if I want to 'whatever' her so bad, I care. I fucking care about her. I care every bit of her to the point of noticing even the littlest thing, of how she has changed these days as if she's trying to distance herself from me. Every time I arrive at the penthouse after tucking the twins to bed, I would always find her already sleeping. For God sake, it was only 8pm when I got there but she had already dozed off either on the bed or on the couch, in her work clothes. At first I wondered if she had been staying up when I go home after we finish fucking, if she continued working until late at night hence the lack of sleep. But it happened every single day. She couldn't be working every night, and back then before the fight, she never did this so...I hate to think this is one of her ways to not have sex with me- I had to be this inconsiderate, horny old man who'd wake a tired, snoring lady just to claim his good time. Sounds like a