Burned

Ella remembered, clearly, her own agonizing humiliation. Spread open while her husband touched her, as she fought to find arousal in the game he wanted to play. But there had been none. Nothing until James’ eyes had centered on her thighs, spearing past her boredom with an instant, flaring heat. She had creamed herself in seconds, and the terror that Jase, or even James would realize it, had nearly destroyed her.

She sighed morosely as she walked out to the back porch and threw herself into one of the padded loungers there. The late afternoon sun was passing over, but beneath the cool shelter of the low trees and thick vines that wrapped around the porch, Ella was spared the blinding heat. The outer heat. Her inner heat was killing her.

She had finally given up on changing panties. After the second pair, she had thrown her hands up in disgust and stopped. After ten years of no sexual activity, of fighting her desires and her needs, her body was evidently taking over. It wouldn’t stop