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His Wife

By Aaron Majewski

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords edition 2011

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The room exuded his masculine presence, which only heightened the sense of urgency and the need which filled her new master. Richard brought her to the center of his bedroom and she stood pliant under his hands.

With a deft touch he loosened the ties at her throat and pushed the simple dress from her shoulders, so that its torn cloth fell about her ankles. Beneath, her shift was torn only in a few places, thick and well made it was clean and fresh. It took him only a moment to slip this too from her shoulders, so it fluttered around her feet.

Her bared breasts were larger than his wife's, centered high on her chest they jutted forward, her nipples large and dark with her excitement and her uncertainty, the small aureola flushed red. She looked up at him with her big green eyes, trembling faintly and luminous with her excitation.

Richard leaned forward and cupped the back of her head, tilting it up for his mouth. Danielle lifted her face to his and parted her lips, shivering a little as he took her kiss in a genial theft, but in a way which made it plain he would brook no resistance to his will.

She smelled of plums and jasmine, one scent her shampoo, the other her soap. And beneath that was an underlying smell he could not describe, uniquely, unfamiliar her. He stepped back slightly, one hand reaching around to cup her proud arse, hart-shaped, high and tight.

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