short stories

Bad Lies

Soaking wet, I stepped into his pants. Unseen by watchful eyes, the mirror became my story teller. Hands over and under, my breasts were not enough. Two as one, we fucked all night while admiring our own beauty. Then as I walked away from the story teller, I grabbed the crotch of his pants as they draped below my cheek. These naughty thoughts, poured freedom into those pants as I took them off and laid them on his wife’s side of the bed.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.