Paul didn’t ask for my number. I didn’t ask for his. But we have a date. Today. This evening.  How do we communicate? I have no idea.  Two days since he fingered me in my car and my body hasn’t stopped playing images of that scene. I have orgasmed multiple times from the image alone. Did I ever come that fast with Edwin? I can’t remember. Our sex life was mostly dormant due to his hectic schedule.  I tap on my keyboard and the laptop screen comes alive. One hour until my meeting with potential investors. My eyes soak in all the necessary details required to win a proposal, I pen down a few things and continue skimming.   A knock on the door forces my head up. The next thing I do is survey my office. Everything is intact. Table, couch, mini fridge. Intact.  “Come in,” I say, tucking the pen into its holder. The door opens but no one steps in. I stand. Might be the investors. One glance at my outfit—chiffon top tuck

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” the feminine voice whispered. “It has been a week since my last confession.” The priest grunted for her to continue. “I’ve been a bad girl, Father.” She purred and hooked her finger under the strap of her bra, letting it down her shoulder slowly to reveal the swell of her breast. Her voice lowered to a throaty whisper. “A verryy bad girl and I’d like to be punished.” She put her hands together saying, “Please punish me as the Lord wills it.” “Our Lord Jesus is always willing to forgive our sins. His infinite mercy lasts forever.” Freya nodded. She needed more than words, she needed actions. Spanking. “Confess your sins, child.” Freya propped her elbows on the kneeler. The opening that separated her from the priest hid his face but his voice was familiar. Her nipples hardened to pebbles. She pressed her legs together. “I touched myself, Father.” Freya shivered from the memory. She could feel herself growing wet from the

Our wedding is a small one, held in the backyard of my new home with my handsome husband. He is white, British to be exact. Brandon is his name. He’s a beautiful man to look at and I don’t mind spending the rest of our reception staring at him. His lips are not as thin as you will expect from a British man, they are full and pouty. Speaking of the devil, Brandon walks up to us with a glass containing similar content as the other guests. Our skin colour clashes. The white of his skin pales in comparison to the black of mine. I hope my parents were right about this marriage. I’m only doing this because of my love for them. He whispers into my ear, “You make a beautiful bride, El.” His words take a few seconds to settle in. When they do, my heart gallops and my nipples harden behind my sleeveless gown. He dumps his glass into the tray of a passing server. Wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, he tucks his head into the space between my neck and shoulder

Brandon and I are not talking. It has been days since the ugly incident and the end of our honeymoon. And we have only managed a few words to each other. The door to the study opens and Brandon walks in. Usually, I’ll plug in my earpiece or pretend to be busy but I do the opposite. I flip to the next page of my study material. He settles down on the couch closest to the fireplace. I’m not sure why she’s here but I’m glad he is. We don’t speak for the next few seconds. I muster courage and walk over to him. His brows shoot up but I’m not deterred as I pry the book from him to straddle him. “Okay, Brandon. I messed that one up but I want to be your sub again,” I say in a voice below a whisper. Brandon is quiet but his arms circle my waist. “I want to be your sub again.” He palms my breasts and my head falls back. “Will you swallow what I give you to swallow or throw up like you did the last time?” My answer is delayed. “Must I?” I ask with a face slight

Birthdays are awkward partly because I hate them, because they hold too many bad memories. But this one is in full swing. Balloons. Music. Tents. Kids from the twins school. Everything, everyone the twins need to make their fifth birthday party a success. From my position by the window, the twins look to be having fun. I drag a seat from the desk to the window to watch them better. I don’t have to be there with them before I can monitor the party. Bren notices me staring and she calls her twin over. Wyn finally notices me and flashes me a tooth-gapped grin. She’s all smiles now till she wants something that’s not good for her health, then daddy becomes the bad guy. They whisper something to each other and chorus, “Daddy, come down. We miss you.” “In a minute,” I say with a laugh. But I don’t move. If I go downstairs, I’ll see El and other familiar faces I don’t like. “I miss you too.” They giggle in unison and run off. People say they