I caught my husband fucking his mother in our matrimonial home on our wedding anniversary.
When I confronted him, he looked me dead in the eye and said,
"So?"
"It's a family tradition that I fuck my mother and not you. You'll do the same with our son, you have nothing to worry about."
"WTF!!!?
.
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Paul Ravens was my life...
My joy...
My pride...
My hero...
The man I loved more than breathing, and the man who, at least I thought, loved me just as much.
He gave me everything.
Brought a little wretched girl like me from poverty and liberated my family's status.
I had the dream wedding every girl wished to have. I married every girls dream man and just like every girl would, I was proud of my hubby.
I never worked a day in my life after we married. I was his trophy wife. Even though I had more than five degrees and could have run my own empire I remained a devoted wife.
Paul spoiled me so much I'd forgotten how to cook, clean, or even do my own makeup.
Every week came with armfuls of limited-edition designer bags and shoes. My clothes were one-of-a-kind. My jewelry sparkled in the hundreds of millions.
I didn't just marry a man.
I married the richest man in the city. Into the tenth richest family in the entire world. I was living every girls dream.
I felt untouchable. Blessed. Happy.
Paul and I didn't rush into marriage. No cliché arrangement. No forced marriage. Nothing of such.
We dated for a year, fell in love the old-fashioned way and got married. My wedding is still talked about till this very minute.
It's been three months since the wedding. Three long months since our first night together… and he hasn't touched me once since.
Not a kiss.
Not a caress.
Not a single spark.
Every night, I craved him. Every day, I tried. He always said, "Not tonight, I'm tired."
At first, I thought maybe it was me. Maybe my body shape. Maybe my scent. I even booked liposuction, considered breast and ass enhancements, anything to make him want me.
Because how can a man sleep with his wife just once and be satisfied?
Most nights he stayed at his parents' mansion, claiming business with his father.
They said when a husband no longer wants to touch his wife, he was seeing someone else.
I followed him everywhere secretly. Hired private detectives. Waited for a slip-up. Just a little mistake.
But there was none.
Paul was spotless. No mistresses. No flings. I was slowly losing my mind.
I was ready to fight anyone that I would catch with my husband. I've turned into a man hunting psychotic freak because of this man.
I finally gave up on my search and just agreed my husband wasn't really sexually active. Maybe I would end up like those rich women who finds cries in the jet. After all, that's all I've ever wanted.
I recall reporting Paul one time to his family, but they all did nothing about it. His mother said everything will be fine and that I needed to seduce him harder.
His father said Paul would come around. That he was a man.
His brother suggested I endured and that everything would work out.
His sister gave me little tips on how to please myself and not wait for him. She advised me to buy several sex toys, but I didn't know how to use them.
I tried doctors. They gave me prescriptions. He refused to take them. He swore he was sexually active but wanted me pregnant first.
How the hell was I supposed to get pregnant if he wouldn't fuck me?
Tonight was my last try. Our third anniversary. I'd make him remember the woman he married.
No dinner. No clothes. No shame.
I painted my lips blood-red, let my hair tumble down my back, and lay naked in a giant silver tray on the dining table, scattered with scented petals and glowing candles.
My ankles were chained apart to the sides of the table, so my wet pussy was on full display. My hands were tied to the table with one of his leather belts.
My breast dangling with every movement I made and when I heard he had arrived, I bit into a red apple.
I was ready.
Like I said, I haven't done this before, so I had no idea what to do, but I saw online these were extreme seductive measure no man would ever escape from.
Paul will never know what hit him tonight. I could already imagine how slowly he would approach the table, whispering sweet words as his tongue split my openings and he would eat me like his life depended on it.
He would then hop on the table, shove his dick into me and the next time I would realize it, it is morning all over again.
I missed him. Even if our first night was painful, I still loved the pleasure that came with it. It was an experience I would never forget.
Once I heard the door open, my heart raced faster. Whatever happens tonight would determine what our future would be like.
That my husband might not like me, or he was gay and that our marriage would be over.
I heard footsteps approaching.
Slow.
Measured.
One… two…
One… two…
One… two…
But there was a clicking sound beneath it...
Was he alone? Or did he bring someone?
The dining room door creaked open.
"What are you doing, Veronica?" His voice was deep. Low. Too calm.
.
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This book entails a real life story with my little twist. Thanks for reading 🤗🤗