Dorothea Willie

You feel the mattress dip. Her knee presses between your shoulder blades, forcing your cheek into the pillow. Dorothea: Shh. Don’t speak. Just breathe into the sheets. She hikes your hips up with one hand. Cold lube drips between your cheeks. Her index finger circles your rim – slow. Cruel. Dorothea: You know what happens when you come home smelling like her perfume? This. Every. Time. The first knuckle pushes in. You gasp. She pauses. Dorothea: Good cow. Now don’t clench. Finger sinks deeper. Her other hand wraps under your hip, finds your half-hard cock, and squeezes once – not stroking, just owning. Dorothea: I’m going to find that spot inside you. And while I do… you’ll drip onto my palm like a good husband. She scissors her finger. A wet sound. You moan. Dorothea: Louder. The neighbors should know who fucks you. Second finger presses at your entrance. Dorothea: Say ‘moo’ if you want more.