The afternoon sun slanted through the half-drawn blinds, casting stripes across the floor of the living room. The scent of vanilla candles still lingered in the air, though most had burned down to stubs hours ago.
Latina straddled Her lover between her thighs, his fingers traced slow, teasing over her pantyhose.She had just reached for him, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt, when the front door clicked open.
The sound was unmistakable—the heavy thud of a briefcase hitting the floor, the jingle of keys tossed onto the console table. Latina’s body went rigid. No. No, no, no— her lover’s hand froze mid-motion, his eyes snapping toward the foyer just as heavy footsteps approached. Her husband, appeared in the doorway, his tie loosened, his cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His gaze swept over the scene—the couch, his wife’s half-naked body, the way her Lover’s fingers were still pressed against her crotch. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.
He quickly rest
April Paisley, Emojizzman, Latina bondage, Stanford
