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Six-Nine Dripping Fantasies Novel Cover

Six-Nine Dripping Fantasies

**WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT 21+** + + My name doesn't matter. My filthy urges do. I came home from work. The bedroom door was half open. My husband was there, pounding into some woman on our bed, his c**k slamming in and out, deep and rough. I should have screamed. Instead my p**sy clenched hard. I stood frozen, watching every thrust. My hand slipped under my skirt on its own. Fingers circled my cl*t as he f**ked her right in front of me. He glanced over. "You like watching my c**k stretch her?" I rubbed faster. "Don't stop," I whispered. Then I came shaking, eyes locked on him pounding her. *** 69 Dripping Fantasies is sixty-nine raw taboo stories. Wives catching husbands cheating and getting soaked instead of angry. Step-family secrets whispered in quiet. Glory holes that fill fast. Honeymoon wife swaps sparked by one dumb dare. Older rich men taking total control. Professors crossing every forbidden line. Husband's best friends sneaking in. Strangers who follow, then f**k hard. Group nights in dark clubs. Cucks cleaning up every last drop. *** I'm on my knees. One thick c**k buried deep in my throat, making me gag. The woman behind me squeezes my t*ts until it hurts so good. Her tongue between my ass, teasing, no c**k has filled my p**sy or a*s yet. But I'm trembling, dripping, seconds from squirting everywhere. Two massive black c**ks wait their turn, and her presence makes it filthier... hotter. I never knew I craved this so badly. *** No soft romance. Just dirty yeses where no should be. Sixty-nine stories. Sixty-nine surrenders. Read if you're brave. These pages might leave you wet, jealous, horny... or secretly think of your own filthy fantasies when nobody's watching. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
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Chapter 5

My name is Kate, and I have a secret I want to tell you. I'm in love with my best friend's grandfather. I know it's fucked up. He was my dad's friend. He basically watched me grow up. But I was, and I couldn't help it.

Every night when I go to bed, he's all I think about. Every touch, every time I use my vibrator, he's my motivation. I imagine him, his hands, his voice, his body over mine, and that makes me cum so hard my legs shake.

Even right now, I'm under my blanket, touching myself to a picture of him I googled online.

Enzo Forbes. The 52-year-old billionaire who runs Forbes Industries. He had my best friend's mom at 17, and Sophia, my best friend, was born when her mom was 16. Her mom's 34 now. Sophia and I both turned 18 about a month ago, and with age our sex drives are through the roof, but for me, no one but him turns me on.

"Kate? Can I come in?" Sophia's voice came from outside my room.

I quickly pulled my shorts up, even under the blanket, and sat upright, heart pounding. "Yes," I said, clearing my throat, trying to sound normal.

Sophia came in with a bright smile, carrying a tray of food. "You've been in bed all day. Are you feeling okay?" she asked kindly.

I smiled back. "Yeah, I'm good."

Sophia was so sweet, that's why I felt like shit for having these feelings about her grandfather.

"Just a little tired," I lied. She nodded, understanding.

Enzo's never been married. He and Sophia's grandma were high-school sweethearts, but it never went anywhere. He put everything into his career, that's why he's the richest man in Seattle. The way he carries himself, always so clean, so put-together... he doesn't even look 40. That makes him hotter to me.

"Brian and I are going to the beach," Sophia said. I nodded. "I know how you get after a long flight, so I'll let you sit this one out."

"Thank you."

She smiled, kissed my cheek, told me to eat, and left.

As soon as the door closed, I threw myself back on the bed and grabbed my phone to stare at his picture again.

What I would do to have him.

I was so in love with him that I came to Florida hoping, praying, there'd be a chance he'd look at me twice.

Sophia's the only active family he has, besides his daughter (who's coming this evening). They're throwing him a party tomorrow for his birthday. He loves golf and Florida is known for that.

I thought this party was my chance. Maybe with enough alcohol, he'd spare me a glance. I prepared: bought the sluttiest clothes I could find. When everyone's distracted, I'd have my shot to seduce him.

Brian's our friend, always the three of us, but I've noticed Brian and Sophia have feelings for each other, more than friends. I'm going to use that tonight.

I should have Enzo. At all costs.

I was drooling over his website photos when I heard a light knock.

"I didn't change my mind, Sophia. I'm not going," I said, she always did that.

"It's not Sophia. Can I come in?"

I jumped off the bed.

It was him. Enzo Forbes. The man I was plotting to seduce.

Last night when we arrived, I avoided him completely. I was terrified I'd do something stupid in front of him. But now... he was at my door, and I looked like absolute shit. Just out of bed, still in pajamas. Not sexy at all.

"Katherine?" he called. The way he says my full name always makes my heart race.

"I... not dressed," I said quickly, pacing.

"Well, get dressed then. I need your help." My brain short-circuited. He needed me. Before I could respond, the door opened and he stepped in.

He was already in a suit, tall, hair slicked back like a mafia boss, lips pressed tight, jaw sculpted sharp. When our eyes met, I melted. Those olive-green eyes were too intense, too perfect.

"You're not dressed?" he asked.

I snapped out of it and looked down: tiny sleep shorts, loose lazy shirt, messy hair over my shoulders, socks.

"I..." I almost said I meant not dressed for the day, like normal clothes, but then it hit, he heard 'not dressed' and still walked in.

That blew my mind. I slowly looked up at him, eyes widening. Did he hope to catch me naked? Did he want me the way I wanted him?

My nipples hardened under the thin shirt, no bra, and I felt a fresh rush of wetness between my legs just from him being in the room, staring.

"I know you're 18 now," he said.

"Y-yes." I sounded desperate.

"Be my date tonight."

I don't know if it was a question or a demand, but his tone, low, commanding, mixed with the words made my pussy clench. Nipples tight against the fabric.

He wanted me as his date? What were the odds.

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