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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 6

I know what you're thinking. Kate going with him is a bad idea. You just touched yourself to his photo a minute ago, what will you do standing this close to him? Well, I guess we're going to find out. I said yes immediately.

"Great. Put on a jersey. It's windy outside." He almost turned to leave when I stopped him and asked what he meant.

"Just that... the party is at four. It's still twelve." I bit my bottom lip and looked away. God, he was so hot.

"Yes, exactly. We don't have much time."

"Much time?"

"We need to make you look the part. A lot of my judgy friends will be there." He said it casually, then turned and walked away, leaving me gasping for air.

I rushed to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, brushed my teeth. I didn't have much time. I hurried downstairs.

"Where's your jersey?" he asked the second I reached him. He'd been waiting.

"I didn't bring any." Honest. Everything I packed barely covered my body.

Enzo didn't reply. He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. "It's a little cold outside." I slipped it on and followed him, drowning in his cologne. It hit me like a drug, woodsy, expensive, masculine. My clit tingled instantly, a sharp pulse between my legs.

Outside, his driver opened the door for me. Enzo slid in on the other side. He gave an address and the car pulled away. I sat rigid, thighs clamped tight together. Hearing him give orders in that low, calm voice was too hot. My pussy clenched just from the sound.

"So, how is school? Ready for your SATs?" he asked.

I cleared my throat. "Good. School is good."

He nodded and talked about his own school days. But I wasn't hearing words. I stared at his lips, full, firm, imagining them on my neck, sucking my nipples raw, buried between my legs. I bet they'd burn. I bet he'd leave me marked.

"...So?"

"Huh?" I snapped back. He'd asked something. His stare said he knew exactly where my mind was.

"What field are you going into at college?"

"Oh. I'm still deciding."

"We offer an internship here."

"I'm bad at numbers. I can't do finance." But the thought of being near him every day, watching him work, smelling him, maybe sneaking into his office, made my thighs squeeze harder.

"Of course." He nodded, reached for his phone, and the conversation died. Thank god. I turned to the window and finally breathed.

We arrived at a high-end salon. They dolled me up: hair washed, styled sleek and sexy. A stylist brought dresses. Enzo picked a red off-shoulder one, tight, low-cut, hugging every curve. When I stepped out of the fitting room, he looked me over slow.

"You look gorgeous." His voice dropped. "That's the dress." He told the stylist. She nodded. I went back to change, heart hammering.

When I came out, they were gone. I stepped outside, he was paying. We both got what we wanted.

The ride home was quiet. Weird. But we made it back. Sophia and Brian were already there.

"Where did you go?" Sophia asked. She was in her dress already.

"She escorted me to see my designer," Enzo said, stepping in. He'd taken a call outside. "I hope you don't mind, but Kate is going to be my date tonight."

Sophia looked suspicious but nodded. "Okay, um, get ready then. We have to get there before Mom."

Before I could speak, Enzo cut in. "I prefer we arrive together."

"Your grandmother and her husband are going to be there. I'd like to get on her nerves, just a little." Sophia nodded. Then Brian appeared in his suit. Sophia's eyes lit up. She waved quick and they left without looking back.

"Wow. Seems we have the house to ourselves again." I said it nervously, biting my lip.

"Appears so." He answered, coming toward me.

I stood behind the kitchen counter. I thought he was heading for the fridge. Until he stopped right behind me. His body heat hit my back like a wall.

"I can smell you," he whispered. My spine stiffened. "In the car, I smelled you-wet, needy" His voice dropped lower. His hand slid to my thigh-slow, deliberate. I was in tiny shorts. His fingers slipped under the hem in seconds, brushing bare skin.

"Um..." I bit my lip harder.

"Do you like my touch?" he asked. I didn't see why I should lie. I nodded. "I want to hear you say it, Katherine. Use your words." His breath burned against the back of my neck. "Say it."

"Yes." I closed my eyes. "I like it."

"How much do you like it?" His fingers hovered, not moving yet. My whole body ached for it. If my teeth weren't on my lip and I wasn't wide awake, I'd think this was one of my dirtiest delusions. "Tell me where you want me to touch you."

I reached back, grabbed his hand, and guided it down, straight to where I was soaked and throbbing.

"Right here?"

"Yes, Papa. Right there." I moaned loud as his fingers found my dripping pussy, slick, hot, ready. His other arm locked around my waist, pinning me against the counter. "Oh fuck!" I cried when he slid one thick finger inside, slow, stretching me, curling deep to hit that spot that made my knees buckle.

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