Three Days Later.
The red marks are gone. My p***y is weak, but has stopped leaking. My ass is still recovering.
I sit on the couch, clutching a cup of coffee in my hand. Thankfully, I came home after that night to a letter from Ambrose stating he is on a short impromptu trip and will be back soon.
It gave my body time to heal. For three straight days, I’ve tried to walk away from the taunting memories of that night.
Tried to be the good wife I was.
The bedroom is sparkling clean and so is the whole house. I spend my time cleaning to get my mind off things.
The warmth from the coffee mug spread along my belly, reminding me of how I was in heat for the notorious brothers while they took turn to wreck my cunt. I take a sip, letting the hot fluid burn my parched throat.
The images
