At the end of our day, I retired to my room feeling good about myself. I got ready for bed, locked my bedroom door, and crawled underneath my covers. I would sleep well tonight without any interruptions, especially those of a s****l kind.
I woke in the middle of the night to discover Mitch sitting on the edge of my bed. His hand had found its way under the covers. He was stroking my legs. His hand was creeping towards my crotch when I grabbed it.
“How'd you get in here?” I demanded.
“This is my house. Locked doors mean nothing,” he chuckled.
“It did mean something,” I retorted. “It meant that I'm not f*****g my daughter's husband again.” Please be strong, I pleaded with myself.
“You don't really mean that do you,” he said as he slipped his c**k out of his pajamas.
“You're a monster,”
