My wife's insatiable hunger: a private indulgence

In the dim, cozy confines of our study, my wife's voice, usually so poised and proper, drops to a sultry, husky whisper as she reads aloud from her favorite erotic novel. The scent of aged leather and her signature perfume fill the air as she describes, in vivid, graphic detail, the exploits of the novel's protagonist. Her eyes flutter closed, her breathing deepens, and I watch, entranced, as her hand, hidden beneath the desk, begins to move in rhythm with the story's explicit scenes. Her cheeks flush, her lips part, and I can almost taste her desire, her need for release growing with each turned page.

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• my

• Unknown