xxx | philophobia

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JACE

WHAT THE FUCK?

What the actual fucking fuck?

As we anticipated the meeting I completely forgot about while being buried in my wife's pussy, I stared at her, anger simmering through me at the sight of her looking down at her phone, acting like nothing happened.

After Van informed us about our upcoming visitor, she got off the desk, bending over to retrieve her dress from the floor.

I was livid, but I still wanted to fuck her again while she was bent over. I stayed quiet as the two of us got dressed, but the anger I felt only increased after seeing how indifferent she was acting.

Her face, normally riddled with emotions, was completely stoic, pissing me off further.

I know she said 'no feelings'. And, for her, I could do it. But, this was more than just 'no feelings'. At first, when she moved away from my attempt to kiss those lips I spent a concerning amount of time thinking of, it was okay.

Kissing on the mouth was too intimate for people and that was fine.

Then, she did a complete one-eighty from having fun during sex to acting like I was a random guy she decided to fuck in a club. Hell, she was probably nicer to them too.

Fuck. I was getting jealous over a fucking random guy that I just made up. She fucked with my brain too much for it to be considered healthy.

It didn't help that the sex was amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing. There was not a single inch of her body that didn't deserve to be utterly worshiped. The little moans she let out when I was in her were addicting.

She was addicting.

I've never been the type of person to get hooked on something. I learned about control from a young age, considering my single mother and humble upbringing. We couldn't afford everything growing up, so I did everything in moderation.

Then, when I reached the legal age for drinking and drugs, I avoided it by saving the money I would've spent on it instead. There were times when I would go out with friends and have a few sips of beer, but I was always in complete control.

When it came to her, I didn't want to do anything in moderation.

Now that I know what she feels like, I wanted to spend every minute of every day buried inside her.

And I knew I could without developing any feelings.

Well, not that I'd tell her, but I was pretty sure I could without developing feelings.

In all honesty, that was the only time I have ever fully enjoyed sex in my life. As infuriating as she was, her presence, personality, and attitude were more addicting than the taste of her. I couldn't recall the last time I laughed so freely in the presence of a woman, other than Van and my mom.

What sucked the most was how I knew for a fact that she was also enjoying it. When she shot me that smile with her head between my thighs, I swear I couldn't breathe for a second.

She was so damn beautiful.

Besides last week when she avoided me, I had a feeling we were becoming... something. Whatever type of relationship you could have where the two parties didn't have any feelings for each other.

Now, I wanted to strangle her.

How could she walk into my office, wearing that, seducing me like the vixen she is, joking with me while we couldn't keep our hands off of each other, only for her to act so stoic?

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