the unexpected, washed over me.
“Mr. Smith, L… I…”
I couldn’t explain the turmoil inside me. I
wanted to say no, but his gaze was
mesmerizing.
It had been so long since I’d been intimate
with anyone, not since before Leo was born. I
craved it, but we were both married.
The thought of David’s perfunctory
lovemaking flashed through my mind.
Compared to the passion in Mr. Smith’s eyes,
my body responded with a yearning I hadn’t
felt in months.
His warm breath tickled my ear.
“Sarah,” he whispered, his voice husky, “I
think you want this too. I know I do…”
He scooped me up and carried me towards
the bedroom.
“No, Mr. Smith, you’re mistaken!” I cried,
speaking faster than I ever had before.
<
не спискіied and nippied my eariope.
I shivered, biting my lip to suppress a moan.
He tossed me onto the bed, his large body
covering mine.
His hand slipped inside my blouse, his rough fingers exploring my sensitive skin.
A wave of pleasure washed over me, and I
squeezed my legs together, a soft moan
escaping my lips.
“Can’t take it already?” he whispered against
my ear.
His hot breath on my neck sent shivers down
my spine.
“Mr. Smith, please… please stop…” I pleaded weakly, the last vestiges of resistance
crumbling.
He nuzzled my neck, his teeth grazing my
skin, sending another wave of tremors
through me.
I moaned again, the sound undeniably
<
He nuzzled my neck, his teeth grazing my
skin, sending another wave of tremors
through me.
I moaned again, the sound undeniably
seductive.
His hardness pressed against me, and the
scent of his cologne filled my senses. I was
lost in the moment.
“You’re wet, Sarah,” he murmured, his hand
sliding beneath my skirt, finding my heat.
I gasped, my body arching involuntarily.
“Mr. Smith, you can’t…” I whimpered, tears
welling in my eyes. “Please, don’t…”
I wanted to kick him, to run, but his legs
pinned mine.
His lips found my center, sucking, drawing me
in…
I squeezed my eyes shut, shame burning
through me. “David, I’m so sorry. I didn’t
mean for this to happen,” I whispered to
<
But my body wasn’t sorry. Every nerve ending
tingled, electric with pleasure.
“Don’t worry, Sarah,” Mr. Smith murmured, his tongue swirling around my hardened
nipple. “I’m just hungry. I won’t do anything
you don’t want me to.”
Each flick of his tongue sent shivers through
- me. I moaned, surprised by how quickly I
responded.
But the wetness between my legs told a
different story. My body screamed for more.
His hand caressed my waist, each touch
igniting a fire within me.
“Mr. Smith…” I tried to protest, but his mouth
silenced me.
Torn between guilt and desire, I surrendered.
The doorbell rang, jolting me back to reality.
“Mr. Smith, your wife is home!”
Panicked, I pushed him away, my heart
pounding. I clutched my blouse, terrified he’d
く
He frowned, a flicker of disappointment in his
eyes, then got up and left the room, leaving
me trembling and ashamed.
“Honey, what are you doing back?” Mr.
Smith’s voice echoed from the hallway.
I scrambled to fix my clothes and hurried to
the front door.
I froze when I saw his wife. I’d never seen
anyone so stunning, especially after just
having a baby.
–
She was a classic American beauty perfect
features, a curvy but toned figure, and an air
of effortless elegance.
Her designer dress hugged her curves,
emphasizing her full breasts, drawing my
gaze. She definitely had milk, I thought
enviously.
I gulped, glancing at Mr. Smith. Why would he
stray with a wife like this?
What had he seen in me? I was pretty, but I
couldn’t compete with her.
“Honey, this is Sarah Miller, our new wet
nurse. Just call her Sarah,” Mr. Smith said,
introducing me.
He turned to me. “Sarah, this is my wife,
Amanda.”
Amanda’s eyes lingered on my chest, making
me squirm. She smiled.
“Nice. Very nice.”
She circled me, her gaze assessing.
I blushed under her scrutiny.
“I forgot something. I’ll be right back,‘
Amanda told Mr. Smith, then headed towards
the nursery.
“I’ll check on the baby. We’ll talk later,” he
replied.
I watched Amanda peek into the nursery. She
smiled at the sleeping baby, a drop of milk on
his lip, and quietly closed the door.
“Sarah, thank you so much! He hasn’t slept
that well in ages,” Amanda gushed, her eyes
sparkling with gratitude.
I looked at her, a knot forming in my stomach.
“I’m very happy with you. Same time
tomorrow?”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but she
continued, “Actually, could you come twice a
day? We’ll cover your travel expenses, same
rate.”
She turned to Mr. Smith. “Did you pay her for today?”
“Yes, dear,” he replied, glancing at me with a
gentle smile.
His gaze made my skin crawl. He looked
gentle, but I saw him for what he was: a
predator.
I wanted to tell Amanda everything, but fear
kept me silent. I agreed to come back, but I
knew I wouldn’t.
That night, after feeding Leo, I took a long
L
When I returned to the bedroom, David was
sprawled on the bed, snoring, his belly
hanging out. He farted loudly.
This was the man I married.
I sighed. Mr. Smith was so elegant, charming,
with that amazing body…
My cheeks flushed as I remembered the
afternoon’s encounter.
“Sarah, snap out of it! You can’t think like
that,” I scolded myself, slapping my cheeks.
David might be lacking in the bedroom and
less attentive than before, but he was a good
man in other ways. I couldn’t betray him just
for physical gratification.
I pushed the thoughts away and fell asleep.
But my sleep was restless. I dreamt of Mr.
Smith in tight underwear, his muscles rippling.
“Sarah, I’m hungry,” he whispered.
I gazed at his abs, my hand reaching out to
touch them.
He buried his head in my cleavage, and I held
him close, my eyes fluttering shut, listening to
him suckle.
The dream escalated, becoming hot and
heavy…
I woke up to Leo’s cries, my panties soaked. I
cringed, disgusted with myself.
I looked at my son and thought of David, of
our life together. I decided I wouldn’t go back
to Mr. Smith’s, no matter how much money
he offered.
Around noon, Amanda texted: “Sarah, when
are you coming this morning?”
I stared at the message. Wasn’t she
supposed to be out of town?
I hesitated, unsure how to reply. Then, my
phone buzzed again.
A video of the baby crying. He refused his
formula, his face red and blotchy. It broke my
heart.
<
I couldn’t stand to see him like that.
Motherhood had made me a softie.
I caved.
Amanda might look the part, but she clearly
wasn’t producing enough milk.
I figured with Amanda home, Mr. Smith
wouldn’t try anything.
I quickly got ready, left Leo with my mother-
in–law, and called a cab.
This time, I wore a high–necked top and a
cardigan, trying to cover up as much as
possible. But even then, my breasts were
prominent.
I looked in the mirror. I almost looked more
enticing than yesterday…
I texted Amanda: “On my way. Be there
soon.‘
وو
But when I arrived, Amanda wasn’t there.
Only Mr. Smith.
He wore the same tailored shirt, the top two
<
buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his
chest.
I swallowed hard, my heart fluttering.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sarah,” I muttered to
myself.
But being alone with him made me nervous.
I stood awkwardly at the door, unsure what to
- do.
Then, the baby started crying again.
“What are you waiting for? He’s hungry,” Mr.
Smith said, taking my hand and leading me to
the nursery.
I couldn’t refuse the crying baby.
“I’ll be in the living room,” Mr. Smith said as I
picked up the baby.
For a moment, I almost forgot what had
happened yesterday.
The baby finished feeding and fell asleep.
I quietly closed the door and found Mr. Smith
lounging on the couch, smoking a cigarette.
L
“Where’s Amanda?” I asked.
“Business trip. She’ll be gone for a couple of
weeks.”
My heart sank.
He gestured for me to sit down. He wanted to
talk.
Today, he wasn’t staring at my breasts. He
was polite, almost formal.
I felt a strange pang of disappointment.
What was wrong with me?
I blushed, mentally scolding myself.
“I apologize for yesterday,” he said sincerely.
His apology surprised me. I waved it off.
“There’s a reason … prefer breast milk,” he
continued, putting out his cigarette.
A reason? I almost rolled my eyes.
“A few years ago, when I was starting my
business, I worked myself to the bone. I was
constantly entertaining clients, drinking way
too much.
دو
He glanced at my covered chest and licked
his lips.
I instinctively clutched my cardigan, grateful
for its coverage. But my hand brushed
against my nipple, sending a jolt of
awareness through me.
I tried to remain composed, but my blush
betrayed me.
He noticed, but didn’t comment, earning him
another point in my book.
“It wrecked my stomach. I’ve seen countless
doctors, but nothing seems to help.”
He sighed. “Then, a holistic doctor suggested
breast milk. Apparently, it contains
compounds that can heal the gut.
وو
He looked at me pleadingly. “Sarah, please.
Just think of it as medicine. Help me.
وو
His expression was pained, and I hesitated.
I didn’t want to cheat on David, to risk my
marriage, my family.
<
“Sarah, I promise, I won’t make any
advances. Yesterday won’t happen again. I
just want to get better. My stomach has been
killing me. Just take pity on me.”
“I’ll compensate you generously. $300, or
more if you’d like.”
His vulnerability was disarming. I wavered,
then gave in.
“Okay,” I said softly. “But you can’t… touch
me.”
He frowned. “How am I supposed to drink
it?”
“I’ll pump into a bottle. You can warm it up,” I
mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
The thought of a grown man drinking my milk
was strange.
But the thought of this man drinking my milk
sent a thrill through me.
Seeing my resolve, he nodded. “Alright. Could you pump a lot, please?”
L
sent a thrill through me.
Seeing my resolve, he nodded. “Alright. Could
you pump a lot, please?”
His eyes remained fixed on my chest.
Each look sent shivers down my spine.
His gaze was predatory, reminding me of a
hungry wolf.
I squeezed my legs together, the familiar
warmth spreading through me. My mind
flashed back to yesterday, to his touch, his
mouth…
For the next few days, I pumped into a glass
bottle, and Mr. Smith drank it warm. I’d pump
extra and store it in the fridge for his
nighttime stomach pains.
He kept his word, behaving like a perfect
