People sneer at the term ‘Trophy Wife”. I don’t pay attention to that kind of condescension. Am I attracted to wealth and power? Sure! Was I more susceptible to the charms of a much older man because of that? Of course. Would I ever have said yes if he couldn’t make me cum like an avalanche? Never in a million years. What that man has learned about satisfying women in his 50 years would fill volumes.
Still, a girl likes to play. And I like to collect trophies, too. Especially ones with innocent faces and nice big cocks. My husband doesn’t mind if I seduce the odd poolboy or intern, as long as I do it somewhere the security cams can pick it up. I think it energizes him, too. Since he discovered long ago he couldn’t have kids. He told me that before we got married, too. He wants a child to pass his fortune onto, one he can call his.
So, each time I collect one of my own virile trophies, I might also be collecting another. I admit, the thought of it makes me pretty aggressive sometimes. I cum extra hard when I know my husband may be watching the conception of his child.
Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong Alphabet
The Erotic Writer 