I Am Lilly Rose: This is My Story - Sex Stories

I Am Lilly Rose: This is My Story

... walked as silently as I could back to my room. I crawled into bed; my sex wet under my nightgown. It would have to be washed in the morning since I used it to sop up my excitement. My mind was crowded with sexual images, but my heart was chilled by fear. He had seen me, and I could not face him the next morning. My alarm clock went off as usual at 6 AM. I had slept fitfully and dreamed images of men and women entwined in each other's arms, making love and sucking each others privates. I was groggy from lack of restful sleep. I hated to get up, to face him. The children had to be attended to and my wish to remain in bed, feigning sickness, was not to be. I splashed cold water on my face, placed my wrap around me and donned slippers. Walking to the head of the stairs I paused to listen for signs of movement from his room but all was quiet. I went down and entered the tiny kitchen. When I switched on the light, I saw a piece of paper on the table. Picking it up I read: Dear Lilly I must leave early today because I have a train to catch. I will return Friday. There is extra money here for groceries and to pay the gas bill. Please take care of those items, for me. Give my little girls hugs and kisses from their Papa, With my love, Otto I was relieved but also stunned. He had never signed a note 'With my love' before; nor had he ever used his given name. My face flushed though I was alone with no one to see it. What did it mean? No mention of our moment of lust last night. What in ...

... God's Name had I done? How could he allow me, a sexual deviant woman, tend to his precious girls? In my mind, I wished so hard that I had locked the bathroom door. Or did I? My passion had been steadily filling me with a need, the need of him, but I had not wanted to believe it. 'Nice girls' didn't do that. But, I knew I was anything but nice. As I stood with the note in my hand I could feel my thighs become warm again, my knees bent slightly as I spread my legs and reached up under my nightgown. My sex was dripping again. I held onto the edge of the kitchen table and excitedly fingered myself, my vagina, and clit. My bush was soaked; I had to taste myself. I jammed three fingers in as far as they would go, withdrew them and carefully held them to lose not one precious drop of me. I raised them to my mouth and slid them in as I would take his cock if he offered it to me. Salty, pungent, my creation for him in my mind, to give to him again and again. I heard the girls coming down the stairs, running and giggling with glee as they always did in the morning. Quickly I wiped my hand on my gown, straightened up and went to the stove, pretending to light it as Gerta and Ingrid ran up behind me and hugged me. I felt so depraved, so dirty! His little girls almost caught me masturbating. I must leave here, was all I could think. I must go before I hurt them. In unison they cried out, "Pancakes! Pancakes, please Lilly, pretty, please?" "Oh, you little rascals. What if I said you had to ...