She reached for her laptop, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she pulled up the website for the club. She delved deeper into the smutty underbelly of the web, her clicks tracing a path from one black cock to another. She’d never seen anything like it—row after row of massive black cocks, thick and veiny, stretching across her husband’s screen. “Fuck, you taste good,” he murmured, before pushing her back onto the stage. Hard. “What would he say if it were me?” She turned the car around and headed home, her mind racing, her body aching with a need she’d never acknowledged before. She passed the seedy part of town, her eyes darting to the adult bookstores, her heart pounding. One evening, with Bill out of town for work, Kayla found herself standing in front of her closet, her heart pounding like a kick drum. She slipped out of her conservative clothing, her body bare and vulnerable.
