Speaker 1: It's Thursday, September eighteenth, in time for your daily thought.
Speaker 1: The house is a masterpiece of modern architecture, all clean lines, glass,
Speaker 1: and a silence so profound that even it feels expensive. Julian,
Speaker 1: the real estate agent, glides through it, his polished shoes
Speaker 1: barely making a sound on the gleaming hardwood floors. It's
Speaker 1: reclaimed Brazilian walnut. His voice is a smooth, practiced melody,
Speaker 1: a very hard wood, extremely durable, and it holds its
Speaker 1: value for decades. I run my hand along a nearby countertop,
Speaker 1: my eyes on him. Oh, I just love hard wood.
Speaker 1: My voice is a low per but I'm not sure
Speaker 1: he's buying what I'm selling. It's a fantastic selling point.
Speaker 1: He's completely oblivious, a perfect smile plastered on his face.
Speaker 1: Shall we proceed to the master suite? He leads me
Speaker 1: down a long and possibly white hallway. Our footsteps the
Speaker 1: only sound. The sense of isolation is total, and with
Speaker 1: the master suite located in this wing, you're guaranteed absolute pridacy.
Speaker 1: He gestures to the long expanse of the corridor. You
Speaker 1: will be disturbed back here. That's good to know. I
Speaker 1: slow my pace a bit so even very loud moaning
Speaker 1: wouldn't be heard in the rest of the house. He stops,
Speaker 1: and for the first time, his professional mask slips. He
Speaker 1: turns to look at me, truly look at me, and
Speaker 1: a flicker of something that isn't related to his commission
Speaker 1: flashes in his eyes. He clears his throat. I suppose not.
Speaker 1: The insulation is state of the art. He's starting to
Speaker 1: get it. He opens the door to the master bedroom
Speaker 1: and I step inside. The room is vast, with a
Speaker 1: wall of glass looking the city. I immediately kick off
Speaker 1: my heels, my bare feet sinking into the thick, cream
Speaker 1: colored carpet. Wow. I curl my toes into the pile.
Speaker 1: The carpet is so soft. He seems, relieved to be
Speaker 1: back on script. Yes, feel how soft it is on
Speaker 1: your feet. I look up at him, a slow smile
Speaker 1: spreading across my face, and just as soft. When I'm
Speaker 1: on my hands and knees. He goes completely still. He
Speaker 1: knows exactly where this is going now. The power has
Speaker 1: shifted and the air is thick with it. He yes, Julian,
Speaker 1: for when someone's flucking me doggy style, no need for
Speaker 1: bruces knees. When you're getting pounded. I look at a
Speaker 1: Christine empty room. Actually, I'm not sure this carpet is
Speaker 1: soft enough. I think we should give out a try
Speaker 1: before he can form a coherent thought. Drop gracefully to
Speaker 1: all fours. The plush fibers are gootlsh tickle against my
Speaker 1: palms and knees. I look back at him over my shoulder,
Speaker 1: hook my thumbs under the hem of my dress and
Speaker 1: slowly pull it up over my ass, revealing that I'm
Speaker 1: not wearing any panties. His sharp intake of breath is
Speaker 1: the answer I was looking for. He closes the distance
Speaker 1: in three long strides, his composure completely shattered. I hear
Speaker 1: the rasp of his zipper, and then he's kneeling behind me,
Speaker 1: his hands gripping my hips with a force that betrays
Speaker 1: his desperate need. I feel the head of his cock,
Speaker 1: hard and hard nudge between my wet faults. He does
Speaker 1: n't hesitate. He shoves himself deep inside me with a
Speaker 1: single dominant thrust that drives a gasp from my lips.
Speaker 1: He feels me completely, A feeling is exquisite. He pulls
Speaker 1: back slowly and then thrusts again, fighting a hard, steady rhythm.
Speaker 1: The only sounds are the wet slap of our skin
Speaker 1: and my own panting breaths. The sunlight is warm on
Speaker 1: my back. I'm the view through the massive windows of
Speaker 1: the sprawling, indifferent city below. I'm on all fours like
Speaker 1: an animal in this temple of wealth and taste, and
Speaker 1: I've never felt more powerful. His thrusts become harder faster.
Speaker 1: I reach down, my finger's finding my clit as he
Speaker 1: pounds into me from behind. A combination is devastating. My
Speaker 1: fingers brush against his cock, and it pushes him over
Speaker 1: the edge. With a final guttural groan. He thrusts himself
Speaker 1: forward as I feel his hog come in, his throbbing
Speaker 1: cock inside me. My own orgasm builds like a wildfire.
Speaker 1: I struck my quit faster and faster, and I surrendered
Speaker 1: to it, my hips bucking back against him as the
Speaker 1: pleasure rifts through my body. I fall forward and he
Speaker 1: collapses beside me on the floor, breathless. I rolled over,
Speaker 1: a satisfied smile on my face. I stand, gather my
Speaker 1: things and smooth down my dress. He's still on the floor,
Speaker 1: trying to put his perfect world back together. Thank you
Speaker 1: for the t poor Julian, you were right. The carpet
Speaker 1: is perfect. He was selling a fantasy. He just had
Speaker 1: no idea. I was there to collect my own