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It was Sunday evening, the last vestiges of twilight fading from the window, replaced by the soft glow of my bedside lamp. Earlier that day, the afternoon had unfolded just as Sundays with Hudson used to: a quiet, intensely pleasurable time spent entwined in his bed, our bodies moving with a familiar rhythm of passion and tenderness. He had kissed me goodbye with a deep, lingering possessiveness that resonated through me for hours.

Now, as I braided my hair for the night, my phone buzzed. A text from Hudson. My heart gave a little jump, a familiar flutter of anticipation. "Another business trip coming up," it read. "Would you like to join me again?"

The words brought a rush of memories, an immediate and vivid recollection of our last business trip, the unexpected, explosive night that had redefined everything. The hotel room, the gradual unveiling of his sordid plan, the introduction of Alex, his colleague. The shock, embarrassment, and the initial reluctance that dissolved into a dizzying haze of pleasure and a strange, powerful sense of being truly desired. I recalled the burning friction of Hudson's dick pounding into me while Alex knelt before my face, his own cock slick with my saliva. The degradation, the insistent demands, the sensation of cum splattering my face and chest, then my ass. It had been raw, brutal, and completely beyond anything I could have ever imagined for myself.

Yet, thinking back on it now, it wasn't just the feeling of being used and exploited, though that undeniable current ran through the memory. There was also the exhilarating rush of feeling powerful, of holding the undivided attention of two men, of pushing boundaries I didn't even know I had. That night, something within me had shattered and reformed, leaving behind the timid girl I once was and revealing a woman capable of a desire and a defiance I never knew she possessed.

In the month since that trip, it had seemed to reignite the spark between Hudson and me. Before that night, things had grown distant, punctuated by him cancelling plans at the last minute. Our rendezvous at his house had become unpredictable, the sex a shadow of our initial passion, lacking the deep physical connection that felt like making love. I'd felt him losing interest, the emotional distance growing, and I, in my insecurity, had blamed myself, assuming my jealousy of his wife, Amy, had ruined everything.

But after watching me fuck another man, something changed. Our twice-weekly meetings resumed with a renewed intensity. Every Sunday and Tuesday, our time together was filled with passionate encounters, his eyes holding that raw desire I'd grown to crave. There were no more signs of him losing interest, no more polite distances. He was attentive and focused when we were together, each session a powerful reminder of his claim over me.

Without hesitation, my thumb flew across the screen. "I'd love to go on another trip," I texted back, the words mirroring the excitement bubbling within me.

A flicker of a thought crossed my mind: Does he just want to share me with another man again? On one level, a flicker of wariness, a pang of something akin to fear, settled in my gut. I worried that I was now required to entertain all of Hudson's requests, to push myself further and further into the unknown, or risk losing him. The thought of stepping back, of saying no, felt impossible, like severing the lifeline to this intoxicating new world he had opened for me.

But then, on another level, a potent thrill surged through me, eclipsing the apprehension. I didn't care. Or rather, I found that I craved it. That night had awakened something primal within me, a deep well of sexual desire and a hunger for validation that I hadn't known existed. Despite the lingering pangs of guilt and remorse about the innocent girl I once was and the constant lie I was living, I felt an undeniable excitement. The forbidden nature of it all, the risk, the raw pleasure, it was all too alluring to resist. I yearned for that sexual awakening, that feeling of uninhibited desire, to course through me again.

Later that week, just as I had before, I lied to my parents about staying with a friend to study, and they didn't suspect anything of their wholesome daughter. With a carefully packed overnight bag, I

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