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Chapter 42
by
Kristobal
Does she make it home?
Yes
Emily pulled into the driveway, hands white-knuckled on the wheel, thighs still tacky with the mess between her legs. The seat beneath her was damp. Her shirt clung to her chest, her nipples still tingling, overstimulated, and her head was still a wreck.
Jason’s car wasn’t there.
Of course not.
He hadn’t come home last night. Probably wouldn’t tonight either.
But the house wasn’t empty.
Tasha’s car was in the driveway.
She hesitated. A deep breath. Then got out, adjusting her skirt over sticky thighs, trying to remember how to walk like she hadn’t been deep-fucked less than an hour ago and was still leaking from it.
Inside, the sound of soft music and baby coos filtered in.
Tasha was in the living room, bouncing Chloe gently on her hip, bottle in one hand, casual, effortless. She looked up—and stopped.
Her eyes did a full sweep. Not subtle.
The flush.
The cling of Emily’s blouse.
The braless nipples sharp against the fabric.
The slight shine on her inner thighs.
The tension in her walk.
The ruined stockings.
And then Tasha smirked.
“Well… damn.”
Emily froze in the doorway.
Her mouth opened, then closed again. She was still warm, still buzzing, and the look on Tasha’s face hit something dangerous—something that made her cheeks burn hotter.
She stammered.
Tasha waited.
Emily finally cleared her throat, stepped a little deeper into the room.
“If I told you something...” she said softly, "...would you keep it from Jason?”
Tasha didn’t even blink.
“Absolutely.”
Emily blinked. “Just like that?”
Tasha smirked. “It’s not just because I think you’re hot. Though...” She gestured lazily at Emily’s barely-held-together state—disheveled, flushed, legs still pressed a little too close.
“I mean. Come on.”
She rocked Chloe once, then leaned in just a little, voice lower, eyes sharper.
“Jason’s kind of a douche. You deserve better. And if you need help... covering for better? Or maybe looking for better…”
She licked her lips, slow and deliberate, and didn’t look away.
Chloe gurgled.
Emily’s chest rose and fell.
And Tasha?
Tasha just smiled. Like she already knew.
Do they talk?
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Ripe for the Taking
A new mom discovers she's never been more desirable—and temptation is everywhere.
At 27, Emily Davenport is a new mother adjusting to life after childbirth—a fading marriage, a body still healing, and a routine that leaves her feeling invisible. But as she steps back into the world—work, the gym, errands—she begins to notice it: the looks, the lingering stares, the heat behind every casual touch. Men are watching her. And one by one, they make their move. Ripe for the Taking follows Emily’s slow-burn descent into temptation, where every choice—whether to resist or surrender—leads her deeper into the thrill of being wanted again. Mother. Wife. Woman. Now, she has to choose who she really wants to be.
Updated on Oct 25, 2025
by Kristobal
Created on Sep 25, 2025
by Kristobal
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