Playboy's Secret Wife

alk o

ophi

tching my arms and feel a

e last night?" I ask Lena. "Did

I turn and shriek in horror. As I stumble b

o fast I feel lik

I see

mes to my mind. But that doesn't mat

you?" I yell at th

to hide the fact that his brunette curls fa

red as I realize I am literally flashing my breasts to a stranger in my room. I cover

re. Not his muscular

oused. I th

m n

he look

ave I s

the bar

ring hi

MY

I di

ure I

estion..." He says, and I com

ts caught under my feet and here I go... Flashing him

is left

ng any clothes under the sheets, apart from my thin thong. I am feeling expo

while sinc

xplain my re

ually, "I should ask y

my patienc

pick up the phone to call hotel security,

t brown eyes and those eyelash

room number?

at him,

e has a right to be an ass. Barging into so

s are always j

and a cheater. I thi

door from lift. 803 I guess." I a

his head i

tten so clearly at the door

n, the

y..."

ization da

round fr

o No

not ha

not my room. Apart from my clothes and my bra. Oh My God! My frea

age is

over the room from floor and run into

cking m

with him. I fucking hope we didn't have sex

ring my pantie

taking a million deep breaths

s bed, watching m

sorry! Why didn'

e, I tried

ther bed!" I cry. There must

d for this bed. I am no

. "Your husband will b

turn t

am married?" I am n

is perfect body, then says, "There is

muscular body. His boxer shorts hang dangerously low. My e

el security. They would hav

smi

uld want to

e

I glance at the door and

ave sex, But for me it