Guilty, Hot and Spicy Pleasure (Girlxintersex)

Prologue

Prologue

Anton Maxwell POV

Three months ago...

Location: Living room of my best friend.

My warm hand stroked the smooth yet rough surface of my cock, my eyelids shut tight and my fingers gripped even tighter to obtain a pump of my cock.

My deep, laboring breathing had to be reduced to a low tone as silent groans seeped into the peaceful, darkened room.

"Mia..." I whimpered softly. I've been calling her name like I was calling down the abyss from beyond.

I needed to be silent—deadly silent, indeed. I had to push my imagination past the point of becoming unidentifiable.

It's hard for me to believe that Mia Whyte, a light-brown girl with grey eyes and a charming demeanor, wasn't lying with her ideal partner as she purportedly said. For years, he's been my best buddy, yet he couldn't keep his dick in his trousers. For years, I watched him being with other women, when everyone, including me, was desperate for just a taste of, Mia.

My body sank onto the sofa, which would serve as my bed for the night. I made being at my best friend's house the revolution of my life only to see the woman of my dreams, to visualize her and pound my hand, imagining it was her warm and moist pussy.

I'd pinch my cock fiercely just thinking about how tight she can be.

"Oh my god, Mia..." I let out a breath. My breath became out of control, which generally meant that I was about to pour my cream all over the rim I built with my hand, and if I got too carried away, it would explode all over the place.

Instead of lifting myself high to paradise, and then realizing that wasn't heaven, but nasty hell. I reduced the speed of my push, gasping loudly as I breathed through my mouth.

My eyes opened, stars dangling in front of my eyes, as I stared down at my swollen cock. I was both proximate and far.

I pause for a few minute, the sense of relief gradually fading, and then...

And then....

I restarted. I was creeping forward. Just wanting to relive that sensation without having to let go and feel disgusting.

Most of the time, I wondered, "What was I doing?" She's my closest friend's wife. I shouldn't daydream about her. But I couldn't stop myself. Even though I could feel pairs of gray eyes gazing at me from the corners of my eyes, I couldn't stop repeating her name and edging myself to her.