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The Double


An Erotic Story


By Kiki Wellington


Copyright © 2014 by Kiki Wellington. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.


The Double is a 5,900 word work of fiction by Kiki Wellington. All names, characters, and events are products of her libidinous imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.


From the Author:

ADULTS ONLY PLEASE. The Double contains sexually explicit material and adult language. This story is not appropriate for children and may be offensive to some readers.
























EXCERPT:


You filled my flushed cheek with warm kisses, stoking my fires with each touch of your mouth. Then you maneuvered your lips onto mine, continuing with your gentle movements. After brushing your lips against mine several times, you slowly cocked your head to the side and opened my mouth with your tongue. Our tongues danced a slow waltz in each other's mouths, and I felt your hands running up and down my back. I had my arms firmly wrapped around your neck, and took the opportunity to stroke the back of your head, your soft, freshly cut hair filling my palm.


You pulled away and whispered in my ear, "Jessica, would you like to go upstairs?"


I nodded. I don't know if you noticed it through our clothes, but my nipples had gotten hard up against your chest, and I was definitely excited for you to undress me and press your naked body up against mine.






























But First, a Word....


Thank you for taking the time to read this ebook. I adore writing erotic stories, and if you enjoy reading this even half as much as I did writing it, I'll be one happy horndog. May you get off and get a smile on your face...and other places!


With gratitude and mind-blowing orgasms,


Kiki Wellington

www.sexwithkiki.com































I should have known something wasn't quite right with you. You seemed more attentive, more loving than ever. The whole time we've been married, I don't think you'd ever paid as much attention to me or our relationship or anything that didn't have to do with yourself. Some days I wasn't even sure how or why we got together in the first place. I always loved you, you know that, and I wanted to believe that deep down inside somewhere you did love me too. Otherwise, why would you be with me? Why would you ask me to marry you? Why would you spend all these years with me if there wasn't something real between us?


That was the shred of hope that kept me going, that kept me from feeling completely hopeless about the relationship. Maria told me no less than a million times I should leave you. Every time she did, I kept telling myself that although my sister is usually right about most things, this is where she completely missed the mark. This was where, for the first time in my life, I was going to prove my sister wrong. I was going to make this marriage work come hell or high water, no matter what Maria said or my friends said...or you said. We got married for a reason, marriage is sacred, and that was the end of the story. Divorce just wasn't an option.


So when out of the blue you started paying more attention to me, I was elated. I thought my prayers had been answered, and I was finally going to get the marriage I deserved.


I remember the moment it started like it was yesterday: You came home from work with a "just because" gift—roses and a box of artisan chocolates from that place I like downtown. I was gobsmacked when I saw it. Getting you to buy something nice for me for Christmas or my birthday or Valentine's Day was usually like pulling teeth with you. Gift giving just wasn't your style. Doing things, even little things, just because you were thinking of me was never your modus operandi. So when you walked through the door with those gifts, it burned into my brain because of the sheer novelty of it.


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