NOVGO.NET Chapter 771: Ass That Owns the Night
Chapter 771: Ass That Owns the Night
I turned to Margaret.
My gaze started at her face those sharp green eyes, the wicked little smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing,, but it didn’t stay there long. It slid down, slow and shameless, drinking her in.
The white lace robe clung to her like a second, crueler skin. Sheer enough that the moonlight turned it translucent, revealing the heavy, perfect swell of her medium motherly tits, the dark shadow of her nipples pressing hard against the fabric like they were trying to tear free.
The same ones my mind could not forget seeing at the penthouse back in Miami.
Gods, that sight was legendary, but this too was insane.
The robe’s tie had loosened just enough for the front to part, flashing the flat, toned plane of her stomach, the diamond piercing in her navel catching the light like a wink.
Lower, the lace hem skimmed the tops of her thighs, riding up with every breath to show the soft, creamy skin above her stockings and the faint outline of the thong beneath—already soaked, the fabric molded to her swollen lips, the wet spot dark and obvious.
Her ass—Jesus Christ, her ass—was a masterpiece. Even when it pressed on the seat... round, high, the kind of curve that made men forget their own names. The robe hugged it like it was jealous, the lace stretching across the cheeks, dipping into the cleft just enough to tease what was hidden.
Every step she took later will definitely make it flex, bounce, jiggle in a way that felt designed to ruin lives, if she stood up.
I’d seen her naked in Miami. Ancient history.
Tonight, I wanted to worship.
Tonight, I was ready to take Margret and I knew she was no lonegr being held back by the incidents; she’d healed. And I knew she wanted me too, she’s been for more than weeks but I had been holding back; now?
I want you too Margret.
I looked at Amanda, Reyna, Priya—my loves—standing there in their own white-lace sins, bodies glowing under the moonlight like offerings.
"My loves," I said, voice low and warm, "I’m going to steal Margaret for a little while. We’re heading to the guest mansion to talk. You’re welcome to come if you want."
Amanda’s fingers were quick; she immediately tightened around Reyna’s wrist before the word "yes" could leave Reyna’s lips. Priya just gave me a small, knowing smile, dark eyes flicking between me and Margaret with quiet understanding.
She could tell by the time she spent here, the wet desires and fantasies that had sown residence in Margret’s mind with those lingering gazes she gave me, or how her eyes traced me when she thought no one was watching, especially Charlotte.
A lawyer saw a lot, did she not?
Amanda shook her head gently. "We’ll stay here."
Reyna blinked, confused for half a second, then her mouth formed a perfect, silent O as realization hit.
I smile was soft, grateful, turned back to Margaret, reached for her hand, and laced their fingers together.
"Shall we?"
Margaret’s nod was almost shy, but the heat in her eyes was anything but. She knew... and she’d been anticipating this moment for so long to play oblivious; not when both our realities and fantasies were about to meet and collide beautifully!
I tugged her gently forward, and they started walking.
She slipped her fingers into mine—warm, slightly trembling—and nodded.
We walked.
The path to the guest mansion was lit by low ground lights, the color of champagne, the gravel crunching softly under our bare feet. But all I could focus on was her back as she walked ahead of me just half a step.
The robe had slipped completely off one shoulder now, she did it so deliberately a taste for me before the main course; baring the elegant line of her spine, the dimples at the base glowing in the moonlight.
She let go of my hand, her fingers slipping from mine and she walked to the front so I could get a full view. I will say this again; milfs were the best. They knew what they wanted and how to serve it before and the teasing before the real thing.
Look at Margret for example. And I wasn’t needed to pretend I wasn’t enjoying it. I welcomed her gift!
Her ass swayed with every step—slow, hypnotic, the lace stretching and releasing over those perfect, round cheeks, the fabric riding higher with each movement until the lower curve peeked out, pale and smooth and begging for teeth marks.
The thong string disappeared between them, a thin white line swallowed by flesh that jiggled just enough to make my cock leak into my boxers. Every flex of her glutes was a silent promise, every bounce a threat.
I couldn’t get enough.
I wouldn’t get enough.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
The guest mansion loomed ahead—smaller than the main house, but still obscene in its luxury, all glass and dark wood and privacy.
Margaret glanced back over her shoulder, hair spilling across her bare skin, eyes dark with the same hunger that was currently trying to punch a hole through my jeans.
"Coming?" she asked, voice husky, lips curved in a smile that said she already knew the answer.
I stepped up behind her, hands settling on her hips, thumbs brushing the lace where it met skin.
****
The gravel bit into the soles of their bare feet, each step a small, sharp reminder of the world they were leaving behind. Margaret’s hand came and claimed his after she gave him enough tease, and stayed locked in his, her palm fever-hot, pulse racing against his skin like a trapped thing trying to break free.
She didn’t speak as they reached the door; she simply turned the handle and pulled him inside, the heavy oak closing behind them with a soft, final thud that sealed the night outside and locked them in her private universe.