Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hailey remembered a time when she wasn’t like this. A time when she wasn’t so pathetically needy for his touch. His affection. His jizz. Anything.
Back then she was independent and ambitious. Her apartment was filled with awards and degrees, and her closet was mostly suits and respectable gym outfits.
Now Hailey prattled around his house in ditzy and revealing outfits, perfecting her makeup skills and hip sways and deep throating. Often she’d just get stoned and lay out by the pool while lightly touching herself — anything to pass the time until her master, erm, hubby got home.
Sometimes Hailey would jog around the neighborhood and time it specifically so that she would run past the nearby high school when the boys sports teams were out practicing. Then later she’d tell her husband about how they all checked her out, and then he’d spank for her being so naughty.
That was one of her favorite ways to get his attention. Anything to hear him call her “Good Girl” or “My Sweet Blondie” or “Adorable Little Wifey.”
Anything.