Today I woke up and realized my favorite silk robe smells like him—his cologne, his sweat, his skin. I was so embarrassed when I spent my entire morning sniffing the collar like some kind of addict, but I couldn’t help it. It’s like my whole body is wired to crave him. I keep thinking about last night, when he pushed me against the wall in the hallway and fucked me from behind so hard I was sobbing. My pussy is still sore and swollen, and I can feel his cum leaking out of me every time I move. I know it’s wrong to want this so much—to want your own son to use your body until you’re a shaking, dripping mess—but I don’t care. I’m his. My womb, my mouth, my ass… everything belongs to him. I hope he comes home early today. I want to be on my knees before he even takes his shoes off.