The crime scene: My partner sees where I’ve fucked another

Karen Moan | November 17, 2021
Category: EROTIC STORIES, Erotic stories with audio

Enjoy the erotic narrative of Karen Moan.

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Crime scene

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Narration: Karen Moan


I am writing to you 30 seconds after he has closed the hotel door. Am I really such a bug that I can’t wait any longer? I don’t know, a minute or two… well no, I can’t wait any longer to tell you, I’m looking forward to it.

“Hello, darling, you’re missing,” you answer sleepily at so many in the morning.

-Yes, love, it’s just that I was having lunch with a lover -He had disappeared all day, without more, without responding to a lot of messages from you.

A few seconds are heard without content, which can be anything.

“Oh, good, and how are you?”

The fucking beautiful thing about the matter is that you are really asking me from a curious and morbid place and that the fit, logically, of jealousy, has lasted that, seconds.

–Well, very very well, I soaked the bed the way you like it, I had a fabulous time… but now I miss you.

And if it wasn’t you who you are, you’d hate me. But no, you believe me because you know it’s true. That the more I fuck with others, the more I want you. I guess because even if I put the meat on the grill, you set the rules (non-existent), you watch me from a hidden camera (also non-existent), you and now I have decided that any game that involves a hotel with sheets soaked is part of our stage, whoever is on it. So you close your eyes while you make a groan, and in that time I understand a “Show me what happened.”

So I focus the camera on some undone sheets in which my exhausted body writhes. Because yes, I have fucked like a dwarf, I have stained the hotel bed (every time I do it I am torn between «Will they report me? Will they put me on the list of unwanted clients?» or «Idiot, everyone will does, why do you think these wonderful anonymous bedrooms were invented?” And yet, now, all soft, I just want you to come and lull me…

And you ask me to walk around the room to witness what walls or pictures or mirrors they saw me before, and then you ask me to walk the camera over the crime scene, from top to bottom, and while you give instructions as if nothing was with you, I feel how I get very very horny.

“Are you deciding if my fuck was good or…? What’s the matter? You don’t think I had a good time, why don’t you come and check it out? And you laugh deeply, knowing that everything, everything I’ve done today, has been for and for you.

Give me the address of that fucking hotel.



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The crime scene: My partner sees where I’ve fucked another


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