His Second Wife by Favor V April

~Christopher’s POV~
I was still standing there, staring at the time. I was at a loss as to which room to search for her. Damn! It was infuriating to have
such a large house with so many rooms. I double-checked the time; it was now 11 p.m. Then I heard the door open, revealing
my wife, dressed in an extremely short dress. She appeared to be rather seductive, but that was far too much for a married
woman. I could tell she was drunk by the way she was walking. I knew she wouldn’t make it upstairs when I saw her trying to
close the door. I made a hasty descent down the stairwell. I cradled her, my gaze fixed on her face. I could see she had
consumed a large amount of alcohol.
“Why did you have to drink so much, Camille?”
She simply gave me a contemptuous glance. Then she started vomiting on me.
Fuck!
I took her into our room and immediately went to the bathroom to bathe and moisturize her. I went to the closet to find her
something to wear, but she had already removed all of her clothing and belongings from our room. As a result, I settled for my
shirt. I know that my wife is in distress, and I’m not expecting things to improve between us, but recent events have exceeded my
expectations. I wasn’t expecting to bathe her again. I wasn’t expecting her figure to be quite that seductive. I’ve seen her naked
many times before.
What am I saying? The girl is rarely dressed.
This caught me completely by surprise today. My body was at an instantaneous level of arousal. I wish I could get into bed and
sleep, but I am unable to do so in this state. I’m human, and I make mistakes, but I’ve never taken advantage of a woman. I
know that I am a jerk, yet I retain some self-control.
My wife is a self-contained entity who causes me to question everything I’ve ever believed. I’m madly in love with her. Yes, you
heard right, but I am incapable of having her or telling a 22-year-old that I love her. She is far too immature. Before I go to sleep,
I need to calm my body. I leaned against the wall, awaiting the quenching of the fire in my veins to calm down. No woman has
ever had such an effect on me. Don’t get me wrong, I can be hard, but Camille’s ability to make me hard is much beyond my
comprehension. When my tiny dick, as she calls it, was now in check. Well, I know I don’t have a tiny dick, but hearing my wife
say it hurts, makes me question if all these small lads have larger cocks than mine.
Why is it that she constantly manages to make me doubt myself?

I brushed it aside and crawled to bed. We slept in our own bedroom, as a husband and wife should. Even though we are not
sleeping together, of course, I’m talking about fucking, having her here in my arms felt amazing. It’s the place where she
belongs. But then, of course, I can’t tell her that.
The following morning, she awoke and turned to see herself in my arms. She was only wearing my shirt, and my hands were
wrapped around her waist, and now we were facing one another as if we were engaged in a battle for supremacy. We met one
other’s gaze without grimacing. This girl makes me wonder if the ladies who are perpetually submitting to me are faking it.
Camille is as solid as a rock. No matter how much water you pour on it, the water will evaporate, but the rock will remain. I mean,
look at me. I am handsome and sexy and I know it, yet my abs and face are irrelevant to this girl.
Has she seen any males in this world who are better than me?
No way, I won’t believe it. I broke eye contact because I was certain she would not relinquish her position.
“I wish you a pleasant morning, wife,” I said with a smile, trying to annoy her even worse. She looked at me, and she scoffed,
“Camille, good morning.”
I know she’s ignoring me, but I enjoy aggravating her as well. She rose from the bed and made her way to the door. I made my
way to the front door and shoved her little body against the wall while I closed the door.
“Listen, woman, in this house, we talk, no matter what. You are my wife Camille.” I said, looking at her straight in the eye. I will
fucking enjoy toying with her. I registered for my position and I cursed myself for what I had done. I had completely forgotten that
she was not wearing any panties or even a bra. Her small delectable pussy was outside for me to see but not to devour.
Fuck!
I could feel the enlargement of my member from within, this traitor of a cock doesn’t suit me, trust me. It betrays me each time
Camille is next to me.
Fuck!
She grinned. There was no way I could concentrate on Camille in this state. She knew what she was doing, hence she smiled. I
yanked her away from my grip. She shook her head mockingly as she stared at my now-hard member making a tent of its own
under my pants. She stepped towards the door and flung her shirt up, showing me a full view of her sinful ass that I could only
watch but not devour. She then walked away from the door. I screamed,

“Camille!”
I grumbled, but she simply turned around and gave me the middle finger before shutting the door. I looked at my now hard cock.
Dammit, she is... Fuck Chris, no don’t think about it! I cursed myself for even thinking of what I would do to Camille if ever I was
balls deep in her. Fuck Stop it!
Is this young lady aware of the effect she has on me? Is she aware of how much she is straining my patience for the test?
Fuck!
I had no chance of surviving the day. I dashed into the bathroom and immediately began riding solo. I cursed the day I asked
Mary to take Camille into my room. It was a big mistake, a fucking mistake. I did this to myself. Finally, I exploded into a mind-
blowing orgasm. My gaze shifted to the door, where Camille stood waving at me.
“What the fuck, Camille?”
She turned on her heels and lifted her shirt once again and started swaying her sinful ass. She then turned, her gaze falling on
my member, eyeing me from head to toe. I knew my member wouldn’t survive that blow, it was going to be hard again and so I
started riding solo all over again. Fuck, why does her ass seem to affect me this much? What will she actually....Stop it!
The whole Christopher Grayston was turned on by a little girl who made him ride solo. I’m screwed. I’m doomed!
I showered and dressed, then descended the stairwell to find Mary setting the table for breakfast. I took a seat to have breakfast.
Camille and Liam were absent from the breakfast table. Then I noticed my ex-wife making her way down the stairs.
Why is this woman still in this place? What didn’t she get right this time? I’m not marrying her, NEVER, not in this life ever again,
not even the next life, and 7 more lives to come.
When I’m frustrated, she’s the only person I can fuck. With Camille’s threats, I don’t think that will happen again. Let her stay,
though. Then I noticed my wife and son descending the stairwell.
Why is Camille dressed so extravagantly? Where is she going wearing such kinds of attire? How am I going to concentrate at
work knowing that everyone will be staring at my wife?
I could see jealousy written all over my ex-wife when I was staring at Camille. To my knowledge, this woman has never worked.
All she did was pretend to be my wife and secretly sleep with him. That was her obligation. Camille is a young woman with an

abundance of intelligence. She is self-employed. She never takes a look at the money I always deposit in her account. The most
recent instance was when she purchased materials. She hasn’t touched a penny since. During my marriage to this one, I
chuckled under my breath. She used to fritter away my money trying to fit in, purchasing cards to join the social wife club, while
Claudia is all about status and costly cars and clothing. This woman is completely devoid of intelligence. My little wife is career-
driven, and she doesn’t have time for several things.
“Can you tell me where you’re going?”
I was perfectly aware that she would not respond.
“Mommy said that she now has an office, and she is going to her new office.” My little boy answered.
At the very least, my son responded. I’m beginning to believe that the workplace concept was a huge mistake. If she is going to
dress like that every day, I’d have to persuade Robin to pay someone to monitor and report on her every move. Unlike her, she
puts food in exclusively for herself and Liam. I serve myself. She was not looking at anyone; she was simply eating and staring at
the one thing that made her day brighter; her son, not me, the man-whore she hates.
“So, are you going to wear that to work?” I noticed her clutching her fork tightly and then staring attentively at her plate, and I was
certain she was trying to control her temper.
“Are you done eating Mi Cielito?”
“Yes, mommy,” Liam replied.
“Good, I think it’s time we get going.”
I glanced at her as she swayed her beautiful ass as she moved toward the door, holding Liam’s bag and his hand in hers. My
gaze was drawn to Claudia. This woman was without remorse. Another woman is doing an excellent job as a mother to her son,
and she has no reservations about it.
Why am I allowing this callous woman to stay in my home?