NOVEL WEB Chapter 519: My Wife Is Quite Sensitive
The door wasn't even fully closed before I stepped into the moment, Camila's rigid posture and the delivery girl's burning red face practically begging for my intervention—or, more accurately, my mischief. I slid up beside Camila, my hand settling firmly on her bare shoulder, the slight tremble of her body under my touch like music to my ears.
"Well, well..." I murmured, letting my voice carry a teasing weight as I glanced at the delivery woman. Her face was a masterpiece—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly in stunned silence. "You've met my wife, I see."
Camila stiffened under my hand, her head snapping toward me with a desperate, pleading look.
Oh, she wanted saving, alright, but not the kind I had in mind...The fire in her eyes only spurred me on.
"Apologies for her state." I said, squeezing her shoulder just enough to let her know she wasn't going anywhere. "You see, we've been having quite a bit of fun today. Haven't we, darling?" My gaze slid down to her blouse, clinging to her damp skin, and lower still, to the unmistakable wet stain marking her thighs.
Her face burnt so hot I could feel the heat radiating from her, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at me like she might explode, not expecting to turn on her at the moment. She wanted to scream, to throw something, but the delivery woman was watching—caught in this web I was spinning.
The girl clutched the box in her hands like a lifeline, her own face flushing deeper as her eyes flicked between us, unable to look away. She tried to keep her gaze level and professional, but it betrayed her. I could see where her focus wandered, the dart of her eyes down to Camila's soaked pants, then back up, as if to confirm what she'd seen.
"You'll have to forgive her." I continued saying, my voice as smooth as silk, carrying just enough teasing warmth to make it impossible to ignore. "Camila's always been quite sensitive. Sometimes it doesn't take much at all..." My other hand slid lower, casually, deliberately brushing down her side until it rested against her hip.
Camila's ears turned red, her body stiffening like a spring wound too tight. She turned her head toward me, her mortified eyes wide with disbelief, but I was far from done. The delivery girl stood frozen, her gaze darting between us, her red face betraying the fact that she couldn't stop herself from watching every movement.
"Like just now..." I added, letting my hand drift to the apex of Camila's thighs, the damp fabric of her pants clinging to her skin, unmistakably soaked.
And just like that, I gave her a gentle pat, right there, the wetness squelching audibly under the pressure.
Sploch~
The sound was obscene—a soft, wet sploch—and it echoed in the silent space between us. The delivery girl's eyes widened even further, her mouth parting in silent shock as the noise painted a vivid picture of exactly how compromised Camila was.
"She's such a mess...Truly she is." I said, the faintest hint of a chuckle under my breath as my fingers pressed lightly against the wet fabric again, eliciting another faint squelch. "See what I mean? She couldn't help herself."
Camila's entire body burnt against me, her head snapping toward me with a mix of fury and humiliation, but no words came out—just a trembling exhale. She was caught, her mind clearly racing for a way out, but there was none. Not now.
The delivery girl seemed to falter, her hands tightening around the box, her cheeks blazing as she stood rooted in place, too shocked—or too intrigued to move. Her gaze lingered on Camila's crotch, the wetness undeniable, and then darted back up to me, a silent question in her wide eyes.
I just smiled at her, my hand leaving Camila's thigh with an almost lazy, deliberate slowness. "And thank you for bringing this by, Miss." I said, my tone light, playful, as though nothing at all was amiss. "I'll get her cleaned up properly now. She's had quite the...eventful day."
I gave the delivery girl one last playful smile, the faintest glimmer of mischief in my eyes as I took the box from her trembling hands.
She was frozen in place, her face an exquisite shade of crimson, her lips parted as though she wanted to speak but couldn't summon the words. Her gaze darted between me, Camila's burning face, and the undeniable wetness marking her thighs.
"Well then..." I said, my tone unbothered, as though nothing was out of the ordinary. "Thank you for the delivery. We'll take it from here." My hand lingered on the edge of the door, deliberately slow, savoring the way her wide eyes followed even the smallest of my movements.
I then swung the door shut with a soft click, locking us back in our little world of chaos. But her world?...Oh, her world had just unraveled.
Outside the door, the delivery girl stood rooted to the spot, her mind reeling as everything she'd just witnessed replayed in vivid detail. The wet squelch of Camila's pants, the casual way I'd pressed against her, the sheer confidence of it all—it was overwhelming. Wrong. But also....Intoxicating.
Her body betrayed her. A warmth began pooling between her legs, a subtle dampness spreading against the fabric of her own panties. She stiffened in shock, her thighs clenching involuntarily as she felt the unmistakable beginnings of arousal creeping in.
"What the hell is wrong with me?!" She whispered to herself, her voice barely audible as the heat in her cheeks burnt even hotter.
She couldn't believe it—couldn't believe that something so lewd, so outrageous, had affected her like this. Her heart raced as she clutched her clipboard tighter, her fingers curling into the edges like they might anchor her sanity.
But it was no use. The image of Camila's soaked thighs and her trembling form, coupled with the way I'd so brazenly touched her, was seared into her mind. She felt a pulse between her legs, a soft throb of shameful need, and that was the final push she needed to break free.
She turned back in a frenzy and hurried back toward her van, her steps quick and uneven as though she were fleeing the scene of some unspeakable crime. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her thoughts a chaotic mix of embarrassment and disbelief.
"I'm so lewd!" She thought, her inner voice trembling as much as her hands were. "What kind of person gets turned on by something like that?" She shook her head, trying to clear the images, but they lingered, every detail sharp and vivid.
By the time she climbed into the driver's seat, her thighs were pressed tightly together, her panties damp against her heated skin. She dropped the clipboard onto the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she stared out the windscreen, trying to steady her breathing.
She didn't move for a long moment, her mind racing, her body betraying her in ways she couldn't ignore.
"I need to get out of here...O-Or else."
She muttered, finally starting the engine and pulling away, the events of the delivery burnt into her memory in a way that wouldn't fade anytime soon...