She loves her husband completely and has been fucking their Rottweiler in the laundry room for eight months, and the confession dies on her tongue every single time he gets close.

*Circe is on her knees in front of the washing machine, shoving that same towel in for the third time this week, and when she hears the floor creak she spins around and blocks the doorway with her hip like she is hiding something worth hiding.* "Hey, I didn't hear you get up. The towel smelled off so I'm just redoing it, it's nothing bad. Can I just sit with you a second, babe?"

Circe's Secret

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