Page 4 of A Stolen Christmas

I didn't feel guilty for drugging her because her world would soon change, and she may not sleep so well for a while. I imagined every scenario possible in the event of her break-up, but she might surprise me and do something crazy. In my favourite scenario, she kills Ryan, and I fuck her while she has his blood spatter all over her.

This was my ultimate fantasy, but my girl was precise in everything she did. The thought of her committing murder without a carefully crafted plan would be impossible. I hated to admit it, but at times, she reminded me of Seth, grounded, cautious, and anal.

The woman had a spreadsheet for everything on her laptop. If they had a joint bank account, she would have caught her cheating husband a long time ago. Additionally, I searched every electronic device she owned, and she didn't have a single nude picture.

In this day and age, was that normal?

I had an extensive following on my social media accounts. I put that down to being highly photogenic, along with an outgoing personality. Or it could be all my strategically tented-out sweatpants and shorts with my top lifted to show the happy trail to my goods. The entire greater London area knew what my dick looked like by now. Seth had all his accounts set to private and hardly posted anything. It was hard to believe that he was my identical twin, let alone blood-related to me.

I peeled the thin straps down her shoulders and eased her vest down until her naked breasts were on show. My semi-hard cock stiffened, and I licked my lips before I glanced at her face, but she was still knocked out. The temptation was too great, and once I broke them up, I wouldn't get this opportunity for weeks, if not months.

My balaclava would get in the way, so I removed it before I pushed my trainers off and climbed on the bed. It gave me some satisfaction knowing that I was onhisside of the bed. I knelt before her and kissed her soft flesh before I covered her nipple with my mouth.

My dick had little patience and began to ooze out precum while I gently massaged Sirah’s breasts. Part of me wanted to bite into her tender flesh and leave my mark. I reached down and slid my sweatpants and underwear down so I could grip my cock. While I licked and sucked on her hardening nipples, I tugged on my dick like a desperate teenager.

It wasn't long until I was reaching for the glass. I wanked harder to squeeze more precum out before I rubbed it along her plump full lips. Enough light came in through the hallway for me to see her damp lips. I wished it was her tight cunt squeezing my dick and not my hand.

That was enough to make me erupt, and I watched my cum splash into the glass, hitting the side, but before it dripped down to the bottom, another spurt of cum shot out. As pleasurable as it was to wank over her in reality versus photos and my vivid imagination, my swift orgasm barely took the edge off. I wiped the tip of my dick over the glass before I lifted the glass to inspect the contents. I would be here for a while if I wanted to taint her toiletries effectively.

This might become a new Winthorpe tradition in my house.

Chapter 3

Sirah

September

Ryan kissed my shoulder as I put my earrings on. We were taking his Mum out for her birthday. Irene couldn't stand me. She was caught out giving me daggers in so many of our wedding photos. Several friends and family members mentioned her poor attitude throughout the day.

I had no idea what her problem was. At first, I thought she was racist, but the more I got to know her, I discovered that no woman was good enough for her son, irrespective of colour. Her possessiveness over him was unnatural, but Ryan always put it down to her becoming a widow when he was in his late teens.

“Thanks for organising everything. You know I've been working extra hours to try and get ahead for this new senior management vacancy,” he said as his fingers edged up towards my cleavage.

His work as a customer relations manager in investments for a major bank was well paid, but his next step would increase his salary considerably. We worked in different parts of the city district, but that was where the money was. Everything in London was ultra-expensive, and we needed every advantage available to us.

My pay had doubled since starting my initial graduate programme role. I was the go-between in setting up company pension schemes. I started in the insurance side of the business but soon got bored. Investments was where the money was. It wasn't the most exciting role, but I loved the challenge of tailoring our pension products to accommodate the client’s requirements.

I sighed as I thought about Irene's impending barrage of complaints tonight. My daydreams often revolved around me snapping one day and telling the woman what I honestly thought of her despicable behaviour.

∞∞∞

I was paying the bill for the meal when I saw Ryan with her. He must have thought I was at the table. The woman was a few years younger than me and a dress size smaller. They stood between the main entrance and the toilets. He had his arm around her waist and she was toying with his collar. I was shaken when I saw her pull Ryan into one of the doors.

“Excuse me one moment,” I told the restaurant staff.

I didn't wait for a response but took my debit card with me as I walked towards the restrooms. They had gone into the disabled toilet. I placed my ear to the door when my eyes caught a man coming out of the gent's toilet. My eyes widened when I heard what Ryan said next.

“Hurry up and suck me off, you've got four minutes, Lillian.”

“You know I only need three, babe,” she replied.

I pushed myself away from the door and blindly walked towards the exit. When I was outside, I sucked in the warm night air and began to walk down the street towards the square.

Ryan was temperamental, which I’d given him some leeway with due to his mother babying him into his thirties, but cheating on me while his mother and wife were within the same vicinity took some gall. It led me to think of all the times he said he was ‘working late’ or went away for ‘work’ trips.

The last major fight we had led him to push me as I tried to walk away from him. That landed me in the hospital with a fractured radius bone in my forearm. It was the first and last time he laid a hand on me. The fight had been over him giving his mother a key to our house. She waltzed in at any given time, leaving me little to no privacy. It was time to walk away while I could.

I phoned my Dad. He could get to our place in under two hours.

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