My Private Locker Secret: Surrendering to the Thief Who Saved My Life
I’ve guarded this in my private locker forever. That night in my bedroom at La Vulvinière, after smashing my ex’s cars and swallowing pills, blood everywhere. I blacked out, wrists slashed. Then he appeared—the burglar, Alban, L’Arsène Lapin. Caught mid-theft, but he saved me. Called firefighters, bandaged me, slapped my cheeks till I stirred. Cops nabbed him, but fate twisted. Judge sentenced him to community service at my estate. Watch over me, maintain the grounds. Or prison.
Months blurred. He trimmed hedges, fixed shutters, muscles gleaming under sweat. I tested him—left cash, jewels out. He hid them safe in a Ming vase, called it a ‘potiche.’ Laughed my ass off. ‘Grands violets,’ he said for 500-euro bills. Charmant. But trust? Thin. Ex-fiancé Pierre-Édouard screwing my cousin Marie-Édith. Rage built. He protected me from thugs, took blows. I blasted them with salt-shot from my duck gun. Nursed his bruises, he mine.
Opening the Vault: The Breaking Point
That vernissage. Saw them announce wedding. Snapped. Alban decked the marquis, I dumped paint on the bitch—red, white, blue. Vive la France. Back home, adrenaline surged. Grabbed him, kissed fierce. Tore clothes off in the foyer. His mouth devoured mine, tongue thrusting deep. Carried me upstairs, ripped my dress, string snapped away.
On knees, she engulfed him. No—me, on knees first? Wait, my secret spills raw. I dropped, his cock thick, veined, sprang free. Gripped base, licked head salty-pre cum. Sucked deep, throat stretched, gagging sweet. Balls heavy, cupped them, tongue swirling. He groaned, ‘Oh fuck, Rose.’ Fingers in hair, hips bucked gentle. Swallowed whole, nose to pubes, hummed vibration. He exploded, hot jets hit throat, gulped every drop. Spat in embroidered handkerchief—my family crest, duck fucking boar.
His turn. Laid me back, legs wide. Stared at my bush, white line bleached stripe. ‘Like coke line.’ Dove in, tongue lapped clit, sucked hard. Fingers plunged pussy, curled G-spot. Juices flooded, hips bucked. ‘Eat me, fuck yes!’ Clit throbbed, waves crashed, screamed, thighs crushed his head.
Raw Surrender: Our Forbidden Union
Recovered, stroked his hardening shaft. Perfect—not huge, but thick, long enough. Grandma’s words: ‘Long and fat.’ Guided him in. Stretched me full, slow thrust, filled every inch. Eyes locked, missionary deep. Then pounded, balls slapping ass. Nails raked back, bit shoulder. Came again, pussy clenched milked him dry. Venom deep inside.
Night blurred—cowgirl, me grinding, tits bouncing. Reverse, ass cheeks spread, his thumb teased rosebud. Doggy, face in pillows, slammed till raw. Sweat-slick, cum-streaked. Dawn, naked tangled.
Maid burst in, breakfast tray. ‘Smells like pussy!’ Grinned. ‘About time. Fuck daily.’ We did. Poolside apneic blowjobs, my lungs burning round his cock. Underwater cunnilingus, legs thrashing ecstasy. Garden quickies, grass-stained knees. My locker? Unlocked forever. He left after hours served, heart shattered. Momo dragged him back. Now? Daily doses. Light, free. Secret shared, thrill electric.
