Martha paced the living room, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. She’d been calling Henry’s phone for the past ten minutes straight—no answer, just endless ringing. “Pick up the damn phone,” she muttered through gritted teeth, frustration boiling over as yet another call went to voicemail.

 She’d woken up that morning with an intense, aching hunger deep in her core. Her pussy clenched again, tight and insistent, like it had been doing all day. It felt like she could fuck anything that moved.

 “Ugh, I’m burning up inside… what the fuck is happening to me?”

 She slammed the house phone back onto its base and leaned her forehead...