MY NETORI SYSTEM-Chapter 22: The Private Celebration

Friday evening arrived like a slow burn I’d been stoking all week. Priya’s second meeting yesterday had left a quiet tension humming in my veins—her jasmine scent still faint on my shirt sleeve, her eyes lingering too long when I left—but tonight wasn’t about her. Tonight was Rebecca.

Nadia had texted earlier that she couldn’t make it: Ethan’s parents are in town. Dinner. I’m trapped. Think of me while you fuck her. She’d added a peach emoji and a crying face. I replied with a single word: Soon.

Rebecca arrived at 7:58 p.m.—early, as always. No coat this time. Just a short black dress over red lace lingerie that peeked at the hem and neckline. Heels. Hair down. Freckles glowing under the hallway light. She stepped inside, kicked the door shut, and looked at me like she’d been starving for days.

"No Nadia?" she asked, voice low, almost disappointed.

"Not tonight," I said. "Just us."

Her smile turned wicked. "Good. I want you all to myself."

I didn’t rush. Poured two glasses of cabernet—same bottle she’d liked last time. Handed her one. We stood in the living room, city lights glittering through the windows, jazz playing soft from the speakers.

She sipped. Watched me over the rim.

"You’ve been busy," she said. "Priya Patel. Nadia. Me. How do you keep up?"

I stepped closer. Brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I prioritize."

She laughed—low, throaty. "Am I a priority tonight?"

"You’re the only priority tonight."

She set her glass down. Stepped into me. Kissed me—slow at first, testing. Then deeper. Tongue sliding against mine. Hands sliding under my shirt, nails raking my back.

I kissed her back—controlled, deliberate. Let her feel every second of it. One hand on her waist. The other cupping her face. She moaned into my mouth—soft, needy.

I walked her backward—slow steps toward the bedroom. Dress straps slipped off her shoulders. I tugged the fabric down—red lace bra exposed, nipples hard through the thin material. I kissed her neck. Down her collarbone. Sucked a mark just above her breast—dark purple blooming on freckled skin.

She gasped. Fingers in my hair.

"David—fuck—"

I peeled the dress the rest of the way off. Let it pool at her feet. Red lace thong soaked through. Thighs trembling.

I picked her up—legs wrapped around my waist. Carried her to the bedroom. Laid her on the bed—slow, reverent. Candles flickered. City lights painted stripes across her body.

She watched me strip—eyes dark, hungry. Shirt off. Jeans down. Boxers last. Cock hard, thick, veins standing out.

She licked her lips. "God... I missed that."

I climbed over her. Kissed her again—deep, claiming. Hands roaming—tits, waist, thighs. I tugged the bra down—breasts spilling free. Sucked one nipple—slow circles with my tongue, teeth grazing. She arched—moaning loud.

"More—please—"

I moved lower. Kissed her stomach. Spread her thighs. Kissed the inside of one—then the other. Blew cool air over her clit through the lace.

She whimpered. Hips bucked.

I peeled the thong down—slow. Exposed her—glistening, swollen, ready.

I licked once—long, flat stroke from entrance to clit.

She cried out—back arching. "Fuck—yes—"

I ate her slow—tongue circling her clit, fingers sliding inside—two, then three. Curled them. Pumped steady while tongue flicked fast.

She came—sudden, violent. Squirting on my chin, thighs shaking, screaming my name. I kept going—licking through it, fingers stroking, until she pushed my head away, oversensitive and laughing breathlessly.

I rose up. Rubbed the head through her folds—coating myself in her wetness.

"Look at me," I said.

Eyes locked—hers glassy, wrecked.

"Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," she whispered. "Only you. Not Paul. Never Paul again."

I pushed in—slow, deep. One long thrust until buried to the hilt.

She gasped—back arching. "Fuck—yes—so full—so much better—"

I held still. Let her feel every inch. Every pulse.

Then I started moving—long, grinding strokes. Deep. Controlled. Her hips rolled up to meet me.

"Harder," she begged.

I sped up—steady rhythm. Deep. Controlled. Her moans grew louder—filling the room.

"Tell me about Paul," I growled between thrusts.

She whimpered. "He’s... small. Boring. Comes in two minutes. Never makes me come. I fake it every time."

I angled deeper—hit that spot.

"Keep going."

"I... I think about you when he’s inside me. Imagine it’s you. Your cock. Your hands. Your mouth."

I pounded harder. Bed creaking. Her tits bouncing. I grabbed one—squeezed.

"Come for me," I ordered. "Come thinking about cheating on him."

She shattered—screaming, pussy clamping, squirting hard. Body convulsing.

I didn’t stop. Kept railing through it. Flipped her onto her stomach. Ass up. Slammed back in from behind. Spanked—hard. Red handprint blooming on freckled skin.

"Beg."

"Please—fill me—breed me—make me yours while he’s at work—"

I pounded faster. Balls slapping. Wet, filthy sounds.

"Say it."

"I’m yours—your slut—your whore—fuck—come inside—"

I buried deep. Came hard—thick ropes flooding her. She milked me, whimpering, coming again—squirting, shaking.

We collapsed—sweaty, tangled.

She curled against me. Whispered, "I’m leaving him."

I kissed her temple. "Not yet."

She looked up—confused.

"Not yet," I repeated. "Let him think everything’s fine. Let him plan vacations. Let him buy anniversary gifts. Then... we’ll see."

The system flared.

[Rebecca – Loyalty Shift: 62% → 78%. She’s already googling apartments. You’re collecting divorces like trading cards.]

Cash Deposit: +$18,000. "Solo MILF Marathon Bonus." You’re on a roll, stud.]

I smirked into her hair.

Paul didn’t know it yet.

But his wife was gone.

And the empire kept growing.