Pleasure Island
Copyright© 2022 by MariannaLove
Chapter 23
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 23 - Chelsea Miller is a 25-year-old Makeup Artist. She cohabitates with her boyfriend Aston whom she hopes to marry one day. However, Ashton does not have plans to be tied down to any one woman. He feels variety is the spice of life and lives to his motto. One day, Chelsea arrives home early from work she gets to witness her boyfriend of five years sexing two women in their bed. She threatens to leave. Find out what happens when Chelsea heads to Pleasure Island and goes buck wild.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Consensual Romantic Gay Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Humor Cheating Sharing Group Sex Orgy Swinging Interracial Black Male Black Female White Male White Female Hispanic Male Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Oral Sex Squirting Big Breasts
Ashton ... Not My Chelsea
After, I sent Chelsea that email, I just knew I’d get a phone call. I mean, not right away but at least after twenty-four hours of thinking about what we shared. After days of not hearing from her, I finally realized that I missed out on the best thing that I had ever had.
I was at the barber shop getting myself right. I needed to go hang out. I had started hanging with another one of my friends because Mick had gotten caught up with Elise. I couldn’t believe he was actually into that chick even after I told him about what she had done.
Now the barbershop wasn’t too packed on a Tuesday afternoon. So, a lot of the barbers were sitting in their workstations scrolling through social media waiting on clients to walk through the door. This one guy in particular that had his chair next to my barber named Armando was on the phone. Normally, I don’t listen to people’s conversations especially if they’re speaking another language.
The dude spoke fast in Spanish to somebody on the phone, “Ay primo, miraste tu fotos en Facebook, quien es esa chica? Tu novia. Come se llama? Chelsea.”
As soon as I heard that name, my ears perked up. I didn’t speak Spanish fluently but I knew enough to figure out this dude was dating a girl named Chelsea that lived in Tampa. That had my neck on fire. Who the fuck is this dude? And was this my Chelsea? It couldn’t have been.
I looked over at the dude’s barber license and saw his full name. I found him on Facebook. He didn’t have a lot of friends on there and his page wasn’t set to private. I went through all the dudes on his friend’s list and checked out as many pages as I could as I got my hair cut.
After I paid, I went to my car and sat for another hour until I came upon this dude named Christian Munoz. A pretty boy with light eyes, “fuck,” I said to myself. I scrolled down his profile and saw pictures of him with my Chelsea.
I could have set everything on fire. My insides churned. This wasn’t happening. Was she cheating on me with this dude? I asked myself. I started my car and headed to her friend Lisa’s.
I pulled into the parking lot. Lisa owned a temp agency. I walked inside and saw the receptionist sitting at the front desk, “I need to see Lisa,” I demanded impatiently.
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