The rain throws down on our front path. I haven’t dressed for it and my green spaghetti strap dress clings to me as I make the dash from the car, carrying my bag of shopping. My red hair sticks to my face and cold rainwater runs over my skin as I unlock the door. Quietly because I want to surprise you.
I don’t call your name but listen – trying to hear where you are above the sounds of the storm from outside – and think I hear movement upstairs. I leave footprints on the hard floor and a trail of water. At the foot of the stairs, I hear you more clearly. You are talking and I wonder if you are phoning your daughter.
I have this idea, then, of sneaking behind you silently and sliding a hand between your thighs. Making you cum as you talk. So I climb the stairs, biting my lip as I do. Imagine your warm, velvet wetness on my fingers, the firm swell of your clit under my pads. But as I reach the top of the stairs I realise your phone is laid out dark on the landing. I can hear you though: indistinct, murmured words. What are you up to?
I follow the sound of your voice – don’t I always? – and it leads to the bedroom. The door is closed. I put my ear to it. Listen and then suppress a giggle. You are watching porn lover: your murmurs are pleasure, back-tracked with breathy sex noises. Not like you, I think. I am the one who gets turned on by watching that stuff. Not usually you. I put my hand on the door handle and crack it gently. The noises get louder, clearer, as I slip inside, to see what you are watching.
You moan then, loud. But he is the one I see first, not you. A big guy, muscled, with close-cut hair and clean-shaven. His naked body covering your petite form. He is writhing over you, panting and you are – I see you now – pushing against him, your slender legs wrapped around his hips. Taking him. My world tilts, I watch from the doorway, Kastamonu Escort dripping on the carpet.
He has you tied with the cuffs we bought and blindfolded with the scarf we use together. The cuffs rattle the headboard as he thrusts into you. I hear the wet sticky sounds of his cock pushing into your pussy. My mouth is dry, I can’t breath. I am fixed to that spot, in this moment. Watching you enjoy this strange man in our bed.
As I watch, he slides one hand up and strokes your throat the way I do it. His penis is long and glistens wet from you as he slides it out. It hangs over your mound and you squirm like a hungry thing for it, trying to retrieve it. Then he freezes as he sees me, there. And I have a split second to react and just put my finger to my lips. Shhh.
“Don’t stop,” you purr and for a moment the handsome man’s blue eyes look to mine for permission. I nod. He enters you, a sweeping hard thrust that bounces you on the bed and makes you gasp. You are smiling, lustful and giggle with pleasure. I hate that sound you give him but I love it too. You are cheating on me in our bed. So why are my nipples hard through my dress, drawing his eyes?
I set my bag down on the dresser, trying to be silent. He glides in and out of you and I can see your legs tightening, trying to communicate what you need. He does not see it like I see it though: your want. That you are not getting what you need. Thinking, urgently, I use one of your lipsticks to write a message to him on the mirror. HARDER. FASTER.
His eyes widen and for a moment I wonder if he will comply. But then a fractional nod and a hard thrust that lifts your core off the bed. Our reward a deep rolling “ohhhhhh” that sounds like it escaped from the depth of your soul. He nods more certainly and pounds you now, grunting and sweat breaking on his Kayseri Escort skin. Your thighs loosen and fall wider, as he finds the perfect pace. I watch, closely.
The sound of sex fills the room, heavy and breathy. My body responds and I bite my lip to stay quiet. Your lover’s eyes are on me, even as his cock shakes your body. Your toes curl. Your back arcs as you shove your hips against him. I wonder if you hear the noises you make. My heart pounds in my chest.
I reach and tease one of the wet straps from my shouder, slipping my arm from it so my breast falls free. The other follows and I step naked from it. Lover boy looks me over. He drives hard into you and you gasp as the cuffs tear at your wrists. His eyes move across me and mine across the two of you. Your pert little tits shake as you ride him. I blow him a kiss, pouting my lips, and step forward a few steps, to the edge of the bed.
He raises a hand and cups my face and I turn and suck his finger. All silent, all subtle, so that you do not even know yet you have been caught. He smiles – handsome smile, square jawed and sparky eyes – and I take his wrist. Guide his fingers over my collarbone, to my chest and across my breasts. Trying to communicate with my eyes. He squeezes my breasts and the energy flows through my nerves to my brain and into my clit. I feel it pulse and breath a little harder. I worry then that you will find our little secret.
But I need not worry because right then your body shakes and you cry out – lips parted and your tongue pink between white teeth. Your cuffs rattling and I see what he feels, the pulse of juice sliding down his shaft and dripping to the bed. I put a hand to my lips: a silent shhh. And I sink softly to my knees in the carpet by the bed, hearing the wet slap of cock in pussy. Hearing your pleasured moans. The sighed Kıbrıs Escort “no” as he pulls out and slides off the bed to feed my mouth.
My lipstick leaves an exagerated kiss around his head. His meat tastes of you: musky and sweet. I lick you off him and almost giggle as I hear you say, “Where have you gone?” I trace the veins of him – God, you have him pulsing, primed – with my teeth and he gasps. I flick my eyes up at him and wink. “Are you done with me already? I want your cum.” A breathy neediness in your voice.
“I’ll be back,” he says, “I just want to look at you.” His eyes dance between us. My hands run up his sweaty, ripped thighs and curl round to hold his butt. I keep sucking until I taste the heavier, manly smell of his cock under your perfume. Bouncing my head now. Do you hear that, love? The sloppy combination of drool, cock and pussy in my mouth. I scratch his skin and he moans. His whole being throbs in my mouth, against my tongue. I open my throat and push on until my lips kiss the base of him. His big hands grab my wet hair and pull. “Fuck,” he murmurs.
“What was that?” you say.
“You’re beautiful,” he says.
I slide off his cock – mouth connected to the bouncing head by strings of precum and saliva. I lean in and lick the sensitive spot under his shaft. Tip of my tongue. Once, twice. Three times. Kiss the the eye as he spasms and releases so it fills my mouth. Sticky and heavy. I grin and gesture with my eyes and – praise be – he gets the message and pulls from me, holding his shaft and jerking so the next spray lands pale and long across your thigh and mound and stomach.
“Did you just jerk off on me?” Your voice that flirty giggle I adore. I let his cum run down my chin and drip onto my tits as I collect my wet dress and slip silently out of the room. “I hope you still have the energy to fuck me some more before she gets home.” I hear your words as I head downstairs.
I sit for the next hour on the lounger by the picture window, cum and rain dry on my skin. The sounds of your pleasure echo through our home. And I know I will ride your face tonight until I can barely stand.