r/eroticstorylovers

Melissa turns the corner into her street, and pulls into the driveway. All the lights are off, the curtains are open, and the house is no doubt as cold and quiet as a cemetery at 2am. She glances at the dash before she turns the car off. It's 9:23 pm. "Fucking prick" she mutters to herself as she gets out.

She unlocks the front door, turns the lights on, and then brings the boys in from the car. She picks Dan up out the back seat, and nudges Jake. Sleepy, he climbs out of the car and follows her inside. She gets them settled in bed. She turns the heating on and closes the curtains before grabbing herself a glass of wine and sitting down at the dinner table. She calls him, and it rings for a long time before he picks up.

"Hi sexybum!" Bob shouts into the phone, and she yanks the phone away from her ear. Wherever he is, it's loud, and Bob has clearly been drinking. Trying to keep the anger out of her voice, she asks him where he is. "Just out with the lads from work, I told you we were getting a drink for Sonny's leaving do". He sounds blissfully unaware because, she realises, he is. This is Bob. The man she married, the man she loved... the man who now never thinks about anyone except himself. "You were meant to bring the boys home from mum's this afternoon *before* going out. Remember?". Silence from the other end of the phone. Well, silence from Bob. Plenty of other noise - music, laughter, loud talking, and... *that slut's unmistakable voice* asking "Did Sonny go home already?" in that airhead voice. Mel grinds her teeth.

Bob seems distracted as he yells "Babe, I can't hear you, but I'm out with the boys. I'll probably crash at Joe's house tonight because I've had too many to drive". The line goes dead before she can even respond. Her eyes blur, but real tears don't form. She's beyond crying, she realises. Anger rises, though. That's still there. She throws her phone across the dining room, into the lounge, and it hits the couch in the other room. She gulps her entire glass of wine down. She walks back into the kitchen and refills her glass. Empties it again. The last of the wine splashes into the glass, and she blankly walks into the lounge and sits down on the couch. "You... you... YOU FUCKING PRICK!" She shouts at the empty room. It feels good to let it out. "AAAAARGH! FUCK YOU!" Sheepishly, she realises that the kids are asleep and that there's no point in screaming at a man who isn't even there.

She drinks the rest of the wine without even tasting it, and walks back to the kitchen with the intent to get another glass. The glass slips as she puts it down, topples, and smashes on the counter. "Well, shit." She says to herself. Just another thing to clean up. She starts picking up shards of glass, looks around, sighs, and decides instead that this particular mess can wait.

20 minutes later, she's back on the couch, with a blanket, a book, and music softly playing. She's changed out of her work clothes and is wearing an oversized jumper over her loose night shirt. She's not ready to sleep, but also doesn't feel like doing anything else. She doesn't get much opportunity to read with everything else she's expected to do around the place, so she's curled her feet up under herself, and is starting to get engrossed in her book.

A few minutes later, she's interrupted by a voice and the front door opening. "He came home? That was quick" She thinks to herself as she gets up and walks around the corner, book in hand. She's surprised to see Matt, halfway in the door, looking worried. "Hey... what are you doing here?" Mel asks, confused. He straightens up, looking around, clearly just as confused as she is, although she can't work out why. He shakes his head a little as though he's still trying to work it out himself. "You rung me... but you didn't say anything. I thought maybe you butt-dialed me, but then I heard yelling, and... I was worried." He says, taking a step into the house and closing the door behind him. He seems unsure of what to do now. "I called out to you, and I listened for a few minutes, but I didn't hear any more. I would have come sooner but I didn't want to intrude, and I know..." he trails off. "What? What do you know?" Mel asks, a little angry that Matt thinks he knows *anything* about what's going on.

He hesitates. "I know... I know how Bob can be sometimes, and I didn't want to make things worse by coming over unannounced". She sighs, and nods. Bob would absolutely have reacted badly. Maybe not while Matt was around, but certainly after. He pauses, more confident now that he's said the hardest part out loud. "I called back but it went straight to answerphone, so I decided I was just going to drive past to make sure everything was ok." He looks past her. "Did he leave? I don't see his car." He breathes deep, and she stays quiet, not sure what to say. He tries to lighten the mood with a joke and a shrug. "So.... well, you're obviously fine, and I'm just interrupting a good book, which is a crime at my place!" Not his best work, but she appreciates the effort. Quieter, more seriously, he says "Look, I don't want to make things worse by being here when he gets back. But call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk." He turns and walks back to the door.

This time it's Mel who hesitates. "Don't go" she says quietly. Matt turns back and looks at her. "Bob's out. He's not..." 'coming home tonight' is what she was going to say, but she stops herself. "He's not here." Matt's been a friend for a long time, and he knows things are... not great. She's never known him to be judgemental about, well, anything, and she knows he and Emily had their own issues before she left him a few years before. But she's not going to just blurt out where she thinks Bob is, or who he might be with. She looks around the house, the empty bottle of wine on the table, and the broken glass on the kitchen bench, and sighs. "I do need someone to talk to"

She walks back into the lounge to get her phone. Yep. Dead flat. At least it's not smashed. She plugs it in and sits down on the couch as Matt walks in and sits down on the other end of the couch. They look at each other, years of friendship and shared history opening the way for conversation, but the situation making them hesitate. Usually, this house is warm and welcoming. Loud, even, since normally when Matt is here, there's a dozen other friends, music, drinks, and laughter.

Mel looks up at the ceiling, and sighs. "Bob was meant to pick up the kids from mum's this afternoon." She picks up the blanket from the floor, tucks her legs under herself on the soft leather seat, and lies it over her legs to stay warm. "I had plans to have a drink with Lisa, but I had to cancel on her, again, at the last minute." She sighs. "I don't think she's going to ask me again. Thats the third time this year I've had to cancel plans, and when I rung her, she didn't sound surprised, or even annoyed. Just resigned."

Her phone buzzes, but she ignores it. Matt sits there quietly as Mel continues, explaining that Bob, instead of picking up the kids, went out for drinks with workmates. She's trying not think think about which workmates, because she knows she'll just end up angrier. Matt listens, and she appreciates that he's not trying to make jokes or problem solve. She just needs to get things off her chest and he seems to realise that. He's listening, occasionally nodding, and filling in the quiet spaces with nothing-talk when she runs out of words. She can hear encouragement and sympathy in his voice and see it in his body language, but thankfully, not pity. She does *not* want pity. She knows he's been through his own shit, and that helps. She doesn't go too deep, and the topics slowly turn to more light hearted things. She knows what he's doing, guiding conversation subtly away from painful things without cutting her off or being dismissive. She's happy to talk about more general things. She realises that just having some company, someone to talk to, is what she needs tonight.

"Your boys!" She yells. She suddenly realises he's here, which means his boys are home alone. "Jessica is looking after them" he says with a smile. "She had no plans, and Friday nights her babysitting rate is higher, so she was only too happy to sit on my couch on her phone and get paid to do nothing but listen to quiet snoring from the boys and raid my fridge for snacks!". He laughs, and Mel realises she's staring with a blank expression - she has no idea who Jessica is. Matt reads her mind. "The neighbour's daughter. She looks after the boys sometimes when I can't be home. She's a good kid." Mel shakes her head and says "You better give me her number. Good babysitters are worth their weight in gold, and I'm totally gonna steal her from yoAAAAAAH!" She kicks her right leg out violently as a cramp hits the arch of her foot. The blanket hits Matt in the face and the top of her foot kicks his thigh.

He instinctively grabs her foot and his fingers quickly realise what's wrong. He feels the curl of her big toe and presses it up and back, stretching the tendon. His other hand grabs her heel and that thumb rubs warmth into her arch. He holds her leg up slightly, at his chest height, and his hands rapidly put pressure in the right spots - pushing the rest of her toes up, holding the arch of her foot, rubbing the sides... all while the blanket is still just draped over his face. Mel can't help herself, and starts laughing at the sight. She's lying flat on her back, head angled up uncomfortably on the couch armrest, left foot thrown up onto the back of the couch, right leg stretched straight forward held by two strong hands, bent and pushed by... a blanket with arms.

A muffled laugh escapes from under the blanket, and Matt tosses his head until the blanket falls behind him and off the couch. He's still holding her foot up, gentle but firm pressure applied to arch, toes, and heel as the cramp fades. She's still lying back, laughing uncontrollably, the long sleeves of her jumper flapping as she waves her hands in his direction. She opens her eyes and he meets her gaze, a wide smile on his face. It feels good, being able to laugh. He's still holding her foot, pressure on, in case the cramp comes back. He glances at her foot and back to her face.

No... not at her foot. She can see the angle of his gaze, and she thinks he was looking past her foot... She realises her legs are still half splayed, and her night shirt and long jumper have ridden up to past her waist. She's wearing a pair of short, loose, silk boxers, and she's pretty sure that's where his eyes had strayed. Ok, she thinks... he's a man, he can look. He's seen a lot more of her before, on his massage table, and she can't help but think back to the last massage he gave her a few months ago...

Her laughter fades and he can see she's distracted by something. "Everything ok?" He asks and reaches back to pick up the blanket. She takes back her foot and rubs the instep. The cramp is completely gone, and Matt hands her the blanket. "Thank you, that feels much better" she says as she settles the blanket on herself again. He waves his hand in a dismissive way and says "It's nothing". He shrugs. "Not just for that," she says. "For coming over. For listening. For caring." He looks away for a second, and then looks her in the eye. "It's what anyone would do. It's what friends are for". He genuinely seems to mean it. With a small start, she comes to a realisation. She'd said essentially the same thing to Bob just last week, when she went to drop some groceries off for a friend who'd been struggling. His reaction now contrasted by what Matt said: "Your friends are only there when *they* need *you*" he'd said.

Not entirely sure what to do with that train if thought, she pushed it away. "Do you want a drink?" She asks, bouncing to her feet. "I think I need a rum" she walks past him into the kitchen, trailing her hand on his shoulder as she walks past. He gets up and follows her. "Just the one, I still have to drive. Got any bourbon?" She sees him glace at the clock. "Yes I do, and don't worry, Bob said he'd be late". She pours them both a drink, hers a rum and coke, and she remembers he likes his bourbon with sprite, of all things. "Why not just have it with coke?" She asks. "Coke overpowers the flavour of anything you mix it with. Thats fine for rum, but I actually *like* the taste of bourbon, much to my Single-Malt-Scotch-purist father" he says with a smile. They toast, and move back to the lounge. She adjusts the heating up by a few degrees on the way past.

They plop themselves comfortably back on the couch, and even though she's a little bit cold, she deliberately leaves the blanket off and settles sideways on the couch, her left leg hugged against her chest and her right laying across the middle seat towards Matt. He's sitting facing her with his left leg dangling off the couch and his right foot tucked under his left knee. They take a sip of their drinks and she sees him close his eyes as he drinks. He seems to really like it. "Can I try it?" She asks. He offers his glass, and she takes a sip. "I can see why you like it. Maybe I'll just keep it" she says with a playful smirk. He grins at her and she sees his eyes wander down again. He's clearly trying not to stare, but the glance was unmistakable this time. She smiles and leans forward to give him back his glass. "Mmmm. Very smooth. Do you like everything smooth?" She teases him with a raised eyebrow.

"Hmmmm..." he says, pretending to give it serious thought. "I *do* like smooth, but some of the best drinks I've ever had were a little... rough around the edges, you know?" He smiles and winks over his glass as he takes another sip.

She taps her glass with a fingernails as she also pretends to consider this reply as though it's some deep truth, rather than barely disguised innuendo. "I should try more drinks". She declares. "For science, you know?" She deliberately slides her gaze from looking him in the eyes, down at the loose fitting track pants he's wearing. "There's a lot of flavours" he says, his eyes trying desperately to stay on her face as she shifts around on the couch. She stretches and glances at the heat pump which is now warming up the room considerably.

"I'm hot" she says, and she puts down her drink. Mel stands up and pulls the jumper over her head as her phone buzzes again. She makes no effort to hold her shirt down, and it comes almost all the way off, exposing her right breast before she lazily pulls it back down. Matt puts both feet on the floor and says "Hot? You sure are" as he leans slightly forward, holding his drink in both hands and looking her up and down. "What a drink" he says appreciatively.

She takes the glass out of his hands, downs the bourbon for a little bit more courage, and leans over in front of him to put the empty glass on the floor. She glances up at Matt and she knows her loose, low-cut night shirt is now angled in such a way that he can at least one, probably both of her breasts down her top. He is looking *exactly* where she wants him to, and she puts her hands on his shoulders and gives a little shove. He obligingly lays back and she climbs onto the couch, one leg on either side of him, straddling his lap.

"I, ummm" he begins, but she puts a finger on his lips and tells him to shush. "Just sit there and drink this all in" she leans forward and kisses him, her hands moving across his shoulders and around his neck. For the second time, she thinks about how this *should* feel like crossing a line, but it doesn't. Matt's hands gently reach up and touch her legs, her hips, and then slide easily under the baggy shirt. His fingers on her skin make her shiver, and it's not from the cold. She kisses him again, first a lingering one on the mouth, then across his cheek and onto his neck, while she slowly begins to grind her hips into his.

The reaction is immediate and unmistakable. Matt's preference for loose track pants - something she has always found incredibly sexy, being able to see the swing and outline of his cock whenever it moved - means that she can feel him getting harder through the fabric. Her silk shorts may as well not exist, though she's always loved how the coldness of the silk feels against her skin. Now, as she slowly moves up and down on his lap, her hips rolling backwards and forwards, his cock is already rubbing around - and with some careful steering, in between - her lips. She keeps kissing his neck as his warm, muscular hands dance across her back, under her arms, and over her breasts.

She leans back slightly and tosses her head back while her hips continue their slow, gentle, but steadily more intense ride on his lap. He moves his hands down, and again she feels his fingers caressing her hips. The fingers curl and slide under the loose shorts and around her butt, each hand adding gentle pressure, encouraging a closer grind. She's positioned herself so that the tip of his penis is rubbing directly on her clit, and a moan escapes her lips. She wants his pants off, like, *right now*, but she also doesn't want to move. His thumbs caress her hip bones as his fingers lightly grip her bum, guiding her hips up and down in a rhythm they clearly both like.

She decides that enough is enough, and with one more deep kiss planted on his lips, she stands up and tugs at his pants. He's happy to slide them off for her. She leans forward, looking down at his thick cock, and then looks him in the eyes. This man brought her to orgasm three times the last time he laid hands on her, has come over to check on her, and is even paying a babysitter just to be here for her. He has never asked for anything, and gives freely. She makes a decision.

She leans forward and kisses him deeply, her hand pulling his head in closer as she reaches down with her other hand to lightly run her fingers down the side of his cock, and she gently curls her hand under his balls. He shudders and she gives them a little squeeze. Then she kneels down in between his legs, flicks her hair over her shoulder, and looks up at him as she grabs his now throbbing cock in her right hand. Maintaining eye contact, she slowly, very slowly sticks out her tongue and licks his shaft. Another shudder. Gently kneading his balls with her left hand, and stroking the base of his thick cock with her right, she looks down, opens her mouth, and glides his head between her lips and onto her tongue. He breathes a ragged sigh and clutches the leather couch with his hands. She can feel tremors and shudders moving through his body.

Rolling her tongue around the head, and using her lips to tease around the top half of his swollen cock, she starts to move her head down and up, gently pumping the opposite way with her hand. She sucks gently and pulls her head back slowly. Her mouth literally makes a soft 'pop' sound as she moves back far enough for him to come out. "Hnnngggg" he says, arms twitching at his sides, and she laughs. One of the few times she's ever heard him actually speechless, and she decides she is loving this. She thinks back to that day a few months ago when his hands and mouth brought her to some of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever had, and suddenly understands why some people give, with no expectation of getting anything in return. Making someone else feel good *is* the point. That is the reward.

That thought in mind, as she takes him into her mouth again and he makes a quiet but high pitched noise in his throat, she decides it's payback time. She slowly slides her mouth down his cock, her tongue caressing him, and abruptly stops, exactly half way down his cock. She could take him deeper... she can feel him straining to hold himself back, and yes, she could take him deeper... but she's not going to. She moves back up, edging around the head and rim of his now deeply pulsing and rock-hard cock, and looks up at him. He feels her looking, and looks down. She smiles again and goes back down to halfway, and up, and down again, maintaining eye contact the whole time. His eyes practically begging her to go deeper, after a few more moments she sees the light of understanding in his eyes. He suddenly laughs, an almost explosive sounds and she realises he's been holding his breath for close to a minute, and he shakes his head. "You... you are so mean. Evil!" He says, a little breathlessly. "But I guess I deserved that", and he closes his eyes and puts his head back on the couch. "Payback's a bitch" she says with a grin, and then she puts her mouth back on him. Slowly, controlled, she slides her mouth as far down his cock as she can take it. She cups his balls again with her left hand, and with her right, she reaches down between her legs. She's incredibly wet and horny, and she'd like nothing more than to climb on and ride him, but she wants to see this through. With a tempo slowly increasing, she works on his cock and balls until, about a minute later, she feels him tense up and his short, sharp breathing stops altogether. He taps her arm but she knows, and she doesn't want to move. With a force that surprises her, his cock starts pumping and he groans, loud and long. She has to pull back slightly, and she swallows as much of his cum as she can before it spurts out over her lips and onto his legs. "Hnnnnnnnn... h... holy fuck" he manages to say as his muscles all relax and his cock stops twitching. She smiles as she wipes the cum off her chin, strangely proud. It had been many years since she'd taken anyone in her mouth, and even back then, it was never pleasant. While this was by no means what *she* would have ever thought she wanted, watching him twitch, having that control, and being able to get that kind of response was satisfying in a way she'd never really considered was possible. Her phone buzzes again and for a second, spoils her happy thoughts.

He lifts his head, looks down at himself and then at her and says "That was completely unnecessary, but thank you. Jesus christ. Holy shit." She laughs and says "Go get cleaned up, you filthy animal. You got cum all over my couch". He laughs, and grabs his pants as he stands up, heading for the hallway. She sees him turn right toward the bathroom, and calls out "Use the ensuite!". He turns left instead and he walks into her bedroom. The main bathroom is right between the boys' bedrooms and she didn't want to have to explain *that* to any late-night-I-had-to-pee boy wandering around.

She grabs herself a couple of paper towels from the kitchen, wets them in the sink and cleans herself up some more. She looks down and sees that she managed to save her clothes, and the couch is also relatively clear of... collateral damage. She sees her phone and decides to check it. Two notifications from the bank, and a text from Bob. She checks the bank notifications.

The first notification is an Uber charge. Fine, at least he's not driving drunk. But the second notification is a motel. A cheap motel. Bob seems to have forgotten that she can see when he spends money on his credit card. She knows what this means, clearly. With a resigned feeling, she opens the message. "Gong fishing with Steve 2moro. Be home Sunday". That's it. She's supposed to believe that somehow, he's managed to line up a fishing trip with a friend, at this time of night, for the following day? Even if she hadn't seen the motel charge she would have struggled to bring herself to believe that.

She drops her phone. She thinks for a second and it dawns on her that she's not even angry anymore. She realises that she's known for months, and that tonight was the last of her anger. She lied to herself because it was easier, less painful. Now, the pain is gone.

She walks to the front door, locks it, turns off all the lights, and walks into the bedroom. Bob can have his cheap motel. Tonight is hers.

He didn’t ease into it.

The second that thick cock stretched me open and bottomed out, he planted one hand beside my head, grabbed a fistful of my hair with the other, and started fucking me like he’d been starving for it.

Hard. Deep. Brutal.

Every thrust punched the air out of my lungs. The wet slap of his hips against my ass filled the quiet living room. I could feel every ridge, every vein, dragging along my walls as he dragged almost all the way out and slammed back in to the root.

“Fuck....Sir....” I choked, legs already shaking around his waist.

He didn’t slow down. He just stared down at me with those dark eyes while he wrecked me, watching my tits bounce with every savage stroke.

“Look at you,” he growled, voice rough. “Twenty-eight years old and already spreading for your best friend’s dad like a desperate little slut. You came over here dripping, didn’t you? Walked through my door with that tight little cunt already soaked, hoping I’d fill it.”

I nodded frantically, nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes..yes, Sir...I did...”

He snapped his hips harder, angling up so the head of his cock dragged over that perfect spot inside me on every thrust. My vision went white for a second.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your cum,” I gasped. “I want you to breed me. Please..pump it deep...knock me up...”

His rhythm stuttered for half a second, then he slammed in even deeper, grinding against my cervix like he was trying to fuck straight into my womb.

“Say it again.”

“Breed me, Sir. Use my pussy like it’s just a warm hole to dump your load into. I want it leaking out of me for days. I want to walk around tomorrow knowing your cum is still inside me, trying to take.”

He pulled out suddenly. I made a broken sound of protest, but he just flipped me onto my stomach like I weighed nothing, yanked my hips up until I was face-down, ass-up, and shoved back in with one long, punishing stroke.

The new angle made me cry out. He was so deep it almost hurt in the best way. His heavy balls slapped against my clit every time he bottomed out.

One big hand came down hard on my ass. The sharp sting made my pussy clench around him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, spanking me again. “Take it. Take every fucking inch while you beg me to knock you up.”

I pushed back to meet every thrust, shameless. “Please, Daddy.. fill me. Breed your best friend’s daughter’s best friend. Make me your dirty little breeding slut. I don’t care if it’s wrong. I need it.”

The word “Daddy” made him snarl. His hands clamped down on my waist hard enough to leave marks and he started railing me in earnest short, vicious strokes that kept the head of his cock battering against my cervix over and over.

“You want to get pregnant?” he gritted out. “Want me to pump you so full of cum that it has nowhere to go but deeper? Want to walk out of here with my load dripping down your thighs knowing there’s a chance I just put a baby in you?”

“Yes fuuuuck... yes, Daddy please...”

He reached under me and rubbed my clit in tight, mean circles while he fucked me. The dual sensation was too much. My orgasm hit like a truck violent, full-body, pussy locking down around his cock in pulsing waves while I sobbed into the couch cushions.

He didn’t stop. He rode me through it, forcing his cock deeper every time my walls tried to push him out.

“That’s one,” he said darkly. “You’re going to come again with my cock buried in you. Then I’m going to flood this greedy little cunt.”

He pulled out again, flipped me onto my back, shoved my knees up to my chest so I was completely folded open, and drove back in to the hilt.

I was so wet it was obscene , slick sounds every time he bottomed out, my own juices coating his balls and running down my ass.

He leaned over me, forehead almost touching mine, and started grinding deep instead of thrusting slow, circular rolls of his hips that kept every thick inch buried inside me, pressing against my cervix like he was trying to force his way into my womb.

“Feel that?” he murmured. “That’s where I’m going to put it. Right fucking there. You’re going to take every drop and hold it in like a good little breeding hole.”

I was trembling, overstimulated, already building toward another orgasm. “Please, Sir Daddy breed me. I want it so bad. I want your cum so deep I can taste it. I want to feel it leaking out of me while I drive home. I want to be full of you.”

His control finally snapped.

He started fucking me hard and deep again, hips slamming, the couch creaking under us. One hand wrapped around my throat—not choking, just holding while the other kept my legs pinned open.

“Take it,” he growled. “Take Daddy’s cock. Take every drop I’m about to pump into this tight little cunt. You’re mine tonight. This pussy is mine to breed.”

I came again with a broken cry, walls fluttering and squeezing around him. The second my orgasm hit, he buried himself to the root and held there, cock pulsing hard as the first thick rope of cum blasted against my cervix.

He kept grinding through it, forcing every spurt deeper, like he was trying to fuck his load straight into my womb.
I could feel it hot, heavy pulses flooding me, more than I expected, so much that it started leaking out around his cock even while he was still buried inside me. He just kept rocking his hips, pushing it back in, refusing to let any of it escape.

When the last throb finally faded he stayed locked deep, breathing hard against my neck.

“Don’t you dare let it out,” he ordered, voice still rough. “Clench for me. Keep Daddy’s cum right where it belongs.”

I squeezed around him obediently, feeling the thick mess of it inside me, warm and heavy. He slowly pulled out, watching his cock drag free, shiny and still half-hard, a thick string of cum connecting us for a second before it broke.

A heavy gush of his load immediately started to leak out of my stretched hole.

He caught it with two fingers and shoved it right back in, pushing deep, then held his hand over my pussy like a seal.

“Not yet,” he said. “You’re going to keep that load inside you while I get hard again. Then I’m going to put another one in you. And another. Until this greedy little cunt is so full it’s dripping down your legs every time you move.”

I stared up at him, wrecked and already aching for more, thighs still shaking.

He leaned down and kissed me for the first time slow, filthy, tasting like pure possession then spoke against my lips.

“We’re just getting started, baby girl. By the time the sun comes up, you’re going to be dripping my cum and walking funny… and you’re going to thank me for every single load.”

He pushed two fingers back into me, scooping his own seed deeper, and curled them against that sensitive spot until I whimpered.

“Now tell me what you are.”

I looked him straight in the eyes, voice wrecked and needy.

His cock was already hardening against my thigh.

And the night was still young…

——

Thanks for reading! I’m always open for feedback.

Melissa finished work, and picked up the kids from school. She brought them over to Matt's so they could play with his boys since they get on well and are about the same ages. Matt's been a friend of the family since she was a teenager, and he lives a few streets away with his two sons. It's a beautiful, quiet, sunny town. It's almost 4pm, and she's had a busy day. The kids go off to play lego, or minecraft. They're happy, and she can relax.

Matt offers her a coffee, and they chat for a few minutes. She takes a drink and he notices she's not moving comfortably. He ask about it, and she tells him she's got a sore neck and back, so he asks if she'd like a massage. He's given her plenty of neckrubs over the years, usually sitting in a chair or on his massage table. The whole family knows he's a masseur - most of them have been to see him at some point... and she knows he's got good hands. He know how to find those sore spots and work the knots out. So she says yes.

Matt goes to set up the massage table in the master bedroom. Being entirely honest, Mel was hoping he'd offer, and not just because she's got a sore neck from work. There's been something between them for years now, and it's a little exciting when he lays his hands on her. Having someone touch you who can make you feel good and relax, well, everyone needs that. They both know it's not really going to go anywhere, but it is exciting to let herself imagine.

She thinks about how, some evenings when they're all hanging out together having a drink, they'll flirt a little. She might rub up against him in the kitchen, and he'll casually touch her lower back as he walks past. One cold evening last year while they were drinking outside celebrating a birthday, he stole her seat while she was off getting a blanket for herself. Instead of standing, Mel simply sat on his lap when he refused to move. Two minutes later, getting warm under the blanket settled around her shoulders, his hand was resting comfortably on her lap. Five more minutes, it was curled around her. One more glass of wine later and her jeans were unbuttoned under the blanket, and his hand was gently stroking the v-shape of her lace lingerie, all while talking and laughing with the rest of the group.

Yes, his hands have been in places a friend shouldn't touch, masseur or not. Mel's pretty sure her husband Bob knows they flirt, but he's very handsy with all the women in his life, even Emily, Matt's ex-wife. Mel has already decided that she's not going to feel guilty for flirting, since Bob seems to think nothing of groping other people's wives any chance he gets.

Mel quietly wonders when Bob will be home. Not because anything is going to happen here, but because he gets angry when she's not home before him. She looks at the time, and its not even five past four yet. Bob works in the city, and doesn't finish til 5. It can take an hour to get home, so there's heaps of time. Probably.

Mel checks on the kids, and they are playing together. As far as they're concerned, she no longer exist, at least until they get hungry. She walks into the bedroom, and the massage table is set up next to the bed. It's the only quiet place in the house that has enough space to fit the padded table.

She closes the door behind her and looks at Matt. "Just your neck and shoulders, or does anywhere else need attention too?" he asks with a smile. She decides to challenge him: "See if your hands can find the spots that need it most". Matt turns around to grab the oil, and Mel takes her top off and lies down. She leaves her bra on, liking the idea that he's either going to have to take it off himself, or work around it. She's pretty sure she knows which he'll choose as she settles onto the table.

Matt walks over and drapes a towel over her lower body and tucks it into the top of her pants. He clicks his tongue and says "I dont want to get oil on your clothes, so I'm going to undo your bra". Mel murmurs something that sounds like a yes, and she feels his hands undo the clasp. It feels great to have that pressure off.

Matt puts on some quiet music, and begins with some long, slow strokes down her back. With a deep sigh, she starts to relax. His thumbs and fingers work deep patterns on her shoulders and upper back, and she feels her muscles slowly unclenching. They talk about her day as he finds some knots on either side of her spine, and with firm but gentle pressure, they release.

His strong hands start to work down her sides, and he lifts and places her hands up above her head. Now his hands start working the skin around her sides and near her armpits. It's a little ticklish, but she does love the feeling of his open palms on the sore muscles there. He puts some pressure on a knot under her right shoulderblade, and the underwire from her bra starts to dig into tender skin. She raises herself up slightly to pull the bra out. It falls to the floor.

With a smile, she notices Matt's breathing has sped up a little, and he's talking less as he focuses more on her lower back and sides. He's found a couple of sore muscles right near her hips, and those strong fingers have found them. She lets out a little groan, partly because the muscle hurts a little, but also to see if there is any reaction.

The reaction is subtle, but it's there. His breathing has sped up, and his hands even seem to be trembling a little. She lets out a couple more little sighs just when his hands are nearest to her hips, a quiet encouragement. She rests her fingers over the end of the massage table above her head, and his legs push against them as he strokes down her back. Every time his hands get to the base of her spine, he's bent over very close and she enjoys the sensation. Boldly, she stretches her fingers slightly, rubbing them subtly against the front of his thighs.

Matt wides his stance slightly, lowering his hips a little. It means he can put more pressure into his strokes, but Mel is pretty sure that's not why he's moved... her fingers can now feel his cock through his track pants. She can feel him gently rocking his hips, rubbing himself on her fingers as his hands stroke deep onto her lower back.

Mel moans quietly, and is slightly disappointed when Matt moves around the side of the table, taking himself out of the reach of her fingers. Her disappointment doesn't last though, as his powerful hands really start to focus on her lower back. "If it's alright, I'm going to pull these down to get to the lowest parts of your back" he says with a slight hitch in his voice. "Mmmm" she murmurs, and his fingers find their way to the hem of her pants and start sliding them down.

Mel knew she was planning on coming over today, and changed into her favourite pair of lacy undies "just in case" before she left work. She smiles to herself when she feels him hesitate ever so slightly as the pants come down far enough to expose the top of her bum. Matt sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and pretends to adjust the pants some more, but she knows its just an excuse to touch the lingerie he's just discovered.

More oil goes on his hands, and he starts some firm strokes from her tailbone out towards her hip. The strong fingers glide down over her waist, gripping her hip firmly before returning to the middle. He does this for a few minutes on both sides as all the muscles and nerves around her hips, thighs, and waist try to work out if this is relaxing or invigorating. Her pussy certainly isn't relaxed and she starts to feel a familiar tender, warm sensation.

Matt moves to stand at the end of the table. His legs are now touching her toes which hang just over the end of the padding, and she not-very-sneakily wiggles them in between his thighs. "My toes are cold" she says cheekily, and he laughs, and leans forward. The length of his semi-hard cock is now pretty much resting on the soles of her feet. He reaches up and she feels his fingers run along the top of those undies, before he slowly pulls them down. At first she thinks he's just moving them a little, and she lets out a slight gasp as he slowly pull them, and her pants, all the way to the top of her legs. Her whole bum is now bare, with no warning or permission asked. She knows that now is the time she should stop him. This is the point at which she should object, and go home to Bob... but she doesn't. The tense moment passes. "Are you ok?" He asks, his fingers still curled around the hem of her panties. Without a word, she nods into the table's face hole, and hears him let out a long breath.

He drip some oil directly on her lower back, and she gasps at the coldness, but before she get the chance to complain, he starts to work his hands and fingers on the lowest parts of her back. His hands, covered in oil, rub her tenderly, and she knows that if anyone was to walk in now, there would be no mistake or excuse about how he's touching her. It's exciting - she shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be doing this, and she should be telling him no.

After a few minutes of gluteal tissue massage, his fingers curl around both of her hips at the same time. His thumbs make long curved strokes along her butt and waistline as his fingers hold the tender, sensual spots on the front of her hips. She knows this is exactly how he'd be holding her hips if he was taking her from behind, and she can't help but imagine that feeling. A soft moan escapes her lips before she can stop it.

"This oil is going to get on your clothes" he says, and before she can think of any response, his confident hands start slowly pulling her pants and undies off. She lifts her hips off the table breathlessly says "Ohhh... yes". The pants come off and he drops them on the floor. She's now completely naked on the table, but somehow it doesn't feel wrong. He pours more oil on her butt and legs, and again puts his hands all over parts of her only Bob should be touching. "Fat chance" she thinks as a moment of bitterness intrudes on her thoughts. The only time he touches her now is when he's been flirting with that slut from work, and wants someone to fuck while imagining it's her. No foreplay, no thought for what Mel wants, just a demand, a couple of minutes of selfish use, and a mess to clean up.

Matt's hands intrude on her thoughts and she comes back to the here and now. This man knows how to touch her, and doesnt see her as an object or housemaid. She moves her hips slightly, and parts her legs - just a little - to allow him to massage long strokes up the backs of her legs and inner thighs. All other thoughts fade as his hands start to run all the way up her legs and the tips of his fingers brush the soft hair around her pussy lips. Matt has moved around the side of the table, and soon his hands are gliding smoothly around her upper thighs

Mel moves her hands back down to her sides, the fingers of her left hand now touching the front of Matt's track pants. Emboldened by his hands now having free access to the most private parts of her, she strokes his cock through his pants. In response, the fingers of his right hand find their way onto her pussy, and begin rubbing softly up and down. She moans again and moves her legs further apart. He needs no further encouragement, and with a movement that seems like second nature, two of his fingers slide smoothly down between her lips, find her clit, and start small, gentle, circular motions.

The heat coming from his hands, the oil, and her body are all she can concentrate on now. He seems to have clocked the exact rhythm her body responds to, and she feels some early tremors already. "No, no, too quick" she panics, and tries to distract herself. Her left hand quests out for his pants again, and her fingers grab the soft fabric. She hooks two fingers around the waistband and tugs them down. Then the pants are gone and her eager fingers reach across to find what they are after.

Now, with his fingers stroking and rubbing between her wet lips and across her clit, her left hand finds and wraps itself around his warm, thick cock. She gently strokes up and down, but the angle of her arm and hand makes it awkward. Still, the response is immediate as Matt lets out a gasp and she feels him start to stiffen and pulse.

Mel arches her back, lifting her hips clear of the table. Matt wastes no time and encourages her up into a doggy-style position. Now his fingers have completely unobstructed access, and he moves them in, out, and around in rhythmic motions. Mel's hand is still holding his now-throbbing cock, and again she pictures it sliding into her. His left hand is rubbing her lower back and around her hip, and he turns his right hand, two fingers inside Mel, like a key in a lock. Now two fingers are sliding deep into her, and his thumb has taken over stimulating her clit. The tips of his fingers are gently rubbing inside her in a way that is driving her wild. He curls his two fingers slightly, and they find her g-spot. Combined with the stimulation her clit is getting from his thumb, the effect is almost immediate. She lets out a loud "OHH!", and she can't stop herself - muscles contract, her stomach clenches, her hips buck, and she orgasms. For a few seconds, that explosion is the only thing she knows. Everything else is gone from her mind.

Matt reaches over and turns the music up as she gasps loudly again, her pelvis spasming and twitching in response to the light pressure from his fingers and thumb, triggering every nerve ending. It's her first orgasm in months, and it's been many years since she's orgasmed because of someone else's touch.

As the orgasm subsides, and her breathing returns to normal, Matt gently guides her hips back down to the table, and he walks away. It seems the fun is over. Slightly resigned, she gets ready to get off the table, but then he's back, and whispers in her ear "Turn over, we're not done yet".

Mel rolls over and gets her first real look at Matt. He's taken his shirt off, and she takes in his chest, and the abs still there despite a few extra kilos. He's smiling, clearly happy he's been able to get such an unmistakable response from her. She leans up on her elbows, and sees his eyes hungrily look over her entire body. This is the first time they've been completely naked together. Sure, over the years there have been glimpses through open doors of one or the other getting changed, occasional drunk, flirty boob flashes, and glances through tent flaps on camping trips, but this is very different. Somehow, there's no shame. They look at each other and both know this is right, even if it's wrong.

Mel, like many women, has always been a little self conscious about her body, but judging by the look on Matt's face, she shouldn't be. He reaches over, grabs the oil, and adds more to his hands. She lies back and moves her right hand to the edge of the table. As he applies oil to her belly and chest, she takes his cock in her hand. This angle is much more natural, and she's able to get a good grip. She brushes her fingers in the oil on her belly and delicately wipes it on his cock. Slowly, she starts to stroke it, and runs her thumb over the end. It comes away wet, and Matt shudders slightly as she rub the tip.

She tilts her head back as his hand starts to rub oil over her right breast, fingers sliding over the nipple. She closes her eyes and sighs, and he gently tweaks the nipple between thumb and finger. She senses him lean over her, and feels his mouth on her other breast as he gently kisses and nibbles. His tongue flicks lazy circles around her nipple as his left hand works the other one in a very similar way. She shudders and takes a deep breath as this new wave of pleasure rolls over her.

She tries to focus as he continues to tease, kiss, and stroke her breasts, focusing on the nipples but not neglecting any part of her. Her hand is still filled with his cock, and she smiles at the way it pulses when she strokes it. She starts to work up a good rhythm, but gets distracted by how amazing his mouth feels. She moans, and slowly starts to grind her hips again. Matt takes the cue - he takes his lips off her and starts to climb up onto the table.

Before he's done more than get his knees up on the side of the table, Mel grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in hungrily for a kiss. His left hand finds her breast, and uses the other hand to hold himself up. His mouth meets hers, and they kiss deeply for a few seconds. Tongues explore each other the same way his was moving on her body a few seconds ago, until they break the kiss to catch a breath. He kisses her neck, and nibbles her earlobe. Then, slowly, his lips trace a snaking line of kisses back down her chest. His tongue again flicks around her nipple and he gently takes it between his teeth. He climbs over, and she spreads her legs. "Oh, fuck.... this is it" she thinks to herself, but instead of finding herself full of doubt, she knows this is exactly what she wants.

She opens here eyes and arches her hips forward in anticipation, and grabs his cock to guide it to her pussy. He moves his hips closer, but just as the tip touches her lips and she takes a deep breath, instead of sliding in, Matt pulls his hips back again. Eyes flashing angrily, she looks at him, but he's grinning, and then starts kissing his way slowly down her stomach, and onto soft the mound just above her pussy. She laughs, then gasps and puts both of her hands on the back of his head as he opens his mouth and blows gently into the small tangle of dark hair there. He moves, planting little gentle kisses all over her mound, then to her right hip, across the top of her leg, and back towards her pussy.

As his mouth reaches the soft curly hairs, and Mel eagerly turns her hips and guides his head towards the hungriest part of her, Matt again kisses over the mound and this time up to her left hip bone, tickling her skin with his lips. Every part of her wants him now, and her toes are curled up in expectation. Slowly, he kisses his way down the valley of her hip, and then gently, teasingly, she feels his mouth start to explore her, almost hungrily. His tongue licks left and right, and finally, after tasting every other inch of her, his tongue dives in and rolls over her clitoris and down.

Another load moan, and her fingers curl and grip his hair as he glides the tip of his tongue over and around her clit. He uses his whole mouth - his lips nibbling her clit, and his tongue slowly building in speed and intensity, while his thumbs trace small circles around her hip bones. It feels like magic is being worked between her thighs. He takes his guide from her rocking hips, the hands clutching his head, and the gasping of her breath. No part of her is ignored. Over the next few minutes, every inch of her is thoroughly licked, kissed, nuzzled and caressed as his mouth brings her to a second, more powerful orgasm. It seems to go on forever. Matt holds her firmly, and his tongue stays on her clit the entire time. Mel's stomach muscles, legs, and back all shake uncontrollably as the orgasm slowly subsides and his tongue stops moving. His face is still between her legs, her hands on his head, both feeling the last few shakes as he listens to her shaky breathing change to a deep panting. She gasps and twitches again as he gives her one more lick with his tongue.

Mel lays there, eyes closed, trying to gather herself, when she feels Matt lift his head. A gentle kiss on the right side of her stomach, another kiss on her left nipple, and as she opens here eyes, his face is right there as his rock hard cock slides easily into her soaking wet pussy. She gasps, one hand clutching his hair and the fingernails of the other digging straight into the muscles on his back as she pulls him down onto her. His hips hold back though, the head of his cock just inside her. He can feel the muscles of her vagina desperately clutching as she strains her hips up to get him deeper.

Slowly, controlled, he thrusts, in and out, but never deeper than halfway. It drives her wild that she can't get all of him, and she pushes her hips at him and wraps her legs around his waist, pulling at him with every muscle. Even with all her strength, he still holds back and with a grin, he slides in... still no more than halfway. Slowly, so slowly, he thrusts in and out, the rhythm gradually building, and she growls in his ear in frustration while her fingernails score deep lines in his back. The thick head of his cock is edging her, rubbing the entry to her pussy, but she has a craving deep inside her that needs release.

Then, deliberately slowly, savouring every second as he pushes forward all the way, his full length plunges inside her. He groans almost as loud as she does as their hips connect. There's no more space between their bodies. Her arms are now wrapped tightly around his neck, and their hips grind together. She holds him close and her breath comes in short bursts as her entire body focuses on this overwhelming sensation. A few dozen deep, rhythmic thrusts and they have their tempo worked out. She feels that familiar fire building up inside her again, and she clutches him even tighter. She tries to take in the entire experience of their bodies touching, because its been so, so long since she's felt anything like this level of passion. This is not the quick, almost violent ramming she's grown used to, but an all-over connection, heightened by the oil and heat. She feels him deep inside her, their bellies touching and sliding as they thrust together in time. His legs rubbing the inside of her thighs, her feet hooked around him as she locks him in place, his chest pressed to her breasts, the oil and sweat tingling as her still-sensitive nipples rub against his skin.

Warm, deeply satisfied, and above all, happy, she loosens her embrace, letting him up slightly. She touches him, her hands and fingers now gently tracing lines on his back, ribs, and chest as they continue to rock in time. She opens her eyes and gently kisses the side of his neck. He's holding himself up with one hand while the other strokes around her breast, again gently rolling your nipple. She looks up, tilting her head back to look at his face. He looks down at her and smiles. It's a genuine smile, a mix of pleasure and satisfaction at being with her after so many years of wanting and waiting. Still rhythmically driving himself deep into her, he bends down and kisses her deeply again, and she hopes she can keep herself from screaming, because someone is bound to hear her the next time she orgasms... and she feels it getting closer.

Without slowing his pace, Matt slowly raises himself further off her, and looks at her again. Oil-covered, glistening skin, he's making sure this view is forever burned into his memory. He knows he'll be thinking of this exact view again and again in the years to come.

She puts her hands on his chest, and he raises himself upright. She unhook her legs from his lower back and lifts them. He grab her ankles and kisses one of her feet. He holds her legs up and pushes them up slightly, again changing the angle his rock-hard cock slides into her, rubbing the front wall of her vagina, right where his fingers released her first orgasm. As the tip of his cock starts to slide up against her g-spot, in and out, again and again, the build up is deep, fast, and intense. She knows what's coming.

The third orgasm hits her with an intensity she's not prepared for, and she buries her face into his neck and screams. She can't stifle it herself. Again and again, bursts of electricity radiating out from her belly shake her body and the yell turns into a long, low moan. The spasms of her clenched muscles grip Matt's cock tightly, and before he has the chance to do anything except gasp, his own orgasm hits him. Instead of doing the sensible thing and pulling out, instinct and desire override logic, and every muscle in his body drives him deeper inside Mel as he cums. Still thrusting, still clutching each other, their orgasms fuel the other's, and it seems to take forever for them to ease. He collapses on her as his cock slowly stops pumping. She put her arms around him, and they kiss and take a minute to catch their breath.

No words are needed as he helps her off the table and they walk to the ensuite. Luckily, the shower is big enough for two. They soap up, his hands straying to her body again, but they both know there's no more time. Another long, passionate kiss as the hot water streams down their bodies, and he steps out to dry off. He takes those moments to appreciate the view of her, naked and wet in the shower. He puts his clothes back on, puts the massage table away, and throws the towels into the washing machine. As he walks back out of the laundry, she's herding her kids out of the house and to the car. He stands in the doorway in the late afternoon sun, enjoying the heat from the day, and the feelings and images burned into his memory. He catches her eye as she starts the car and backs out of the driveway. A smile and a knowing nod, and she's gone.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep, and hopes she comes again soon.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.

The voices from the living room were muffled through the wall, but I could still make out the shape of them. Laughter. Bottles clinking. Ryan's easy voice among the rest.

I told myself to lie down. To close my eyes. To let them have their night.

But my feet did not move.

The compliments were still in my head, looping. Your wife is hotter than mine. She still has it. You're lucky, man.

I shouldnt have liked hearing that. I was married. To Ryan. These were his friends. And yet the warm thing low in my stomach had not gone away. If anything it had gotten heavier, the way heat sits in a room after the sun goes down.

Without really deciding to, I stood. I crossed the bedroom quiet and pressed my ear to the door.

I didnt open it. I just listened.

".....nah, I'm serious" one of them said. "Sienna's got that look. You know the one. Like she takes care of herself but she's not trying too hard. That's rare, man"

Another laughed. "Ryan probably doesn't even realize half of us are jealous. Lucky fool"

"My wife hasn't looked like that in years" someone else said. "Not since the kids. Sienna still moves like she's comfortable in her skin. That's what gets me."

Ryan's voice came through, lazy with drink. "She works hard. Always has. Keeps her in shape."

"Keeps her in shape" Marco repeated, and I knew he was grinning. "Bro, you married a ten. We all see it. We're just polite about it"

More laughter. Then a quieter voice, like someone had leaned in.

"I ever tell you guys, I saw her at the mall once. Alone. She was laughing at something on her phone, just walking. I almost said hi. Then I remembered, nah, that's Ryan's wife, keep it moving. But man. She looked good just......living"

My face felt hot. They talked about me like I was a thing on a shelf they all noticed but none of them touched. And the worst part was the small, shameful flicker that I liked being the thing.

Ryan said. "Never gives me grief. Cooks sometimes. Lets me have my nights."

"Yeah well" Marco said "you keep her happy or the rest of us are gonna start lining up."

They laughed at that. Even Ryan.

I pressed my palm flat against the door. My heart was beating faster now, not from fear. From something else. Something that sat low and warm and a little wrong.

They thought I was out of reach. Polite. Untouchable. Ryan's wife.

But they had looked. They had noticed. And Ryan, my safe and steady husband, had laughed when they said they'd line up.

I stepped back from the door and sat on the bed again. I pulled my knees up. I should have felt insulted. Should have felt angry that his friends talked about me like that.

Instead I felt seen.

And I didnt know what to do with that

I put the last towel on the shelf and pressed my fingers against my palm. My hands were still a little sore from work. Five appointments in a row always left them like that. I didn’t complain though. I liked my job. Being a masseuse kept me busy and kept my body moving.

I then went home

I walked into the bedroom and changed out of my work clothes. I put on a pair of soft shorts and a loose shirt. When I passed the mirror, I stopped for a second. At 34, I still looked good. My body was soft in the places men usually liked, but firm from being on my feet most of the day. I tied my hair back and left the room.

Ryan was on the couch in the living room. The TV was on, but he was mostly looking at his phone. When he noticed me, he gave a small smile.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Same as usual” I said. “Five clients back to back. My hands are tired”

He reached out when I walked past and lightly squeezed my wrist. “I can rub them later if you want”

I gave him a small smile back. Our marriage was comfortable. We had been together for almost nine years and married for six. The sex was decent. Not boring, but not wild either. We knew each other’s bodies. It was familiar and safe.

I sat down on the other side of the couch and pulled my legs up. Ryan put his phone down for a moment.

“The guys are coming over later” he said. “Just for a few drinks. Nothing big”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay out of the way”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to. They like you”

I didn’t say anything to that. Ryan’s friends were polite whenever they came over. They always greeted me nicely and kept the conversations light when I was in the room. Still, I usually let them have their space. It was easier that way.

A couple of hours later, the doorbell rang. Ryan got up to open it. I stayed in the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water. I could hear the familiar voices of his friends as they came inside. Laughter followed. The sound of bottles clinking. Someone made a joke I couldn’t fully hear.

I leaned against the counter and listened for a moment. Their voices were loud but friendly. After a while, I decided to grab a snack from the pantry near the living room. I wasn’t trying to listen. I just happened to walk close enough.

That was when I heard my name.

I stopped.

One of them was talking about me. I couldn’t hear every word at first, but then the sentences became clearer.

“I’m telling you, Ryan, your wife is hotter than mine, you lucky fool”

Another voice laughed. “Mine too. My wife doesn’t even touch me anymore. Once the money started coming in, it was like she turned into a roommate”

Someone else added “Not gonna lie, Sienna still looks really good......really good. You’re lucky, man”

I stood still in the hallway, just out of sight. My face felt warm. I wasn’t supposed to hear this. I should have walked away. But my feet didn’t move.

Ryan said something back, but I didn’t catch it clearly. The compliments kept coming in different forms. My body. My looks. How I still had it compared to their wives.

A strange feeling settled low in my stomach. It wasn’t just embarrassment. There was something else mixed with it. Something warmer. My thighs pressed together slightly without me thinking about it.

I quietly stepped back before any of them could notice I was there. I walked to the bedroom and closed the door behind me. My heart was still beating a little faster than normal.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor

They were just drinking and talking. Men said dumb things when they were together. I knew that.

But the compliments stayed in my head anyway.

And for some reason, they made me feel something.......

I never planned on fucking my best friend’s dad.

He was forty four. I was twenty eight. Respectable. The kind of man who always kept his distance and looked at me like he was trying not to.

But that night I went over to “check on him.”

I wore a thin white tank top with nothing underneath and tiny black shorts that barely covered my ass. My nipples were already hard from the cold when he opened the door. I saw his eyes drop. Just for a second. Then he forced them back up.

I sat on the couch next to him, thighs pressed against his, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body. I smelled his cologne mixed with something darker… something restrained.

“You’ve been alone too long, Mr. Hale,” I said softly, looking straight into his eyes. “It shows.”

He told me to be careful. Told me I didn’t know what I was playing with.

I just smiled and climbed into his lap like I belonged there. Straddled him. Settled my weight right on his cock. He was already half-hard, and the second my soft, warm pussy pressed against him through those tiny shorts, I felt him get fully hard under me.

I rocked my hips once. Deliberately. Slow.

“Fuck…” I whispered against his ear. “You’re bigger than I imagined.”

His hands gripped my waist hard enough to bruise. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little girl.”I leaned in, lips brushing his ear, and let the word slip out like a secret.

“Then punish me for it… Sir.”

That word broke him.

He yanked my tank top up and over my head in one rough motion. My tits spilled free — full, heavy, pink nipples already tight and begging. He didn’t kiss me first. He sucked one into his mouth hard, biting just enough to make me gasp, while his hand shoved down the front of my shorts.

I was soaked. Dripping. His thick fingers slid through my slick folds and I moaned against his hair.

“You’ve been thinking about this,” he muttered, rubbing slow circles over my clit. “Walking around in that little outfit, hoping I’d finally snap.”

I nodded, breathless, grinding down on his hand.

“Yes, Sir… I’ve been touching myself thinking about your hands. Your mouth. That thick cock I can feel under me right now.”

He growled and flipped me onto my back on the couch. Pulled my shorts and panties off in one tug. Spread my thighs wide and just looked at me for a long second wet, pink, and completely open for him.

Then he lowered his head and licked a slow, filthy stripe from my entrance up to my clit.

My back arched. My hands flew into his hair.

“Fuck… don’t tease,” I whispered.

He looked up at me, lips already shiny, voice dark and low.

“I’ll tease you as long as I want, baby girl. And you’re going to take it.”

He went back down and started eating me like a man who hadn’t touched a woman in years — slow, deep, hungry. Two thick fingers pushed inside me while his tongue worked my clit in tight circles. I was already shaking.

“Sir… please…”

He didn’t stop. He just kept going until my thighs were trembling around his head and I was right on the edge.

Then he pulled away.

I whimpered. Actually whimpered.

He stood up, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his cock out. Thick. Heavy. Veined. Already leaking at the tip.

He stroked it once while looking down at me. “Beg for it.”

I spread my legs wider, reached down and opened myself with my fingers, staring up at him with glassy eyes.

“Please, Sir… fuck me. Stretch me open with that big cock. I need it so bad…”

He climbed over me, rubbed the thick head up and down my soaked slit, and paused right at my entrance. “Once I put it in,” he said quietly, “you’re mine tonight. Understand?”

I nodded, breathless.

“Yes, Sir. I’m yours.”

He pushed in slow, deep, and relentless until every thick inch was buried inside me and I was gasping around the stretch.

And that was only the beginning…..

—
Thanks for reading, let me know if you want more chapters!

The next morning felt heavier than the ones before it.

I woke up before Mike. For a few minutes I just lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying everything from the night before. The way she had crawled out from under the bed. The look she gave me before slipping into the hallway. And most of all, Mike’s words that kept looping in my head.

“Just…...be careful around my mom, man. She’s crazy. You don’t know the kind of stuff she’s done before”

I had never thought about her that way until he said it. Up until last night, everything between us had felt intense and specific. Like it was something that only existed between me and her. But now I couldn’t stop wondering if I was just repeating something that had already happened before.

Mike eventually moved and got up. He didn’t say much. He just grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom. When he came out, he looked at me for a second longer than usual before heading to the living area.

I followed a few minutes later.

Mrs. Thompson was already in the kitchen area making coffee. Mr. Thompson sat at the table scrolling through his phone. On the surface, everything looked normal. But when she turned and saw me, her eyes lingered for a moment. There was still heat in them. Still that same pull.

This time, though, I felt something else alongside it.

Doubt.

“Morning” she said softly.

“Morning” I replied.

Her voice was careful, the same way it had been for the last few days whenever Mike was nearby. She poured coffee into a mug and set it down near me without making it obvious. When her fingers brushed the side of the cup, they were close enough that I could have touched them. I didn’t.

Mike sat down across from me. His eyes moved between his mom and me the way they had been doing for days, still searching for something. I kept my face neutral and focused on the coffee.

Breakfast was quiet. Mr. Thompson talked a little about the drive home and what time we should leave tomorrow. Mike gave short answers. Mrs. Thompson mostly nodded and stirred her coffee even after it didn’t need stirring anymore.

At one point she stood up to grab something from the counter behind me. As she passed, her hip lightly brushed my shoulder. The contact was small, but it still sent a spark through me. At the same time, Mike’s words surfaced again in my head, cutting through the heat.

"She’s crazy. You don’t know the kind of stuff she’s done before”

I didn’t look at her when she sat back down.

Later, when Mr. Thompson stepped out onto the balcony to take a call, the room went quieter. Mike leaned back in his chair and glanced at his mom.

“You okay?” he asked her. “You’ve been quiet”

She forced a small smile. “Just tired. Ready to go home, I guess.”

Mike looked at her for a second, then looked at me. I kept my expression blank. After a moment he stood up and muttered something about getting his charger from the room. When he left, the silence between me and Mrs. Thompson stretched out.

She spoke first, her voice low.

“You were quiet this morning.”

“Just thinking” I said.

She watched me carefully. “About last night?”

I nodded once.

Her eyes softened a little, but before she could say anything else, Mike’s footsteps returned down the hallway. She immediately looked down at her coffee again. The moment closed just like that.

The rest of the day moved slowly. Packing started in small ways, clothes folded, chargers collected, bags pulled out from under the beds. Every time Mrs. Thompson and I ended up in the same space, the pull was still there. I still wanted her. My body still reacted to the memory of how she felt around me. But now there was a question sitting underneath it all that I couldn’t ignore.

Had she done this before?

And if she had…..what exactly had Mike seen?

By the time evening came, the hotel room felt smaller than it had at the beginning of the trip. Tomorrow we would leave. The secret would go with us. But the doubt Mike had planted in my head was already coming home with me

Mike’s breathing stayed deep and steady.
I waited longer than I needed to, just to be sure. Every few seconds I listened for any change in his rhythm. When nothing changed, I slowly moved my hand down the side of the bed and tapped the floor twice with my fingers.

Under the bed, Mrs. Thompson carefully began to move. I heard the soft sound of her bare skin brushing against the floor as she started to crawl out. She moved very slowly, inch by inch, trying not to let her knees or elbows make any noise. First her head appeared, then her shoulders. She looked up at me in the dark with wide eyes, still completely naked. Her hair was messy

She continued sliding out until her whole body was free from under the bed. For a few seconds she stayed low on the floor beside me, listening carefully. Mike didn’t move. His breathing stayed even.

She reached for her robe, which had been left near the foot of the bed. Her hands were slightly shaky as she picked it up and slipped it on. She tied the belt around her waist as quietly as she could. I could still see a thin line of my cum on the inside of her thigh before she pulled the robe closed. She wiped it quickly with the fabric, then looked at me again.

I pointed toward the door.

She nodded once.

She stood up very slowly and began walking across the room. Each step was careful and controlled. She avoided the spots on the floor that usually creaked. When she reached the door, she stopped and listened one more time. Then she opened the door just wide enough to slip through. Before she disappeared into the hallway, she looked back at me for half a second. Her expression was hard to read in the dark, a mix of relief, leftover desire, and something else.

She closed the door behind her with almost no sound.

I stayed completely still afterward, listening.
No footsteps. No voices. No movement from Mike’s bed.

After a full minute, I finally let out a long breath and stared up at the ceiling.

My mind went straight back to what Mike had said earlier that night.

“Just…...be careful around my mom, man. She’s crazy. You don’t know the kind of stuff she’s done before”

The words sat heavy in my head and refused to leave.

Up until now, everything between me and Mrs. Thompson had felt intense and specific to us. I had focused on how neglected she seemed with her husband, how strongly she reacted to me, how risky and addictive the whole thing had become. But Mike’s voice kept replaying in my mind. The way he said it didn’t sound like a joke or random frustration. It sounded like he was remembering something real.

Had she done this before?

Had there been someone else?

Another younger guy?

Someone she got too close to, the same way she got close to me?

I turned onto my side and faced the wall. The sheets still smelled like her skin and sex. My body still remembered how tight she felt when she came around me. The memory alone was enough to make my cock twitch again. But now there was something else mixed in with the heat, a low, uncomfortable doubt that hadn’t been there before.

Maybe I wasn’t special to her. Maybe I was just the next person who paid attention when she felt ignored. Maybe this pattern had happened already, and Mike had seen the damage it caused.

I closed my eyes and tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming back. Outside in the hallway, Mrs. Thompson was walking back to the room she shared with her husband, still carrying my cum inside her. And I was left alone in the dark with Mike’s warning repeating in my head, wondering what exactly she had done in the past and whether I was making the same mistake someone else had already made.

Sleep didn’t come easy after that...... I wonder what he means by that

Mike sat on his bed with his phone, scrolling like he had no plan of sleeping anytime soon. The soft light from the screen lit up part of his face. The rest of the room stayed dark and quiet.

Under my bed, Mrs. Thompson didn’t move at all. She was completely naked, knees pulled in, trying to take up as little space as possible. My cum was still slowly leaking out of her and onto the floor beneath her. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t stretch. Even breathing too loudly was a risk.

I lay under the blanket, staring at the ceiling, forcing my chest to rise and fall like I was calm. My heart was still beating too fast. Every small movement Mike made made my stomach tighten. If he dropped his phone, or leaned over, or decided to look for something under the beds, everything would collapse.

A few minutes passed in silence.

Then Mike spoke without looking at me.

“You notice my mom’s been acting weird this trip?”

I kept my voice steady “Weird how?”

He kept scrolling for a second before answering.

“A lot of little things. The way she looks at you sometimes. Like she’s thinking about something else. And she gets nervous for no reason. Playing with her towel, avoiding eye contact, stuff like that.....”

I stayed quiet.

Mike continued.

“And the other night…...when I woke up and she was in here. That still feels off. She said she heard something, but it didn’t sit right. Then at breakfast she jumped in so fast to cover for you. It felt rehearsed”

He paused for a moment, then added,

“Is she telling you something about her and dad? is she telling their problems?”

Under the bed, I could almost feel her freeze even more.

“Maybe she’s just stressed” I said carefully. “Or tired. It’s been a long trip....”

“Just…...be careful around my mom, man. She’s crazy. You don’t know the kind of stuff she’s done before”

The way he said it was flat, but there was something heavier underneath. Like he was remembering things he didn’t want to explain.

I didn’t answer right away.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Mike shook his head once.

“Nothing. Forget it. Just watch yourself.....”

Mike finally put his phone down on his chest and stared up at the ceiling.

The silence after that felt heavier.

I could hear Mrs. Thompson under the bed trying to keep her breathing silent. My own body was starting to feel stiff from not moving. The smell of sex was still faint in the room. I prayed Mike wouldn’t notice it.

More time passed. Mike picked his phone back up, scrolled for a while longer, then locked it and set it on the side table. He yawned once, rubbed his face, and turned onto his side, facing away from me.

“I’m gonna try to sleep” he muttered

I didn’t answer.

I just listened.

A few minutes later his breathing started to slow. Then it got deeper and more even. The kind of breathing that meant he was actually drifting off.

I still waited.

Only when I was sure he was fully out did I slowly move my hand down the side of the bed and tap the floor once with my fingers.

A couple of seconds later, I felt her hand carefully touch mine from underneath.

She was still there.

Still naked.

Still stuck.

And we still had to get her out without waking him