Last Friday morning, I drove to Maureen's my heart pounding with anticipation as I approached her street. I parked my car a few houses down, out of sight, and waited in the driver's seat, eyes fixed on their driveway. Alan's car sat there, engine rumbling to life soon after. He backed out slowly, glancing at the house before speeding off to work, oblivious to the fire he left behind. Once his taillights vanished around the corner, I slipped out of my car and walked casually toward their home, pulse racing.
Maureen peeked through the curtains, her signal clear, and I darted to the front. She opened the door just enough, her hand grabbing mine to pull me inside under the thick cover of the front bushes that shielded us from prying eyes. The branches scratched lightly against my arms as we huddled close, her breath warm on my neck. She wore my favorite black silky dressing gown, the fabric clinging to her curves, and I knew from the way it draped loosely that nothing hid beneath it.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, I pressed her against the wall in the entryway, our lips crashing together in a deep, hungry kiss. My fingers tangled in her soft blonde hair, twisting the strands gently as our tongues danced, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She moaned softly into the kiss, her body arching toward mine, hands roaming over my chest to yank at my shirt.
She led me upstairs, her hand firm in mine, the stairs creaking under our hurried steps. We reached the marital bedroom, our secret sanctuary, the safe haven where we built our illicit love nest amid the scent of their everyday life. The bed loomed large, sheets neatly made, Alan's pillow fluffed at the head. Maureen turned to me, eyes dark with desire, and we kissed again, fiercer this time, my hands sliding down to untie her gown. The silk parted easily, revealing her full breasts, hardened nipples begging for touch, and the smooth expanse of her stomach leading to the trimmed patch above her pussy.
I stripped off my shirt, then my pants, my cock springing free, already hard and throbbing for her. She dropped the gown to the floor, naked and radiant, and pushed me back toward the bed. We tumbled onto the mattress, lips locked, bodies grinding as I peeled away the last of my clothes. Her mouth trailed down my neck, sucking at my skin, then lower to my chest, teasing my nipples with her tongue before descending to my cock.
She wrapped her lips around the head, sucking deeply, her tongue swirling along the shaft as she took me in inch by inch. I groaned, fingers in her hair again, guiding her rhythm as she bobbed, saliva coating my length, her cheeks hollowing with each pull. The wet sounds filled the room, her moans vibrating against me, driving me wild. I couldn't hold back long; I pulled her up, flipping her onto her back, and buried my face between her thighs.
Her pussy glistened, slick with arousal, and I licked her folds hungrily, tongue flicking her clit before plunging inside. She bucked against my mouth, legs spreading wide, her hands clutching the sheets as I sucked her swollen nub, fingers sliding into her wetness to curl against her walls. Her taste flooded my senses, tangy and addictive, and she writhed, hips grinding as her first orgasm built.
We shifted, positioning ourselves under Alan's pillow, the soft fabric brushing our skin like a twisted crown. I rose over her, cock nudging her entrance, and thrust in deep, filling her completely. She screamed, nails raking my back, as I fucked her relentlessly, pounding into her pussy with long, hard strokes. The bed shook, our bodies slapping together, her moans turning to wild cries that echoed off the walls. I gripped her hips, driving deeper, her walls clenching around me, milking my cock as sweat slicked our skin. I took a moment to savour her sexy feet and toes. Sucking and licking at them as Maureen gave her approval.
She screamed louder, body trembling, and I felt her cum, juices flooding around me. I kept thrusting, relentless, until my own release hit, burying myself to the hilt as I creampied her, hot spurts of cum filling her pussy. We stayed locked, my seed and her wetness mixing, dripping out to soak Alan's pillow beneath her staining the fabric where he laid his face each night.
She looked up at me, breathless, and whispered how her husband could never fuck her like I did, his touch pale compared to the fire we ignited. We rested then, bodies entwined, kissing softly, my lips brushing her forehead, her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. Her hand stroked my chest, tracing lazy circles, as our breathing slowed.
Desire reignited quickly, and I rolled her onto her side, still under that pillow, sliding back into her cum-slicked pussy from behind. I fucked her slower at first, building the pace, one hand cupping her breast, pinching her nipple, the other rubbing her clit. She moaned deeply, pushing back against me, her ass pressing into my hips with each thrust. The room filled with our sounds again—wet slaps, her escalating screams—as I hammered harder, chasing another peak.
She came first, pussy spasming around my cock, and I followed, groaning as I creampied her once more, pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside. It overflowed, trickling down her thighs and onto the pillow, leaving a fresh wet spot where Alan rested unaware.
Afterward, we lay tangled, making plans in hushed tones for Monday night, when Alan would be at the West Ham Crystal Palace game, leaving us hours to lose ourselves again in our sanctuary.
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