Pounding Maureen as Alan's West Hame gets relegated 🙂

I sat in my car just around the corner from her house, engine off, windows cracked to let in the warm bank holiday air. The clock on the dashboard read eleven fifty-seven. I watched the street through the rearview mirror, heart thumping with that familiar rush of anticipation. Alan would be leaving soon for the train station, off to watch West Ham play their final match of the season with his mates. I knew his routine as well as she did. The game kicked off at 4pm, but he always left early for a pint before the match.

At 12pm exactly I saw him walk out the front door, blue and claret scarf around his neck, that stupid hat pulled low. He kissed Maureen on the door step then he strode off down the pavement toward the station. Unbeknownst to him that I would be laying siege to his wife and pounding her brains out all afternoon.

I waited another five minutes to be sure, my hands gripping the steering wheel, watching the seconds tick by on my phone.

Then I moved.

Quick steps, head down, trying not to draw attention from any neighbours tending their gardens on this lazy holiday afternoon. I reached her front door, gave three short knocks. The door swung open almost immediately. Maureen stood there in her dressing gown, thin silk that clung to the curves of her hips and breasts. Her hair was loose, blonde waves falling over her shoulders. She smiled, that knowing smile that always made my cock twitch.

I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and we crashed together. Her mouth met mine, hungry and wet, tongues sliding. Her hands went to my waist, pulling me against her, and I felt the heat of her body through the thin fabric. I cupped her face, kissed her deeper, tasting the faint sweetness of the tea she must have been drinking. She moaned into my mouth, a soft breathy sound that vibrated through me.

We broke apart long enough for her to take my hand and lead me upstairs. She’d already set out two glasses of cold water on the landing table, ice cubes clinking. I grabbed them, and we walked into the marital bedroom.

The bed was made, white sheets crisp, pillows fluffed. Alan’s side, the left, had a dent in the pillow from his head. I set the drinks on the nightstand, and Maureen turned to me, her fingers already working the knot of my jeans. I tugged at the sash of her dressing gown, and it fell open, revealing her naked body underneath. She’d planned this, no underwear, just her smooth skin, the triangle of dark hair between her legs already glistening.

We kissed again, deeper this time, my hands tracing down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing. She whimpered, pressing her hips against my crotch. I pulled my shirt off over my head, and she ran her nails down my chest, making me hiss. Then my jeans and boxers were gone, and we were both naked, the afternoon sun slanting through the curtains casting warm stripes across the bed.

I guided her onto the mattress, laid her back, and knelt between her thighs. Her breasts were full, nipples hard, and I leaned down to take one in my mouth. She gasped, arching her back, one hand gripping my hair. I sucked and licked, circling the nipple with my tongue, then switching to the other. Her hips rocked against nothing, grinding into the air.

I worked my way down her stomach, kissing each rib, the soft curve of her belly, until my face was between her legs. She spread herself open with her fingers, and I dove in. Her taste flooded my senses, salty and sweet. I licked her clit in long strokes, then flicked it with the tip of my tongue. She groaned, her thighs tightening around my head. I pushed two fingers inside her, curling them, and she cried out, a sharp moan that became a scream as I sucked harder. Her orgasm rippled through her, her body convulsing, and I kept licking until she pushed my head away, trembling.

Then it was my turn. She rolled me onto my back, took my cock in her hand, and without hesitation swallowed it. Her mouth was hot, wet, her tongue working the shaft as her head bobbed. I watched her, her dark hair falling across my thighs, her eyes looking up at me. I moaned, my hips bucking involuntarily. She took me deep, her throat tightening around the head, and I nearly came right there. But I wanted to fuck her, proper.

I pulled her up, kissed her deeply, tasting myself on her lips. Then I turned her over, onto her hands and knees. She presented herself, ass raised, pussy glistening and ready. I positioned myself behind her, ran the head of my cock through her wetness, then pushed in. She let out a long, shuddering breath as I filled her. I gripped her hips, started slow, then increased the pace. The bed creaked beneath us, a steady rhythm. I leaned forward, kissed her shoulder blades, her neck. She moaned, a low guttural sound that drove me wild.

We shifted position. She rolled onto her back, and I climbed on top, her legs wrapped around my waist. She rode me, her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust. Her face was flushed, her mouth open, eyes half-closed. I kissed her, deep and wet, swallowing her moans. Then I rolled us over, so she was on top. She sat up, her hands on my chest, and began to move. I watched her breasts bounce, her hair sway. She rode me hard, fast, her thighs slapping against my hips. She threw her head back and screamed, a raw, primal sound that echoed off the walls.

I grabbed her waist, flipped her onto her back again, and entered her from the side, one leg hitched over my arm. I thrust deep, hitting that spot that made her gasp. I reached down, found her clit, rubbed it with my thumb. She bucked against me, her hands fisting the sheets.

Then reverse cowgirl. She turned around, facing my feet, and lowered herself onto me. I watched the curve of her spine, the way her ass cheeks clenched as she rode. I reached up, grabbed her hips, guided her rhythm. She leaned forward, and I could see her pussy gripping my cock, slick and pink.

Then missionary again, but this time I lifted her legs onto my shoulders. Her feet were near my face. I leaned down, took her toes into my mouth, sucked them one by one. She moaned, her eyes rolling back. I licked the arch of her foot, her instep, while I fucked her. Her legs trembled, and I felt her tightening around me.

I needed to finish. I pulled out, grabbed Alan’s pillow from his side of the bed, and shoved it under her ass. She lifted her hips, and I entered her again, deep, grinding. I kissed her, our mouths locked, tongues wrestling. I felt the pressure building, that electric surge. I pushed harder, faster, and then I came, a hot flood of cum pumping into her. I kept thrusting as I emptied, my seed spilling out, running down over her cunt and onto Alan’s pillow. I collapsed on top of her, panting, both of us slick with sweat.

We lay there, tangled, for twenty minutes. The afternoon sun had shifted, casting longer shadows. I could hear the distant murmur of the television in the bedroom, but we’d turned it off. Just the sound of our breathing, the occasional kiss. She played with my cock, soft and lazy, stroking it until it stirred again. She sat up, a wicked grin on her face, and swung a leg over me. She lowered herself onto my hardening shaft, and I slid back inside her, still wet from before.

She rode me again, this time slower, more deliberate. The bed rocked, a steady metronome. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing my chest, and kissed me. I gripped her ass, helped her move. She moaned into my mouth, then threw her head back and screamed, a long, shuddering cry. I could feel her coming, her inner muscles clenching.

I rolled her onto her stomach, pulled her hips up. Doggy again, but rougher this time. I slapped her ass, grabbed a handful of her hair, and fucked her hard, punishing. She cried out, each thrust pushing a moan from her. She came again, her body shuddering, and I kept going, relentless. Then I pulled out, turned her onto her back, and lifted her legs onto my shoulders. I entered her, deep, and fucked her missionary, slow and deep. I reached down, rubbed her clit, and she came again, a third time, her screams muffled by my mouth as I kissed her.

I felt my own climax building. I grabbed Alan’s pillow, slid it under her ass again, and fucked her until I came, another hot creampie. My cum pooled on the pillow, mixing with hers. I stayed inside her, softening, and we lay there, sticky and satisfied.

After a few minutes, she whispered, Alan’s been having erection issues lately. She laughed, a low, husky sound. I’m glad he’s at the game. This is heaven.

I kissed her, long and tender. We lay there, sharing kisses, each time looking at each other, smiling. The afternoon was ours. We had hours.

We both needed to cool down. She led me to the bathroom, turned on the shower. Steam filled the small space. We stepped under the spray, the water hot and soothing. She soaped my chest, my arms, my cock. I washed her back, her shoulders, then cupped her breasts, the water making them slippery. She pressed against me, and I felt her hand wrap around my cock, already hardening again. She knelt in the shower, water running down her face, and took me in her mouth. The steam, the heat, the sound of water—it was intoxicating. I fucked her mouth, her tongue working me, until I pulled her up.

I pressed her against the tiled wall, her back to me. Water ran down her spine. I spread her legs, positioned myself, and entered her from behind. The water splashed around us. I fucked her standing, my hands on her hips, her moans echoing off the tiles. She braced herself against the wall, and I drove into her, harder, faster. The water was warm, but we were hotter. I reached around, rubbed her clit, and she came, her body shaking against the wall. I kept fucking her through it, then I came again, a third creampie for the afternoon, my cum mixing with the water swirling down the drain.

We stood under the spray, catching our breath. She kissed me, water streaming over our lips. We rinsed off, dried each other with a towel, and padded back to the bedroom.

The sheets were damp, the pillows rumpled. Alan’s pillow had a dark stain. I didn’t care. We lay down, naked, and she stroked my cock until it was hard again. She climbed on top, rode me slow and deep, her body rocking. We didn’t bother with the football. We were too busy fucking. She came twice more over the next hour, and I filled her again, not bothering with the pillow this time. My cum leaked out onto the sheets.

The afternoon bled into evening. We snacked on some biscuits and cold juice, then fucked again, missionary, side by side, doggy one last time. Each creampie felt deeper, more intimate. By the time I looked at my phone, it was seven-twenty-five. Time to go.

We showered again, but this time we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. She bent over in the shower, and I fucked her one last time, quick and hard, coming inside her again. We were both sweaty despite the water, our bodies slick.

We dried off, dressed in a rush. She kissed me at the front door, a deep, lingering kiss. Her eyes were glossy. Same time next week? she asked.

I nodded, stepped out into the cool evening air. I walked to my car, avoided looking at any neighbours. I drove home, my body still humming.

I checked the football scores as we didn't see the game as we were too busy fucking. West Ham had won their match.

But it wasn’t enough. They were relegated to the Championship. Alan would be coming home to a bitter taste, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. And he’d come home to a wife who was well fucked, to a pillow that smelled of my cum, to sheets that held the memory of our afternoon.

I smiled.

A perfect afternoon.