Friday before Camille's birthday.

We made arrangements as Rob was going out to Camden for the evening.

I knocked on the door of Camille's house just after five, the little gift box tucked under my arm. Camille opened it wearing a loose cream blouse and tight black trousers, her hair still pinned up from work. She smiled the second she saw me and pulled me inside, shutting the door with her heel.

"Rob’s already gone," she said, locking it. "Drinks in town. He won’t be back till late." She leaned in, kissed me once, twice, then a third time, slower, her tongue sliding against mine before she pulled back laughing. "Happy early birthday to me."

We didn’t waste time. She took my hand and led me straight upstairs to the bedroom she shares with Rob. The moment the door closed she was on me again, mouth open, tongue pushing deep, saliva mixing as we traded wet, noisy kisses. Her laughter bubbled between them. "God, I’ve been thinking about this all day," she murmured, already unbuttoning my shirt.

I helped her out of her blouse, unhooked her bra, and she wriggled out of her trousers and knickers until she was naked in front of me. She tugged at my belt, shoved my jeans and boxers down in one go, then pushed me onto the marital bed. The sheets still smelled faintly of Rob’s aftershave, but Camille climbed over me without a hint of hesitation.

"This bed belongs to us," she said, straddling my chest, eyes bright. "It’s ours. Rob just pays the mortgage." She laughed again, leaned down, and kissed me hard, spit stringing between our lips when she pulled away.

I rolled her onto her back and kissed my way down her body, sucking each nipple, licking the soft skin under her breasts, then lower. She spread her legs wide for me. I buried my face between them, tongue sliding through her folds, tasting how wet she already was. Camille moaned and grabbed my head, grinding against my mouth.

"Eat that pussy like it’s yours," she gasped. "Because it is."

I licked and sucked her clit, pushed two fingers inside her, working her until her thighs shook. She came with a sharp cry, flooding my tongue. I kept licking through it, swallowing everything she gave me.

When she caught her breath she sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and offered me her feet. "Ten minutes," she reminded me, eyes sparkling.

I knelt on the floor and took her right foot first, licking from heel to toe, sucking each toe slowly, running my tongue between them. Camille watched me, giggling softly, then moaning when I sucked harder. I switched to the left foot, licking the sole, pressing kisses along the arch, sucking her toes one by one until they glistened. She flexed her toes in my mouth, laughing again. "You’re filthy," she said fondly. "My real husband."

After ten solid minutes of foot worship I stood. Camille reached into the bedside drawer and handed me two silk scarves. She lay back in the centre of the bed, arms above her head, and let me tie her wrists to the headboard. The knots were firm but comfortable. She tested them, smiled, and spread her legs again.

"Fuck me," she whispered. "Slow. Deep. Make love to me in our bed."

I climbed between her thighs, lined up, and pushed inside her in one smooth stroke. She was soaked. We both moaned. I started with long, deliberate thrusts, bottoming out each time, grinding against her clit on every downstroke. Camille’s legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my back. We kissed constantly—messy, open-mouthed kisses full of spit and tongue, her saliva running down my chin. Every few thrusts she’d laugh breathlessly and say, "I love you," or "You’re my real husband," or "Rob could never fuck me like this."

I kept the pace slow and deep for the full twenty minutes, sometimes stopping completely to grind in circles while we kissed. Camille’s moans grew louder, turning into sharp little screams when I angled just right. Her pussy clenched around me each time she came, and I kept going through every orgasm, sweat dripping onto her chest.

When I finally couldn’t hold back I buried myself to the hilt and unloaded, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside her. Camille moaned into my mouth, kissing me through it, whispering how good it felt to take my load in their marital bed.

I untied her wrists. We slid under the duvet together, bodies still joined. She curled against me, head on my chest, and I played with her hair while we shared lazy, wet kisses. Every few minutes one of us would start laughing for no reason, the sound muffled by the covers. We stayed like that for half an hour, occasionally shifting so I could stay inside her, soft and warm.

Then Camille sat up, eyes mischievous. "My turn to tie you." She took the scarves and secured my wrists to the headboard the same way I’d done to her. She straddled me, reached under the duvet, and guided my cock back into her cum-slick pussy. She rode me slowly, hips rolling in deep circles, the duvet tenting over us. We kissed constantly—long, sloppy exchanges of spit, her tongue pushing deep while she ground down on me.

She kept the rhythm unhurried, lifting almost all the way off before sinking back down, taking every inch. Her moans mixed with soft laughter. "I love feeling your cum inside me while I fuck you," she whispered against my lips. "This bed is ours. Always."

I came again, harder than the first time, pumping another load deep into her while she kissed me through it, swallowing my groans. She stayed on top, still moving gently, until I softened inside her. Only then did she untie my wrists.

We showered together. Under the hot water she soaped my chest, I soaped between her legs, and we kept kissing—gentler now, but still wet and deep. "I love you," she said, water running over both of us. "More than anything."

"I love you too," I answered. "My wife."

She smiled, pressed her forehead to mine. "Rob’s never going to know how much this bed means to us."

We dried off, climbed back into the still-warm sheets, and fell asleep tangled together. The last thing I felt before drifting off was her fingers tracing circles on my chest and her quiet whisper: "Safe. Ours. Perfect."