The tow truck drove away hauling my BMW M8 on its back. The passenger fender folded down on the front tire during the collision. Those big Mercedes SUVs are hard. It was my fault, really. My mind was on a cheating husband and the thought that he had grown bored with me. My emotions were at full tilt and had been since I discovered the truth.
The officer handed my information to me and asked if I would need a ride home. Shaking my head, “No thank you,” I answered, my hand trembling with nerves, “I’ll just catch a taxi.” The last thing I needed was to be dropped off in front of my nosey neighbors by a police car.
He turned to the driver of the Mercedes, Mr. Sawyers, handing him his information and making the same offer to him. His car was drivable so he declined. He was friendly and forgiving about the accident.
We exchanged information after the officer drove away and Mr. Sawyers offered me a ride to my home. Seeing my indecision, he then offered to call a taxi for me. His smile was disarming and his demeanor pleasant. He had every right to bitch me out. The wreck was my fault.
“I live like fifteen minutes from here,” I said, my expression showing him I was considering a ride, “Sure you don’t mind?”
“It’s not a problem,” he said, “Honestly.”
“You aren’t mad that I bent your bumper?”
With a grunted laugh, he shook his head, “It was an accident. You have insurance. In a few months, we won’t even remember it happened. And I’m not going to leave a pretty young lady like you stranded in this part of town.”
I smiled and nodded a thank you when he opened the passenger door for me. After giving him my address, I settled back to let my nerves calm, “You okay?” He asked, turning left onto the elevated freeway.
“Yeah,” I replied after a few seconds, realizing he had asked, “It just been,” shaking my head in frustration, “It’s just been one of those fucking days.”
“Hey,” he said softly, his hand patting my knee, “We all go through these things. This too shall pass.”
I raised an eyebrow with a dejected tilt of my head, feeling the warmth of his hand, just for the briefest moment on my stockinged knee. I couldn’t help myself. It was the first real, caring contact with a man I’d felt in nearly three years. I put my hand on his and squeezed softly. Turning onto the surface street, we were minutes from my home.
Judge me if you have to. Yes, I was married. Yes, I knew it was wrong. Judge me if you want to but you just don’t know what it was like. I rubbed his hand with mine, finally pulling it up my thigh and under my skirt, looking at him with wanting eyes. His eyes looked directly into mine with a bit of shock. I pushed his fingers between my thighs and pressed them to the crotch of my panties, still eyes locked on his and biting my bottom lip.
I was instantly wet, breathing hard through my nerves. My heart pounded as he pulled to a stop by the curb. He shoved the shifter into park and turned toward me. I saw the age on his face. I remembered from his driver’s license that he was fifty-three. Twenty-eight years my senior. I didn’t care. I just needed to feel something again. Our lips met in a deep passionate kiss. I pressed his fingers tighter, our tongues dancing. I was in his lap before I knew it, my back to the steering wheel, I straddled him.
I felt his seat start to recline, giving us a little more room. My face was pressed to his, not looking around, I didn’t care if anyone saw. His hands now warmed the tops of my thighs, sliding up and down the smoothness of my stockings. I leaned over him, more on my knees than his lap, giving him access. I felt him unhook each garter. I felt his hand, palm against my crotch, slide over my pussy, so wet, and up between my ass cheeks.
His fingers hooked my panties in the back, pulling them down. I wiggled my hips to help him but my knees were spread and he couldn’t get them off. We kissed and moaned, grunting our efforts to expose my sex. I pushed my hand down the front, hooking the stubborn waistband with my thumb and I heard them tear. I didn’t care just as long as they were out of the way.
That done, he slid both hands onto my ass, kneading and squeezing. I whimpered and moaned, our hot breath mingling in our kiss. My fingers worked to open his fly but it seemed futile. With my skirt and coat bunched between us, it proved impossible. I gave up, grabbed the door handle, and gave it a pull and the door popped open.
A look of sudden alarm on his face as I stepped out onto the sidewalk, my torn panties hanging just below my skirt on one knee.
He must have thought I changed my mind. He looked as though I would call out for help and accuse him of a crime. There was confusion in his stare. I walked backward, facing him, my heart still pounding with the strum of desire, pulling my coat and skirt up together, exposing my pussy. My eyes flashed him a look, ‘If you want it, come get it.’
I turned and walked to an alley, turning back to see him still gawking at me from his car. Leaning against the concrete wall, I pulled my skirt up again and curled my finger begging him to come to me. A worried look around the area and he finally unbuckled his seatbelt and got out.
Slamming his door, he scanned the area again and quickly followed me into the alley, locking his car with a beep. I walked quickly several steps ahead, leading him to a dumpster a few yards down the passage, shedding my leather coat.
Once passed the dumpster, I dropped my coat on a stack of wooden pallets and leaned, back against the dirty wall.
With one hand he grabbed my knee, pulling it up against his hip, pressing me to the wall. His other hand busied itself with the buttons of my blouse. This was taking too long. I pushed him back, grasping the collar of my blouse with both hands tearing it open, buttons flying. Next, I did the same with my skirt, ripping it at the split.
Naked now except for my garter belt and stockings, he had clear access. He stood, staring in amazement at my body, my panties still hanging at my knee. My impatience grew so I pulled at his belt, loosening it and then opening his fly.
There was a hard lump in his boxers when I pushed them and his trousers to his knees. His cock stood erect in the dimness of the alleyway. I looked at it with a pang of hunger, leaning against the wall again, my feet wide, “Fuck me,” I groaned, “Please, fuck me now.”
He took the two short steps to me, holding his pants by the belt to keep from tripping. After looking around once more, he forgot his pants, bending his knees just enough, he pushed his throbbing cock into my sex. My eyes closed, my lips hatred in a moan when I felt him inside. He wasn’t huge. It didn’t matter. He was here and he was hard. He wanted me.
His thrusts were short and hurried. I could tell that he was nervous. Both hands on the back of his head, fingers playing in his hair, I pulled him to my lips again, kissing him with abandon, “Fuck me,” I grunted through his kiss.
His thrusts became longer, withdrawing all the way and pushing back in, his balls bouncing against my ass. My orgasm built fast and slammed me against the wall. It shook me and wracked my body. My hands pulled his head to my shoulder and I dropped mine onto his.
The cloth of his button-down shirt helped to silence my screams of ecstasy. Cars zoomed by just feet away, oblivious to our lewd presence. There were no windows in the walls that towered above us. We were in our own world.
My orgasm went just as quickly as it came, and I pushed him back again. His look was confused again. I smiled naughtily and turned away. Bending at the waist and feet wide apart, I leaned against the damp, filthy wall. It took him only a second to re-enter me.
With a grip on my hips, he pushed his cock deep into my womb. My juices flowed like a lazy river, “Fuck me hard,” I pleaded, “Don’t hold back.”
With abandon, he did as I asked, pushing deep and hard, fucking me like I hadn’t been in so long. I had forgotten how good it felt. I reveled in each thrust, each slap of his hips against my ass, each thump of his balls against my clitoris. I came again, trembling, my face against the cold dampness of the mortar wall.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, thrusting one last time. His cock buried deep inside, he filled my womb with his cum. I felt it jet from his cock, splashing, and pooling, filling me. He grunted a moan of pleasure with each pumping jet from his cock until finally, he slipped limply from my pussy.
Stumbling backward, he pulled his pants up, tucking his shirt in and fastening his belt. I remained bent and leaning against the wall, cum drooling from my used hole. I could feel it dripping halfway to my knees, clinging warmly to my thighs. I didn’t want to move, my orgasm still pulsing in a dying glow.
My senses returning, I stood, naked and leaned against the building. He smiled and picked up the remnants of my clothes. I smiled when he handed the torn material to me and then tossed it in the dumpster, “Thank you…..” I said, shaking my head to remember his name.
“Wilson,” he said, introducing himself.
“Thank you, Wilson,” I smiled, putting my coat on.
“Can I give you a lift home now?” he asked, “I need to get home before my wife so I can get cleaned up.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head with a smile, “I’m only a few blocks from home. You go ahead.”
“You might want to, uh,” he said, motioning to my torn panties still hanging from my leg.
With a smile, I pulled them off and tossed them into the dumpster with the rest of my wardrobe, “Thank you, Wilson,” I repeated, “For everything.”
He turned and walked to his car and gave me a smile and wave as he drove away. I leaned against the wall again, lighting a cigarette and enjoying a long-forgotten afterglow. I could feel the wetness trailing down my legs, past my calves now. It felt thick and warm. He was worried about his wife. As for me, I really should get home and clean up.
I pushed off the wall and turned right on the sidewalk. I walked ten blocks remembering the look in his eyes and the smell of his breath. He was a man. Three decades older than me but still, he was a man. I could still feel his hands exploring my body and couldn’t help smiling. I could still feel his cock inside me, another smile.
The walk was long and I enjoyed every step. Everyone I passed seemed to know what I had done. I could feel their eyes looking through my coat at my nakedness. I felt like I was alive again, almost dancing on the sidewalk.
The cum was slick between my thighs. I could feel it beginning to dry on my skin further down below my knees. I wanted to dip my finger in it and taste it, but they all knew what I did and what I would be doing. My gate was just a few more steps ahead and I could see my husband’s car in the drive. He beat me home but I knew he wouldn’t notice. He would be the only person in Arlington that didn’t have a clue.
That was the first time I cheated. Judge me if you want, but it felt so good. Go ahead, judge me, but I had my reasons.
“What reasons?”
Well since you asked…..
