She began to tug at his clothes, undressing him clumsily, with a ferocious passion. She could already feel the moistness in her lacy underwear, she could feel it begin to dampen the delicate, revealing fabric. He stopped his relentless pleasuring of her breasts and began to tear off his clothes, leaving them in a heap by the bed. Shirt, tie, socks, trousers; it all went on the floor. He tore off the rest of her clothes as well, leaving her in nothing but her black lacy underwear. She bit her lip, slowly inserted a finger into her mouth and began to suck it, noticing how his hard cock seemed to swell even further, with precum leaking from the tip. He lay down on the bed and dove between her legs, ripping off her panties and burying his face in her dripping wet pussy.
Katie moaned loudly, driven closer to the edge by his tongue buried in her cunt. She ran a hand through her soft, red hair. Her pussy was shaven, apart from a small triangle; it always turned men on when they found her red hair above her fiery hot cunt. She could feel his tongue deep inside her, and he began to fuck her with it, sliding it in and out of her like it was a cock. She whimpered, begging for more, harder and deeper. His tongue lapped between her delicate lips, throbbing and swollen with need. It flicked over her clit and she began to shake, the beginnings of an orgasm upon her. Every time his tongue slipped over her clitoris, she would moan loudly, wishing he would never take it away from her tight, wet pussy. Finally, he decided to reward her, flicking her clit repeatedly, building her up to her orgasm. She could feel the pleasure radiating through her every time his tongue touched her there, until she was moaning at the top of her lungs.
“Yes! Yes yes yes!” she screamed, “right there, right there! Fuck I’m gonna cum, gonna cum right noooooowwww…….”
Her entire body shook as her orgasm rippled through her, her lover not relenting his devouring of her pussy for one second. The orgasm eventually subsided, and now all she could think of was his hard, meaty cock filling up her creamy pussy. She looked at him in appreciation and lust, noting how hard his cock was.
“I need that cock inside me, right now. I need to be fucked, fucked hard and deep.”
She stood, grabbed her lover by his cock and circled him. She gave him a squeeze, smiling at how he groaned. A playful shove and he was on the bed, all eight inches pointing straight up. She licked her lips at the sight, craving the feel of it in her throbbing wet hole. She seductively walked to the bed, clambered on top of him and began to rub her aching wet cunt against the tip of his cock. He obviously needed release; his face was screwed up with concentration, trying to make this last, and pure lust. She saw his need, his hunger, his passion.
And she responded. She slammed her pussy down onto his cock, feeling inch after inch slide inside her, getting as deep as he could. She let out a moan of delight. She remained there for a moment, enjoying the feel of him inside her. But he was too horny to wait for her. His hips began to thrust and his hands reached around to cup her arse. He squeezed it, feeling the soft, tender flesh and heard her whimper in appreciation. He began to lift her up and let her slide down, slowly, gently at first, but their pace increased, until she was being fucked exactly how she wanted, hard and fast. His cock pumped in and out of her pussy, which managed to get even wetter, coating his cock in her delicious juices. Her moans were loud and deep; every time her lover thrust into her, she felt a wave of pleasure run through her. His thrusts began to increase in pace and she could tell he was near to finishing.
“No,” Katie whispered, “fuck me from behind, give it to me like the dirty little bitch that I am. You know you want to.”
Her lover, reluctant to stop pounding that sweet tight pussy, nonetheless acquiesced, letting her climb off of him and get on all fours, spreading her pussy, inviting him to fuck her with everything he had. He moved between her legs, and slid in his cock slowly, so that she could feel each inch of his cock enter her greedy pussy. She groaned with satisfaction, loving the sensation of his thick meaty member. She loved being fucked from behind; it made her feel like a dirty whore, a slut, a sex-addicted nympho who needed a hard cock inside her at all times.
“Fuck, come inside me lover,” she moaned, “fill my pussy up with your tasty cum. Fuck me, fuck me harder!”
He raised the tempo even further, fucking her with all his energy. Her orgasm hit her, she arched her back and moaned at the top of her lungs “yes! Just like that, fill me up! Fuuuuuuckkkkkk!” Her pussy contracted around him, holding his cock in a vice-like grip. That pushed him over the edge and he felt his balls tighten, shooting wad after wad of cum deep inside her. He groaned loudly, his cock ejaculating until it felt like it was impossible for there to be more. They collapsed on the bed, sweaty and satisfied.
“Only a few days left lover,” she said softly to him. He nodded in agreement, his eyes beginning to feel heavy. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as they drifted off to sleep.
From the shadows of the doorway, Katie’s husband John watched all of it. The flowers he had brought home were still clutched in his hand. White-hot anger surged through him, an intense fire that he fought desperately to control. His empty hand was clenched in a fist, his entire body shook with fury. But as his anger came under control, it began to fade, to replaced by something else. He realised what he was feeling, and quickly brought back the images that he had just seen to mind, to get angry once again. But it was no use; the anger faded and the crippling despair crept into him. John slumped over, his face collapsed in grief and pain, and the feelings of anguish threatened to overwhelm him. He stood silent for a few moments, to prevent him from crying out in despair.
He quietly turned and crept down the stairs, fighting to lock away every emotion he currently felt. At the bottom, he took several deep breaths, until he was calm. He put every unhappy feeling under lock and key, in the dark recesses of his mind, and began to collect a few items he would need: his personal laptop, some extra cash from their safe and his passport. He already had clothes packed in a travel case: he had been working in a city at the opposite end of the country for half a week. He hadn’t meant to come back for another four days, but John had missed his wife so much that he had gotten someone to cover him. He hadn’t told his wife, wanting to surprise her with a romantic, sex-filled night. ‘Well at least she got that,’ he thought, bitterly. He noticed the lover’s jacket resting on the arm of the sofa. John hadn’t smoked in years, but today he felt he needed any little boost that he could take. His wife didn’t smoke, so John was reduced to searching the lover’s jacket. He found a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, and lit himself a cigarette. He poured himself a Scotch, before packing some bottles of alcohol in his case as well. He felt he might need them.
John smoked slowly and sipped at his drink, knowing that when it was over, so was his marriage. As long as he smoked, the marriage wasn’t yet finished. He smoked until the cigarette was just ash and drained every drop of alcohol from the glass. Then he rose, grabbed a piece of paper from a drawer and began to write his wife a letter. It took him a moment to realise that the pen he was using was a birthday gift from Katie, a touching gesture to remind him how much she loved him (so she had said). His anger flashed briefly and he had to resist the urge to snap the pen. He calmed and began to write the letter, explaining to Katie what he had seen and what it meant to him. As he wrote, a single tear rolled down his nose and dripped onto the letter. A drop of liquid sorrow to underline the words. He finished the letter, placing it on the desk, alongside the pen and his wedding ring.
As John moved to the door, he saw himself in the mirror. He was shocked at how different he looked. With his slumped shoulders and grief etched onto his face, he looked ten years older than when he walked in. He stared for a moment, wondering if he would ever be able to recover from this. He could find no answer to that question.
John sighed, walked to the door, and headed out into the night. He took a last look at the house that had been his home for all those years. He shook his head and strode off to find some new meaning in his life.