It’s been a while since we had a dirty story, don’t you agree? It’s time for a new one! If you’re a woman who is thirsting for a little “something more” than what you’re currently getting, this is the story for you!
Tell Me You Don’t Want It
Okay…so I shouldn’t have done it. It was all kinds of wrong. It was the kind of thing that married women just don’t do if they want to keep their husbands, and I definitely wanted to keep mine. It was completely out of character for me, the last thing anyone would have expected.
And that’s why I did it.
When Jason showed up that day to return the mower he had borrowed from our garage, I hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary. He was my husband’s friend and we shared the occasional laugh. I knew his wife had left him for another man and I also knew he had gone back on the bottle, which might explain why he was bold enough to try what he tried in the first place.
“Damn, but you look good,” he said to me.
Good? I was hot and sweaty from gardening in the ninety-degree heat. My hair was pulled up into a bun and my face was completely without makeup. I decided he was halfway drunk and brushed off the compliment. “Are you thirsty? I could use a glass of water.”
“Please,” he said, and followed me into the house.
Everything was normal until I dropped a piece of ice on the floor. I knelt to pick it up but he beat me to it, palming the ice in his strong hand. By the time I had turned back to the sink, he was right behind me, pressing the ice to that sweet spot at the back of my neck. The sudden touch of cold made my knees weak, but what made me breathless was the way he whispered into my ear.
“Do you like it?”
I didn’t know what he meant – the ice? Or the fact that he had a very sizable erection behind those jeans, and he was pressing his hips right against my ass, to show me just how big that dick was?
I immediately thought about my husband, of course. He would be furious, and rightfully so. But he hadn’t been inclined to make love to me in months, and I was tired of waiting. Maybe that’s why I let it happen – maybe I was just too tired of being the good girl he thought I was.
“I like it,” I said softly.
Jason thrust his hips against me. There was no way to pretend that I didn’t know what he wanted. When he slid his other hand up underneath my shirt, I arched into his touch. I ignored the warning bells in my head, even as I helped him push my shorts down to the floor.
His hand on the back of my neck, the ice melting into a trail down my shoulders, he bent me over the sink. I spread my legs to give him room. I heard the sound of his zipper, then his dick was pressed against me, hard and hot. “Tell me you don’t want it,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll stop.”
When he pushed forward, I was ready. My pussy swallowed him up like fertile ground sucking in the new rain. I let out a growl of pleasure and thrust back to meet him, taking him all the way. My pussy ached – it had been a while – but I wanted him so badly that nothing was going to stop me.
“Tell me you don’t want it,” he said again, and then he started to fuck me. His dick sawed in and out, getting wetter with each thrust, and I knew he wasn’t going to wait around. So I reached underneath me and started playing with my clit, which won a groan of approval from Jason. He braced his feet and went at me harder, so hard that I had to hold onto the sink with one hand to keep from banging into the faucet.
“Your husband will be home any minute,” he said. “Wonder what my buddy will say when he comes home and sees me slamming his wife’s cunt in his kitchen? It’s a good pussy, baby. It’s warm and tight and it feels like a river in there, doesn’t it? How long has it been since you got a real fuck like this?”
I was too busy coming to answer. The orgasm roared through me and my whole body shook. Jason leaned over and growled into my ear, “Tell me you don’t want it. Tell me you don’t want my come.”
I pushed back against him one more time. “Do it,” I said, and within a few thrusts he gave me what I had been craving – a hot load of cream to fill up my neglected pussy. He pushed deep and shot into me over and over, until he gently pulled out and my knees finally gave out. We both slid to the floor in a heap of sweat.
Jason watched me as I caught my breath. When I met his eyes, he gave me a wicked grin. “You never said you didn’t want it,” he said.
“I never said I didn’t want some more, either,” I told him, and the look of surprise on his face was priceless. “He won’t be home for another few hours,” I went on. “How much steam do you have in that engine?”
He had quite a bit of steam, as it turns out. And he’s had quite a bit of it every afternoon since!
