#Dirty Talk

I was 27, wading through that murky stretch of life where pretending to be okay feels like a full-time job you're about to quit. My dad had died a few months earlier, and I'd walked away from my job at the bookstore. Everything inside me felt cracked open. Mason had always been magnetic to me. Sandy blond hair that fell messy over his forehead, a low, rumbling voice that carried a quiet confidence, and these sharp green eyes that seemed to see straight through you - like he knew your secrets before you did. I'd been hooked on him since the day we met at a mutual friend's party, though I buried it deep. He was tangled up with my so-called "best friend, " Tara. I stayed out of it, played the good girl - until the rules changed. It was a frigid Friday night in July, the kind where the wind bites through your jacket. Restless, I was doom-scrolling when I caught Tara's latest sob-story post: a black-and-white photo of her staring out a window, captioned, "Love can mean walking away..." I snorted. My brain did the math: "Mason's out." And sure enough, he was. "You holding up? " I texted her, keeping it light, like I cared. She called instantly, voice thick with tears. "He's done with me. Said I'm suffocating, that I'm too much, that I'm paranoid." "Sheesh, maybe he's onto something, " I thought, but I murmured vague sympathies instead, sprawled across my futon. I let her ramble for 40 minutes - crying, cursing, circling back. When she finally hung up, I didn't hesitate. I slid into Mason's DMs. "Hey. Heard about the breakup. You okay? Here if you need me." His reply pinged back fast. "Hey, thanks. Didn't think you'd reach out. Appreciate it." I played it smooth, dropping little hooks. "Let's hang out sometime, grab a drink." Then, "If you're around, stop by." I sent my address and cranked some grunge to drown out my nerves while I shoved clutter under the couch. He rolled up past midnight. He looked rough - bags under his eyes, shoulders slumped - or maybe he was just leaning into the wounded vibe. Guys like him don't need much to stumble into a girl who's ready to catch them. He stepped inside, bringing a whiff of cedar and leather. Those green eyes were hazy, searching, like a stray dog sniffing for shelter. My kind of catnip. "Beer? " I offered. "Hell yeah." We sank into the couch. I had on this baggy flannel shirt, unbuttoned halfway, no bra, no shorts - just panties underneath. When I crossed my legs, the shirt rode up, flashing skin I knew he'd clock. And he did. I made sure of it. "I don't even know where it all went wrong, " he said, cracking the beer. "Maybe it's not about going wrong. Maybe it's about breaking free." He turned those eyes on me, and I swear they flickered - like he'd just stepped onto thin ice and heard it creak. My apartment wasn't safe ground anymore; it was a live wire. My hand found his knee, resting there like it was no big deal. He stiffened, glanced down. I could see the outline straining against his jeans, and that was my green light. "If you're here to vent, go for it, " I said, voice low. "But if it's something else... don't bullshit me." He didn't speak. Just lunged, hands framing my face, lips crashing into mine with a force that tasted like frustration and want. I melted into it, parting my lips, letting him in. I swung a leg over him, straddling his lap, feeling the hard ridge of him press up against me through the thin fabric of my panties. I rocked my hips slow, deliberate, a soft moan slipping out as the friction lit me up. He groaned, deep and ragged, hands sliding under the flannel to grip my hips, fingers digging into my skin like he was claiming territory. He shoved the shirt off my shoulders, baring me completely. "Goddamn, you're unreal, " he breathed, mouth dropping to my chest. His tongue flicked over one nipple, then the other, hot and wet, sucking hard enough to make me gasp. He grazed me with his teeth, just enough to sting, and I arched into it, heat pooling low. I fumbled with his jeans, yanking them down. His cock sprang free - thick, veined, pulsing. I wrapped my lips around it, taking him in deep, tasting salt and skin. My tongue swirled over the tip, then down the shaft, sloppy and hungry. Spit slicked my chin as I worked him, sucking with a fury I didn't know I had. He growled, fingers twisting in my hair, tugging just shy of painful. "She never went this hard, " he muttered, voice breaking. I smirked around him, humming so the vibration hit him harder. I knew she didn't. He hauled me up, spun me around, and bent me over the kitchen counter. Cold granite hit my stomach as he kicked my legs apart. He knelt behind me, hands spreading me open, and his tongue dove in - long, slow licks that made my thighs quiver. He sucked my clit into his mouth, teasing with flicks and pressure until I was clawing at the countertop, whining for more. "Fuck me already, " I begged, voice raw. He stood, lined up, and drove in - deep, sudden, stretching me full. He didn't ease into it; he fucked me like he meant it, hips snapping hard, the counter digging into my pelvis with every thrust. Plates clattered in the cabinets; my moans echoed off the walls, loud and shameless. Then he pulled me back to the couch, flipped me onto my stomach. He yanked my hips up, spread me wide, and sank in again. This angle hit deeper, sharper, his cock dragging against every nerve. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back as he pounded, whispering filthy things - how tight I was, how wet, how he'd been dying for this. I shoved back against him, meeting every thrust, legs trembling, dripping down my thighs. He came with a grunt, pulling out to finish across my back, warm and messy. But I wasn't done. I turned, dropped to my knees, and took him in my mouth again. He was still hard, slick with me. I sucked slow this time, savoring - tongue tracing the underside, lips sealing tight around him. His hands shook in my hair as I looked up, daring him to lose it. "Give it to me, " I murmured, pulling back just enough to let him see my open mouth. He did - shuddering, spilling over my tongue, my lips, my chin. I dragged a finger through it, licked it off slow, holding his gaze like I'd just taken something he'd never get back. "You good now? " I asked, smirking. "Fuck yes." He flopped onto the couch. I climbed onto him, sweaty, sticky, spent. His arm curled around me, the other hand lazily cupping my breast, thumb brushing the nipple like he couldn't stop. "What's your story? " he asked, voice gravelly. I laughed, sharp and tired. "A whole damn trainwreck." He grinned. We stayed there, tangled up, trading dumb small talk like we hadn't just fucked each other senseless. "Gimme a sec, " I said, peeling off him. "Gotta grab my vape - it's on the nightstand." I padded to the bedroom, bare-assed, and felt him follow. Silent, but heavy. I turned as he closed the gap, slamming me against the wall, mouth on my neck, biting soft. His cock pressed against my thigh, hard again. He was fire against me, a promise we weren't finished. I dragged him to the bed, and he threw me down, climbing over me. His lips trailed my stomach, lingered on my breasts, sucking marks into the skin, then up to my throat. He pried my legs apart with rough, warm hands and thrust in - fast, relentless. He pinned my wrists above my head, the mattress creaking under us. Every stroke was deep, brutal, hitting spots that made me see stars. I squirmed, moaned, begged without words. When he pulled out, I was gasping. I slid to the floor, knelt, and took him again - tongue lapping the length of him, slow and thorough, spit pooling as I worked. I jerked him with one hand, rubbed him against my chest with the other, slicking my skin with him. He came hard, groaning, painting my breasts, my throat, my stomach. I scooped it up, licked my fingers clean, slow and deliberate, tasting him like a prize. I grabbed a towel, wiped off, and said nothing. He dressed, lingering. "See you soon? " he asked, kissing me quick, hand brushing my chest. "Anytime, handsome, " I whispered back. He left. Nights like that kept coming - more fucking, more late texts, more everything. (More stories for another time.) We still meet up. It's not romance. It's primal, electric. He fucks me, and I'm whole for a while. Tara caught us together outside a bar months later - flipped out, called me every name in the book. I didn't flinch. She still glares when our paths cross. No one does it like Mason. No labels, no future, no clue what this is - but it's real as hell to me.

Working as a live-in nanny wasn't my grand life plan, but it paid decently and let me save up for a cross-country road trip I'd been dreaming about since high school. Taking care of a four-year-old boy was manageable - messy, sure, but nothing I couldn't handle. The real headache was navigating his parents, particularly Jake, a 48-year-old contractor with a gravelly voice and a habit of keeping things professional - until he didn't. I'd landed the gig through a friend of a friend who knew his wife from yoga class. For nearly a year, it was textbook: regular schedule, cash in hand, polite nods in the hallway. But Jake had this way of staring - quiet, intense - that always left a weird knot in my chest. It was a chilly October evening in 2024 when his wife got called out of town for a family emergency. Jake was stuck late on a job site, so they begged me to stay overnight. I'd had plans to meet a buddy for drinks, but I caved - extra pay's hard to turn down. Still, I was simmering by the time the kid finally passed out. The house was still, just the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of settling wood. I was sprawled on the sectional, half-watching a true crime doc on my tablet, legs kicked up, when I heard the crunch of gravel outside. Jake had warned me he'd be late, texted some apology about traffic, promised a fat tip. I'd shot back a curt, - Fine, - already counting the minutes till I could crash in the guest room. The door swung open, and his scent hit me first - cedar and sawdust, baked into his flannel and skin from a day swinging hammers. I flicked my eyes up without moving. Dark green Henley stretched over his broad chest, worn jeans hugging his thighs, a leather jacket slung over one shoulder, stubble shadowing his jaw. He scrubbed a hand through his dark hair and gave me a tired grin. You're a lifesaver, Tessa, - he said, dropping his keys on the hall table. - I owe you big for this. Yeah, well, he's asleep, so it's not total chaos, - I replied, shifting to sit up straighter. Jake ambled to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and cracked it open. He leaned against the counter, took a long pull, and watched me over the bottle. Want one? Unwind a little? I'm good. Long day. Just wanna sleep soon. One won't kill you. I bristled. Pushiness was a pet peeve. He clocked my expression and smirked, undeterred. Had you on my mind all day, - he said. That so? - I muttered, eyes back on my screen. Yeah. Got me so worked up I had to rub one out in the truck. My fingers froze on the tablet. I looked up, sharp. Excuse me? You heard me, - he said, voice steady, casual. - Jerked off thinking about you. Shock hit first, then rage. I could've slapped him, bolted, called him out. Instead, I stood, fists clenched, and jabbed a finger at his chest. You're a pig! He didn't budge, just held my gaze. Chill, - he said, low and even. - You're hot as hell. Not exactly breaking news. Do you even realize how messed up that is? Sure do. You've got a wife, you jackass! And you've got a body that won't quit. Go to hell! I turned, grabbed my hoodie off the couch, and stormed toward the stairs, heart slamming against my ribs. This wasn't happening - not in this house, not with him. But as I passed, his hand shot out, catching my elbow, halting me mid-step. Don't act like you don't feel it, - he murmured. I stood rigid, breath shallow, staring into his dark eyes. I said I got off thinking about you, - he continued, stepping in close. - But not the details. His voice dropped, husky, his breath brushing my ear as he leaned in. Pictured you in that red sundress from last month, bent over the porch railing. I swallowed, throat dry. You're full of shit. Nope. Snapped a pic when you weren't looking. Used it. My skin prickled, anger mixing with something else. You're a fucking creep... He nudged me back against the wall, slow and deliberate, his frame towering. Don't be mad, - he whispered, lips grazing my temple. - That dress clung to your ass like it was begging me to stare. I remembered that day - hot, sticky, me watering plants outside. I should've pushed him off, cursed him out, left. But my pulse raced, legs locked, a heat blooming low in my belly. What if I tell someone? He laughed, soft and dark. You won't. Why not? 'Cause you're eating this up. I glared, hating how my silence betrayed me. Then he pressed his hips forward, letting me feel him - rock-hard through his jeans. I wanna fuck you, Tessa, - he growled. - Name your price. You're vile, - I spat. And you're a goddamn knockout. I didn't answer, but I didn't move when his calloused hands slid up my sides. Tell me to stop, - he said, fingers teasing the hem of my tank top. - Mean it, and I'm done. I didn't. His grin widened. He bit my neck lightly, then shoved a hand down my leggings, rough fingertips finding me slick already. Knew it, - he rasped, smug. - Wet for me. I gasped as he pushed two fingers inside, thick and insistent, curling against me. He gripped my ponytail, yanked my head back, and crashed his mouth into mine, all teeth and hunger. You gonna let me have you? Yes or no? I shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. That's a yes, - he decided. - Get down. He released me, and I dropped to my knees, hands trembling as I fumbled with his belt. His jeans hit the floor, and there he was - hard, veined, throbbing, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled me forward. Open that pretty mouth, - he commanded. I did, wide and willing, taking him slow at first - tongue swirling over the head, tasting salt and musk, lips stretching around his girth. He groaned, hips twitching, guiding me deeper until I gagged softly, saliva pooling, my hands braced on his thighs. Fuck, yes, - he hissed, voice wrecked. - Suck it like you mean it. I did, hollowing my cheeks, bobbing faster, letting him hit the back of my throat. His grip tightened, controlling the pace, low moans spilling out as I worked him, messy and eager. Minutes blurred - five, ten? - until he hauled me up, eyes blazing. Enough, - he growled, spinning me to face the couch. - I need inside you. He shoved me forward, bending me over the armrest, and ripped my leggings down with my underwear in one brutal tug. His hands spread my thighs wide, exposing me, and I felt the air cool against my dripping heat. Stay right there, - he ordered. His tongue came first, hot and greedy, lapping at me from behind - long, firm strokes that made my knees buckle. He gripped my ass, spreading me wider, burying his face deeper, sucking my clit until I whined, nails digging into the upholstery. Goddamn, you taste good, - he mumbled against me, voice muffled, then plunged his tongue inside, fucking me with it, relentless. I moaned, loud and broken, pushing back into him. He pulled away, stood, and I heard his belt clank as he lined himself up. Then he thrust in - hard, deep, stretching me full in one go. I cried out, the burn delicious, his thick cock splitting me open as he started pounding, hips slapping my ass with wet, rhythmic smacks. He grabbed my hair again, twisting it around his fist, arching my back as he drove harder. Tell me you love this, - he demanded, voice raw, thrusts brutal. I love it, - I choked out, dizzy. - Harder, please... He obliged, slamming into me with force that jolted the couch, his free hand clawing my hip, anchoring me. His cock dragged against every nerve, thick and pulsing, filling me so completely I could barely think. He leaned over, chest slick with sweat against my spine, growling in my ear. What are you, huh? - he panted, teeth nipping my shoulder. Your dirty little slut, - I whimpered, lost in it, feeling him throb inside me. Damn right, - he snarled, and fucked me like he meant to break me - deep, punishing strokes that had me shaking, teetering on the edge. Then he groaned, loud and guttural, pulling out to finish across my ass and lower back, hot spurts painting my skin as he jerked himself through it, breathing ragged. I slumped forward, spent, a shaky - Fuck... - slipping out as aftershocks rippled through me. He stood there, one hand still on my hip, the other milking the last drops from his cock, smirking down at me like a conqueror. After a moment, he tugged his jeans up, slapped my ass hard enough to sting, and chuckled. That's worth triple pay. I laughed, breathless, face mashed into the cushions. Asshole. You're fucking incredible, Tessa, - he said, voice still rough, wiping sweat from his brow. I grinned, too wrecked to argue, body humming. He sank onto the couch beside me eventually, and I crawled over, curling into his side. He wrapped an arm around me, kissed my hair, and slid a hand under my top, cupping my breast, thumb brushing the nipple in lazy, possessive circles. Jake stirred first, groaning as he stood and shuffled to the bathroom. The shower kicked on. I grabbed a tissue from the side table, wiped his cum off my skin, and dragged my clothes back on, still buzzing. He came out in a towel, hair wet, and I was already zipping my hoodie, ride app open. I headed for the door; he followed. See ya, - I said, tossing him a sly smile. He held out a hand, grinning. After all that, a handshake felt absurd - like sealing a contract. I squeezed hard, spun on my heel, and slipped out into the night.

After my first affair, things weren't the same anymore. My husband, Tom, and I were constantly at each other's throats - him with his endless drinking and me with my nagging. Every day, the distance between us grew wider. The worst part? I couldn't stop craving another taste of infidelity. I kept thinking about Mark and James, their bodies driving me wild, the way they'd enjoyed me and opened my eyes to so much. Three weeks of memories, three weeks of burning desire, three weeks of frustration with Tom, whose bed was now just a place to sleep. It was Saturday morning. The phone rang while I was in the shower, and Tom answered it. I stepped out, wrapped only in a towel, and sat on my bed to dry off. I didn't notice him watching me until he crept up behind me, kissed my neck, and whispered, "You look so good, baby, I can't get enough of you..." I let the towel fall, showing off my bare, sculpted figure. He came closer, kissed me, and started sucking on my breasts. His hand slid down to my slit, a finger slipping inside me. I purred playfully, "I need you, honey, take me..." - brushing my hand over his bulge. He knelt before me and started licking me, getting me wet in an instant. He pressed his hard length against me and, without hesitation, thrust it in deep. I'd hoped for more foreplay, maybe a chance to taste him or feel his fingers elsewhere... but a few quick pumps, and he was done, spilling inside me. I called him out on it, and his response left me cold. "Sorry, I just couldn't wait to get inside you..." - his softening cock still twitched inside me, and I was beyond turned on, but I knew he wouldn't be ready again anytime soon. I almost hit him. I yelled about how selfish he was, letting out all the pent-up resentment I'd been carrying. He stood up, leaving me trembling with anger, and went to shower. Another letdown. I was starving for more, and that idiot just went to wash up. Still fuming, I got dressed. The day was heating up outside, but I was burning with rage inside. I decided to give him one more shot - no underwear, just a seductive plan to reel him back in like the old days. The dress I picked was downright slutty - a thin, short, blue number that clung to me, showing off my legs. When I bent over, it revealed my round, bare ass and smooth, shaved skin below. I made breakfast and called him. He took his time, and when he finally showed up in the dining room, I saw he'd dressed to go out. "Just juice for me, I've got to head out..." - he said it so casually. "I thought you weren't working today..." - I shot back, irritated. "At least eat something, I already made it..." The doorbell rang. While he settled at the table, I went to check who it was. "Good morning, ma'am, I'm here for the boss..." It was Derek, one of the drivers from Tom's construction company. Like the other driver, he was rough around the edges but hot - a total brute, but the kind that got me going. Seeing him up close sent a shiver through me. He was tall, muscular, tanned, with hairy arms - damn, he was something. "You guys heading out? " - I asked, half innocent, half flirty. "Yeah, I think they're checking on a site in Riverton..." "They? " - I tilted my head. "You're not going with him? " "No, ma'am, it's Ray, the other driver, taking him and Mr. Collins." "Here I thought Tom would stick around today. What's a girl supposed to do with such a busy husband, right? Guess I'll be all alone again..." - I smiled slyly, drawing out that last word. I gave him a teasing look, the kind us sexy women know how to wield, and he held my gaze, smirking, "Sounds like a lack of trust, ma'am. That's fixable if you're up for it..." He blatantly stared at my chest as he said it. "You're crazy! " - I laughed, playing the part, turning around and swaying my hips as I walked off. I bet he got hard watching my ass bounce - I caught him adjusting himself out of the corner of my eye. Back inside, I realized I was already wet, partly from Tom's teasing and partly from Derek stirring me up. I went out with Tom to see him off, but my eyes were on Derek, who shook my hand with a loaded, "See you later, ma'am..." - I matched it with a subtle, suggestive grin. Once Tom left, I went back inside, picturing Derek taking me. He seemed like a beast, and the thought made me tremble. But the mess in the house snapped me out of it, and I got to work cleaning. By noon, I was done. I flopped onto the couch, flipped on the TV, and dozed off. The phone jolted me awake - I answered, but they hung up. It was 2 p.m. "Ugh, so lazy, " I muttered. I splashed my face in the bathroom, put on some light makeup, and was at it when the doorbell rang again. "Who now? " I braced myself for some salesman. The phone rang again - another hang-up. Then the doorbell, and this time it was my neighbor. We chatted for five minutes before she left. I showered, planning to visit my mom for the afternoon, but that sounded boring. Instead, I'd call my friend Sarah to grab lunch. I did my makeup again, slipped into a tight red dress - no underwear, of course. I love going out like that, just my vanilla perfume and heels. I checked the mirror - I looked hot, hair loose, with a "come get me" vibe. The doorbell again. "Goddamn, enough already, " I grumbled, stomping over to see who it was. "Hey... how about you let me in? " "Derek! What are you doing here? " - I stammered, flustered. "I came for you! " "You're insane! Get out, someone might see, or Tom could come back..." "Nah, they're halfway to Riverton by now. I'm here to give you what you're begging for, sweetheart..." Before I could protest, he pushed past me into the garage, shut the door, and grabbed my waist. His scruffy, unshaven face pressed close, and he kissed me hard. His tongue invaded my mouth, tasting wild and raw, while one of his big hands squeezed my ass. I tried to pull away, couldn't, and ended up kissing him back. He grabbed my hand and dragged me inside. In the living room, he kept kissing me, yanked my dress down to free my breasts, and sucked on them while groping me. "I love women like you who skip the panties - hottest damn thing..." - he panted. "When I picked up your husband, I saw you had nothing on under that dress - everything was out there, you little tease..." "But I do wear..." - I started, confused. "Then why's there nothing now, huh? " - he grinned, still kneading my ass. I didn't answer - I loved his boldness, those dirty words that set me off. His hands hiked up my dress, caressing my bare cheeks, eyeing me like a starving man. I could see the thick bulge in his pants and, without thinking, brushed my hand over it. "Take me to bed, I want you to fuck me good..." - I said, throwing caution out the window, dripping with lust. I led him to my room, him smacking my ass the whole way. He stopped, awestruck by how nice it looked. "Damn, what a bed... this where your husband screws you? " I just nodded slightly. "Bet he doesn't satisfy you, huh? Old man like him, and you're still so ripe... Strip for me, baby, I'm dying to have you. Look how hard you've got me! " - he dropped his pants, revealing a massive, veiny cock. His hairy chest and thick shaft made me quiver - my body tightened in anticipation. "Take it all off, sexy..." "You do it..." - I purred, burning up. He peeled off my dress, leaving me naked, his eyes gleaming with hunger. "Keep the heels on - I love fucking sluts in heels, and you've got killer legs..." I was shaking as he stripped me bare, then himself. "What do you like? " "Everything, especially dirty talk and rough treatment - that drives me wild..." - I said, voice thick with want. I knelt, grabbed his cock, and studied it up close - squeezing it, then sucking it deep, loving every second. "Goddamn, you're a filthy one! I love it when a chick sucks me like that - get it sloppy, make it slide in nice..." I obeyed, licking every inch, tasting its strange, briny flavor, coating it with spit. He pulled me up, laid me on the bed face-up, and devoured me with his eyes. I spread my legs, showing off my smooth, open slit. "Fuck, that's a pretty little pussy, Claire - looks tight as hell..." - he growled, running his hand over it. He spread me wide, dove between my thighs, and plunged his tongue inside me, drawing out a moan. I whimpered louder, nearing the edge, until I begged, "Fuck me, Derek, shove it in, please! Give me that cock! " "I'm gonna fuck you senseless, you little slut! " "Do it, I'm on fire! " He grabbed my legs, spread me as far as I'd go, and slammed his cock in deep with one brutal thrust. I screamed - it hurt, but I pulled him closer with my legs, surrendering to this animal tearing me apart and filling me so perfectly. He started pounding me - fast at first, then slow and delicious. He took me however he wanted, and I gave myself up completely. Kissing me, groping me, he kept driving in, sucking my neck and tits without missing a beat. His strong hands gripped my ass, yanking me into each thrust, knowing just how much I loved it. He hoisted my legs onto his shoulders, going deeper still - I was sweating, and he owned me. "You're so fucking tight, you bitch! So damn good - move that ass, baby! " Eyes shut, I let him have me, rocking my hips the way I know men love. I met his thrusts, grinding into him, taking him deeper. He hammered me hard and fast until I exploded, my body clenching around him, milking his cock as I screamed in ecstasy. I gave him my first earth-shaking orgasm, urging him on, "Oh God, you're killing me! Keep going, don't stop! Fuck me hard, Derek, I'm yours, I'm your slut! I'm coming again - more, please, give me everything! " He went wild, slamming into me with all he had, pinning me under his weight, spreading me wide. His stubble scratched my breasts as he bit and sucked my nipples - my heels dug into his ass, begging for more. Another climax ripped through me, my cries letting him know. I wrapped my legs around his waist, fully open, grinding my clit against him until I couldn't take it anymore and squeezed him with everything I had, coming like the whore I am. My nails clawed his back, my tongue tangled with his as I moaned through the best fuck of my life. Finally, his hot load flooded me, but he kept pumping, driving me crazy until his cock softened and my pulsing grip on him faded. I went limp, nearly passing out, while he slowed, collapsing on me, kissing me softly, his tongue finding mine in a tender, sloppy dance with the brute who'd just ravaged me. He rolled off, panting, careful not to crush me, his cock slipping out with a trickle of his cum running down my ass, staining my marital bed - right there, in Tom's room, I'd been fucked like never before, a big "screw you" to him! I was glowing, transformed, smitten with this guy, showing it by cuddling up to him. We lay there, wordless, catching our breath in each other's arms. I got up, feeling his warm cum drip down my thighs, and he pulled me back for more kisses and caresses. "Claire, I want you again, baby..." "Wait, I need the bathroom - I'll be right back..." When I returned, he was standing, his half-hard cock still slick - what a sight! Still naked except for my heels, sweaty and hot, I sauntered over and teased, "Come on, let's go somewhere else..." I led him to Tom's study, perched on the desk, spread my legs, and purred, "Want a taste? I cleaned up nice..." He didn't hesitate, lifting my legs and diving in, licking me while squeezing my ass over Tom's papers and blueprints. "Now sit in the chair - I'm gonna suck you like you've never had..." He plopped into Tom's executive chair, and I went down on him like his personal slut, working his cock until it promised more. "Hang on, I'll be quick - I want you to fuck me until I can't take anymore..." - he stayed put, a bit stunned, watching my ass sway as I headed back to the bedroom. I slipped into a black garter belt, stockings, and my favorite strappy heels - no panties, of course. I dressed up like a sexy exec in a skirt and blouse, did my makeup like a tramp, and doused myself in perfume before strutting back to him. His jaw dropped. "I've always wanted to be the slut my boss fucks - now you're my boss..." - I flashed my ass, hiking up my skirt to frame it with the garters. Playing along, he grinned, "Come here, Claire, I've got something for you to take down..." "Yes, sir..." "What are you waiting for? Sit..." "Where, sir? There's no chair..." "You little tease, you've always wanted to ride a real man - here's your chance! " - he pointed to his throbbing cock. "Oh, sir, you've got me all wrong! I'm a married woman, not some tramp... but since you insist, I'll do it - just don't think less of me. Sitting on your cock doesn't make me a slut..." I circled the desk, and as I sat on his lap - not taking him in yet - he landed a hard smack on my ass. I wiggled against him, teasing, and he groaned, probably never having a woman like me grinding on him, playing his dirty secretary. "Goddamn, Claire, you've got an ass on you - and you smell so fucking good..." "Oh, sir, stop moving - you're poking me with that thing! " "Bet it's been a while since you've been fucked right, huh? " "Yes, sir, my idiot husband can't keep up - he leaves me hanging. You believe that? Sometimes I think he doesn't even want me..." "He's a damn fool, letting an ass like this go to waste - but don't worry, I'll fuck you whenever he doesn't. You're my slut now." "Oh, sir, but you're used to real women - I don't know if I measure up..." "Don't say that, Claire - you're a wild filly starving to be ridden... hell, not a filly, a full-on mare with an ass that needs a hard cock to make it sing! " "Sir, you say the hottest things, but I think you're just flattering me. Look, my boobs aren't as big as I'd like, but my ass? I think it holds its own..." - I thrust my chest out and arched my back. "Claire, you're killing me, and you think you're not enough? Every time I see you, I want to own you - and now that I've got you, you feel how hard you make me, don't you? " "Yes, sir, I feel it digging into me, begging for attention... Don't think I'm ungrateful - let me suck it for you..." - I kept the game going. I went down on him again, giving it my all, then climbed on, sliding his huge cock inside me and riding him slow and sweet, rocking my hips while he groped my ass and sucked my tits spilling out of my blouse. A finger slipped into my tight backdoor, making me moan. "You like it there, don't you, slut? You fuck so good - bet that little hole's nice and snug..." - Derek growled. "I don't know, sir, no one's ever taken me there - it's untouched..." "Don't tell me that, you little tease - I'm gonna break it in right now! " "No, sir, my husband will notice! " - I kept riding him, hotter than ever. "He won't know shit - and if he does, I don't give a fuck. Let him see how a real man handles his whore wife." "No, not that! " - I slid off and moved to the couch. Derek followed, and without another word, I offered my ass, guiding his thick tip to my tight entrance. He spat on it and pushed in - it was agony at first, stretching me painfully, but I urged him on, adjusting to take him. With a final thrust, he buried it all, yanking my hair as I cried out, tears mixing with the filthy pleasure. He pulled back and slammed in again, over and over, until the burn turned delicious. I begged him to stop, but he spanked me hard instead, reddening my cheeks, fucking me raw and wild - and I loved it, craving his brutality. "Harder, fuck my ass! It's yours, take it however you want! " - I screamed, and he did. He pounded me relentlessly, pulling my hips and hair until I nearly passed out from the mix of pain and ecstasy. Finally, I couldn't take more and begged him to stop - he pulled out, leaving me a mess, rushing to the bathroom to clean up the chaos he'd wrought. After washing myself out, I grabbed some cream, soothed my raw skin, and went back to him, offering my ass again. He didn't hesitate, plunging in with one hard thrust - the cream eased it, and he fucked me senseless, fingering my pussy until I came harder than ever, screaming as he unloaded deep inside me. We collapsed, his cum and my mess dripping out, and he kissed my ass, thanking me for the ride. I kissed him back, and we lounged on the couch, making out like lovers. He confessed he'd always wanted me, never dreaming he'd have me like this. I admitted Tom barely touched me anymore, and Derek offered to be my regular fix - I said yes. We showered, ate a late lunch around 4 p.m., and I played the doting wife to him. By 6, he dressed, and I walked him out, sharing a long, sweet kiss. He promised to return whenever Tom was away - I was all in for it, hooked on his roughness. As we lingered, headlights flashed in the distance. Not knowing who it was, he kissed me again and left as I slipped inside. Minutes later, Tom rolled in, reeking of booze. He grabbed my waist, slurring, "I'm back, baby..." - I turned and saw lipstick on his neck, fury boiling over. "At least wipe your neck, you're covered in it! " - I snapped. "Guess your little tramp didn't satisfy you, huh? " He stumbled, wiped it off in the bathroom, and came back. I sat fuming, still sore from Derek, and let him have it. He begged forgiveness, but I was done holding back. "Well, guess what? While you were screwing her, I had a man here - I gave myself to him, right here, today, and he made me feel things you can't anymore..." "You're crazy, you can't say that..." - he whined. "Oh, I can - especially with this ass..." - I smacked it, hiking my skirt to show the garter framing my bare cheeks. "He fucked me however he wanted, and I loved it. He just left - if you'd come sooner, you'd have caught me with him..." He slapped me and stormed to the bedroom, probably seeing the wrecked bed. I cried, expecting the worst for spilling it. He came back, yanked my hair, shoved me down, and dragged me across the floor as I clawed at the rug, toppling the coffee table. Screaming, I took another hit that knocked me flat, then he tore my clothes off and hauled me outside - lucky no neighbors were close enough to hear. After beating the hell out of me, he stormed off, calling me every name in the book. I crawled to bed, passing out in my tattered outfit, waking late at night. I threw on a robe, checked the mirror - bruised chin, puffy eyes from crying. I sipped warm milk, regretting everything with Tom. The damage was done - he knew I'd been with someone else, and I braced for the fallout, never imagining what'd come next...