Your Wife’s Asleep Upstairs
You text me at 1:17 a.m. “Door’s unlocked.”
I’m already waiting on your couch in nothing but one of your stolen hoodies and a red thong. The second you walk in, I’m on my knees, pulling your belt open before you can even speak. Your cock is already leaking when I wrap my lips around it, tasting the day on you. You fist my hair, fucking my throat quiet and rough so the floorboards don’t creak. When you’re close, you yank me up, spin me over the arm of the couch, and bury yourself balls-deep in one thrust. I bite the cushion to muffle how loud you make me scream. You pump me full, hot and thick, then pull out slow so it drips down my thighs. You zip up, kiss my forehead like nothing happened, and go back upstairs to her. I stay bent over, feeling you leak out of me, already counting the minutes until next time.
I’m already waiting on your couch in nothing but one of your stolen hoodies and a red thong. The second you walk in, I’m on my knees, pulling your belt open before you can even speak. Your cock is already leaking when I wrap my lips around it, tasting the day on you. You fist my hair, fucking my throat quiet and rough so the floorboards don’t creak. When you’re close, you yank me up, spin me over the arm of the couch, and bury yourself balls-deep in one thrust. I bite the cushion to muffle how loud you make me scream. You pump me full, hot and thick, then pull out slow so it drips down my thighs. You zip up, kiss my forehead like nothing happened, and go back upstairs to her. I stay bent over, feeling you leak out of me, already counting the minutes until next time.
1ヶ月前
