It was a sunny Good Friday afternoon as Emilee strutted up the driveway to the Johnson’s house. Her sundress clung to her voluptuous curves as she rang the doorbell, a mischievous grin playing on her full lips.
Jeff answered, his eyes widening at the sight of Emilee’s ample cleavage nearly spilling out of her low-cut top. “Uh, hi Emilee. Karen’s at church for Good Friday service. Can I help you with something?”
“Oh Jeff,” Emilee purred, trailing a red lacquered nail down his chest. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by to borrow some sugar. You know how it is.” She turned her baby blues on him with a smoldering look.
Jeff gulped audibly. Emilee had a reputation as the neighborhood husband-whore. Single and shamelessly brazen about poaching married men for a roll in the hay. He should shut the door in her face and make a hasty exit. But her body was like a siren call, impossible to resist…
“Well, I suppose I have some sugar…” Jeff hesitated, but found himself opening the door wider to let her in.
Emilee sashayed past him, her movements catlike. “What a gentleman,” she cooed. She made a show of bending over to look in the lower cabinets, her sundress riding up to reveal she wasn’t wearing panties. Jeff nearly choked.
“I don’t see any sugar down here. Maybe you can help me look?” Emilee turned, “accidentally” brushing her pert bottom against Jeff’s straining erection. Her eyes glittered with erotic knowledge.
Jeff’s resolve crumbled. He grabbed her hips and yanked her close, spinning her around. “Fuck the sugar,” he growled. “I need to taste that sweet little cunt of yours.”
Emilee purred in approval as Jeff hiked up her dress and plunged two fingers into her dripping snatch. “Ooh, you naughty boy,” she mewled. “Fucking me while the wife-queen prays for your soul.”
Jeff didn’t care. All he could focus on was the divine clutch of Emilee’s hot, tight pussy. The feel of her slick arousal coating his hand as he frigged her shamelessly. He needed to be inside her. NOW.
Hoisting Emilee up, Jeff wrapped her thighs around his waist and carried her to the living room couch. He laid her down and tore open his fly, freeing his throbbing manhood.
Emilee spread her legs wantonly. “Give it to me, Jeff. I want you to fuck me so hard you forget you’re married.” She reached down to spread her glistening pink folds in invitation.
With a grunt of pure male instinct, Jeff notched his engorged head at her entrance and drove to the hilt in one savage thrust. They both cried out at the exquisite sensation of him splitting her open.
He began to rut into Emilee like a beast in heat. The force of his thrusts shoved her up the couch cushions. The wet schlick schlick of his cock pumping her sopping cunt filled the room.
“Oh fuck yes, Jeff! Harder! Deeper!” Emilee keened, raking her nails down his back. “Bury that cock in my guts! I want to feel it for days!”
Jeff hammered into her relentlessly, his rhythm wild with lust. He could feel Emilee’s velvety walls rippling around him, coaxing him closer to the edge.
Sweat dripped down his face as he pounded her. The couch creaked a symphony in time with the slap of flesh on flesh.
“I’m close,” he gasped. “Where do you want it?”
“In my mouth,” Emilee panted. “I want you to fuck my face and pump me full of jizz.”
With a groan, Jeff hauled her off the couch and bent her over the armrest. He yanked her head back by the hair and sheathed himself in the warm cavern of her mouth.
Emilee suckled him greedily, her throat muscles rippling around his sensitive head. Jeff bucked into the wet heat, chasing his orgasm.
Within moments he was roaring his release, flooding her mouth with thick spurts of semen. Emilee gulped it down greedily, determined to swallow every drop.
As Jeff hunched over her, spent, Emilee came with a shriek around his cock, her pussy clamping down on nothing. Her juices squirted out to splatter obscenely on the carpet.
They collapsed together on the couch, Jeff still buried in her throat. Emilee hummed in deep satisfaction, her eyes glittering with the thrill of her conquest.
Just then, a key turned in the lock and the front door swung open. “Jeff darling, I’m home!” Karen trilled.
Emilee’s eyes went wide. She pulled off Jeff’s softening cock with a wet pop. “Oh shit, it’s the wife!”
Jeff sprang off the couch, hastily tucking himself away. “Emilee, what are you doing here?”
Karen stood frozen in the doorway, her jaw slack in horror as she took in the scene – her husband disheveled and half-undressed, the neighborhood husband-whore sprawled naked on their couch, his semen still dripping down her chin.
“Jeff,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “How could you? I’m your WIFE!”
Jeff opened his mouth but no words came out. Emilee simply smiled a cat-got-the-cream smile and began adjusting her sundress.
“Oopsie!” she sing-songed. “You’ve been caught, Jeff. Better talk fast before I tell Karen about all the times I came over while she was at church to fuck her husband’s brains out. I’m sure she’d love to hear every sordid detail.”
Karen began to sob, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Emilee sauntered past her with a smirk. “Ta ta, you two! The same time next week, Jeff?”
With that, she pranced out the door, leaving the Johnsons to sort out the mess in her wake.
And as for Emilee? She couldn’t wait to plot her next conquest. Being the neighborhood husband-whore was just too much fun!
