I was already horny and wet when I walked into the motel. I had been angsty all day at work anticipating this moment. I just climbed up the stairs to the room he had already secured for one hour of illicit sex. He always got there before me because his office was closer.
I knocked once on Room 26 on the first floor, and the door was opened for me almost immediately. These encounters usually occurred upon my request, but I knew he anticipated it as much as I did. The way he fucked me like it was going to be his last betrayed that. He pulled me into the room, and my eyes scanned around briefly before meeting his. As always, a combustible and dangerous electricity sparked between us with just a look.
Like a pair of starved horny teens, we pounced on each other, tongues meeting in a wet kiss that was carnal and forceful with no finesse. It made me wetter, and I moaned when he pushed my skirt up and touched my wetness. It felt so bloody good to have his fingers on me after anticipating this the whole day. He broke off the kiss and gave my nub a rub that sent pleasure singing through my body.
“You just left work, but you’re not wearing any panties. Did you take them off at work or did you leave home like this?”
“I didn’t wear any today,” I breathed as he nuzzled my neck.
“Does your husband know that you left home with a bare pussy?”
He pulled back to watch me with a glint in his eye, obviously waiting for an answer.
“No, he doesn’t,” I answered, moaning again when he slipped a finger into me.
“And see how wet you are. You’re such a slut for me, Cassie.”
“Mmmm”, I moaned, eager for him to turn me around and get on with the fucking. That was what I was there for, after all.
“I can see what you’re thinking, you know. Your eyes glaze when you’re thinking about being fucked hard. Does he know you like to be fucked like a slut?”
It simultaneously annoyed and turned me on when he asked me these questions. I loved the sweet lovemaking my husband and I usually did. But once in a while, especially when I am ovulating, I craved something more and turned into a slutty woman who wanted to be fucked disrespectfully, and that was when we had these encounters. Noah already knew this, so I could tell that the question was just a test.
“I love how my husband makes love to me, Noah. You know that I need you for something different. Now, stop talking and get on with it.”
“When does your wife expect you?” I asked as I undressed.
He looked up from unbuttoning his shirt with raised brows. “We have an hour tops, as usual.”
Shrugging off my shirt, I draped it over the chair and quickly got rid of my skirt as well and added it to the shirt. I felt him behind me and held still as he unclasped my bra and kneaded my breasts, planting kisses on my neck. “I love how you fit right into my hands. The perfect size made for my palms”
I loved this. I loved how he reassured me when we had sex.
Turning me around, he took my lips again, kissing me hungrily while roaming his hands over my tingling body. He was so hard, poking against me, and I couldn’t wait to feel him sliding into me and pounding my hungry pussy in a way that only he could.
When he pulled back to give us some air, I smirked. “You seem so hungry. Has your boring wife been starving you?”
The reaction was instant. His hands came up to my throat, firm but not hurtful, and his eyes flashed with danger. “Never disrespect my wife.”
Liquid pooled out to coat my sex as he gave me the reaction I knew from experience I would get. There was something about how he stood up for his wife while planning to fuck my brains out that really turned me on.
I licked my lips and stared back, trying to look remorseful instead of turned on. “I’m sorry.”
After one last hard look, his hand on my throat moved my head to draw me into another kiss. I moaned into his mouth when his hands came to grab my boobs, fondling it hard but not quite painfully.
He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply, and as much as I was enjoying it, we didn’t have that much time, and I wanted to do a lot with him.
Pulling back, I slid my hands on his chest, feeling the muscles, and with my eyes hot on his, I moved them down to grab his hard member. His eyes flickered as I stroked him with firm tugs just the way I knew he liked, flicking a light finger over the tip that was leaking pre-cum.
With my eyes still on his, I brought the fingers to my mouth and spread my lips, licking the slightly salty liquid. When I sucked the fingers into my mouth, his breathing became heavier, and I felt his hard dick pressing against me more persistently.
I wanted to taste him so badly and have him almost choke me with his dick, but I didn’t want to ask. I wanted him to demand it. As if hearing my thoughts, he strode to the bed and grabbed a pillow, dropping it on the floor before pushing me onto my knees.
“Suck.”
The way he ordered me around turned me on, and I opened my mouth to be fed with his hard cock. I moaned around his dick, sucking as he held the back of my head to fuck my face. I was in slutty heaven, enjoying the way he was just using my mouth as a tool for his pleasure. More liquid coated my already wet snatch. When he started to feed me more of his cock without mercy so that I was deep-throating him, I was proud of my lack of a gag reflex. I loved his groans that told me how much he was enjoying my “ministrations” on his tool. The noises he was making and the feel of him in my mouth sent bolts of pleasure inside my core. I felt the pleasure build up inside me before I stilled, cumming for the first time that night.
He pulled his wet dick out of my mouth and grabbed my hand to pull me up onto unsteady feet. “Such a slut for me. Cumming without being touched.”
There was no argument for that, so I just grinned at him and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I wish we had more time so that I could suck him until he cums down my throat, but our time together was limited and I needed him to fuck me.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered, and I eagerly complied, going on all fours and reaching behind to finger myself. I heard him come behind me, replacing my fingers with his. He fingered me for a few seconds before I felt a wet tongue probing me. My moans increased as he fucked me expertly with his tongue. When I felt his thick hardness probing for entry, I was more than ready.
His entry wasn’t gentle, and neither were his thrusts. He alternated between quick hard thrusts and long slow ones that were nowhere near gentle. I was moaning and whining my pleasure loudly, lost in the throes of passion. I didn’t want the sweet pleasure to end.
I felt the pleasure build, and I knew he was also reaching his peak, but he stopped and changed our positions, lying down with me on top in a delusion of giving me control. It was just a delusion because he held my hips and thrust upward into me, controlling the rhythm. The constant brush against my spot made me delirious with pleasure, and my orgasm when it came was loud, long, and shattering. He thrust into me a few more times before coming with a loud grunt.
I relaxed on top of him while we both caught our breath and climbed slowly down from the high we had reached.
After we could move our limbs, we showered together to wash off the evidence of sex and dressed quickly. Time had run faster than I had thought, and it was time to return to my quiet, loving life. After giving him one last passionate kiss, I left the room to go home.
Now that the freakiness had been adequately fucked out of my system for the month, I was ready to return to the sweet affection I had at home. Passing by the supermarket on my way home, I shopped for groceries and got my husband’s favourite supermarket salad for our dinner.
When I arrived home, I unlocked the door with my keys and made my way to the kitchen, where I was met with the delicious smell of fried, homemade chicken and chips. We had marinated the chicken that morning before going to work, and the smell made me realise how hungry I was. Dropping the shopping bags on the counter quietly, I watched the love of my life, the sweetest and most gentle man I’d ever met, finish our dinner.
I waited as he took out the hot fries from the pan onto a plate lined with paper towels and turned off the gas. His face broke into a gorgeous smile when he turned around and saw me, flashing a dimple.
“Hello, Beautiful,” he greeted me as he hugged me.
“Hey, Handsome,” I returned, smiling back at him.
He leaned forward to kiss me, and I saw the look in his eyes change when he saw the undeniable effect of the hard kisses I had received earlier.
A gentle finger touched the light bruise on my lip. “I’m sorry.”
Shaking my head, I pulled him into my arms for another hug. “Don’t be. I loved every minute.”
I knew it was going to bother him — it always did when the fantasy was over and he was back to being my sweet, darling husband and saw the effects of the hard sex we had as our alter egos.
Running gentle fingers all over me, he checked to reassure himself that I was indeed okay with everything we had done earlier that night. I was used to it, but it always surprised me how my gentle husband could be the rough lover who fucked me senselessly when I needed him to. Having our illicit encounters outside our home added another spice that made the sex even greater. I knew he had suggested that because he couldn’t be rough with me in our matrimonial home, but the perks were phenomenal.
“I’m the luckiest girl ever,” I told him, unable to resist kissing him. I loved this man so much.
“And I’m the luckiest man ever,” he returned, eyes shining with love as he took my hand. “Come on, let’s have dinner before our fries get cold.”
I let him lead me to the table and waited as he served our dinner and added the salad I had brought. I could still feel the sweet pain of a good fuck, and while we ate, I did indeed feel like the luckiest and most loved girl ever.
