Hot Sex with a Cheating Wife, I bit her nipples harder than before taking care not to leave marks, and smacked her pussy repeatedly until she wiggled with pleasure, cumming in a wave of ecstasy and delight in one combined motion. I rubbed her clit until the wave ran out. Her eyes looked at me full of want.
Did I know it was wrong? Of course I did.
But I justified to myself like this…
‘Would I like someone fucking my wife?’
‘No way!’
But right now I am not married. And I was just fucking. She was just another client. She was the one with a partner so it was her who was cheating not me.
Ella was 28. An African-American girl. A soft soul to most. She lived the highlife her city banker husband provided.
They ate out most nights and the highlight of Ella’s day was getting ready to go out a shopping trip or workout. Sometime she hung with the social set. That’s where she got my details from.
My name is Richard. I’m 44, fit and handy with my tools, if you know what I mean.
In theory I work as a handyman but really I have never fixed a thing except a customer’s yearning for a good fucking. I’m a woman’s entertainment. Where she can get what she needs and walk away clean. Well mostly.
I have met ‘the set’ as I call them, often. It seems that I am a rite of passage. Many times I have seen them together at lunch or dinner. Then I get call a booking me for a few hours of enjoyment.
Each one is different. Some want conversation; some bury my face in their pussy. Mostly they all have needs their husbands either can’t or just won’t scratch. And that’s where I come in.
Ella was beautiful. As I said, a soft soul to most. Except me. To me she was as nasty as the ladies from Sodom and Gomorrah. She took all I could give and always begged for more.
On this occasion she called and arranged for me to be at her place at 11am. Most have me there between 11 and 2.30pm after their partners leave and before school pick up.
I walked to the door with my tool belt around my hips. I rang the doorbell and Ella answered wearing a black flowing short dress. I knew what she needed me to fix.
As I walked in she closed the big door behind me.
Her place was beautiful – a marble staircase swooped around lined with original paintings and family photographs and leading up to heaven. To the left through an archway was a huge home cinema. Comforts included massive leather sofas, a large entertainment unit stacked with games, massive stereo with surround-sound and a flat screen TV that took up half a wall.
All of this at her disposal… and Ella was still unhappy.
Her husband put her on a pedestal and made soft, tender love to her nightly. But none of it was what she craved and needed. She loves her man with all her heart and would never leave him or want to hurt him in any way. She just needs, craves, to be taken and enjoyed, thrashed and used like a good woman should be.
As soon as I walked in I grabbed her and pushed her into the door, as it slammed shut. Lifting her up off the floor I shoved my hand up her dress and ripped away her tiny G-string. Ella partly resisted so I dropped her, grabbed her dress and ripped it off over her head tossing it to the floor.