He didn’t bother with her panties. Not for a good long time, anyways. While his thumb teased her clit, two of his fingers played at her big puffy lips. Every now and then he’d slip the fingers against the fabric against her pussy, rubbing it into Emilia’s wetness. His lips on hers were almost as pleasurable. Milo knew how to kiss — not hard, but with enough force to make her feel wanted, to stoke the passion she’d been missing for so long. And when he dropped his mouth to suck and kiss at her neck, her hips shot wide, and Emilia’s back arched for a second time.
“Oh fuck, Milo, coming again, I’m coming so fucking hard…”
He nipped at her skin. None too softly either — enough that she’d probably bruise. The bite did it for her. The pain and pleasure collided and her words turned into a sob of pure pleasure, her second orgasm hitting her even harder and longer than the first.
His fingers left her — no. That wasn’t quite right. They moved. They finally tugged down her panties, and he went with them, stopping only to pull her skirt up so he could stare at her pussy, dripping the evidence of her orgasms on the leather couch. There would be such a mess to clean up, such a smell of sex, but Emilia didn’t care. She wanted those fingers back inside her, or even better…
“Lick me,” she begged.
“No,” Milo said simply, and pulled the panties down her legs and off. He held them to his face and sighed happily before dropping his shorts and tossing them on top. “Those are mine now. I got to be the first. I’m taking a trophy of my new favorite slut.”
The word rocked Emilia like a slap. A slut. His slut. Jim. Landon. What was she doing? What the everloving fuck was she doing?
But the voice of sanity quieted the moment his hand returned to her sex. Milo leaned above her now as he cupped her pussy and drove two fingers inside her. His other hand rested on his cock and he jerked it slowly. Her eyes and feverish mind fixated on it, and the thoughts of her husband and son disappeared. Milo was so goddamn big. And long.
“Fuck me, please!” she begged, her voice hoarse from the second orgasm.
“No,” Milo said again, almost fondly. He started to say something else, but the doorbell rang. The food. They both forgot about the food. He laughed merrily, and slapped her thigh. “Get up and get that.”
Emilia pushed herself up on shaky elbows. “I’m a mess, I should…”
“I didn’t ask. I told you. If you want our dicks, you’re going to get up and answer the door.”
Emilia whimpered, but sat up and swung her legs off the side of the couch. As she rose, she started to tug back down her skirt, but Milo’s hand shot out and grabbed hers.
“No,” he said again.
“But they’ll see everything,” Emilia whispered. The doorbell rang again and she cast it a sharp look.
“Yes, Mrs. Candless. They will.” He smacked her bare ass. Not lightly, either. It was a good hard spank, one that left his bright red fingerprints in her tanned flesh.
“You can’t do that, you can’t mark me, Jim…”
“Jim? I don’t give a fuck about Jim. You take care of us first.”