John was mowing the back lawn when Emily from next door hopped the fence in her cutoff shorts and tank top. She was twenty, home from college for the summer, and she had that look in her eye like she wanted something. He killed the mower and wiped sweat from his forehead.
"You need help with anything, Mr. Thompson?" she asked, stepping close enough that he could smell her sunscreen and the faint scent of her shampoo.
"My wife's gone for the week," he said, not sure why he mentioned it. "Just trying to keep up the yard."
Emily smiled, slow and dirty. "I could help. Or I could just fuck you instead."
John stared. "What the hell did you say?"
"I said I want to fuck you. Right now. Your wife isn't here. My parents are at work. I've been thinking about your cock for months." She grabbed the front of his shorts and squeezed. He was already half hard. "Feels like you're thinking about it too."
He should have told her to leave. Instead he let her pull him inside through the sliding door. Emily shoved him against the kitchen counter and dropped to her knees. She yanked his shorts down and took his dick in her mouth without another word.
Hot, wet, and greedy. She sucked hard, cheeks hollowing, spit running down his shaft while her hand pumped the base.
"Fuck," John groaned. He grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth deeper. Emily moaned around him like she loved it.
She pulled off with a wet pop and stood up, stripping fast. Tank top off, no bra, small tits with hard pink nipples. Shorts and panties down in one motion. She was shaved smooth and already glistening. "Bend me over the table," she said. "I want you to wreck me."
John spun her around and pushed her chest down on the kitchen table. He lined up and drove his cock straight into her tight cunt in one thrust. Emily cried out, loud and filthy. "Yes, fuck me like that. Pound that married dick into me."
He did. Hard and fast, hips slapping her ass. The table legs scraped the floor with every thrust. Her pussy gripped him like a fist, slick and hot. John reached under and rubbed her clit while he fucked her. Emily pushed back, meeting every stroke.
"Harder," she begged. "Make me come on your cock."
He slammed into her until she shook and clenched around him, moaning like a slut. Her juices ran down his balls. John didn't stop. He pulled out, flipped her onto her back on the table, and shoved back inside. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He watched her tits bounce while he drilled her.
Emily reached down and spread her pussy lips wider for him. "Come inside me," she said. "Fill me up. I want to feel that married cum dripping out of me all day."
John grunted and let go. He buried himself deep and pumped thick ropes of cum into her cunt. Emily kept her legs locked, milking every drop. When he finally pulled out, his load leaked from her stretched hole onto the table.
She sat up, scooped some on her fingers, and licked it off. "Tastes good," she said. "My turn to return the favor later. Maybe tomorrow when your wife is still gone."
John caught his breath, dick still twitching. Emily grabbed her clothes but didn't put them on right away. She walked to the door naked, cum running down her thigh. "Text me if you want round two. Or three."
She left. John stood there in the kitchen, shorts around his ankles, wondering how the hell a college girl offering sex had just turned into the best fuck of his life. He already knew he'd be texting her.
