She woke up wet again, her cunt throbbing like it had its own heartbeat. Mark had been gone two weeks on that fucking business trip, and every night her fingers weren't enough. She needed a real cock stretching her open, pounding her until she screamed. That morning she didn't even bother with panties under her short robe. The neighbor's kid, Jake, was mowing the lawn next door, shirtless and sweating in the sun. She watched from the kitchen window, rubbing her clit slow while she sipped coffee. Her nipples poked hard against the thin fabric. Fuck it. She was done waiting.
She stepped out onto the back porch and called over the fence. "Jake, you got a minute? My sink's leaking and Mark's not here." He killed the mower and came over, all twenty-two years old and built like he lifted. His eyes dropped straight to her tits when she leaned on the doorframe. "Sure, Mrs. Thompson." She smiled and let the robe slip a little. "Call me Lisa."
Inside, she bent over the counter on purpose, robe riding up to show the bottom curve of her ass. "It's under here," she said, pointing to nothing. Jake crouched behind her and she felt his breath on her thigh. "I don't see anything," he muttered. She reached back and grabbed his hand, shoving it between her legs. "Feel that? That's what needs fixing. I'm fucking soaked."
His fingers slid through her slick folds and she moaned loud. "Jesus, Lisa, you're dripping." She pushed back against his hand. "Then do something about it." He stood up fast, spun her around, and yanked the robe open. Her tits spilled out and he sucked one nipple hard while two fingers shoved straight into her pussy. She grabbed his hair. "Harder, you little fucker. Finger-fuck that horny cunt."
He pumped her fast, thumb smashing her clit, and she came in under a minute, legs shaking, juice running down his wrist. "Good boy," she panted. "Now get that cock out." He dropped his shorts and it sprang up thick and veined, already leaking. She dropped to her knees right there on the kitchen floor and swallowed him deep, gagging on the first thrust. Spit ran down her chin as she bobbed, one hand squeezing his balls. "Fuck my face," she told him, and he did, hips snapping while she choked and slurped.
When she couldn't take it anymore she stood, turned around, and bent over the counter again. "Fuck me. Raw. Fill that married pussy." Jake lined up and slammed in balls-deep in one stroke. She screamed, cunt clenching around him.
He gripped her hips and pounded, the wet slap of skin loud in the quiet house. Every thrust hit her cervix and she loved the ache. "Deeper, fuck, wreck it," she begged. He reached around and rubbed her clit while he drilled her, and she came again, pussy pulsing and squirting a little down her thighs.
They didn't stop there. She dragged him to the living room couch, pushed him down, and climbed on top. She rode him reverse, ass bouncing, tits swinging, telling him exactly how she wanted it. "Harder, slap my ass, call me a slut." He did, hand cracking across her cheeks while she ground her clit against his base. When he said he was close she hopped off, spun around, and took him in her mouth again just in time to swallow every spurt. She milked him dry, licking him clean while he twitched.
They fucked twice more before Mark's flight got in. Once against the wall in the shower, her legs wrapped around Jake's waist while water poured over them. Once on her marital bed, face down, ass up, Jake pulling her hair while he hammered her from behind. She came so many times she lost count. When Jake finally left she was leaking cum down her thighs, robe open, smiling like a satisfied whore.
Mark walked through the door an hour later. She kissed him like nothing happened, but that night she rode him too, telling him how horny she'd been. He never knew his wife's pussy was still slick from the neighbor kid's load. She already had Jake's number saved. Next time Mark left town, she'd have more than one story to tell herself while she touched her swollen cunt.
