She came home late, heels clicking on the hardwood, dress riding up her thighs like it wanted to show off what she'd been doing. I was on the couch, beer in hand, when she dropped her bag and looked at me with that smirk that always meant trouble.
"I fucked him again," she said, straight out, no buildup. "The guy from the gym. Bent over his car in the parking lot like a cheap whore."
My cock twitched instantly. This was how it went with us now. Her wife sexual stories got dirtier every time, and I ate them up raw.
"Tell me," I growled, already unzipping. "Every fucking detail."
She kicked off her shoes, hiked her dress to her waist, and straddled my lap without asking. Her panties were soaked through. She ground down on my hard dick through my jeans while she talked.
"He grabbed my hair and shoved me against the hood. Told me to spread my legs. I did it right there, ass up, skirt around my hips. He ripped my panties to the side and slammed his cock in deep. No warmup, just straight fucking. Felt so good I moaned like a slut."
Her voice was low and nasty, hips rolling slow. I yanked her dress down, freed her tits, and sucked hard on one nipple while she kept going.
"He pounded me so hard the car rocked. Every thrust hit my cervix. I came once just from that, clenching around his thick shaft. Then he pulled out, spun me around, and made me suck him clean. I tasted my own pussy on him and begged for more."
I shoved two fingers into her wet cunt right then, feeling how slick she still was from the other guy. She gasped but didn't stop talking.
"After I sucked him off, he bent me back over and fucked my ass. First time for that. Hurt like hell at first but I pushed back on it like a greedy bitch. Came again when he filled my ass with cum."
She was riding my fingers now, clit grinding against my palm. I pulled my cock out and she sank down on it in one motion, taking every inch.
"Fuck, yes," she hissed. "Your turn. Use this married pussy the way he did."
I gripped her hips and thrust up hard, pounding into her while she kept spilling more wife sexual stories. How she'd let two guys at the office take turns on her during lunch. How she'd sucked off a stranger in a bar bathroom last week, swallowing every drop. Each filthy word made me fuck her rougher.
She came screaming, pussy clamping down, juices running down my balls. I flipped her onto the couch, face down, ass up, and drove back in from behind.
"Keep talking," I ordered, slapping her ass red. "Tell me what a dirty wife you are."
She did, voice muffled in the cushions but loud enough. "I let him cum on my face in the elevator once. Walked around the building with his load drying on my cheeks. Felt like such a used slut."
I buried myself balls-deep and unloaded, flooding her cunt while she kept grinding back, milking every drop. We didn't stop there. She sucked me hard again, telling another story about letting her ex fuck her raw on our anniversary, and I took her on the floor, then against the wall, then bent over the kitchen counter.
By the time we collapsed, sweaty and spent, she'd shared six different wife sexual stories, each one dirtier than the last. She looked at me with that satisfied, wrecked smile.
"Tomorrow I'm meeting the gym guy again," she whispered. "Want me to bring home video this time?"
I was already hard again. "Fuck yes."
She climbed on top once more, sliding my cock back inside her cum-filled pussy, and started another story before we even began moving.
