ログインtext came through while I was folding laundry the next afternoon. My phone buzzed on the dresser and my heart slammed against my ribs before I even read it. Back door’s unlocked. Come get what you need. No greeting. No explanation. Just that one filthy command from Robert. Alex was at the gym, gone for at least two hours, and the house suddenly felt too quiet, too empty. My pussy clenched so hard I had to squeeze my thighs together. I didn’t even think. I grabbed my keys, slipped on a loose sundress with nothing underneath, and drove the three blocks to his place like a woman possessed. I parked in the alley like some cheap whore making a house call. The back door was cracked open exactly like he said. I pushed it quietly and stepped inside, heart hammering, nipples already tight and aching against the thin fabric. Robert was waiting in the living room, sprawled on the big leather couch like he owned the world. He’d changed into black gym shorts and a white tank top that sho
My name is Mia, and I’ve been married to Alex for two years now. On paper, everything looks perfect—nice house in the suburbs, a decent job, Sunday brunches with the family. But the truth is, my pussy has been aching for the wrong man since the day I met him. His name is Robert. My father-in-law. He’s fifty-two, built like a man who still works with his hands—broad shoulders, thick arms, a chest that strains against every shirt he wears. Salt-and-pepper hair, a jaw that could cut glass, and that deep, gravelly voice that hits me right between the legs every single time he says my name. “Mia.” Just one word and my clit throbs like a needy little slut. Alex was passed out upstairs that humid Saturday night, face-down in our bed after pounding too many beers during the game. I’d come downstairs in nothing but a thin white tank top and tiny cotton shorts, the kind that ride up my ass when I walk. I told myself I was just getting a glass of water. Bullshit. I knew Robert was still aw
The bus slowed for the next stop, but instead of people getting off, five more squeezed on. The crowd surged, crushing me harder against the pole and pinning the stranger’s body even tighter to my back. His chest was solid muscle; I could feel the steady thump of his heart against my shoulder blades. His hand never left me. If anything, the new press of bodies gave him better cover. “Please…” I whispered again, my voice shaky and barely louder than the engine. My fingers were still wrapped around his wrist under my dress, but I wasn’t pushing as hard anymore. “There are people right next to us. Stop.” His low chuckle vibrated against my ear. “They’re all looking the other way, baby. No one knows I’ve got my hand up your little sundress.” His fingers hooked into the soaked crotch of my panties and tugged them roughly to the side. Cool air hit my exposed pussy for half a second before two thick fingers dragged slowly through my slick folds. I gasped sharply, eyes squeezing shut.
The bus was a sweaty, suffocating nightmare. Friday evening rush hour in the city, and every inch of space was claimed by strangers pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip. I stood near the middle pole, one hand gripping the overhead rail so tightly my knuckles were white. My short yellow sundress — the one I’d thrown on this morning because it was too hot for anything else — had already ridden up my thighs from all the bumping and swaying. At 22, I was used to crowded public transport, but tonight felt different. Too close. Too many bodies. The bus lurched forward as it pulled away from the stop. I stumbled slightly, and that’s when I felt him. A solid wall of a man pressed right up against my back. Tall. Broad. The kind of hard chest and stomach that told me he worked out. His body heat seeped through my thin dress instantly, and I could smell him — clean sweat, faint cologne, and something darker, masculine. The crowd shifted again, and instead of stepping back, he stayed gl
Marcus’s hands were shaking as he stood outside Mia’s door at 12:47 a.m. His wife’s snoring had been steady for the last forty minutes, but the old house creaked every time the AC kicked on. One wrong noise and she could climb the stairs. One loud moan from Mia and the life he knew would end. His cock was already leaking in his boxers, a dark wet spot spreading across the front. He slipped inside, locked the door, and let his eyes adjust to the moonlight. Mia was on her back, legs spread wide like her body already knew what was coming. The tank top was twisted high, both full tits completely exposed, nipples hard and dark pink. Her sleep shorts were shoved down to mid-thigh, the crotch soaked through and clinging to her puffy pussy lips. A thin string of her arousal glistened on her inner thigh. Marcus climbed onto the bed between her legs, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. He peeled the shorts the rest of the way off and dropped them on the floor. Then he
Marcus didn’t wait until 1 a.m. this time. It was 12:52 a.m. when he stood outside Mia’s door, cock already throbbing so hard in his boxers that a wet spot had soaked through the front. His heart hammered against his ribs. Downstairs, his wife’s snoring was loud and steady through the thin walls — she’d taken a sleeping pill after her shift. Still, every creak of the old house made his stomach tighten. One wrong sound and she could wake up. One wrong moan from upstairs and everything ends. He turned the knob slowly, slipped inside, and locked the door with a soft click that felt deafening. Mia was on her side this time, facing away from him, curled slightly like she was hugging her pillow. The thin white tank top had bunched up under her arms, leaving her entire back and the side of one full, perky tit exposed. Her pink sleep shorts were wedged high between her cheeks, the crotch soaked dark again. A faint, sweet scent of her arousal hung in the warm air of the room. Marcus’s







