The Married Slut (1)

My name is Isabella and this is the story of how I cheated on my husband and enjoyed every second of it.

Rafael was always gone. Work always came first, and I was left in an empty house with more loneliness than love. I swore I would never cross that line, but temptation doesn’t always give warnings.

I had a chance to fuck another man. It happened this morning, and with someone I never expected. It all started the moment Rafael left for work.

“Remember, I won’t be home until eight tonight,” he said as he grabbed his keys.

“Okay, see you later. Love you,” he added, closing the door behind him.

He was gone before I could even reply. The house fell into silence, and that silence felt like permission. I stood in the doorway listening to the garage door hum and fade.

It was my rare day off, and I planned to use it however I pleased. Chores first, maybe a glass of wine in the garden if the weather held. Left alone, my thoughts wandered into the darker places I usually kept locked away.

After what happened with Dan from work last week, I felt like a different woman. The memory of his mouth on me still made me wet. The way he ate my cum replayed in my head every time I touched myself.

Rafael could satisfy me, but not like that. Cheating gave me a rush that was almost more addictive than the sex itself. The filthy things Dan made me do clung to me long after he was gone.

I went to the bedroom and slipped out of my black lace knickers, tossing them aside. My white summer dress clung softly to my skin, and I wore only sandals beneath it. With my long brown hair falling over my shoulders, I knew exactly how I looked—everything Mateo, my neighbor, had always stared at.

I stretched across the bed and spread my legs, brushing my fingers over my mound. The soft texture of hair under my touch only sharpened the ache. When I slid lower and reached my clit, I gasped at the jolt that shot through me.

I imagined another man’s hand instead of my own, a stranger forcing me to surrender in some dark corner of a bar. The fantasy drove me to move faster, deeper into it. I grabbed the pink dildo from my drawer and pressed it against my lips before sliding it inside. My body clenched instantly around the thickness, trembling at the stretch.

In my head, the stranger shoved his cock down my throat, rough and merciless. He used me, and I gave myself up completely. The thought made me quake harder around the toy. My moans filled the room as my pussy tightened, pulling me toward the edge. The orgasm built fast, raw, and merciless.

Then I heard the crash.

The sound ripped me out of it. “What the fuck was that?” I muttered, yanking the toy out and stumbling off the bed. My body still throbbed with need as I followed the noise.

It came from the back of the house. I walked to the sliding glass door and peered outside, only to see a broken plant pot scattered across the deck. Soil and shards littered the ground.

I stepped out to gather the pieces. A cool breeze brushed my pussy and made me shiver. My dress rode up as I crouched, baring my ass to the open air. I cursed under my breath, frustrated with how ridiculous I must have looked horny, exposed, and cleaning up dirt.

That’s when it happened.

A finger pushed into me from behind, hard and deep. I screamed, but a hand clamped down over my mouth before the sound could finish. The finger drilled inside me relentlessly, curling until my knees buckled.

“Hello, Isabella.”

The deep voice slid straight through me. It was Mateo—my neighbor.

He had always looked at me too long. We’d shared polite words across the lawn, but his eyes had always stripped me bare. Now he was pressed against me, his hand smothering my mouth while his finger worked my cunt without pause.

The smashed pot suddenly made sense. He had broken it on purpose. He had waited for Rafael to leave, then made his move. The thought made my pulse race dangerously fast.

I moaned against his palm despite myself. My hips rocked back onto his hand, betraying me. Fear tangled with arousal until I could no longer tell the difference.

“We should go inside,” Mateo murmured in my ear. “I can smell your pussy from here, and it makes my cock ache.” His tone was blunt, a warning and a promise. By the end of the day, he said, I would be soaked in him.

I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. I followed him inside, dizzy with a mix of fear and thrill. Every step closer to the bedroom made my pulse hammer harder.

He slammed the door behind us. Turning to face me, he ordered me to strip. His words were sharp and left no space for hesitation. He promised humiliation, abuse, and cum—and said I would thank him for it.

Hearing those words made my body shake. This was the fuck I had been craving. The kind of degradation Rafael never touched.

Slowly, I reached up and pushed the straps of my dress down my shoulders. The white fabric slipped into a pool at my feet as I stepped out of my sandals and unhooked my bra. I stood completely naked, and I could smell the musky scent rising from my pussy.

The tension in the room pressed against my skin. Mateo had placed a bottle of lube on the bedside table, and the sight of it made my stomach clench. I wondered what exactly he planned to do with it.

His eyes roamed up and down my body, and I felt like a piece of meat under his stare. The thought should have embarrassed me, but it didn’t. It pleased me in a way I didn’t want to admit.

I noticed the bulge straining against his pants, and the sight made my legs tremble. He wanted me badly, and that knowledge made my pussy drip down the inside of my thigh. The thrill of knowing it would all happen in my marital bed made the arousal sharper.

I clenched my ass and panted softly, my chest rising and falling as I watched him undress. Mateo moved with no shame, folding each piece of clothing neatly over the chair as though he had all the time in the world. His confidence was overwhelming, and I found it unbearably sexy.

When his cock sprang free, I froze. It was thick, long, and hard, the veins running down it making the head swell large and angry. My dildo suddenly felt like a child’s toy compared to him.

I prayed he would not decide to take my ass, but I knew I would not stop him if he tried. I would take anything he commanded. I was willing to be his whore.

"I know it’s impressive, slut," he said, gripping his cock. "Get on your knees and suck it. I see your mouth when you smile at Rafael, and I can’t stop picturing it stretched around my dick. He doesn’t fuck you like a real man. Maybe I’ll make him my bitch too. Would you like that, whore?"

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and shoved his cock between my lips. The thick head rammed my throat, and I gagged as my body convulsed. My hand found my clit on its own, rubbing fast and desperate as his cock slammed down my throat again and again.