The CEO's Cheating Wife-3

TESSA

The guilt followed me like a shadow after that night on Victor’s desk. I barely slept, replaying every thrust, every filthy word Taylor had growled while he filled me. I had called my own husband’s name while another man ruined me. The shame should have made me sick. Instead, my body kept betraying me. Every time I thought about it, my pussy grew wet again.

Victor announced a last-minute business trip to our private island villa. Just the three of us on the company jet. I tried to back out. I told him I was not feeling well. He insisted.

Taylor would be joining us as usual.

The moment we boarded the sleek private jet, I knew I was in trouble. Victor sat in the front cabin working on his laptop. Taylor and I were supposed to sit behind him, separated by a privacy partition.

As soon as the plane reached cruising altitude, Taylor unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Taylor, no,” I whispered urgently, gripping the armrest. My heart raced. “Victor is right there. This is too dangerous. We have to stop this before it destroys everything.”

He ignored me. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the back of the plane where the long leather bench seat stretched across the rear cabin. Turbulence rattled the jet as he pushed me down onto my stomach.

“Stop fighting it, Tessa,” he murmured, yanking my dress up over my hips. “You wore this tiny thong for me. I know you did.”

I whimpered, trying to push myself up. “Please. Not here. Not with him so close. I cannot keep doing this to my husband.”

But my protest died the second he pulled my thong aside and dragged two thick fingers through my soaked folds.

“Fuck, you are dripping again,” he groaned. “Your married cunt is soaked for me even while you pretend you want to stop.”

He pushed three fingers inside me without warning, stretching me open. I bit the leather seat to muffle my moan. The wet, squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out were loud in the small cabin. Every curl of his fingers made fresh juices run down my thighs.

Turbulence shook the plane harder. It masked the noise as Taylor freed his massive cock and rubbed the thick head up and down my slit.

“Tell me to stop,” he taunted, pressing just the tip inside me. “Say it and I will walk away right now.”

I hesitated, tears of guilt stinging my eyes. “We should not… Victor is my husband. This is wrong. So fucking wrong.”

Taylor slammed into me in one brutal thrust.

I cried out into the seat as he buried every inch deep inside my pussy. He was so thick, so hard. The piercing drag of his cockhead made my toes curl.

“Too late,” he growled, gripping my hips and starting to pound me mercilessly. “This pussy is mine now.”

He fucked me hard and fast, hips slapping loudly against my ass. The plane’s turbulence only added to the intensity, making each thrust feel deeper, wilder. My juices coated his shaft, dripping down my thighs with every powerful stroke.

I hated how good it felt. How full he made me. “Taylor… slower… please… I feel so guilty,” I gasped between moans, even as I pushed back to meet his thrusts.

He reached around and rubbed my swollen clit roughly. “Then why are you creaming all over my cock, Mrs. Flaire? Your husband is twenty feet away and you are letting me destroy this married pussy.”

The words pushed me over the edge. I came hard, my walls clamping down around him, gushing wetly as my orgasm ripped through me. Taylor did not slow down. He fucked me through it, grunting with every deep slam.

Suddenly the plane hit stronger turbulence. The seatbelt sign dinged.

Victor’s voice carried from the front cabin. “Everything okay back there?”

I froze, panic flooding me. Taylor was still buried balls-deep inside me, his cock throbbing.

“Fine, sir,” Taylor called back, voice impressively steady. “Just some rough air.”

The second Victor went quiet, Taylor pulled out, flipped me onto my back, and hooked my legs over his shoulders. He slammed back inside me in the new position, even deeper now.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to watch your face while I breed you.”

He pounded me relentlessly, the wet slap of our bodies mixing with the roar of the engines. My tits bounced wildly. I came again, biting my lip so hard it bled, shame and ecstasy twisting together inside me.

Taylor’s rhythm turned erratic. “Gonna fill you up right before we land. Want you greeting your husband with my cum running down your legs.”

“No… pull out… please…” I begged weakly, even as my pussy clenched greedily around him.

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a deep groan. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded my womb, pulse after heavy pulse. So much that it immediately started leaking out around his cock as he kept grinding through his orgasm.

He stayed inside me until the pilot announced our descent.

When he finally pulled out, a huge gush of his cum poured onto the leather seat. Taylor quickly scooped most of it up with his fingers and pushed it back inside my swollen pussy.

“Keep it in there,” he ordered. “I want you soaked with my load when you kiss Victor hello.”

I fixed my dress with trembling hands, guilt crushing my chest. My thighs were sticky. My pussy felt thoroughly used and full.

As the plane landed and the door opened, Victor waited on the tarmac with a small smile.

I walked down the stairs on shaky legs, Taylor’s cum slowly leaking into my thong with every step.

Victor pulled me into a quick hug and kissed my cheek. “Missed you, darling.”

I smiled up at him, Taylor’s warm load still deep inside me, and whispered, “Missed you too.”

But as Taylor stepped off the plane behind me, his eyes dark with possession, I realized the real problem.

I was no longer sure I wanted to stop.

And Victor had just invited Taylor to stay at the villa with us for the entire week.