© August 2003 Jordan Shelbourne
For Jenny
Her house. She was there; I could see her through the windows in the kitchen. Her husband was away. I didn't know where; I didn't care. I had parked a block away and it was easy to slip in through the back door.
She gave a little startled shriek when I came into the kitchen. "My God," she said, "you scared the daylights out of me."
"Sorry." She's a pretty lady, though you'll rarely hear her admit it. "I wanted to--"
"I'm so glad to see--" she started at the same time. Brief laughter. Not nervous laughter, but with something bubbling underneath. At least for me.
She grabbed my hands and pulled me close for a kiss. Usually we do this little dance, where we have a light kiss and then a heavier kiss, exploring one another's mood. (I'm not sure why; our moods almost always lead to fucking. More efficient to assume fucking, I guess, but not nearly as polite.) No light kiss today. My kiss was immediately heavy, invasive, sexual. Not polite at all.
"What was that?" I saw--or hoped I saw--delight dancing in her eyes.
"Are you a slut today?" I said as I brought my hands up to her breasts. Sweet heavy breasts, round and full, and sensitive.
"Mmmmmm," she said, as she closed her eyes, then opened them again. "You're rough today."
"I need to fuck you."
"I like it."
"Are you a slut today?" I repeated as I unfastened her shorts and thrust them to the floor.
"Feel how wet I am." I did. She was. Her pussy lips were already slick and swollen semi-stiff. So fucking sexy. I might have said it aloud.
She reached down to the left leg of my shorts, where the head of my cock was protruding, and she ran her thumb over it. "How come this isn't in me yet?" she asked me.
"Take off my shorts."
"Fuck me with them on."
I hiked up the leg of the baggy shorts and my cock popped up and free. She squeezed the shaft with her hand and sighed happily.
"From behind," I told her, and she waved her ass at me. I held her hips with both hands and pressed my cock against her. There was that moment of flexion as her body adjusted to mine and then I slid right into her pussy, her all hot and wet and tight and nothing but sex.
I stopped thinking right then. All I felt was her, and that length of me that was in her. All I heard was wet skin on skin and the slap of my hips on her ass, and the distant jingle of china as each hard thrust was transmitted through her to the counter and beyond.
I think she came, but I don't know. I was close to coming, so close, and she was pushing back at me, both of us grunting with sweaty passion and I knew I was going to come soon, soon, another stroke, two, three, soon dammit when she gasped.
I heard the sound of a motor and chain. The garage door opener.
Her husband.
I couldn't stop--I kept fucking her, three, two, one, and my sperm poured from me and then I couldn't leave because I didn't want to leave a trail of come on the floor.
"Oh, fuck," she moaned as I finally pulled out, and she was already bending down to get her shorts. I was out the back door in an instant, trying to tug my shorts down over my still-hard cock. Not enough time to get across the yard unseen; I ducked under the kitchen window.
He sounded irritated. "What are you doing with your hands in your pants? In the kitchen?"
"Hey," she said to him breathlessly. "You want to fool around?"
"In the daytime?"
"I know," she said. "I'm such a slut."