“Did you really get snipped?” she asked me as she rested her legs on my lap. I rubbed her calves gently as I sipped my drink.
“Of course. We’re not having kids, and birth control fucks with her system, so why not? It’s not a big deal. Pretty simple procedure.”
She was looking at me with an expression that lingered somewhere between fear, desire, and self-loathing. I hadn’t seen it before, but I quickly decided I liked it.
“Fuck, that’s not fair,” she even as she let one leg drop to the floor; her thighs parted enough for me to get a glimpse up her skirt. “I mean, we still use condoms even though we’ve been married four years. I can’t take the pill and maybe we want kids? I don’t know, we don’t even talk about it anymore. It’s so not fair.”
I slid my hand higher up her leg as she began to unbutton her shirt. We normally slid into sex long before we could talk half this much, but tonight had been different. We sat and drank wine before moving to the couch. We hadn’t so much as kissed.
When I finally touched her, she was soaking wet, and when I put my drink down and leaned in to taste her mouth, she bit me so hard I screamed.
“I want to eat you,” she growled as she climbed onto my lap. She tore at my shirt with a ferocity I had never seen before, and when I tried to undo her skirt she told me there wasn’t time. Her kisses grew more frantic by the second, and even the brief moment when she took me into her mouth felt performative.
The second I was hard, she was back on me, her skirt around her waist and her panties pulled to one side. As she rubbed against me, her wet pussy leaving me slick with her excitement, it occurred to me that we had already been less safe than ever before.
“You want something,” I growled, gripping her ass tightly. “All you have to do is ask for it.”
“It’s not fair,” she moaned as she looked down between us. The head of my cock was against her, and there wasn’t a thing in the way.
“Ask for it,” I said, penetrating her slightly.
“It’s been so fucking long,” she moaned.
“How long?” I asked, loving her neediness as much as anything else. I had never seen her reduced to a quivering mess before and it was intoxicating.
“Since before Tom,” she cried into my shoulder. “A guy in college. It was dangerous but we didn’t care. But this… this is different.”
“Because I don’t have to pull out?” I asked, pulling her to me as I entered her an inch more.
“Oh fuck yes, exactly that. Fuck, Tom’s going to be so angry.”
“Do you want to stop?” I asked, leaning back and raising her skirt so both of us could see our indiscretion. She hung there for what felt like ages, looking down at our junction as her moral mind struggled to make a choice.
And then, without a word, she let go. Her legs relaxed, her thighs opened, and she fell to me, letting me fill her completely. Both of us cried out at the sensation of skin on skin, and we kissed like we meant to do damage. Her cries grew louder and louder as we fucked, and by the time I had her on her back, slamming into her, again and again, she was begging for me to come.
“Are you sure you needy little thing? You want me to come in you? You want come in your pussy for the first time in eight years?”
“Yes!” she moaned, not hesitating for second. “I don’t care anymore, just come you bastard. I don’t care what my husband will think.”
My plan to tease her was instantly replaced by necessity. I kissed her hard, pushed as deep inside her as I could go, my bare cock filling her married pussy to the hilt, and then I let go. I flooded her cunt, over and over again as she begged me never to stop. Never to pull out. Never to stop coming.
The second I was done, I leaned back so I could look at the destruction. When I pulled out, she slid her fingers between her thighs and moaned again as she slowly touched herself, feeling what I had left behind.
“Take a picture,” she said. “Take a picture of me just like this, because Tom will never believe me. After all these years, he’s never once done and now I went ahead and let you because I’m a needy slut and a moron and a terrible wife.”
“What’s he going to do?” I asked, holding the phone up to the explicit scene in front of me.
“He’s going to fuck me until morning,” she said, laughing as she started to come, her fingers sticky and urgent as she cried out one final time.
When she finally slowed down enough to breathe once more, she waved her hand at me like I was a gnat. I finished my drink and got up, wondering if I had broken something.
“Get out of here,” she said. “And don’t think I’ll let you do it again.”
“Whatever you say,” I told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
The following week, when I got her call, I could only smile and laugh. My life had just gotten a tiny bit more interesting.