Hubby Walks in at the Money Shot

Mark and I had been close since college, shared apartments, wingmanned each other through bad breakups, and even started a small gym together. His wife, Lauren, was the kind of woman who turned heads without trying: long auburn hair, green eyes that sparkled when she laughed, and a body that stayed toned from years of yoga. Full breasts, a narrow waist, and an ass that filled out her leggings perfectly. I’d always noticed, but I kept it locked down until that one afternoon when everything changed.

Mark had been traveling for work more and more, leaving Lauren alone in their big suburban house. She’d started texting me casually, asking for help with heavy boxes, then inviting me over for drinks “since Mark’s gone again.” I told myself it was harmless. One Thursday, she messaged: “Can you come fix the shelf in the guest room? I’ll make lunch.” I showed up in jeans and a t-shirt, toolbox in hand.

Lauren opened the door in a thin white tank top and tiny denim shorts, no bra. Her nipples pressed against the fabric, dark and obvious. She hugged me a little too long, her body soft against mine. “Thanks for coming,” she murmured, lips brushing my ear. “I’ve been so bored.”

We ate sandwiches in the kitchen, flirting lightly at first, her foot nudging mine under the table, laughing at my dumb jokes. Then she leaned forward, cleavage spilling into view. “Mark’s been gone two weeks. I’m going crazy,” she admitted, voice low. “I miss… being touched.”

My pulse raced. “Lauren…”

She stood and walked around the table, straddling my lap before I could finish. “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it, Ryan.” Her hips ground slowly against the bulge already growing in my jeans. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

I groaned, hands sliding up her thighs. “Fuck, I want it.”

That was all she needed. She kissed me hard, tongue slipping into my mouth, tasting like sweet wine. My hands roamed under her tank top, cupping her heavy breasts, thumbs circling her hard nipples. She moaned into the kiss, rocking faster against me.

We stumbled to the living room couch, clothes coming off in a frenzy. Her tank top hit the floor, revealing perfect tits, full D-cups with pale pink areolas. I sucked one nipple while pinching the other, making her gasp. “Yes, just like that. Bite them.”

She tugged my shirt off, nails raking down my chest, then dropped to her knees to unbuckle my belt. My cock sprang free, thick and veined, already leaking precum. Lauren licked her lips. “God, you’re bigger than Mark,” she whispered, stroking me slowly. 

She took me into her mouth, warm, wet, eager. Her tongue swirled around the head while her hand pumped the shaft. I threaded my fingers through her hair, guiding her deeper. She gagged slightly but didn’t stop, eyes watering as she looked up at me. “Fuck my mouth,” she mumbled around me.

I did, thrusting gently at first, then harder as she moaned encouragement. Saliva dripped down her chin onto her breasts. The sight was unreal, my best friend’s wife on her knees, worshipping my cock like she was starving for it.

After minutes of heaven, she pulled off, gasping. “I need you inside me. Now.”

She pushed me back onto the couch and climbed on top, guiding my cock to her entrance. 

She was soaked, no panties under those shorts. She sank down slowly, inch by inch, her tight pussy stretching around me. “Oh fuck, you’re so deep,” she whimpered, bottoming out with a shudder.

She started riding me reverse cowgirl first, giving me a perfect view of her ass bouncing as she slammed down. I gripped her hips, thrusting up to meet her. The room filled with wet slaps and her loud moans. “Harder, Ryan. Fuck me like he doesn’t.”

I flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy was pink and glistening, clit swollen. I slid back in with one thrust, making her cry out. I pounded her missionary, breasts jiggling with every stroke, her nails digging into my back. “Yes! Make me cum on your cock.” she begged.

I reached down to rub her clit in fast circles. She arched, walls clenching around me as her orgasm hit. “I’m cumming! Don’t stop—fuck!”

Juices flooded around my cock as she shook beneath me. I slowed but didn’t stop, drawing it out until she was panting. Then she pushed me off with a wicked grin. “I want you from behind.”

She got on all fours on the couch, ass in the air, looking back at me. 

I knelt behind her, sliding in deep. The angle was perfect, tighter, hotter. I grabbed her hair, pulling her head back as I railed her. She pushed back greedily, meeting every thrust. “Pull my hair harder. Treat me like your slut.”

I spanked her ass, leaving red handprints. She moaned louder. “Again! Mark never does this.”

We switched positions again, she rode me cowgirl, facing me this time, grinding her clit against my pelvis while I sucked her bouncing tits. Sweat slicked our bodies. I was getting close, the pressure building in my balls.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” I warned, voice rough.

She sped up, slamming down harder. “Cum on my face,” she demanded breathlessly. “I want to feel it hot on my skin.”

That pushed me right to the edge. I lifted her off and stood, stroking fast as she knelt in front of me, mouth open, tongue out, eyes locked on mine. “Give it to me, Ryan. Shoot that big load all over me.”

I groaned loud as the first rope erupted, thick, white, splattering across her cheek and lips. The second hit her tongue, the third her forehead, dripping down. She moaned, catching what she could, rubbing the head against her nipples as more pulses coated her chest.

That’s when the front door opened.

Mark walked in early, suitcase in hand, keys still jingling. He froze in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the scene: his naked wife on her knees, face and tits glazed with my cum, me standing over her with my cock still twitching in my hand.

Time stopped. Lauren gasped, cum dripping from her chin. I couldn’t move, heart pounding.

Mark dropped his bag. His face went from shock to something darker, anger, betrayal, but also… something else. His eyes lingered on Lauren’s cum-covered body, then flicked to me.

“What… the fuck?” he finally said, voice low.

Lauren wiped a streak from her lip, surprisingly calm. “Baby… you’re home early.”

I grabbed my jeans, stammering. “Mark, I—”

He stepped closer, eyes never leaving his wife’s marked skin. “You couldn’t even wait till I was out of town properly?” But his voice wasn’t just angry. There was a huskiness to it.

Lauren stood slowly, cum still glistening on her. She walked to him, hips swaying. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but didn’t sound sorry at all. She reached for his belt. “But look what he did to me… don’t you want to reclaim it?”

Mark’s breath hitched. He didn’t stop her as she unzipped him.

I stood there, half-dressed, watching as Lauren dropped to her knees again, this time in front of her husband. My cum still on her face, she took him into her mouth.

And somehow, impossibly, he hardened instantly.

The afternoon was far from over.