His breathing is becoming quicker.
His cock is just touching the lips of my pussy.
I beg him to enter me. He holds himself where he is. I move my hips, but he lifts himself.
I want his cock, I need his cock, I must feel him inside of me. I beg, but he does not give in.
“Why are you tormenting me?”
“Did you fuck your husband this Christmas?” he asked.
I told him, that although I was supposed to, I had not.
“I like when you are a slut. I need you to be my whore.”
“I am your adulterous whore, but the kid was home, and when he finally left, I was simply too tired.”
He knows I am lying. He always knows.
He told me, come back tomorrow, after I fucked my husband, and with his come still inside of me. He got up from me and left.
He was right, I knew it, I simply didn’t desire my husband this Christmas, I wanted to be with him. I wanted to enjoy being fucked, and I wanted something longer than a few minutes. So, now, I pay my penance. I was so close to having him inside of me, so close to feeling him, touching him, tasting him — so close.