Sex With The Ex Is The Best

Quinn spots Peter across the room and her mouth curls up like she's spotting free pizza. She doesn't waste a second—grabs his arm, steers him into the shadows, and starts acting like the filthy slut she is. One minute they're catching up, the next his mouth is crammed around her tits and she's moaning like the whole room should watch. Peter wastes nothing, pulling her clothes off piece by piece, licking, sucking, burying his face in her. He drags his tongue between her toes, sucking each one slow, sloppy, keeping her guessing what he'll do next. Then he flips her, spreads her open, and fucks her like he's trying to make up for lost years. Hard, greedy, relentless. Every thrust makes her gasp and clutch at the sheets. I'm over in the corner with a drink, grinning, heart pounding, dick throbbing while this guy who used to date my wife owns her body all over again. He pulls out at the last second and paints her stomach with a fat, messy load. She laughs, sighs, gives him one last kiss on the tip of his dick like thanks for the show. I stay put, watching my filthy wife enjoy the best kind of revenge sex and loving every filthy second of it.