Behind Hubby's Back

Axel practically yanks the phone cord out of the wall waiting for Pristine to answer. The guy's basically drooling and flashing her a cocky grin through the speaker, which somehow drags her out of bed even with her husband snoring an inch away. Last time she did this she'd promised herself it was a one-off; marriage vows weren't meant to buckle under a pretty Brit with bedroom eyes and zero patience. Axel hadn't stopped thinking about it either. Night after night he pictures her mouth, and now she's barefoot on his rug, stripped down before her own protest can land. She drops to her knees, wet lips swallowing him greedily while his thumbs spread her cheeks open like he's claiming territory. A moment later she's flipped around, lowering onto his tongue so he can drag it over every soft, slick fold; her thighs shake and he groans against her skin. Needy, she slides down again, guiding his length into her cunt, bouncing herself deep, pace quickening every time the shaft kisses her limit. Axel nudges at her ass—he can almost taste the urge—but she flashes him a laugh and shakes her head, seizing the compromise instead: feet on his cock, pretty toes rubbing slow circles that have him swearing and almost begging. But there’s no shortage of her to take, so he flips her onto her back, pistoning in again, making her pussy his own private playground while they both struggle not to wake the whole floor laughing through the moans.