A FabSwingers chat. A photo of her on their bed in just her glasses. He said he could do twenty minutes.
$name1 sent the address from the kitchen.
A FabSwingers chat. A photo of $name1 on their bed in just her glasses. He said he could do twenty minutes. $name1 told her husband to sit on the landing this time — not in the room, the doorway. $name1 wanted him to hear it before he saw it.
The knock came at the front door.
$name1 opened it in a T-shirt and nothing else. He was older than the last one. White. Heavy in the shoulders. When $name1 took him through to the living room and got his cock out on the sofa, her husband saw from the stairs that this one was thick rather than long — a fat white cock that filled $name1’s fist and then some. $name1 dropped to her knees on the rug and sucked him there, sloppy, glasses looking up, gagging when she tried to take it, spit on her chin, while the floorboards on the landing creaked under her husband’s feet.
$name1 lay back on the sofa they watched TV on.
$name1 pulled the T-shirt up over her heavy tits and opened her thick thighs. He pushed into $name1 in one go and the sound $name1 made carried up the stairs. He fucked $name1 in deep, heavy missionary, the leather squealing, $name1’s foot slipping off the cushion onto the floor. $name1 came with her hand over her mouth and then took the hand away so her husband would hear the next one. He hooked $name1’s knees back and ground into her, wet slaps filling the house. $name1 came again, messier, glasses crooked, dripping onto the sofa cushion.
He didn’t last much longer.
He drove into $name1 and finished inside her with a grunt, pulsing, filling her on the family sofa while $name1’s husband stood on the landing and listened to it happen. He pulled out. $name1 stayed on her back with her T-shirt around her ribs, thighs still open, his cum already running out of $name1 onto the leather in a thick line.
$name1 looked toward the stairs.
$name1 didn’t close her legs. $name1 let her husband come down and see it before it soaked in.
