I opened my eyes and looked at the clock on the nightstand – it read 4:03 AM. It was a warm night and the bedroom windows were open, the curtains billowing lightly in the breeze, soft moonlight illuminating the room. There was a stirring in the bed beside me. She leaned over me, her naked breasts brushing my bare chest, and placed her lips on mine. She was pushing some kind of tablet into my mouth. It tasted like mint.
"Good morning, lover," she whispered, "It's only a breath mint. You can't be too careful, you know."
She smiled.
I rolled the mint around in my mouth. I pulled her head toward me and kissed her, our tongues intertwining as we passed the mint back and forth between us.
"I understand," I said, smiling back. I felt her climb on top of me, reach down to grab my dick, and then slip a condom over it. She said, "What do you think? Feel like having some more fun??" I had a feeling that this was going to be the beginning of a really good day.
She rubbed the tip of my dick around the lips of her pussy a little and then slowly lowered herself down, settling her weight on me. She let out a soft moan.
"You know, I really had a lot of fun last night," she said. She started to move up and down slowly, grinding her pelvis into mine, her tight pussy just squeezing even tighter against my throbbing dick. We kissed again.
Last night she had been tending bar at D.B.'s Bar and Grill, a mysterious-looking brunette with a wonderful figure and soulful eyes. I asked her what time she got off and she had smiled playfully and said, well, that would depend on me. Needless to say, we hit it off pretty well and I spent the entire night chatting her up at the bar. After the place closed I followed her home and when we got inside, she wheeled around, pushed me up against the door, closing it, and quickly yanked my pants down around my ankles; then she proceeded to give me the best blowjob I'd ever had. The evening only got better from there.
"Me too, I'm glad I finally struck up the nerve to talk to you," I said.
We didn't say too much after that, grunting and moaning being our only form of communication for the moment. We settled into a slow and steady rhythm, picking up speed occasionally and then sliding back into a wonderfully slow groove. I could just make out the details of her lovely body in the moonlight, her slender waist and firm, full breasts, the large nipples erect. I reached up, palming her tits and tweaking the nipples with my thumbs. She raised her arms above her head, pulling her long, dark hair up in a pile, as she closed her eyes and concentrated on my dick sliding in and out of her wet pussy. Her tits jiggled softly with the force of her movements and pretty soon it seemed like we were both approaching the ecstasy of orgasm, when she stopped abruptly and said, "What was that?"
I paused and was about to say that I hadn't heard anything, just keep fucking, when she put her hand to my lips and said, "Shh, wait."
I listened intently for a few more seconds and then I heard it: the unmistakable sound of a door closing somewhere downstairs. She moved her hand away from my mouth.
"I thought you said your husband was out of town," I hissed.
"He is... or was. Evidently he came back early and didn't bother to tell me," she said.
"He probably thinks I'm cheating on him and is trying to catch me in the act," she added.
"Well, you are and he is about to," I said, an edge of panic in my voice.
"Shh."
She looked over her shoulder at the bedroom door, seemingly waiting for something. Then she turned back around and looked down at me, brushing her hair away from her eyes and smiling, sensing my anxiety.
"Relax," she whispered, "I know him. He'll go to the bathroom first. We have time. Just wait."
She sat there on top of me – both of us breathing heavily, my dick still shoved way up inside of her – for what seemed like an eternity and I was about to say fuck it, jump out of bed, grab my clothes (wherever I had carelessly tossed them last night), and jump out the nearest window, when I heard a door close somewhere nearby and then the sound of an exhaust fan running.
"See, he'll be in there for a while. It must have been a long trip," she said. She leaned down and kissed me, adding, "I'd say we have at least ten minutes, maybe more."
So, what the hell, we continued fucking. It was hard to say no when my dick was buried deep in her pussy. And for some reason it was more exciting now; perhaps, perversely, because of the possibility we would get caught.
She came at least once while she was jumping up and down on top of me, at times her ecstatic moans becoming worrisome. I kept expecting the bathroom door to fly open at those moments and see her angry husband glowering at us from the doorway with murder in his eyes and a wad of toilet paper in his hand. I rolled her over then and fucked her missionary style, mostly so that when she got too loud I could lean down and shove my tongue in her mouth to shut her up.
After a few minutes passed she came again (man, she had a hair-trigger pussy) and then, before I could do anything, she immediately pushed me aside and scurried around me to the end of the bed. She was on all fours facing the dresser against the far wall, shaking her ass at me as she looked around and said, "Now fuck me from behind. Hard."
I couldn't get to her fast enough. I rushed over with my stiff cock in my hand and shoved it into her, her pussy so welcoming I nearly blew my load inside of her right then. We picked up where we had left off, humping like mad. I grabbed the firm flesh of her ass, slid my arms up along her waist and cupped her breasts, as I fucked her just like she had asked: hard. We were going at it faster and faster, her hair swinging back and forth and droplets of perspiration forming on our naked bodies, both of us grunting with the pleasantness of the effort, when the bathroom door quietly swung open throwing a rectangle of light on the floor at the foot of the bed.
We both froze and I swear that my life flashed before my eyes. I knew we were doomed and waited breathlessly for the screaming and the yelling to begin. Now, I don't know how her husband didn't hear our grunting and moaning or the fevered squeaking of the mattress or the knocking of the headboard against the wall – perhaps because the sound of the exhaust fan coming from the bathroom muffled the noises we were making, I'll never know – but all he did was simply shuffle slowly, almost zombie-like, into the bedroom on his way to the dresser, rubbing his eyes with his fists and yawning. He trudged over to the dresser that was facing the bed, pulled open a drawer, grabbed some socks or underwear or something, closed the drawer and made the (thankfully) short journey back to the bathroom, still rubbing his eyes and yawning the entire way, the wad of socks or underwear or whatever it was still clutched tightly in his fist. When he reached the bathroom, he closed the door behind him and, a few seconds later, flushed the toilet. Then the shower started.
"I can't believe it, he didn't even look over at us," I said, my dick still buried in her pussy.
"Now he's taking a shower, we probably have another ten minutes or so."
