Backshootin’ Your Mrs.

You have no idea of my intentions, and that’s how I want things to be. You’ve no idea how much I’ve studied your routine, from the exact hour your alarm clock rings to when you saunter into the bathroom to get ready to start your day. I’ve even set my alarm to mirror yours, that way we’re almost in sync.

I’m usually in my kitchen brewing a cup of espresso while you’re buttoning your shirt and attaching your cuff links. Your tie is typically askew while you tie your shoe laces. Your wife is downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast. Sometimes you make time to eat (though you’re awfully fast as you explain you need to beat the 8:00 a.m. traffic on the freeway leading into the city), other times you’re in much of a hurry. You grab your briefcase, kiss your wife goodbye, then you’re out hurrying into your car. I’m beside my window sipping my coffee and watching you dash off to work.

You’re unaware of my presence. You have no idea why I’m watching you, or if I’m intending some measure of harm to come your way.

None of the above. I’m simply bidding my time, waiting for you to drive off. I check my watch to note the time—you’re only off by a couple of minutes.

I finish my coffee and then wear a shirt, about to begin my intention.

I go out through my back door, cross into your yard, then enter your home through the back door like a friendly thief.

The kitchen is empty, as is the living room. I stop when I hear noise coming from upstairs. I head in that direction.

Your bedroom door is open; I observe shadowy movement from within. I carefully approach.

I ease the door further open and stop to catch my breath.

Your wife demanded that I give her back shots, white boy! Would you dare me to say no?

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Your blonde wife has finished making the bed and setting the pillows. She’s kneeling across with her back towards me, shaking her tail feather. She looks over her shoulder and smiles, knowing I was soon to surprise her.

“Are you here to do something nasty to me,” she purrs, “or are you gonna stand there and watch?”

She twerks her booty as if seeking an immediate answer.

My response is to then drop my shorts down my ankles and expose my hard-on. Don’t worry, I’m wearing protection for your wife, and I’ve got on my cock-ring, so you know I don’t intend to climax too soon.

Your wife smiles and says: “Would you mind helping to undress me, babe? Go ahead and give it to me like this.”

Your wife demanded that I give her back shots, white boy! Would you dare me to say no?

I draw closer and pull her panties down her tanned buttocks. Her buttocks looks so good—so firm, so shapely, well-rounded, and inviting—I’m as fucking horny as you can imagine.

I draw her closer with one hand on her hips and then take aim with the other.

Ohhhhhh!

That’s the moaning sound of your wife as I perforate her pussy.

Her pussy grips me tight as I inch further and further.

I hiss through my teeth—Oh fuck, this pussy feels so damn fucking GOOD!—with both hands on her waist and keep pushing into her.

I’m deep inside her pussy now—SUCCESS!—then ease out.

Then I slide back into her again. . .

I slide backwards with my cock now looking creamy, then slide back into her vagina again. . .

Back and forth, back and forth, we go like a seesaw game.

Your wife moans and grips the bed sheets.

My breathing deepens—this is the sweetest ecstasy—I listen to your wife’s breathing too, and can tell she’s loving what I’m doing to her.

I lie on your bed and uphold the pleasurable sight of her buttocks riding me backwards and forwards.

Her pussy has me thinking of butterflies: I find myself lost in a garden; I see myself rolling down a meadow, lost in the biting potency of her cunt’s magic. I increase my pace gradually, wanting more of her sweet nectar to drown my whole.

Your wife thrusts back at me. I feel her butt slamming my pelvis. Frantic. Her moans reverb into arousing cries as our bodies clash.

She pulls herself upright, succumbing to her pleasure. I wrap my arm around her, grabbing her tits. Her large tits press against my fingers. I reach underneath her tank top to get a better grasp. She reaches over my shoulder to caress my face. My lips find hers and we stay kissing while our bodies obey the laws of physics.

I breathe into her mouth while she gasps into mine; we remain interlocked as our lower bodies fervently clash.

She later agrees to straddle me in reverse.

I lie on your bed and uphold the pleasurable sight of her buttocks riding me backwards and forwards. She grabs hold of my ankles as her lower body glides backwards like she’s rowing a boat. I smack her cheeks, urging her to keep going. She waves her head like she’s consumed by an indescribable fervour. She leaned backwards over me and began lifting her hips. From underneath, I can make out my cock slipping into her vagina.

She isn’t done with me yet, neither am I.

She rotates clockwise until she’s facing me. My cock slips out of her. Your wife then does the most incredible thing—she pulls at the tip of my penis, extracts the condom, and discards it to the floor.

I climax over your wife’s tits and face. She grabs my cock and sucks me clean while I take snapshots with my phone as memento.

“Fucking condoms only gets in the way,” she affirms. “We won’t be needing that; fuck me good!”

Would you dare me to say no, white boy?

I lifted my legs just as I palm her buttocks with both hands and began machine-gunning your wife’s pussy like I was seeking vengeance.

Of course, your wife still suspects that she’s the one in control of things. She believes you’re unaware of her adulterous habit. She has no idea that it is you who initiated me hooking up and seducing her in the first place. To her, I’m merely her secret lover; to you, I’m the dominant figure who lives next door.

I climax over your wife’s tits and face. She grabs my cock and sucks me clean while I take snapshots with my phone as memento. She demands I stay over to fuck her some more.

Don’t worry, I’ll be texting you the photos once I return home.