Julissa and her husband, Rodrigo, had been trying to become parents for several years, with him unwilling to go the artificial insemination route without first exhausting the other options to help his fertility problem. She was thirty-six and felt like she was running out of time, which had her thinking of ways outside the box that would not hurt her husband's ego.

One idea in particular remained in the back of her mind, but she made sure to keep it captive and not let it enter the realm of possibility due to its immoral nature. It revolved around one of her husband's friends, Manuel, who stayed over at their place every once in a while when his job brought him down to the city. She would have liked for that to be the end of the scenario, but there was a wicked detail that her husband was not aware of, one that took her and Manuel back to their college days when they had a semester-long fling.

Throughout the years, she had noticed his lascivious glances when he visited, and even found that he left her used panties with a pungent crust on them whenever possible. From the time she had met him, she had identified him as somewhat of an immature pervert who lacked the qualities to be husband material, but who was carefree enough to top the list of candidates to de-stress with in college and potentially impregnate her now.

However, she refused to give it serious consideration, not because of his friendship with her husband or that she didn't trust him to keep the secret, but because she figured it would only come into play as a last resort. Her focus remained on following the professional advice and protocol they had received in hopes of a natural pregnancy.

It wasn't until more time passed and their frustration grew with the process that Manuel's visit coincided with tempting her with the key to uncage the immoral beast within her. She stayed up late, staring blankly at the dark ceiling while her husband slept next to her. She didn't want to admit it to herself but her body was way past that point with her labia swelling in anticipation of the acceptance of her debauchery.

It's wrong but, damn, it's the perfect opportunity, she thought.

The answer to their problem was in the guestroom downstairs in the form of a familiar person that she had previous sexual experience with. She understood the magnitude of the moment that had presented itself under her own roof, with only the chains defining her morality restraining her.

Her limbs trembled in anxious uncertainty, and her mind offered no alternatives as it was overwhelmed with sexual memories of her escapades with Manuel. The most memorable encounter took center stage, projecting itself in her mind's eye, as she vividly recalled the time when they fucked in a small study room in the library after working on a group project.

She undid her silk robe and slid a hand under the cotton fabric of her panties until her fingers reached the evidence of her arousal and lubricated themselves. She retrieved her fingers and brought them into her mouth, tasting herself and finding the courage to make a decision.

She got out of bed, careful not to wake her husband, and snuck out of the room in a symbolic scene that reflected her descent into the depths of her morality where her depravity dwelled. Her wantonness urged her down the stairs, with every step dissipating her guilt and giving clarity to her objective.

She could not hear her own footsteps over her heartbeat, but she could see indirect light coming from guestroom's ajar door. She opened the door, just enough to fit through, and slow enough to make sure it did not creak.

"Hey, are you still up?" she asked, locking the door behind her.

"Yeah, I was about to jerk off," he said, closing his laptop and placing it on the nightstand, which left only the dim bathroom light against the otherwise pitch-black room.

"You're such a perv," she playfully said, showing the lighthearted energy and confidence they had in their friendship.

"I don't know, you're the one coming into my room with your robe undone," he said, struggling to get a look at her bare breasts.

"Yes, about that, I need your help," she said as she sat down on the opposite side of the bed from him.

"How may I help you...at this time of the night, ma'am?" he asked, feeling his bulge tenting his boxers.

"You know that, uh, I've been trying to get pregnant forever...but it's just not happening," she began, hesitating in her words, yet inching closer to him amid the rising sexual tension. "And tonight, er, I'm ovulating but you showed up and interrupted our...session."

"Oh, well, my bad," he said, unsure of where she was going with it. "I didn't know."

"We don't have much time, I can explain later, but I need to know I can trust you," she said, using her usual soft and sweet tone.

"You know you can, Jules," he said, knowing that he wasn't going to say anything to cock-block himself.

It hadn't gone as smooth as she had envisioned it, but their long-standing connection ensured they understood each other well. It had been over a decade since their last intimate moment but neither of them could tell by how they effortlessly undressed each other and gave in to their desires.

"Missionary, you know, helps the odds," she explained.

He pressed the top side of his shaft between her labia, rubbing it along the length of her slit, and said, "I don't remember it getting this hot."

She would never admit it to him out loud but the taboo of cheating on her husband with one of his friends with the goal of impregnation ignited her essence with lustful flames that scorched through her marriage vows and empowered her sexuality to its apex.

"This pussy is mine, always has been," he said, once again exploring the depths of her pussy that only he had conquered.

"Yes, it's all yours," she encouraged him with her objective in mind, wrapping her legs around him and locking her ankles.

As he began thrusting into her, she dug her fingernails into his back and involuntarily squeezed her walls around his girth, which confessed to him everything that she didn't dare utter.

He knew that she simply wanted to get pregnant, but he took pride in being a good lover and wasn't planning on finishing before her. He wanted to claim her body and open the possibility to some vintage escapades with her in the future.

He closed in for a kiss but she moved her face to the side, "No, no kissing," she said.

"Why not? You used to love it," he reminded her.

"Used to, I'm married now," she explained with a devious smile.

"Like that matters," he said, smiling at the irony of the moment.

He pushed his entire length inside of her, making her gasp, and took the opportunity to reintroduce his tongue to hers. He was right, she loved French kissing while having sex, and the light stream of juices lubricating his shaft told him so. What did it for him was hearing her soft moans amid their kissing and feeling her pussy tighten and stretch out repeatedly.

A surge of virility shot through his body, pulling his mouth away from hers and directing it to the side of her neck. He stuck out his flat tongue and licked from one side of her neck to the other. He wanted to gently bite and suck on her sensitive flesh, but he had plenty of experience to know not to leave marks on married women.

He knew his way around her body, time hadn't changed that, but the sensations of her sex were pushing his orgasm control to its limits, especially every time her juices streamed out of her. He didn't know it, but with the help of several fancy toys, she had learned how to prolong her pleasure by having mini-orgasms that were often accompanied by small squirts. However, she could tell she would be sore for a few days due to her stretching past the usual limit.

"Fill me up, creampie me," she said, remembering how much he enjoyed doing so and risking pregnancy in their younger days.

This time, it wasn't about the risk, but the desire to impregnate the lust of his life, the wife of his friend, and fulfill his most perverted fantasy.

I'm sorry, babe, but we'll be so happy with a baby, she reasoned with her husband in her head.

He broke her thoughts by switching to faster, shorter strokes that allowed his curved shaft to rub against her G-spot. She bit down on his shoulder to muffle her moans, but that only served to increase his intensity and take her closer to the edge. He added profound thrusts to his rhythm, ones that reached spots her husband couldn't stimulate and that built a distinct pressure in her core.

"I missed how you fuck me," she confessed, savoring the vigorous ravaging.

Part of her wanted to moan, to revel in her wickedness and make her husband be the one to make the decision about their future. Her body was reacting to everything Manuel did, begging for it to last all night, and just went she was going to risk it all with her cries of pleasure, he returned his tongue into her mouth, showing his appreciation for her candid admission, and continued working his hips to bring them both closer to the edge. It had been years but he still remembered how her walls tightened around his shaft to signal her climax.

He replaced his lips with his hand over her mouth, firmly squeezing her cheeks, and made his demand clear, "If I get you pregnant or not, I want to keep fucking you."

She hadn't planned anything beyond one night, but she was in no position to reject him when she could hear the squelching of her wetness amidst his pounding. She looked him in the eyes and nodded her head as her body simultaneously responded by releasing orgasmic waves that rushed through her body before ultimately gushing onto him.

He thrusted a few more times into her grip then buried his length so that his repeated shots of semen splashed directly against the entrance of her womb. Throughout the years, he had masturbated countless times to this scenario, wasting his seed, but now the euphoria of finally delivering his load to the proper place overwhelmed even his own sexual release that was overflowing her and dripping down past her rear entrance onto the bed.

"I think that's gonna do it," she said, welcoming his warmth inside of her.

"Well, you better make love to him soon," he said with a satisfied smile on his face.

She snuck out of his room the same way she came in and returned to bed next to her husband, albeit with a flooded womb as proof of her first infidelity. She closed her eyes, inadvertently inviting her thoughts to rush to the forefront of her mind. One side accused her of breaking her marriage vows while the other appeased her by assuring her that pregnancy was going to bring endless joy to them.

The following day, Manuel left early in the morning to avoid an uncomfortable situation at the breakfast table, which allowed her to spent the entire day pampering her husband leading up to a night of passion.

She spent the next few weeks overseeing her internal battle until she was able to confirm her pregnancy and find relief in knowing her timeline would not raise any suspicions. She was determined to live with such an immoral secret if it meant starting a family with the love of her life. Her plan had been successful and she had everything going her way to move on as best she could, but she could not rule out an escapade with Manuel to thank him.