Before he’d even walked through the door, I was ready to fuck my husband until he broke. My cunt was dripping wet, hot as a volcano, and aching for a stiff, hard cock.
"Honey, I’m home!” Mike announced. He looked somewhat silly in his floppy, wide-brimmed fishing hat. If he’d planned on saying anything else, I’ll never know, because I had strategically positioned myself to arouse and entice.
After my luncheon with Allison, where we discussed business as well as my infidelity and hers, I spent the rest of the day and most of the following morning preparing for the return of my domestic castle’s king. My husband is the king of his domain, as far as he’s concerned. Being a good wife means that my task, as the stay-at-home wife, is to ensure the house is spotless, that everything is exactly as my husband desires, and to cater to him. It’s his reward for being the breadwinner and supporting me.
While I busied myself by cleaning, making sure the furniture was in its precise, optimum location, dusting, and preparing a hearty feast of pot roast with vegetables and those little, golden potatoes he loves so much, I kept an eye on the road in front of my house. When I saw Ben’s car pull in, I rushed to be in position. I had everything set up beforehand.
The secret to spontaneity is careful planning of every minute detail. I had everything at the ready, and my working with Ginger had me primed to say nasty, dirty, arousing things, and to move with such sexual passion that my husband would be happy with his wife. Even my wardrobe was carefully chosen to highlight my lusty intentions.
I was strategically wedged between the arm of the couch and the end table, bent over and dusting it with a newly-purchased, black feather duster. The small, round table had already been cleaned, dusted, and polished to a glossy sheen, but I was dusting it purely for effect. I had perfectly executed every detail.
My rust and tan, wrap-around housedress had been carefully chosen for the sexy vibe it gave off. The designer dress appeared, at first glance, to be a casual housedress, but it was cut and designed to enhance the body’s charms. It enhanced my very feminine hips, and, with my back turned, the cloth draped over my shapely behind, more caressing my flesh than covering it. I had my back turned to the door, and the couch’s arm hid the view from the top of my thighs down.
My hair was newly re-dyed, giving it a shimmering shine, and I’d teased it out into lazy locks, all haphazard strands that gave me that freshly-fucked look. It was exactly how he wanted it. My makeup was slightly heavy, nowhere near as slutty as I had layered on to seduce Bobby, but I intentionally wore the same lipstick. As soon as the door opened, I began slowly turning toward my husband, the feather duster in one hand and a huge, seductive smile of horny arousal on my lips. I’d practiced my movements in the mirror; the turn was lustily poetic with my back arched to make my boobs jut out, my ass sticking up, and I showed just the barest enticement of my thigh molding itself against the thin fabric of my very costly dress.
“Close the door and pull out that yummy cock of yours, tiger.” I paused, enjoying the look of shock on his face. Mike had his bags in one hand and his fishing pole in the other. “Or leave it open if you want the entire neighborhood to watch me sucking your cock.”
“Mary Anne,” Mike stuttered, a huge smile appearing on his face and accompanying the growing bulge in his khakis. "You look amazing."
I sashayed out from behind the couch, giving him a full view of me and my attire. The dress tapered well, giving my curves enough enhancement to draw the eyes. The hem went down to the middle of my thighs, and the black, floral lace stockings distended beneath them, showing off my somewhat muscular legs. I untied the sash that kept the dress closed. There were hidden snaps along the sides where the layers met, but I had left them unsnapped for easy removal.
Letting the dress fall open, I took a step, crossing my high-heeled foot in front of the other to give my hips a seductive sway that advertised my incessant, horny need. My nipples had been tugged, squeezed, and teased into extreme sensitivity, and they stood out like beacons. My thigh-high stockings were dense lace, all roses and vines. The lace was so preponderant that the stockings were nearly opaque, just teasing, little bits of my smooth, creamy skin flashing out here and there.
Mike’s gaze went from my full, pouting red lips to my heaving tits, and his stare fixed on my neatly-trimmed pussy. I’d just shaped and trimmed it. My pubic patch was perfectly symmetrical, exactly two fingers in width, and the edges were nice and straight, just how he likes it.
On my second step toward my shocked husband, I raised the duster to my tits and tickled my nipples while I moaned out my passion. When I took my third, my shoulders provocatively shirked off the dress, letting the designer garment fall to the pristine floor.
“Fuck, Mary Anne. What’s gotten into you?”
I closed the distance between us, dropping to my knees. I could see a few people walking down the street on the opposite side, and two cars gently rolled past. I didn’t care. Smiling up at Mike’s face, I licked my lips in anticipation and fished out his cock.
“Bobby Crenshaw, for one,” I giggled. Then, I plunged my hungry mouth over his meat, sucking it to full hardness.
“Oh.. aaah… Fuck, I missed you. You didn’t?!”
I pulled my mouth off his now-fully erect cock, making sure I had so much saliva built up that it dripped off my lips and his manhood. “You told me to. Am I not a good wife for obeying you?”
“Well, I didn’t… oh fuck! Aaarr, ummm.”
His words devolved into horny moans and lusty grunts as I plunged my wanton lips back over his shaft, fucking it with my mouth. Both my hands grabbed his ass and forced his cock deep down my throat. I gurgled and gagged, but kept pumping until his legs were shaking. Then, I pulled off and smiled up at him.
“I’d be a terrible spouse if I didn’t please you by doing what you told me to, tiger. But, that only leaves three questions.”
As I spoke, my hand wrapped around his cock and pumped it furiously. Slick with my saliva, my efforts produced wet, sloppy sounds.
“Questions?”
“Do you want me to push down and ride while I fuck your brains out and tell you every detail, or do you want to bend me over the couch arm and punish me with your big, hard cock? And do you want to close the door or leave it open because the neighbors are staring, watching me get you off?”
I stood and kissed him. Mike was too far gone to care that the taste of his cock was on my lips. It wasn’t a romantic kiss to say, “I love you.” Our kiss was passionate and needy, conveying my horny arousal. My tongue plunged into his mouth, moans escaping my throat as we explored each other's hot, intimate mouths. All the while, my hand was vigorously stroking his fleshy lance, and his hips began thrusting forward to meet my stroking.
