I heard the unmistakable roar of his damned motorcycle coming up the street. Matthew had returned. Pent up tension accumulated over the last four hours drained from me in a rush at the sound. Everyday I worried I would come home and find him gone. I deserved nothing less, but I couldn’t stand the thought of separation. Tonight, after working late, I came home to my own private hell: an empty house. 

I got out of bed, noticing the late hour, and walked to the front door, waiting there in the buff for my estranged and angry husband. He should have been home hours ago. I’d been looking forward all day to date night with him. Last Thursday he’d taken me to a nice dinner wearing a remote control viberator. I cursed him for playing with me and humiliating me in public, but after… well it wasn’t so bad. Tonight, I’d expected something new but found an empty house instead. I sat around, pining for him. Pathetic. 

A loud click and silence indicated the garage door had closed. He would be up most of the stairs by now, almost to the door. I resisted the urge to open it. I didn’t care how desperate I looked to him, but I didn’t want the neighbors seeing me naked. Matthew opened the door and stood for a moment frowning at me, looking so good in all that black leather. I hated that bike, but mmmm. Leather.

“Where have you been?” I asked, hating how whiney I sounded. 

He closed the door behind him, saying nothing, just shrugging off his jacket, which he dropped on the rug. Without a word, he unbuckled his belt, popped the buttons of his fly and pulled his half-hard cock out for me to suck, obviously. The nerve of him! He smirked cruelly at my futile indignation. 

We both knew I would be sucking his cock, but I didn’t have to give in so easily. I locked onto his flinty eyes, resisting the urge to lick my lips at the sight of him. We had a staring contest for a moment. He, looking down at me imperiously. Me, trying to look mad or willful, at least, but failing. I knew why.

For hours I’d been imagining where he could be. First I checked to see if he’d packed and left. He hadn’t. Then I texted Jack, his co-pilot and several of his friends. They claimed to know nothing. Finally I let my imagination run wild and jealous. wondering if he had a girl on the side. A thousand scenarios played in my head in the hours of his absence. 

Now standing in front of me, I could test if he’d been with someone. I wanted to know. I didn’t want to ask him and be even more pathetic. So I blinked first. He smiled grimly as I looked down at his now completely hard cock.

It was gratifying to know I still had that effect on him. I had to know if anyone else had that effect, too. I fell to my knees and kissed the tip of his cock then suckeled the spongy head, tasting it. I sighed relief. He didn’t taste like fresh soap, or latex, or pussy, or even someone else’s mouth. He tasted like ordinary aroused Matthew plus leather. I closed my eyes, relishing the taste of his fidelity before looking up into his beautiful cold eyes.

He smiled down at my, cruelly victorious. “Happy now, slut?”

God help me, I was. Maybe not for the reasons he thought. I nodded on the tip of his cock. I didn’t need to know where he’d been. I didn’t care anymore. He hadn’t been with anyone. Even better, he was home now, in my mouth. I wanted him there or anywhere he wanted to take me. I put my hands on the waistline of his leather pants and pulled him into my throat making sure he knew just how much I wanted him. I slid my tongue out, massaging the underside of his beautiful cock as I bobbed up and down on it.

“I’m about to come,” he said. I moaned, disappointment. He usually lasted longer, giving me time to enjoy him. “Sit up and tilt your head back.”

“Mfh,” I said. I wanted to taste him, not waste it on my face.

“Cup your breasts and offer them up. Open your mouth, but not too wide,” he added. He groaned and pushed on my forehead, denying me the satisfaction of tasting him. Like an obedient slut I cupped my breasts and tilting my head back, trying not to laugh at my absurd position.

“Don’t flinch,” he warned.

The first spurt hit my forehead and landed mostly in my black hair. The next three landed on my eyes, which I blinked shut just in time. I opened my mouth a bit wider, hoping to catch his final volleys on my tongue, but I could feel them landing on my tits. 

“You flinched,” he said. I’d learn my eyelashes would protect my eyes allowing me to open them without getting come in them. So I opened my eyes cautiously to look up my husband. “Work on that.”

He choked off any complaint I might have had by pushing the head of his cock between my parted lips. He treated me, his wife, like a piece of ass and, guilty as I was, I couldn’t find the will to complain. I had nothing to say or objection to make. I closed my lips around the mushroom head of his cock, sucking gentling, knowing how sensitive he would be. He didn’t soften and soon I was blowing him again, lovingly, eyes closed again.

“You really love your work, don’t you?” he asked, meanly. I nodded without stopping, using the change in position of my head to work his cock in a new way. He snorted. I heard a click. My eyes snapped open. I could see his phone pointed down at me. Click. 

“Mfh,” I said, still not letting he delicious cock out of my hungry mouth. He took another pic. I never allowed pictures. Too risky. I popped off his cock. “Please don’t.”

“It’s a shame not to,” he shrugged. “You look amazing with my cum on your face. Real beautiful.

I blushed with a thrill of pride. He never said anything good about me anymore.

“Embarrassed?” he asked, misunderstanding my flushed cheeks. I blushed even more at that but said nothing, not wanting him to know how much power a compliment could wield. Any word of encouragement got me lathered these days, ever since he’d caught me with Jimmy. Suddenly it occurred to me that I’d been in this very position - minus the camera - with Jimmy. I blushed even deeper. I couldn’t think about that and I didn’t want Matthew to remember it either.

“I doubt I look beautiful,” I said, looking down demurely. Matthew grabbed my arms and lifted me up onto my feet, staring intensely into my eyes.

“Come on,” he said, dropping his phone to the carpet as he hustled me through our bedroom door and into the master bathroom. He turned on the lights and pushed me in front of the sinks, standing behind me. I felt his fingers run through my short black hair as he grabbed a handful of my mane to pull my head up, obliging me to look at my reflection in the mirror. 

“What do you see?” he asked.

I’d taken a shower earlier, after calming down. Then put on fresh and heavy makeup in case he came back and wanted to have a date night after all. I’d even shaved and taken an enima. Around eleven, realizing date night was off, I stripped the makeup off and crawled into bed. Now in the mirror, I could see my clean, makeup free complexion. My pale, unblemished skin provided a good canvas, showing off my delicately straight nose, huge emerald eyes, and rosy red lips, puffy from sucking Matthew’s cock. Ropes of Matthew’s white spunk lined my face in thin bars, over my lips and across my eyes, down my cheeks, and over my forehead into my hair. 

“Well?” he asked.

“Hot,” I said.

“Slutty,” he added, with satisfaction, making it sound like an accomplishment.

I blushed and cast my eyes downward, again pleased with his words. Slutty was accurate. I’m a good looking woman even without makeup, there’s no denying it, but I couldn’t believe how hot I looked at that moment. Or how natural. I finally saw why some men liked coming on me instead of in me, like I preferred. My pussy flushed with sudden need.

“Please, Matthew,” I begged. 

“What? Bashful now?”

“Horny,” I said, looking down, feeling humiliated. “Please, fuck me.”

“I’m still hard, guide me into your ass,” he said, gripping my hair tighter. It wasn’t what I wanted, but a good ass fucking suited me fine, especially with his long fat cock. 

I raised my left knee up to the vanity and reached back with my right hand for his cock. To my relief, he was still wet from my throat. I arched my back, and pull on me ass cheek with my left hand, pulling his cock until the tip hit my back door with the other. He would have to do the rest. I grunted and groaned as he pushed into me. I put my left hand against the mirror for leverage to push back against him, making sure to take all of him into me.

“Look at yourself,” he said.

I looked up, my reflected self stared back, feral and smug. Pleased with herself, she smiled and moaned like a slut.

“You like this,” he taunted. But he fucked me, too. 

In that position his cock pushed something just right in my pussy. With my right hand I gripped the sink, fingers on the sink side, thumb over the lip of the vanity so every thrust of his cock pushed my clit into the first knuckle of my thumb.

I looked at my husband’s reflection. Salt and pepper hair, tall, handsome, wearing black leather, and focused - on fucking me. Even furious, he liked used me. It would do. I came hard.

He grunted, “need some lube.”

He pulled out of me and I reached for the drawer, but he grabbed my arm spinning me around. I dropped down to taste and lube his cock, like he wanted. I spent a minute getting it moist then another few really slobbering on it as he fucked my willing throat. When he was good and slick I stood back up and guided him back into my ass. This time he slid right in, filling wonderfully full. I had another orgasm before he pulled out for his.

I dropped to my knees and cupped my breasts like before. A ridiculous position, but hotly submissive. I flinched at the force of his spurts hitting my face.

“Tsk,” he said. 

I suckled his deflating cock. I wasn’t done, I wanted a good solid fuck so I kept at his softening cock with my mouth.

“Haven’t had enough?” he asked. I shook my head. Once hard enough he spun me around and threw me over the lip of the bathtub so my stomach straddled the edge. Grabbing my hips, he pushed into my pussy roughly. We both groaned, enjoying the sensation. He fucked me hard like that and I came and came.

“Get ready,” he said, eventually.

“No, please,” I begged, “come in me.”

“Why should I?”

“I love it,” I confessed.

“Why?”

“I need to feel a bit of you in me.”

He stopped thrusting. I whimpered. 

“So when I came in you the Tuesday morning...?” he asked.

“I went to work feeling special. A bit of you inside me.”

That image set him off. He thrust into me now without control, pushing hard, roughly gripping my hips. I could feel his cock jerking as he shot off deep inside me. 

“The way I treat you,” he said, grunted, then added, “pathetic.”

“I’m coming,” I whispered, not caring how pathetic I was.

He finished before me and stood up, leaving me moaning on the edge of the tub.

“You should wear that on your face more,” he said.

He refused to let me clean up, insisting I go to bed wearing his cum on my face and leaking it out of my pussy. I went along with it submissively. He slept like a baby as I lay in bed thinking about us, feeling his cum drying on my face. I saw the clock flip to four am before passing out.

--

I woke with a start to my alarm’s roar. Seven-thirtynine. Somehow I’d hit the snooze without waking up. I jumped out of bed. I had an early morning meeting, I needed the catharsis of a good run, and now I was nine minutes off schedule. Less than a minute later I shot out the door in shorts and a sports bra, running toward the little park up the hill from our house. Half way through the first lap around the park I remembered Matthew’s dried cum still graced my face.

In a panic, I rubbed hand to cheek, looking at my palm. Nothing. Did cum flake off when it dried or did it stain indelibly? Thinking back, I’d passed two other joggers who didn’t look alarmed at the site of me. I breathed a sigh of relief, but picked up my pace just in case.

Running is therapy. Circling the park, I took stock, reviewed my life since I decided to let Matthew catch me cheating. At the time, I couldn’t imagine being in a lower place. Getting pissed on by my angry husband seemed like rock bottom. That night was a highpoint compared to recent nights.

Matthew used me, called me names, humiliated me, and even pissed on me, but he’d never been so vocal and demeaning as last night. He’d called me a slut, said I looked good with cum on my face, and laughed as I allowed his rough words and treatment. I didn’t clean his cum off my face even after he fell asleep. Now I ran around outside where anyone might see the stain of my humiliation. 

At some point since I cheated on him, I’d surrendered to him. Now unexpected separation from Matthew would undo me. I’d fallen to my knees to suck his cock with no more than a look from him. I’d even been grateful. I’d begged to be fucked and settled for sodomy then worked him up a third time to get what I really needed.

Running back to the house I could only think how true his words rang. I was pathetic. 

--

Matthew got one look at me coming in from my run and sprayed toothpaste all over the place, amazed.

“Oh, no,” I whispered, looking at my reflection. My hair still had some crusty white stuff in it and I could see my skin stained with broken, yellowish streaks. Anyone with a good eye could see what I’d been up to.

Matthew laughed slowly, “now the whole neighborhood knows you’re a cumslut.”

I might be pathetic at home. But I had a job I was late for. Dealing with his slur could wait for later.

“I don’t have time for this. Meeting, at eight-thirty,” I said, getting in the shower and turning the knob. I bit back a shriek as ice cold water cleaned the stains off me. Matthew didn’t fly that day so he stood watching me clean up, get made up, and then dress. He didn’t let me wear a bra or panties. I didn’t argue, there wasn’t time.

Matthew seemed determined to find lower places to take me. How much more could I endure? Or enjoy.

--

No one at work commented or seemed to notice the free state of my tits. During my second meeting I got a text. A pic of my face stuffed with Matthew’s long cock and covered in fresh off-white cum. I snatched my hand over my iPhone before anyone could see it, glancing around stiffly. No one seemed to notice. My relief lasted exactly one text.

[show me your pussy] it said.

I texted [in a meeting]

[Good. show me your pussy or I send this to your mom, do it now] He attached another shot of me, cock out of mouth, begging him not to take pics.

I already had the phone in my lap. I wasn’t wearing panties. It would be so easy to do. So I did what he wanted, scooting up to the conference table first. I lifted the hem of my pencil skirt and stabbed at the button blindly. There was an audible click and a flash.

Shit, I thought. Our CEO glanced over at me, pausing his presentation. I blushed deep red. “Sorry, accidentally took a screenshot.”

“Something important?” he asked, not seeing my lie. He meant to be intimidating. I suppressed a giggle, finding his affected sternness laughable compared to Matthew’s genuine cruelty.

“It is. Just a second,” I said. I sent the photo, double checking to make sure it went to only my husband, then smiled at my boss. “Done!”

[slut], he texted me again, but he left me alone the rest of the day.

--

He moved date night to that night, a Friday, since we missed our usual date. I wore my favorite little blue dress, tight and strappy up top with a flowing A-line skirt ending just above my knees.

Matthew approved, but surprised me by dumping the contents of my purse, replacing them with two handkerchiefs from his drawer and a small bottle of lube. It didn’t bode well.

We ate at Mel’s Diner, looking very overdressed. I got a ogled but ignored it, too fixated on the lube and kerchiefs in my clutch purse to worry what anyone thought of us. What did my cruel husband have planned for me now?

We walked to the Metreon, which is like a deadzone these days despite it’s terrific theaters. He picked a horror flick with dismal reviews, so I watched people lined up and excited for Rogue One enviously as we walked by. Matthew sat us at the top of the bleacher seating at the far back row of the theater, just under the projector windows. A couple sat four rows down from us. Otherwise we had the place to ourselves. 

“Who sees a horror movie near Christmas when a Star Wars movie is playing?” I complained.

“People who want to fuck, that’s who.”

Hearing those words I understood what he wanted from me and I didn’t need to be asked or directed, at least not at first. While the titles played I pulled up the chair arm between us and fumbled with Matthew’s belt, managing to unbuckle it in the dark. He helped me get the zipper open and his pants part way down. I slid down carefully between his legs and took his cock in my mouth.

I hadn’t given a blow job in a theater since high school so I enjoyed the adventure of it probably as much as Matthew enjoyed using me in public. 

He pushed me off before I could swallow his cum. I half feared he would come on my face but he had other slightly less humiliating designs, handing me the lube so I could grease his already slick cock. I did as directed without a word. Satisfied with my work, he had me stand and turn around then reached under my skirt. His warm hands grabbed onto my hips. 

Warm hands, cold heart, I thought, as he pull me down on to him. 

My pussy wanted him inside, but I knew he wanted my ass. I pulled up my skirt to keep it out of the way as I sat back carefully, making sure his hard cock hit my pink pucker before gingerly easing myself onto him. We both groaned softly as I took him in my tight ass. I placed legs over his spread legs. My weight pinned him down and I had no leverage, making it hard for either of us to fuck the other. So I leaned back against his chest and rocked my pelvis back and forth on his cock, grabbing it with my ass.

It felt great to lie against Matthew for once. We hadn’t done anything this intimate or slow for months, not since Jimmy. I reached up to put my arms around his head but he pulled them down, not wanting affection, apparently. A deep sadness overwhelmed me. I suppressed a sob, not wanting to cry. 

With my arms back down he pulled the straps off my top and pushed the front down, popping my breasts out and bunching my dress up around my waist so the whole world could see my naked vulnerability. I glanced around. Still only one couple, looking forward. Matthew put one hand on my breast and moved the other down to my exposed pussy, caressing both. Again, this was a first since Jimmy.

Determined to get some affection out of him while I had him pinned, I worked one arm out of the strap of my dress and reached up to put it around his neck. He didn’t stop me. I sighed with relief, pulling him in for a backward hug.  

We sat or lay there, depending on how you look at it, leisurely pushing each other closer and closer to orgasm for the next few minutes. I hadn’t felt so relaxed in months. On the down side, I finally got to see the movie.

“Mhm. I’m more afraid of being caught than I am of this shitty movie,” I said.

Matthew shook with a chuckle and slowly slid a finger into me. He cupped my breast gently, rubbing two fingers across the nipple. Delicious. I shuddered.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered. “You love being in public.”

I leaned my head back, pensively. I didn’t want to remind him of Jimmy, of my infidelity, but I needed to be clear. This wasn’t about being naughty. “That’s not it. I love being intimate with you, Matthew. You haven’t touched my like this in weeks.”

“Doesn’t it excite you to know those two could turn around any second and see you naked?”

“Yeah, it does,” I whispered. I pulled him in tighter with my arm, my legs over his, and my ass around his cock all at once, “but I love being with you more. Really with you, instead of just… fucking.”

I squeezed my pussy around his finger and rocked my hips, thinking about us. He moved the digit in and out and rubbed my clit slowly with his thumb. With a sudden rush of feeling I came, clenching him and tensing up. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out. I crashed down from that high just as suddenly as I’d hit it. I relaxed and slumped against Matthew, feeling content.

Remembering myself, I began rocking my pelvis on his cock again, trying to please him.

“You’d do anything for affection?” he asked softly.

I nodded, “anything.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, pulling my arm from around his neck and pushed me up.

While I fumbled with my dress he cleaned off his cock and buttoned up. I floated out of there to the garage, high on his affection. Matthew killed my buzz as we exited the elevator onto the fourth floor. 

“Hold up,” he said, looking around. Matthew had parked as far from the elevators as he could. I could see the Mini peeking around a Camry a football field away. There were maybe ten other cars on this level. Like the Meteon, the garage had been abandoned for trendier locations.

“Off with the dress,” he said.

“What? No way!” I hissed.

“You said you would do anything,” he said. “And I gave you affection.”

“Yeah. And I did ‘anything’ back in the theater,” I retorted, suddenly angry. “My ass is still throbbing from it.”

“So you’ll do anything for more affection?” he asked.

I paused, thinking. He wanted to bargain. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, thinking he had me. “You can cuddle against me tonight.”

He did have me. I loved snuggling up to him, all warm and hard. I looked around the deserted parking area, paranoid. There were three empty floors below us and two above to park on but still maybe someone would drive by. 

“You promise?” I asked. He hadn’t permitted any affection in bed since that night. I would do anything.

He nodded with a chuckle. The smug fucker. There wasn’t a law against public nudity in San Francisco, I knew, so getting arrested didn’t scare me. But people might see. There were security cameras, but maybe they didn’t work. 

Rationalisation is an amazing power. 

I pulled my straps down over my arms and pushed the top down. My breasts popped out for the second time and Matthew smiled for the first. I wiggled the stretch top over my hips exposing my pussy and he broke out into a grin. I stepped out of the dress and he held out his hand. I handed it to him. A run for the car seemed logical, but once again Matthew had the keys. There was no point, I knew.

“Did you plan this whole thing?” I asked.

“Just the theater,” he said. “This is a bonus.”

I had my doubts. Why else park at the far end? Matthew held my hand and walked me slowly to the Mini. I calmed down slowly, feeling paradoxically safe with Matthew at my side. He used and humiliated me everyday but I still trusted him. 

“This is kind of sexy,” I whispered. I was doing it. Walking nude in public.

“You really are a slut,” he responded.

“Matthew, please be nice.”

“The deal was affection, later. Now, you’re a slut and naked and you’ll do what I say.”

Oh, shit. He had my dress and the keys. I fought down panic. How could I be so stupid?  

“I trust you Matthew,” I said, hinting that he should be trustworthy.

He chuckled as we walked. We passed the down ramp and then the up ramp. We crossed the wide open space between the ramps and the car. Nothing bad happened. No other cars drove up onto that level, a guard didn’t come running, and a gang of frat boys didn’t find us, knock Matthew out, and fuck me blind. But I enjoyed the fear of thinking about it. The thrill of being caught, exposed. I could feel my thighs getting slick wet from my pussy.

“This is much better than a bad scary movie,” I said. He laughed. I smiled. The car was twenty feet away. Almost there.

We made the Mini, but Matthew pulled me around to the back of the car so we stood between it and the half wall. I could see some of the Mission District from there but Matthew wasn’t interested in the view. With a stern look, he pushed down on my shoulders.

“My god, Matthew. Nudity is one thing, but public blowjobs are probably a felony or something.”

I could see anger flare behind his eyes. He unbuckled and unzipped. I looked around. Seeing no one and decidedly horny myself, I squatted down, trying not to touch the filthy ground. The Mini supported my back as I took Matthew’s rapidly hardening cock in my mouth. I played with my pussy with one hand and kept myself steady with the other on the bumper. It didn’t take long for either of us to climax.

“Try not to flinch this time,” he said, stepping back and fisted his exploding cock at my face. 

I leaned my head back against the car in shock. His audacity brought me off, too. He rained cum down on my face and chest while I quivered with orgasm. It went everywhere, in my hair, across my forehead, one glob on my left eye and cheek, two on the other cheek and even down to my breast. I took the last spurt on my tongue and sucked on his cock a bit as my own orgasm subsided.

“That was better,” he said, “but next time hold up your breasts.”

I glared up at him, covered in cum, mad, and still horny. I reached for his hanky in my purse. Matthew yanked the clutch away. Hurling it over the side of the garage into the alley below.

“You fucker,” I hissed, as I watched him buckle up, safely clothed.

“You just came,” he chuckled, “don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

“That’s enough Matthew!” I hissed grabbing for the dress in his hand. He turned so I couldn’t reach it. A wicked grin spread across his face like a revelation. He looked out at the view and cocked his arm. I pleaded, “Oh, no, please.”

I watched my wadded up blue dress fly from his hand, over the edge, then float down slowly to join my purse.

“Oh. no,” I whimpered.

“You have to earn affection, don’t you?” he said, mirthlessly. I glared at him. “You’re not done yet. Let’s go home.”

I got in the car. What choice did I have? I wanted to kill him. But I wanted to fuck him, too. 

“I’m thinking of ways to fuck you to death,” I whispered.

He laughed and I smiled. He wouldn’t let me slouch or hide. So somewhere around the second level I decided killing him without fucking him would be best. On the way to the ground floor, the inevitability of my situation pressed down on me. Someone would see. By the ground floor exist, I came close to passing out, hyperventilating. We stopped at the cross bar. It took forever for Matthew to get the card in.

“Mathew, people are coming, shove that fucking thing in the slot. You’ve had enough practice at it!”

Four men and two women, a group, walked closer to us, down the sidewalk in the direction of Mel’s. I nearly peed myself. I was in public nude and covered in my husbands baby batter. The bar flew up and Matthew pulled out with a screech of tire. One guy got a glimpse of me, double-taking in confusion, while we sped by them on the sidewalk. 

“Damnit,” I screamed. I punched Matthew’s arm. “Too close!”

Matthew howled. After the first light, when I realized people just weren’t looking, I calmed down enough the think. Matthew kept laughing, but more softly.

“It’s not funny,” I said, glaring at him. “You threw away my favorite dress.” 

Matthew stopped to stare at me in blank faced amazement. His lips curled up and he burst out laughing again. Suddenly I was laughing, too.

“This isn’t funny, you fucker,” I said, smiling.

“It will be.”

Instead of turning down sixth, Matthew stayed on Mission. “Oh, shit, you’re taking the long way home!”

He nodded and chuckled more, anticipating the extra heap of humiliation I would get. I got it, alright. I got cat whistled from an SUV full of black men at the next light. They turned off before at the next block, but there we got caught in a slow down. A couple of gay men in some sort of Ford cheered at me encouragingly. 

Right, this is San Francisco, I remembered. Once I understood everyone seemed to think it was fun and funny, I decided to play along, and maybe turn the tables on Matthew. 

“Okay, fine,” I said to him. If he wanted to embarrass me, I could cuckold him. 

I flaunted my tits to the gay men, who cheered more and called me a ‘breeder pervert.’  A car full of latino looking men and women slid by us next. Next I flashed an uptight family from the midwest, they all looked appropriately scandalized except for the son in the back. I laughed.

There are like eight million lights between the Metreon and our turn off Mission to home. I kept my legs open, showing off my bald, very wet pussy. In the dark, not everyone could see the extra decoration on my face, but some did. Everyone could see my breasts. 

Women seemed particularly shocked if they noticed my face, so I made sure to show my off lewdly. Frankly, I loved the attention as much as I loved seeing Matthew’s smug mouth shut tight.

“I hope your dick shrivels,” I said affably. For once, Matthew stayed silent, driving all the faster.

I got whistles and cheers and offers for cock and even some pussy. Matthew grew more quiet. I could see steam shooting out his ears. For some reason, probably because Matthew drives like a maniac, or maybe because we were in San Francisco, we didn’t collect a train of ‘admirers’. 

When we pulled into our driveway, he looked at me and asked, “enjoy yourself?”

“Wasn’t that your plan?”

“No, this was,” he said and got out of the car, closing the door. 

Oh, shit. 

Mugging for strangers is entirely different from walking around nude in your own neighborhood, even if in a bedroom community. I looked around, seeing no one but Matthew, who stood waiting for me at the bottom of the walkup.

“Come on,” he said. “No point in being bashful now.”

Slowly I got out of the car, crouching and looking around. Matthew laughed at me, pissing me off. I stood slowly, straightening my back. Damn if he would cowed me, even if he had robbed me of my clothes. I walked slowly to him, conscious of my nudity, the cum on my face, and the fact that Matthew liked the spectacle as much as my humiliation.

“We’re cuddling all night, now, you bastard,” I said, as I passed him. He caught up and we walked up the stairs at a leisurely pace. Surreptitiously, I panned around to see if anyone got any eyeful. We got by with it.

Once he had the house door closed I pushed Matthew against the wall.

“You fucker,” I said. 

I wasn’t done. I hooked my leg around his pulled on his lapel, twisting. He fell passed me and I jumped on him. For once, I had the upper hand. I didn’t doubt Matthew let me have it, so I pulled his pants off and mounted him before he could resist me.

“Convenient. I’m naked already,” I said. 

Placing my hands on his chest, I rocked my hips on his cock, feeling him all the way in me. So good. For once I used my husband, not the other way around. I came too quickly. 

When I came down, Matthew reached behind my head for a handful of hair, yanking me down and over. His turn, then. Somehow he got me face down on the rug and ass up in the air and fucked me like that.

We didn’t go to bed immediately. We didn’t make love. Instead we fucked. Back and forth until my pussy was red and sore and his cock uselessly limp. We exchanged slurs as we cavorted. Slut and Fucker, were common. 

Eventually we got in bed. I cuddled warmly up to Matthew, sighing contentedly.

“Worth it?” asked Matthew.

I fell to sleep so fast, so completely, so peacefully I don’t remember answering. But yes, it was.