Evan didn’t even wait a full second before volunteering. When the office manager announced at the end of the day Friday that someone needed to drop a client gift at Mike Carlson’s house over the weekend, his hand shot up before he could stop himself. A boxed bottle of bourbon, meant to impress an important investor Monday morning, had to be delivered so it was there when Mike returned from his trip. Most of the guys groaned at the idea of giving up part of their Saturday. Evan felt like he’d won the lottery.

Not that he’d say so. To everyone else, it was just another errand. But to him, it meant one thing: he’d get to see Jenna Carlson.

He’d noticed her from the first company party he attended months ago. She wasn’t flashy, not the type to drape herself over her husband’s arm. But she had that kind of beauty that lingered—brunette hair, bright blue eyes, curves that looked even better when she laughed. At those gatherings, she always seemed friendly but distant, never paying him more than a polite smile. And why would she? She was mid-thirties, married to a senior project exec, with kids at home. He was twenty-five, barely out of school, still proving himself on job sites. A woman like that wasn’t supposed to notice a guy like him.

That night, lying awake, he kept replaying the thought: maybe this errand would give him more than a quick hello. Maybe they’d actually talk. Maybe she’d finally see him.

By late Saturday morning, Evan was pulling into their driveway with the velvet-lined box tucked under his arm, palms damp despite the cool air. He told himself to act normal. Just hand it over, smile, maybe exchange a few words, then leave. He wasn’t prepared for Jenna herself to open the door—hair a little tousled, robe tied loosely at her waist, bare legs peeking beneath the hem.

Jenna opened the door with a polite smile, her hand still on the knob. “Hi.”

Evan nearly forgot to breathe. She looked even better up close than she had at those company parties—brunette hair loose around her shoulders, satin robe cinched at her waist, legs bare beneath the hem. He scrambled for words.

“Um—hi. I’m Evan. I work with Mike, over at the firm.” He held up the box as proof. “I was asked to drop off a client gift for him.”

Her smile widened with recognition. “Oh, that’s right—you do look familiar. I couldn’t place you at first.” She glanced briefly toward the quiet street, then back at him. “Well, come in—I shouldn’t be out here chatting in my robe while the neighbors watch,” she chuckled.

Evan stepped inside, pulse thudding in his ears. The air smelled faintly of coffee and something floral, lived-in and warm. Jenna closed the door behind them and led the way toward the kitchen, her robe shifting with every step.

“My kids are at a sleepover birthday party, but Mike’s out of town,” she said casually, as if to explain the empty house.

“I know,” Evan replied quickly, then caught himself. “I mean—they told me he was flying back tomorrow night. The gift’s for a new client he’s meeting first thing Monday.”

She gave him another smile, easy and amused, as if she appreciated his thoroughness. “Good thinking.” She gestured toward the island. “Just set it there.”

Jenna set her hands on her hips, studying the box. “You know, I just brewed a pot of coffee. Would you like some?” She gestured to her own steaming mug.

Evan wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, but he nodded so quickly he almost tripped over the word. “Yes, absolutely. Thank you.”

Her smile curved as she poured. “Milk? Sugar?”

“However, you take it is fine,” he said, instantly regretting how eager he sounded.

She slid the cup toward him and leaned against the counter with her own. “So, Evan… how long have you been with the firm?”

He straightened, gripping the mug like it might steady him. “Uh—six months, give or take. Mostly working under Rickson on the downtown project. I… uh, mostly handle site coordination stuff.”

Jenna’s eyes held his, curious, kind. “And do you like it?”

“I do. I mean, it’s a lot of responsibility, but that’s good. Keeps me on my toes.” He heard his own voice stumble and hated it, but she just sipped her coffee, smiling at his nervousness.

They talked a few more minutes—or rather, Jenna guided the conversation, asking questions and letting him stammer through the answers. She thought it was sweet how flustered he got just standing in her kitchen.

After a pause, she glanced up at the tall cabinets above the fridge. “Actually, while you’re here… would you mind helping me with something?”

“Of course,” Evan said, heart thudding. “Anything.”

“I’ve been meaning to get down a vase from up there,” she said, pointing. “Mike always brings flowers home after his trips. But it’s fragile, and I’d rather hand it down to someone than try climbing down with it myself.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Jenna pulled out the stepstool and set it against the cabinets. She slipped onto the first step, tying her robe a little tighter without thinking. Evan, fumbling with his nerves, crouched down to retie a loose shoelace just as she climbed higher.

When he glanced up, his breath caught. The robe had shifted with her movement, hem riding high. The curve of her ass filled his vision, a purple thong strap vanishing between her cheeks. Heat shot through him, so sudden it almost hurt. He froze, wide-eyed, unable to look away.

Above him, Jenna stretched up for the vase, completely unaware.

“Got it,” she murmured, easing it from the cabinet. She turned—and froze.

Evan was right there, standing close, eyes darting away too quickly, cheeks flushed. The realization hit her instantly: from the way his gaze had dropped, the way his throat bobbed—he’d seen more than she’d ever intended.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, clutching the vase. “I’m so sorry, Evan. I wasn’t thinking—this robe—” Her cheeks warmed. “I didn’t mean to… expose myself like that.”

He stammered, hands lifting uselessly. “No—I, um—it’s fine. Really. I didn’t—” His voice cracked, betraying him. Then, almost under his breath, but just loud enough for her to catch: “It was nice, actually.”

The corner of Jenna’s mouth curved. Sweet, nervous boy. She should have laughed it off, handed him the vase, and moved on. But his face—flushed, lips parted, eyes wide with the kind of hunger only youth carried—stopped her. The poor guy looked tortured. And it was her fault.

She hesitated, vase still in her hands. The air between them felt heavy, charged. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let him have… a little relief.

Slowly, she leaned down, passing him the vase. Their fingers brushed, lingered. She didn’t pull away. His eyes flicked up to hers, startled, hopeful as he handed the vase back to her.

“Evan,” she said softly, her voice low but sure. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

He swallowed hard, words failing him.

“Relax,” Jenna murmured, a glint of amusement in her eyes now. “It’s just me.”

And in that moment, she decided—if this young man wanted her badly enough to burn from a single glimpse, maybe she could give him more than that.

Jenna set the vase carefully on the counter, but she didn’t step back. She stayed close, her hand brushing his a second longer than necessary. Evan’s chest rose and fell too fast, his knuckles white around the rim of the box as though it might anchor him.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, throat working. His gaze dipped to her lips before snapping back up, guilty and desperate all at once.

Jenna tilted her head, the faintest smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. So timid, she thought, and yet so eager. She stepped a fraction closer, enough that the scent of her perfume reached him, light and floral beneath the warmth of coffee.

“You don’t have to be so nervous,” she murmured, her voice pitched low, intimate.

“I’m not—” he began, but the crack in his voice betrayed him.

She lifted one hand, laying it lightly against his chest. The heat of her touch shot straight through his shirt, stopping him cold.

“Evan,” she said softly, her eyes steady on his, “if you want something… you should take it.”

He stared at her, wide-eyed, as though the floor might open beneath his feet. Then, before his courage failed him, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

It was clumsy at first, tentative, but Jenna met him without hesitation, lips parting, drawing him in. A soft sound escaped her throat, and the kiss deepened, the tension snapping like a cord pulled too tight.

Her robe loosened with the shift of her body, silk falling open just enough for his hand to brush the bare curve of her waist. His breath hitched. She didn’t cover herself. Instead, she kissed him harder, coaxing, urging him on.

When she finally pulled back, their mouths barely an inch apart, her eyes glinted with amusement and something hotter.

“Good,” she whispered, her thumb grazing his jaw. “That’s more like it. Now show me what you want.”

Her robe slipped further with every kiss until it gaped wide, satin sliding against her skin. Jenna caught his wrist and brought his trembling hand up, pressing it firmly to her breast.

Evan’s breath caught. The warmth of her skin beneath his palm, the soft weight filling his hand—it was everything he’d imagined in restless nights, suddenly real.

His arousal grew, both in his heart and in his groin.

“Go on,” she whispered, guiding him.

His thumb brushed her nipple, and she tilted her head back with a soft sigh. He bent down, helpless, and took her breast into his mouth. She moaned, fingers in his hair, encouraging him as he suckled gently, tasting her skin.

The robe slithered off her shoulders and puddled to the floor. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch—just stood there in her thong, eyes closed, mouth parted, letting him worship her.

When she looked down again, her expression had shifted—more playful now, more deliberate. “Finish it,” she murmured, voice husky.

Evan’s hands shook as he hooked his thumbs into the straps of her thong, easing it down over her hips. He knelt to draw it down her thighs, over her calves, until it pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of it with a flick of her toes, standing naked before him, unabashed.

Still crouched low, Evan froze. His eyes lifted, caught by the sight between her legs—trim, smooth, glistening faintly in the morning light. For months, she had been nothing but an untouchable image in his mind, and now her bare pussy was inches from his face. His mouth went dry, heart hammering so hard he thought she might hear it.

Jenna glanced down, reading the hunger written across his expression. A soft, knowing smile touched her lips.

Evan forced himself to rise, unsteady, until he stood before her again. He tried to speak, but words caught in his throat.

“Anything else you want?” she asked, her voice husky now, her gaze locking onto his.

His chest rose and fell in uneven bursts. Almost without thinking, his hand caught hers, guiding it down, pressing it to the bulge straining beneath his jeans.

Her smile deepened, sultry and approving. “Mmm. I see.”

She sank gracefully to her knees, unbuttoning his jeans with practiced ease. The zipper slid down, denim parting, then she pushed his boxers beneath the heavy weight of his balls.

Evan’s cock sprang free, thick and flushed, veins ridging the shaft. He sucked in a sharp breath, heart hammering in disbelief. Her eyes flicked up at him once, glinting with mischief, before she leaned in.

Her tongue teased the swollen head, swirling around it, tasting him. Evan groaned, one hand gripping the counter for balance. She licked slowly down his length, then dragged her tongue across the sensitive underside before taking his balls gently in her mouth, warm and wet.

“Oh, fuck…” he muttered, head falling back.

She smiled faintly at the sound, then slid her lips back up, engulfing the thick shaft, inch by inch. Her mouth was hot, slick, relentless, the suction pulling a ragged groan out of him.

Evan stared down, dazed, watching her head bob on his cock, her hair falling around her face, her hand curling around the base to stroke what her mouth couldn’t reach. He felt every flick of her tongue, every squeeze of her lips.

His knees threatened to buckle. “God, Jenna…”

She hummed in response, the vibration making his cock twitch inside her. He clenched his jaw, hips rocking forward without meaning to, drawn deeper into the wet heat of her throat.

It was more than he’d ever imagined—better than every fantasy he’d tried to shake off late at night. And she was here, on her knees in the kitchen, devouring him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jenna released him with a wet pop, lips glistening, her hand giving him one last stroke before she looked up. Rising to her feet with slow grace, she smoothed her hair back, her body fully bared before him now.

Her eyes met his, blue and steady. “What else do you want to do, Evan?”

He froze, breath caught. Then something inside him shifted. The timid part of him cracked under the weight of her question. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and stepped forward, gently but firmly turning her until she faced the granite island. She let him, glancing back once with a teasing smile, then leaned forward, palms pressing flat to the cool surface.

Evan sank to his knees behind her, hands spreading her cheeks apart. The sight made his head spin—her pussy glistening, pink and swollen, the faint musk of her arousal filling his senses. He leaned in, inhaling deeply.

The first lick sent a shudder through him. She was warm and slick, the taste salty-sweet on his tongue, intoxicating. He buried his face between her thighs, tongue circling, pressing, probing, desperate to savor her.

Jenna sighed, low and throaty, her head bowing between her shoulders. “Mmm… Evan…”

The sound spurred him on. He licked deeper, dragging his tongue up the length of her slit before dipping down again, teasing her clit with flicks and pressure. His hands gripped her hips tighter, holding her open, pulling her closer.

Her hums turned to soft moans, hips beginning to roll against his mouth. “Yes… just like that…”

He pressed harder, sucking her clit into his mouth, savoring the way she trembled. Her taste coated his lips and chin, every sigh and moan pushing him further into a frenzy. He’d never imagined a woman could taste this good, respond this eagerly, sound so undone by his tongue.

Jenna’s voice broke into sharper cries, her palms flat on the granite as her hips rocked harder against him. Her moans filled the kitchen, each one shooting straight through him like fire.

Her hips pressed harder into his face, and Evan responded instinctively, devouring her. Then Jenna shifted, lifting one leg and bending her knee until it rested on the edge of the island. The move opened her even more, and his breath caught at the sight—the smooth curve of her thigh, the glistening heat between her cheeks inches from his mouth.

He groaned low, spreading her wider, his tongue plunging deep before dragging upward to her clit. She cried out, hips jerking. The taste of her slickness coated his lips, raw and addictive.

Driven by need, Evan slid two fingers inside her. She gasped, body tightening around him as he thrust them slowly, curling against her inner walls while his tongue circled and sucked her clit.

“God, Evan…” Jenna’s voice was ragged now, her forehead pressing to the granite, her knuckles white against the counter. Her moans filled the kitchen, a chorus of need urging him on.

He pumped his fingers faster, tongue flicking, lips sealing around her, drinking in every drop as if he could never get enough. He pressed his face deeper between her cheeks, his nose pressing against her anus, his tongue exploring her slick hole further. Her scent, her taste, her sounds—they overwhelmed him, and he wanted nothing more than to push her higher, to make her break.

And then she did. Jenna’s body stiffened, her cry sharp and trembling as her orgasm swept through her. Her leg quivered against the counter, hips bucking against his mouth as waves of release rolled over her.

Evan held her tight, tongue and fingers relentless until her cries softened into shuddering moans, until she sagged against the granite, breathless and undone.

He pulled back slowly, lips and chin slick, staring up at her in awe. She was gorgeous like this—trembling, panting, still glowing from climax—and he’d been the one to do it.

“God, you smell and taste so fucking good down there!” he panted as he rose, snuggling up against her back and kissing her shoulder and neck.

Jenna shivered at his dirty compliment, still trembling. His body pressed hard against hers, cock hot and swollen against the curve of her ass through his open jeans. She tilted her head, lips curling in a smile he couldn’t see.

“Then fuck me, Evan,” she murmured, voice husky. “Show me how much you need that married pussy.”

He groaned, gripping her hips and guiding himself between her slick folds. The heat of her made his vision blur, and with one slow thrust, he sank deep inside her, her knee still resting on the island’s cool granite top.

“Ohhh, yes,” Jenna moaned, pushing back against him. “God, you feel so good—don’t stop.”

Her encouragement ignited him. Evan pulled back and drove in again, harder this time, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing off the kitchen walls. He set a rhythm, each stroke deeper, rougher, his groans mixing with her gasps.

“That’s it,” Jenna urged, her voice rising. “Harder. Just like that. Give it to me. Take that married cunt like it’s yours!”

Evan’s teeth clenched, hands gripping her hips as he drove into her. Her body rocked against the counter, breasts swaying, her moans growing louder with every stroke.

“Fuck me, Evan—don’t hold back,” she cried, glancing over her shoulder with a look that nearly broke him. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Take it. All of it.”

He bent forward, pressing his chest to her back, lips trailing kisses along her shoulder and neck. His hips hammered into her, his breath ragged against her skin.

“Yes, yes, yes…” Jenna’s cries filled the kitchen, sharp and needy. “Oh God—you’re hitting me so deep—don’t you dare stop now! Make this slut wife cum again!”

Her words, her voice, the grip of her body around him—it was too much. Evan’s rhythm grew frantic, sweat dampening his brow as he drove into her with everything he had. Jenna’s moans spiked higher, trembling on the edge, until her whole body seized.

“Ohhh, Evan!” she screamed, climax crashing through her, her pussy clamping down hard around him, milking him with each pulse.

Evan groaned deep in his chest, holding her tight as she shuddered beneath him, her orgasm rippling in waves.

Jenna slumped against the counter, panting, body still trembling from release. Evan pulled out slowly, slick and throbbing, his chest heaving. For a moment, he just stared at her—at the flushed skin of her back, the way her hair clung to her damp neck—unable to believe what had just happened.

Then Jenna lowered her leg, turned, and eased herself onto the edge of the island.

Her eyes glittered, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a sultry smile. She opened her thighs in invitation.

“Come here,” she whispered, crooking a finger.

Evan stepped between her legs, gripping her hips as she pulled him close. His cock pressed against her slick entrance, and with one thrust, he was inside her again.

She cried out, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Mmm, yes—just like that. Kiss me.”

Their mouths crashed together, tongues tangling, hungry and desperate. Jenna moaned into his mouth as his hips drove forward, the counter rocking beneath them.

“Deeper, Evan—yes, fuck me deep,” she gasped against his lips. “Fill me up—God, I want to feel you.”

Evan groaned, pounding harder, every thrust pulling ragged moans from her throat. Her nails raked lightly down his back, her body arching into his.

“Ohhh, don’t stop,” she pleaded, voice breaking. “I want it—I want all of it—don’t you dare pull out.”

The words undid him. Evan clung to her, thrusting faster, harder, their mouths crashing together again. Her cries, her heat, her tightness—everything pushed him to the brink.

“Jenna—I’m gonna—”

“Yes!” she cried, legs locking tighter around him. “Do it—inside me, Evan—give me your hot cum!”

He groaned loud and deep, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded. Hot pulses of release spilled into her, filling her in long, shuddering spurts. Jenna moaned, holding him tight, kissing him through the aftershocks.

He stayed pressed against her, trembling, his cock still throbbing inside her warmth. She stroked his hair, breathless but smiling, whispering into his ear.

“Mmm… that’s it. That’s my good boy. You gave me everything.”

When he finally pulled back, their bodies still trembling, Jenna gasped and glanced down. A thick stream of his cum slid out of her, dripping down the edge of the granite island before pattering onto the floor.

For a moment, they just stared—then both broke into breathless chuckles.

“Um…” Jenna laughed softly, still flushed. “I’m going to need to clean that up before Mike gets home.”

Evan grinned, dazed. “We made the mess together. I’ll help.”

She kissed him once more, then hopped down, still glowing.

They lingered there, sweaty and spent, laughter dissolving into quiet breaths. For Evan, it still didn’t feel real—that he’d just had Jenna Carlson on her kitchen counter, filled her, made her moan his name. For Jenna, it felt like exactly what it was meant to be: a perfectly timed indulgence… one her husband would enjoy seeing later when she showed him the footage from all the surveillance cameras around the house. She loved the idea—which Evan could never know—that she and Mike had an “agreement” about their sex life, and this was no violation of that pact. Still, she knew Evan would savor the memory more if he thought it was done behind Mike’s back.

Jenna grabbed some paper towels. “Alright—you get the floor, I’ll get the island.”

Evan crouched down, wiping up the splatters on the tile. Every time he glanced up, her bare curves swayed as she leaned over the counter to mop her side. He nearly groaned all over again.

When they finished, Jenna pulled her robe back on and cinched the belt. Evan zipped his jeans, cheeks pink. As she bent to scoop up her discarded thong, he hesitated, then blurted:

“Um… would you mind if I… kept those?”

Jenna paused, brows lifting. Then she laughed—a rich, amused sound. “You want a souvenir?”

He flushed hotter. “I… yeah. I mean, if you don’t mind. Just… to remember this.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re ridiculous.” But instead of teasing further, she pressed the silky scrap into his hand. “Go on, then. Take them. Just don’t wave them around at the office.”

He clutched them like treasure. “I won’t. Promise.”

At the door, she leaned in for one last kiss—slow, lingering, sweeter than he expected. Then she smiled and gently closed the door behind him.

Evan stumbled back to his car, dazed, her taste and scent still on his lips. When he slid behind the wheel, he just sat there, breathing hard, heart racing. He’d done it. He’d actually had her. He lifted her thong to his nose to savor the scent before stuffing it into his pocket.

He fired up the engine, and his stereo roared to life: AC/DC’s “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.” The pounding guitars filled the car as he pulled out of the driveway, grinning like an idiot. His cock was still sore, her thong stuffed in his pocket, and the memory of Jenna’s moans was burned into his brain forever.

Evan laughed aloud, euphoric, the music shaking the windows. For months, she’d been out of reach—older, married, untouchable. And now, impossibly, she was his secret.

Epilogue

By Monday afternoon, the office buzzed with the aftermath of Mike Carlson’s high-stakes client meeting. Evan kept his head down, shuffling papers, pretending to focus, though his thoughts hadn’t left Jenna since Saturday.

When Mike appeared in the hallway, sharp in his suit and looking every bit the polished executive, Evan froze. His stomach lurched. God, what if he knows?

Mike’s eyes found him. For a tense second, Evan couldn’t breathe. Then Mike walked straight over, extending his hand.

“Evan,” he said warmly, gripping his hand with practiced firmness. “I wanted to thank you for giving up part of your Saturday to drop that gift by. I really appreciate it.”

Evan nodded quickly. “Of course. Happy to help.”

Mike’s smile held, his gaze unreadable. “Jenna mentioned you stopped in. She said she enjoyed the visit. And…” His pause was brief but deliberate. “…she thinks you’ve got a bright future here.”

Evan’s heart stumbled. He swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “That’s… very kind of her.”

Mike gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go. “Well—keep it up. You’re doing good work.”

Then he turned and walked away, calm and collected.

Evan finally let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging. Relief washed through him. She didn’t tell him. Our secret’s safe.

Down the hall, Mike’s lips curved into the faintest smile, one that masked its true meaning. He knew exactly what had transpired—and he was perfectly fine with it.

THE END