“How’s life?” Rock hollered as he sat down on the barstool next to Will, signalling the barman and ordering a beer.

The two men drank their drinks over idle chatter, but Will had to tell someone his secret.

“Baltimore's got me twisted up,” Will started his story, chasing the memory of Jasmine.

“You go there for work quite a bit, don’t you?” Rock replied.

“Yes. I met this woman, Jasmine, at a Christmas party in some fancy hotel. We ended up fucking like animals in my room; her pussy milked my dick dry. But she is married, two kids.”

Rock's eyebrows shot up, but he chuckled, leaning in. “Damn, Will. You always go for the forbidden fruit. What's the deal? Just a one-off?”

Will shook his head, eyes distant, cock twitching at the thought.

“We’ve met up several times now, whenever I go there for work.”

Rock whistled low, sipping his drink. “Shit, she's fire. But married? You're playing with dynamite, buddy. What's got you so obsessed? Her body's that good?”

“It's everything,” Will growled.

Will's phone then buzzed on the sticky bar, cutting through the low murmur of the crowd like a spark. He glanced down, and Jasmine's name lit up the screen. It was like she knew she was being talked about. Attached were three photos, each one hitting him like a punch to the gut.

The first showed her full body, stretched out on her silk sheets in nothing but a sheer black robe that clung to her curves like a second skin. Her dark skin glowed under the soft lamp light, full breasts rising with each breath, nipples hard and poking through the fabric. Her legs were parted just enough to tease the shadow between her thighs, one hand trailing down her flat stomach toward her mound. Will's cock twitched in his jeans, the memory of burying his face there flooding back.

Rock noticed his sudden stillness. “Everything good, man?”

“Yeah, just... work stuff.”

His eyes were glued to the second image: a close-up of her feet. Jasmine's soles arched gracefully, toes painted a deep crimson that matched her lipstick from their last hookup. She flexed them toward the camera, the smooth arches and delicate heels begging to be touched, licked, maybe even wrapped around his shaft. He imagined her pressing those feet against his chest while he thrust into her, the contrast of her warm skin against his driving him wild.

The third photo sealed it—her pussy, spread wide with her fingers pulling back the dark lips to reveal the pink wetness inside. Juices glistened on her folds, her clit swollen and peeking out like it needed attention right then.

Will shifted in his seat and put his phone away. He couldn’t resist her, but it was eating him up inside. He just felt this whole situation wasn’t going to end well. She has been married for over twenty years and has two children. Was she planning to leave her husband? Was he just a bit on the side, wild excitement that relieved her mundane married existence?

Will had been married once; no children and a messy divorce had left him alone. He had since shied away from serious relationships. But his monthly meetups with Jasmine in Baltimore were becoming increasingly meaningful. Every time he said goodbye to her, it felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind. He needed to switch off from her and take this affair for what it probably was, a wild, passionate spark, a short-lived thrill that would slowly fade. He should stop thinking about her, certainly for at least tonight, and enjoy a Kansas night out with Rock.

“Come on, Rock, let’s get another drink and forget about women tonight.”

“You are right, buddy. But if you ever need to talk, know I am here.”

“Cheers, mate.”

Forgetting about women was all well and good, but then Will spotted her. Across the crowded room, leaning against a pillar, a sexy blonde. Long legs in a black skirt, blue crop top hugging full tits that strained the fabric—nipples faintly visible. Her hair cascaded in golden waves, framing a face with sharp cheekbones and full lips painted red. Their eyes locked, intense, electric. She smirked, recognising him instantly.

Tessa, his old flame from college days, wild weekends of all-night fucks in dorm rooms. She'd ride him reverse cowgirl, ass bouncing, screaming his name until neighbours banged on the walls. Will's pulse kicked up, cock stirring through the Jasmine haze. Tessa sauntered over, hips swaying, confidence radiating like she knew exactly the effect she had. Her red stilettos gleamed under the bar lights, her long bare legs parting slightly to straddle the stool next to the two men. She then crossed them with a deliberate slowness, the smooth skin of her inner thigh brushing Will's jeans, sending a spark up his spine. Her foot arched high in the stiletto, toes flexing to deepen that great toe cleavage.

“Will Devlin? Fuck me, it's been what, ten years?' Her voice was husky, laced with that same teasing lilt he remembered.

She leaned forward, her hand sliding up his thigh, nails scraping lightly over the fabric toward his hardening cock.

“You look tense, Will,” she purred, her breath hot against his ear.

Suddenly, Jasmine wasn’t in his mind; this was the distraction he needed.

“This is Rock,” Will said, introducing his friend.

Rock kissed her on the cheek; she smelled so good. He offered to get some drinks. The bar was more crowded than earlier, and there was no sign of service, forcing Rock to walk to the other end where the barman was busy serving.

Will's mind flashed back to the tiny thongs he remembered Tessa wearing, barely qualifying as underwear. Memories of her bending over, her short dresses riding up just enough to reveal the thin strip of lace wedged between her firm ass cheeks. It was so small, that scrap of fabric clinging desperately to her pussy. It made him wonder what she was wearing under that skirt.

She caught him staring, turning with a sly smile, her stiletto dangling as she flexed her foot. She uncrossed her legs, the hem of her dress crept up, showing the sheer white G-string that vanishes into her cleft, the back string lost in the curve of her ass. She leaned back, spreading her knees, letting Will glimpse her juices darkening the fabric.

“It's riding up,” she whispers, her fingers dipping down to adjust it, pulling the string taut so it pressed into her asshole, making her squirm and bite her lip.

Memories flooded back, mixing with Jasmine's texts, as Tessa's current touch reignited the fire. Tessa's fingers grazed Will's zipper. Will's hand instinctively gripped her bare thigh, feeling the taut muscle flex under his palm, her skin silky and heated. Tessa's eyes locked on his, laced with promise.

“Want to feel these legs wrapped around you?” Her free hand cupped her own breast, thumb circling her stiff nipple through her top, arching her back to push her cleavage toward him.

“Fuck, yes.”

“Then meet me tomorrow.”

Rock returned with two beers and a Disaronno. Tessa quickly downed her drink, thanked the men, and kissed them goodbye.

The following day, Will got a text from Tessa telling him to meet her at the Kansas Speedway. It was a beautiful afternoon for it, a NASCAR race. The roar of engines vibrating through the stands, the air thick with burnt rubber and hot dogs. He'd come to blow off steam, whether anything happened with Tessa or not; he was forgetting about Jasmine for the weekend. For all he knew, she could be fucking her husband right now. ‘What could he do about it?’

There she was. Tessa, in a short denim skirt and a NASCAR tank that hugged her curves, blonde hair tied back, looked every bit the sexy spectator.

“Fancy meeting you here. Stalking me, Devlin?”

Will grinned, stepping close, the crowd parting around them. His hand grazed her lower back, possessively pulling her against his side. The heat of her body ignited him as his cock hardened.

The roar of engines echoed through the Speedway as Will and Tessa strolled along the perimeter track, the summer heat making the air thick and charged. Her denim skirt hugged her hips, the frayed hem brushing mid-thigh, while those wedge sandals elevated her long legs, showcasing her arched feet nestled perfectly. The straps crisscrossed over her instep, and her toes—painted a deep blue—peeked out, flexing slightly with each step on the gravel path. Will couldn't tear his eyes away from how the wedges forced her calves to tauten, her heels lifted high, making her ass sway enticingly under the skirt. His pulse quickened at the sight of her bare skin, remembering those tiny thongs that had driven him wild.

“Tessa, what kind of panties are you wearing under that skirt?”

She slowed her pace, a wicked grin spreading across her lips as she turned to face him, one hand trailing down her thigh to toy with the skirt's edge.

“Curious, huh? Why don't you guess?”

“I bet it's one of those barely-there strings, riding up your ass crack, getting soaked just from walking like this.”

Tessa laughed softly, husky and inviting, then leaned in, her breath warm against his ear.

“It's a black lace thong, Will. So thin it disappears between my cheeks, the front just a scrap covering my pussy—already damp thinking about you.”

Tessa's hand lingered on his arm, her fingers tracing lazy circles that sent sparks up his spine.

“I need a quick break—bathroom's just over there.” She nodded toward a cluster of portable toilets near the vendor stands.

Inside the dim, stuffy toilet stall, Tessa hiked up her denim skirt, bunching it around her waist. The black lace thong was drenched, the crotch panel slick with her arousal, sticking to her pussy as she hooked her thumbs into the sides and slid it down her thighs. It peeled away with a wet sound, leaving her exposed—her ass bare, her pussy lips glistening in the cool air. She stepped out of it carefully, avoiding her sandals, then balled the thong in her fist, the damp fabric warm and musky against her palm. A shiver ran through her as the skirt fell back into place, the denim now brushing directly against her naked skin, every breeze teasing her clit.

She emerged moments later, scanning the path until she spotted Will leaning against a railing, his eyes lighting up as she approached. Without a word, she pressed close, her body flush against his, and slipped the balled-up thong into his hand.

“Something for you,” she whispered, her lips grazing his ear.

“Straight from my wet pussy. Feel how soaked it is?”

Will's fingers closed around the warm, damp lace, the scent of her arousal hitting him immediately, salty and sweet, making his mouth water. It reminded him of recent moments when Jasmine had done something similar. He put that thought out of his head.

He pocketed it quickly, but not before rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the slick residue. His free hand slides to her hip, pulling her nearer. Under the skirt, nothing but smooth skin and heat; he could sense it, the way the denim shifted freely now, her bare ass pressing into his palm as he squeezed.

She shifted her weight, one wedge sandal lifting slightly as she balanced on her toes, drawing his attention back to her feet. His cock hardened fully, straining against his zipper as he imagined flipping up that skirt right there, bending her over the railing, and thrusting into her bare cunt while her sandals scraped the ground. The distant engines revved again, masking their heavy breaths, but Will's hand dipped lower, fingers brushing the hem of her skirt, testing the edge.

“Show me,” Will demanded softly.

Tessa glanced around, the thrill of exposure making her nipples harden under her top. She inched the skirt up her thigh, revealing the smooth curve of her ass cheek, then higher, until her pussy came into view—pink and slick, folds parted slightly from her walk, juices trailing onto her inner thigh. Her feet planted firm in the wedges, toes splaying for balance as she held the pose, inviting him to touch, to taste, to claim her right there under the Speedway lights.

They found a shadowed alcove behind the vendor tents, away from the main paths, the ground gritty with dirt and discarded cups. Will didn't waste time. He pinned her against the chain-link fence, mouth crashing onto hers, tongue invading deep. Tessa moaned into the kiss, hands yanking his shirt open, nails raking his chest.

His hands shoved up her tank, exposing full, pale tits—pink nipples hard as pebbles. He sucked one into his mouth, biting down, making her gasp and arch. He pinched the other, twisting until she whimpered, then dropped to his knees, flipping her skirt up again, her pussy bare, lips already slick and puffy. He knelt and buried his face in her nakedness, tongue lashing her clit as he tasted her. Tessa's hands fisted his hair, hips bucking.

“Eat that pussy, baby. Suck my clit!”

The race engines continued to roar, masking her moans as he plunged two fingers into her tight hole, curling to hit her G-spot. She dripped down his hand, thighs quaking.

Will stood, unzipping fast, his thick white cock springing free—veins bulging, precum beading at the tip.

“Turn around. Ass out.”

Tessa obeyed, bracing on the fence, skirt hiked, pale cheeks spread. He spat on her asshole, rubbing his cockhead against her pussy lips, teasing. He slammed in, balls-deep in one thrust, her walls clenching hot and wet. Will gripped her hips, pounding relentlessly, the slap of skin echoing faintly under the crowd noise. Each drive marked her—red handprints blooming on her ass from his spanks, the sting making her cry out. Tessa's blonde hair whipped as she looked back, eyes wild.

“Yes! Harder! Make me cum!”

He reached around, thumb circling her clit, fingers dipping to her asshole. She bucked, pussy spasming, squirting around his cock in hot gushes that soaked his jeans.

He pulled out, flipping her to face him, lifting one leg over his hip. Back in, deeper, her tits bouncing with every brutal thrust.

“Gonna cum inside you!”

“Do it!”

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her cunt milking him. Will roared, burying deep, cock pulsing as he unloaded—thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy, leaking out around his shaft. He pulled back, splattering the last spurts on her tits, marking her pale skin with white streaks. Tessa panted, rubbing it in, licking her fingers clean.

“Fuck, Will. Just like old times!”