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A mature neighbour improves a lazy Saturday evening.
My day had been lazy and generally unproductive – just the way I liked it, for a Saturday evening. I had lounged around the room all day in a pair of tight blue boxer briefs; watching television; eating whatever I fancied and idly playing on my laptop. This was my idea of a relaxing, enjoyable weekend alone. Nothing could disturb me.

No sooner had I thought this than my phone vibrated on the table in front of me. An ear-piercing song that I had once loved – now a grating noise to be tolerated – filled the room. It was the first disturbance all day, but it was still an unwelcome one. I sighed irritably, reaching out and snatching it up.

The screen showed one word: Helen. A picture accompanied her name, one which made me grin a little evilly. It was something I’d snapped from my bedroom window, one night. I never knew if Helen posed around in front of her window intentionally or not - knowing my room lay opposite hers - but I guessed she was fully aware of herself.

Helen was older than me, by at least 15 years I would say. If ever there was an archetypal ‘milf’, Helen was the epitome. She was middling height (and age, just about) with blonde, shoulder length hair and a curvy figure. She was a gorgeous specimen, full of grace and poise. I often wondered what could ever bring her husband to work away so much. It would take God and all his minions to tear me away from her.

I smiled. The image of her bare-breasted body stretching in front of her window shined from my phone, captioned with her name. I admired the swell of her breasts yet again and marvelling at the obvious sight of her pink areolas. My lips were licked, involuntarily.

I couldn’t resist answering her call now such wicked thoughts had entered my mind. I lay back on the sofa, forcing myself to calm as I answered at last. I was hoping to be suave about it. I took a deep breath before speaking.

“Hello.” There was a quiet on the other end which kind of ruined the confidence I had felt upon answering. “Hello?”

A small, plaintive voice issued forth. “Hello, is that… Is that you, Ben?”

I smiled to hear the coy tone of voice she used, feeling my confidence returning. “Yes. Hello, Helen. Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

I lay back, intrigued to know why she was calling me late in the evening like this. I couldn’t resist my mind drifting towards certain unholy thoughts.

“I…” she started, trailing off. “I don’t know if you know, but my husband is out of town for a few days. Or weeks, perhaps.” A grin spread like jam across my face at the intriguing possibilities. Helen continued, “I hate to be a bother, but… I have a job for you. A man’s job, if you will. It shouldn’t take long, I promise. Would you mind coming over?”

My naughty thoughts fell through in an instant and I struggled to hide my disappointment as I told her I would be right there. I threw the phone down, tutting under my breath. I cursed quietly, dreading to think what job she would have for me. It was with a deep reluctance that I went upstairs to get dressed for the first time that day.

I entered my bedroom, still grumbling. Handy man jobs drifted across my mind: a leaky pipe, a blocked drain. I shuddered at the thought, swearing at my ruined evening. I stopped still, frowning to myself. If she wanted a pickle jar opening, I would scream.

I glanced at the jogging bottoms strewn on my bed, wondering if any particular image was important. My eyes drifted up, pondering, to look out of my window. I froze, my gaze locked on the house opposite. Helen was back in her window. My lights were low and I was sure she wouldn’t see me, but I saw her.

She adjusted the straps of the black lace bodysuit that was so inadequately hid her modesty. My jaw dropped as I examined her closely. The sheer fabric that clung to her breasts failed to hide the unmistakable colour of her pink nipples on her pale, fair skin. A small, narrow lace ‘V’ connected it to matching black panties that were no doubt just as revealing.

She admired herself in the mirror, while I admired her in the window. I felt my boxers tenting with my growing erection and I felt torn. I simply wanted to rush over there and take her, for so blatantly teasing me, but part of me wanted to enjoy the seductive show she was putting on. My hand descended, rubbing my cock through my shorts as she turned on the spot. The back of the suit was non-existent except for a strap across her back and the string that returned between her tight, plump arse cheeks.

She arched her back, letting her hair cascade over her shoulders like water on rocks. Her back dimpled, accentuating the line of her spine and the roundness of her buttocks. I watched in awe as she pawed at her arse. She squeezed and cupped her cheeks, letting them drop and admiring their shape. A smile crossed her lips as she lightly smacked her firm peaches, giggling to herself.

I was stroking myself now, unashamedly, in the window. I had hoped she would look around and see me, but her eyes remained fixed on her own body. I could hardly blame her. She turned back once more, taking the weight of her impressive breasts in both hands and gently squeezing. I watched her head roll back with a low moan at the sensation, desperately wishing I could hear the gentle voice give its pleasured breath in my ear.

Helen turned and walked away, leaving me at the window unsatisfied. My mind was made up. I was going over there, dressed to impress. I quickly grabbed a white shirt I knew clung to my frame very nicely and threw it on with a pair of black suit trousers. I skipped down the stairs, snatching up my phone and adjusting the open buttons of my shirt in the mirror. Stepping into a pair of shoes and fiddling with my hair one last time, I stepped casually into the street, determined to look unfazed.

Taking a deep breath and settling my shoulders, I reached out and knocked on the door. There was a pause for thirty seconds; long enough to unnerve me slightly. I was about to knock once more when I the handle turned, slowly. I settled back again, determined to look my best, as the door slowly opened and a ray of bright light burned through the darkness of the evening.

“Hello,” said a timid voice on the other side as Helen peered around the door. “Come in, please.”

She opened the door barely wide enough for me to squeeze through, unwilling to show herself. I stepped inside, turning as I cleared the swing of the door. It closed with a satisfying click. Helen immediately brushed past me, scurrying down the hall. I was slightly disappointed to see she wore a grey satin kimono. I could’ve sworn I heard her inhale as she passed me, causing a smile to tug at my lips. I was wearing my best scent.

“Would you like a cuppa?” she asked meekly, heading into the kitchen.

I followed, answering her, “Yes, please sweetie.”

I was still trying to get my bearings on my current situation. I scanned the modestly adorned hallway looking for any clues I might glean. Nothing caught my attention. She reappeared in the doorway as I reached it.

“Take a seat in the front room, if you don’t mind. I’ll be right in.”

I stopped, our eyes meeting with a tension that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I nodded, slowly turning to make my way into the front room. It was nicely decorated, in a relatively minimalistic manner. Artistic black and white photographs of embracing couples hung on the walls.

I sat on the two-seater leather sofa in the centre of the room, feeling slightly conspicuous. I adjusted myself. I was made uncomfortable by the leaking of my cock in my boxers. I silently cursed, wishing I’d calmed down and changed my underwear beforehand. What was I thinking, rushing over like this?

I berated myself as Helen entered clutching two cups and saucers. She walked to me, bending to place the saucer in my hand. Her kimono opened slightly and I was given an intoxicating view of her cleavage. My leaking manhood twitched.

She leaned against the fireplace as we both quietly sipped our tea, the room filled with an expectant silence. I cleared my throat, speaking up as she looked to me.

“So you said you had a job for me, Helen?” I asked politely, taking a drink of my tea. Scalding hot, just perfectly made. I was pleasantly surprised. She looked to her feet, almost anxiously, without speaking. “Helen?”

Our eyes met. There was a shyness to her that I found surprising. She could barely meet my gaze, her eyes flicking around the room. “Yes, I…” she started, failing and looking back down at the floor. Her cup was placed down, steadily.

I patted the seat next to me, waving her over. She looked nervous, but she slowly made her way over to me, sitting down with her hands on her knees. She looked at me once more with an almost apologetic expression. I put down my tea.

“Is everything okay, Helen?” I asked her, placing my hand over hers and gently squeezing. “What do you need?”

Her eyes moved from my hand on hers to my chest and up to look into mine with that same look. She opened her mouth to speak before closing it and looking away, blushing. She inhaled again, biting her lip. There was only quiet for a few seconds as Helen’s foot bounced, restlessly.

“I’m here for you,” I told her, emphasising the last two words deliberately.

A tempest raged behind her eyes, but her face showed only that same coy and apologetic expression.

“There is no job, is there, Helen?” I asked slowly.

She looked up at me, pupils dilated; her mouth opening but failing to speak. She looked down and away again, unable to meet my gaze. I reached out with one finger on her chin, turning her to face me. Her eyes tried to shy away from mine.

“There is no job, is there, Helen?” I repeated, deliberately.

She finally found my stare with her pretty, brown orbs, carefully shaking her head.

“You just wanted an excuse to get me over here, didn’t you?” I asked, feeling more confident.

“I…” she said breathlessly, failing once more and looking away from me before I could bring her eyes back to mine.

“Tell me what you need, Helen,” I spoke gently.

She only bit her lip, looking down at my mouth and letting her sight drift down my body. She closed her eyes tightly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She inhaled deeply when my finger slipped from her chin, stroking gently down the long, smooth shape of her neck. There was no resistance or attempt to stop me, paralyzed by my touch.

“You wanted to get me around here, alone?” I asked her, virtually knowing the answer. She nodded with a coy expression. “You wanted something from me, then, I assume?” I asked, letting my fingertip slide over her collarbone and trace the neckline of her loose robe. Again, she nodded, biting her lip hard.

I leaned in close, breathing on her lips and tracing the fold of her robe down to the strap that held it closed. “Was it something like this?” I asked, fingering the silky material and leaning in to kiss her lips softly and carefully. I allowed her to sink into me and gradually kiss me back. Our lips parted and the backs of my fingers tickled the bare skin of her stomach, beneath the satin cover. She shivered against me, yet I was the one with goose bumps.

“Yes, just like that,” she breathed, closing her eyes and breathing heavily. They opened once more to look into mine with a visible hunger, gnawing on her lip. “And… A little more, besides,” she told me, grinning slightly.

I smiled, noticing an immediate growth in her confidence. I allowed my gaze to glide over her body, taking in the expanse of her cleavage beneath the thin, shiny material. My fingers tugged at the kimono that kept us apart. We locked eyes as I slowly pulled the strap around her waist; and locked lips as it fell open, before I could examine her up close..

My hands reached up to cup her face and we kissed, deeply and passionately. The tension broke immediately, our bodies relaxed into each other and I felt her fingernails clawing at the back of my neck. We held close to each other as our tongues danced, unwilling to break the kiss.

With a pop, our lips parted at last, allowing us to catch our breath. My hand was around Helen’s chin, tipping her head back to kiss her throat. She sighed, relaxing into my touch as my hand brushed the satin robe from her shoulders. It fell away and she shuddered, gasping to feel my teeth raking down her neck.

I pulled back, stroking my hands down her shoulders and her arms to admire her body at last. My teeth were gritted and my grip was firm as I took in the sight of her heaving chest within that sheer, lace outfit. Her pink nipples were puffy and erect, unmissable beneath the flimsy material.

I kissed down the centre of Helen’s chest, causing her to moan and giggle. Her fingers wrapped into my hair. She allowed her head to tip back, pushing her chest towards me as I licked back up her body and over her throat to plant another deep, lingering kiss on her ruby red lips. We stared at each other for a moment, revelling in the sudden passion we shared.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me,” she said, quietly. She wasn’t asking. I only looked at her beneath my eyebrows, leaning down to kiss her collarbone and over her shoulder to the tuneful sound of tinkling giggles. “Is it, Ben?”

I smiled, opening my mouth to gently bite her shoulder, growling playfully into her skin. “No,” I admitted, stroking my hand over her cheek softly. “I’ve seen you in your window. You wanted me to see you, didn’t you?” I asked, smiling at her closed eyes and gentle gasps of gratitude to feel my lips on her chest. “You enjoyed showing me your gorgeous body, knowing how hot it would make me.” I bit her chest, inches above her breasts, causing her to gulp loudly.

Helen looked down at me with a burning fire raging in her gaze. “Did my body make you hot, Ben? Did you want me, watching me posing and prancing naughtily for you?”

I chuckled, marvelling in the sudden naughtiness of this previously shy housewife. I made a show of biting her skin between her breasts, looking into her eyes as I growled into her, sucking her skin into my mouth. I held her jaw in my hand as I leaned over, brushing her lips with mine teasingly.

“Watching your sexy shows always got my cock hard and throbbing, Helen,” I confessed with a naughty smile, feeling myself growing rigid. “How does it feel to know I used to sit there stroking myself, watching your hot body, wishing I could fuck you right against that window?”

She gasped, her head rolling back with her eyes, giving me the perfect chance to feast on her throat, making her gasp once more. “It feels so naughty, Ben!” she confessed, bunching my hair in her fingers. “It feels dirty and wicked!” Her eyes dropped to mine with a wide grin. “It feels fantastic.”

She stood, surprising me with the confidence she was showing. I gazed longingly at her body in that tiny, revealing outfit. Her ample breasts hung perfectly, her nipples poking through the material deliciously. My lips hungered to feel them. The tight, smooth curve of her body was tantalising; the skin silky and tempting.

Helen’s body swayed with a silent music only she could hear, smiling down at me as she bit her lip. Her hands explored her body, sliding over her breasts and revelling in the feeling of my eyes feasting on her. My gaze descended towards her sex, interrupted at the final moment as she stepped towards me, dropping to her knees.

Her hands were on my legs, opening them and smiling up at me with a lick of her lips. “I’ve always wondered what your cock would look like in your hands as you stroked it for me,” she confessed, biting her bottom lip hard. “I always wondered what you would look like through that window. Why did you never turn on the lights?” she pouted with an impish smile.

Her hands reached for the belt on my trousers, unbuckling me with ragged, heavy breaths. She gaped up at me, allowing her hand to drift over the prominent bulge and sighing. She stopped before stripping them from me, a flash of her eyes signalling a new wicked idea.

She stood, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. “Come with me,” she cooed, pulling me towards the door and leading on. I settled in behind her, rubbing the aching tent of my trousers as I admired the sway and shake of her tight, round arse before me. She was even more fantastic up close. I reached out and flicked the thin string that returned between her cheeks, bringing a giggle from her lips.


I only bared my teeth playfully in response, watching her looking back at me with a cheeky smile. I very much enjoyed the sight of her swinging hips and bouncing buttocks. I slapped her playfully as she led me up the stairs and she cooed appreciatively with each touch.

At the top of the stairs, she turned into a bedroom. Cream painted walls and a lush, thick carpet welcomed me, along with a double bed daubed in red sheets. Helen took my hand and guided me to a chair at the foot of the bed, kissing me softly and pushing me into it. She smiled at my shocked expression.

“You’re going to show me what you do during my ‘sexy shows’,” she chuckled, pressing a finger to my lips. “I want you to show me how hot I really make you.”

She took a step back, smiling coyly once more. Helen turned on the spot, bending at the waist and showing me up close the beautiful curve of her body and her plump cheeks. She looked back over her shoulder, biting her lip and running her hands over it.

“You like my ass, do you, Ben?” she asked me, slapping it and letting out a small whimper.

I smiled, nodding my head. “I love it, Helen, it’s so juicy, round and firm, I just want to…”

Helen interrupted me, smacking away the hand that had reached out for her. “Not yet!” she giggled, slapping it herself and wiggling her arse at me. “I want you to admire the sexy show. You can’t touch me. Understood?”

I nodded, rubbing the visible shape of my cock through my trousers. Helen tutted and bent over to look back at me from between her thighs - something that amazed me and turned me on no end. My eyes slid over the faint outline of her pussy - through the thin bodysuit - and down to meet with hers. “Don’t be shy,” she told me with a smile, sucking on her lip. “Take it out. I want you to stroke it for me.”

She bit her lip hard, watching me reaching for my belt. Her hands reached back, spreading herself and slapping her arse gently as I fished my cock from my trousers, fumbling. It sprung out, already aching and dripping. Helen’s face contorted with an immediate craving, biting at her lip.

“Stroke it for me!” she gasped, immediately reaching between her legs, rubbing her pussy through the lace. She patted herself firmly, gasping and squirming on the spot as she backed up to me. I could smell her arousal, I could see the dampness on the lace and the outline of her swollen lips.

My manhood was already in my hand and twitching. I started slow, laughing quietly to hear Helen moan. She’d been watching me take hold of my length and she had seen the stream of clear pre-cum that flowed down my shaft in torrents. Watching me spread it over my meat had her breathing shallow already and her fingers tapping at her clit. She quivered and shook with each gentle slap, an addict seeking release.

Her eyes never left my manhood as she hungrily watched my hand swipe up and down my length. Wet sounds filled the expectant silence with every slurping stroke of my leaking rod. I lay my head back to watch Helen’s performance, moaning in unison with her. She backed up to me, brushing the backs of her legs on my knees. The tease of her sex so close to me was agonising.

Our eyes met and I gripping myself and pumping the length stiffly, squeezing yet more juices from my tip to run down my hand. Helen gasped in surprise, smacking her sex in reply. Her eyes were wide and shocked, filled with a fire and desire.

“Oh you dirty boy,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Are you always this fucking sexy?” Her eyes opened again, locking with mine as she teased her fingers over the wet patch of her bodysuit.

“Always,” I growled with a cheeky grin, meeting her gaze. “Especially while I’m watching this sexy, filthy milf next door who likes to pose for me.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, gnawing on our lips. I leaned forward and took both hands to my shaft, twisting it in my grip as I stroked. My hot breath drifted across the wet, aching sex parked in front of me. Helen didn’t move, except to wiggle her arse, while I leaned closer. I could definitely smell her succulent honey.

“You’re calling me a dirty boy?” I tutted, smiling and inhaling deeply. “You’re the gorgeous, married milf smacking her cunt in front of my face and telling me to stroke for you.” I grinned at her, between her legs. “Now pull that bodysuit out of the way. I want to see your hot slit.”

Helen’s eyes rolled back and I knew I’d won. Her fingers seized the material, pulling it aside. She jumped and gasped with shock as I immediately spat on her dripping lips.

“I can’t touch you, ,” I grinned. “So you’d better rub that into your sweet snatch before it runs down your thighs.”

Helen’s fingers quickly slipped across her skin, smearing the sweet mixture of juices over her swollen, red lips. Her knees buckled slightly when she touched her clit. I was so close that my nose brushed her lips and caused her to gasp, grinning back at me. I slapped my cock gently, drawing her attention before she plunged her fingers unceremoniously into her wanton, aching pussy.

“Don’t you stop stroking, Ben!” she gasped, fingering herself quickly. “I fucking love watching you touch that gorgeous hunk of meat. Show me how much you like my tight cunt!”

I chuckled, meeting her gaze as my hand squeezed my aching member with a happy moan. I stroked myself harder and faster, meeting her pace while I blew cool air onto the wet heat of her sex. Her hips squirmed with the sensation while small squeals and gasps tumbled from her mouth.

Helen could take it no longer, jumping forward with a shriek when I blew directly onto her clit. She must’ve been throbbing –if the wetness of her thighs was anything to go by.

She staggered away, falling back on the bed in front of me with a contented smile. Her legs lifted onto the bed, spreading wide for me while she pulled aside her bodysuit once more. The sight of her raw and dripping cunt was not diminished by the distance. I still felt the hunger burning within me.

Her lips were soon spread, the pink of her pussy unmistakable in the artificial light of the room. I stroked myself for her, letting her watch and rub herself in time. Our pace was gentle, increasing slightly by the second. The walls echoed with our synchronised moans and disbelieving giggles.

“I always knew you were watching me,” she moaned between sharp breaths. “I’ve seen you with those women you bring home. I’ve always wanted to – oh fuck that’s good – always wanted to dash around one evening and show you a real woman’s touch!”

Helen’s words began to rain from her lips faster and more urgently, following the pace of her rubbing fingers. I could only moan and watch this gorgeous woman’s desperate state of lust in awe.

“I love knowing you’re over there watching me strip and dance for you! I wish I’d seen you stroke your beautiful dick before today, I’d have fingered my cunt right in the window for you!” she confessed, wrapping her own hand around her throat. Her eyes shot to mine. “Do you always stroke for me, Ben? Tell me how you love it!”

Helen’s tone was desperate; her own words fuelling her passion more and more. She dropped her head back, picking it up again instantly to stare at me, licking her lips with pleading eyes. Her gaze was manic and frantic, overcome with the sheer passion flowing in her veins.

“I always check your window, Helen,” I told her through gritted teeth. “I always look for that hot, older body frolicking in front of the glass for me. I know you love to tease me like that, don’t you?” I asked her, drawing a silent – but violent – nod from her. “I know the shy, timid housewife disappears, then. She’s replaced with an exhibitionist. A slut.”

Helen’s eyes shot up to mine, fixing me. They suddenly rolled into the back of her head with a quiet, restrained moan.

“Yes,” was all she quietly moaned, accepting her new title.

“I watch you dance for me, teasing and stripping. Just seeing you there instantly turns me on, you know? I can’t help it. I throw off my trousers, turning the lights down,” I moaned, bucking my hips into my stroking hand and taking the chance to breathe deeply. “I’m always inches from the glass, Helen. Almost close enough to touch, stroking my cock and moaning, wanting to cum so badly for you. Just like this.”

A quiet, repetitive nod of her head was the only sign she gave for me to continue. Her fingers furiously rubbed at her clit and her lips before she pushed two of them deep inside her, bucking and grinding on them as she fucked herself hard. She was holding back, I could tell, riding the edge.

“Then I take my camera out,” I told her with an evil grin. Her eyes lit with something between anger and lust, frowning at me. I decided to go on. “I stroke myself in one hand while the other photographs your hot body.”

Helen shook before a long groan left her, greatly. Her eyes darted to the chest of drawers next to me. I followed her gaze to a small digital camera. We looked back to each other, eyes wide with excitement and hope. She nodded furiously, smacking her pussy, as my hand reached out.

“Yes!” she cried, her tone pleading. “Photograph me, Ben! I want you to photograph me touching myself for you! I want to pose for you properly!”

Her fingers rubbed frantically as I raised the camera in one hand, still pumping my shaft with the other. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the shutter opened, the camera lighting up. She gasped and moaned with ecstatic pleasure as the first shutter sound echoed in the room.

I turned the camera, showing her the picture of herself lying back on the bed. Her thighs were parted, her knees resting on the sheets. The redness and moisture of her pussy, her bottoms pulled aside, was immediately distinctive. She stared into the camera with a lust-filled expression, burning with passion. Her fingers were buried out of sight.

I turned the camera back, smiling as I stroked myself harder and framed her perfectly once more.

“Again, Helen! Open your mouth and give me your best, pleading eyes. Show me you want to suck my dick,” my tone was light, but there was a firmness I couldn’t hide.

Her eyes closed tight as she rubbed harder, letting her head fall back.

“HELEN!” I shouted, causing her to jump and stare into my eyes. “Now. Slut.”

She groaned loudly, excited by my tone. Her legs fell even further open, spreading her wanton cunt obscenely for me. She fingered hard, opening her mouth and lolling out her tongue with a wicked grin. The pleading look in her eyes caused me to throb and my hips jerked instantly. I could’ve walked over and fucked her face in a second.

The shutter sounded again, bringing another moan from her lips and a marked increase in the ferocity of her fingers. Helen’s fiery eyes met mine and she nodded, wanting to see the picture. I only shook my head with a smile, lying back to languidly stroke myself right to the tip.

“You’ll see them, afterwards,” I told her, smiling and raising the camera again. “Show me your beautiful breasts first, Helen. Take them out of that lacy effort and let me see them properly, at last.”

The computer pinged in the corner of the room and we both jumped before Helen looked back at me, regaining her composure. I raised my eyebrows in a silent command, bringing a naughty grin to her. She reached up with one hand, unwilling to bring her fingers from her pussy, to pull the lace material from her substantial breasts.

The shutter clicked; we both shared a wicked grin. Spurred on, she took her hand to her breast, squeezing and pinching her nipple hard. The shutter sounded yet again and I had to groan for a second, squeezing my cock. I stroked it harder in an attempt to relieve the aching tension building within me. My pre-cum poured from my tip to bring lubricious noises from my pumping grip.

“More,” I told her shortly, raising the camera again. The computer pinged once more while she tugged on her sensitive, solid nipple. Her pleading eyes rolled and met mine. That was another picture for the camera.

We both increased our pace. I rubbed myself faster, barely able to keep the camera still as I repeatedly captured the sight of her intense and beautiful self-pleasure. The memory on the camera quickly filled with images of Helen’s beautiful body being mauled in her hands.

Her breath was short and desperate when she reached her foot out to stroke my knee. Our eyes met as her fingers slapped her own pussy hard, cutting the tension with an ear-piercing shriek of satisfaction. The lust that burned in her eyes when they met mine could’ve taken me over the edge.

“Enough, Ben! I want to see more!” she told me, her tone fast and desperate to match her frantic fingering. “I want to see you cum for me! I want to feel your hot, sticky load on my skin – reward me for being such a filthy slut for you!”

She slipped from the bed, resting her head on the mattress and opening her mouth wide. Her fingers still plundered her sopping lips with total debauchery. She rolled out her tongue in one naughty, gracious manner – waiting for my climax.

“One last picture, Ben!” she moaned, smacking her pussy again and screaming in pleasure. “One last picture of your horny housewife begging for your delicious cream!”

I tried to stand, but she cried out to me, “No! Stay where you are!” Her eyes softened and she looked up at me with eyes so wide I couldn’t resist. “Please.”

Sitting down again, I raised the camera while I pumped my cock right to the edge. Helen’s tongue rolled out once more, her mouth open and waiting. Her whole body quivered with the edge of her climax, her hips and body rocking onto the fingers that plunged so savagely into her sex.

“You want me to cum on your face, you gorgeous little slut?” I groaned, framing her face perfectly. Her eyes pleaded with mine, the desperation etched on her face as the camera clicked. Groans of satisfaction rolled from her still-open mouth, her whole body shaking with the effort.

“Please!” she cried as the camera clicked once more, before I threw it down, pumping myself with both hands, frantically. “Stand up, Ben! Paint my body in your seed!”

I stood, growling and groaning as I felt my body begin to break the boundaries of my orgasm. I quivered with the effort, my body shaking and convulsing with the pleasure. My throbbing, aching dick was inches from Helen’s face as I shouted into the room, feeling the walls of my orgasm break. Pleasure surged through me, forcing out the first hot rope of cum that splashed across Helen’s waiting face.

She cried out with total abandon and happiness, her head reclining with the sudden rush of her own climax. She screamed into the room, fucking herself hard right there on her knees as streak after streak coated her face. My body twitched, my cock brushing her lips as I thrust towards her. Her tongue shot out, instinctively, licking my tip.

Before I knew it, I’d pushed my still pulsing dick between Helen’s plump, expectant lips. My hips slid forward, fucking the mouth that had sealed so tightly around me. Helen’s whole body squirmed and convulsed with the pleasure. Her orgasm re-doubled and feeling her moan around my cock forced one last hot pump of cum into her mouth.

We held still together, shaking and panting with the explosive effort. Looking down at her, my eyes found hers staring into mine. Her mouth still greedily sucked at my softening cock, her tongue teasing me inside her mouth. Helen’s eyes betrayed the lust and shock that fought within her mind, while her fingers’ probing movements at her sex gave away the abandonment that filled her.

My manhood slipped from her lips and we both looked at each other for a second without expression. Then, grins spread across our faces in perfect time. The movement caused a droplet of thick semen to trickle down her cheek and her jaw line.

Helen perfectly, elegantly, mopped it up with the back of her finger, smiling happily. The finger was placed between her lips and sucked diligently clean. She softly planted a kiss on the tip of my softening meat.

“Thank you, Ben,” she said, breathlessly. “I should get cleaned up.” She kissed my tip once more, biting her lip as thoughts raced through her head. “I’ll be back quickly.”

I helped her to her feet, straightening her hair as she stood in front of me. Before I could speak, she slid from my grasp and out of the door.

The computer in the corner pinged.

Curiosity got the better of me. I had to know what had been happening all this time.

Glancing around, I made sure Helen had left and I padded over to the desk, turning on the monitor and waiting for it to light up. I looked around again, impatient, willing it on.

The room filled with the flaring light of the screen. My eyes took a second to adjust. There was an instant messenger page.

“Brian Mellor,” I whispered, reading the name of the chat window. Helen’s surname was Mellor, I was sure of it. Was Brian her husband?

The window was flashing – she had messages. I couldn’t resist opening the flashing box. I couldn’t explain my motives, but my interest was piqued. The window opened and a page of large images filled the screen.

They were our pictures. The pictures I’d taken of Helen were here, fed directly to the chat window with her husband. I scrolled up and saw the last message she’d sent to him.

“Thinking of you, baby.”

I froze for a second before scrolling through the pictures. I had to admit, even post-climax I found the sight of them stirring me once more. Her beautiful body was laid out on the bed like a masterpiece, played and fingered to a tune that was a delight to witness even in these pictures.

I stopped when I saw a message from Brian: “Oh God, rub your beautiful pussy for me, my darling. I wish I was there to fuck you hard, like you deserve.”

Scrolling down, I found similar messages all the way until the last picture we’d taken together. From the tone of his messages, it had been more than enough for Brian, as well as me.

I turned the monitor off once more, heading back towards the foot of the bed with my thoughts twisting. I sat down, waiting for Helen to re-appear as my mind went through what I’d just discovered.

Brian had no idea what his wife was up to while he was away. Brian had no idea that at this moment she was washing another man’s cum from her face.

I glanced towards the camera, discarded on the floor, with a wry smile.

Brian had no idea that his slut wife was about to get exactly what she deserved. 

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