Brief encounters - with the overnight guest

[Foxy Lady]

I felt the mattress dip as the body pressed against my back.

'What the fu-'

The hand closed my mouth, as my husband snorted and rolled onto his side next to me.

'Shush.'

The hand moved down to my right tit.

'What the fuck are you playing at, Walt, get the hell out of here.'

'What am I playing at? What are you play at more like?'

I tried to turn to face him, but there was no space.

'What do you mean?'

'What do I mean? I mean the way you've been flaunting your body at me all evening, bending over so your tits almost fall out,' he squeezed the right one which he was still holding, 'and bending over so far I can actually see up your crack,' something hard pressed against my ass, 'and all those comments, so innocent but all hinting, inviting, teasing. Bitch.'

He was right – everything was true – I had done what he said. But – typical guy – he had thought it was directed at him.

'That was for my husband. It turns him on, especially when I do it in front of other people.'

No reply to that one. It can take a guy time to process that he is not the recipient of a woman's attention.

'And it worked, didn't it,' I went on. 'Didn't you hear us earlier.'

This got a response.

'Hear you? How could I miss you? The whole street must have heard.'

'Only if they were lying awake listening.' It was intended as a rebuke, but it was a lame one, especially as we had had complaints from the neighbours, regularly in fact.

'Of course, I was awake listening. How could I sleep after you got me so aroused? How could I sleep with the sound of the pair of you rutting like the world would end tomorrow?'

His hand had abandoned my tit and was now pushing between my thighs, which were still awash from the last load of cum.

'On your back,' he hissed.

'I can't,' I whispered back, 'there's no space to turn.'

'Then I'll have to fuck your ass.'

Some guys are just so romantic.

'OK, but be quick or my husband will wake up.'

'Don't worry, I'll be quick, but that guy won't be awake before noon tomorrow after what's he just done with you.'

He was right – he was quick. It only took him a few strokes to dump and then he was gone with a final romantic remark: 'That'll teach you, bitch.'

He was wrong about my husband, though. He had been awake throughout and turned to me as soon as our bedroom door closed.

'That was fucking hot,' his rank beer breath blew over my face. 'Did it make you wet?'

Of course it did. He knew it would. It made him hard too. Again.

'Try not to make so much noise this time,' I told him as he mounted me, 'I don't want him back again.'