The Best Game - Cover

The Best Game

by starrkers

2007

Erotica Sex Story: He seeks out women, but not any women - only the ones wearing wedding bands and looking bored. And then he relieves their boredom.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Cheating   .

Janey was taking a break from her shopping when she first saw him. He was tall, dark and handsome, of course, why else would she have noticed? She was sitting at a sidewalk table of the local cafe, deciding where next to spend Arnold's hard earned cash when he sat at the next table, perfect jeans moulded to his perfect arse, eyes tantalisingly hidden behind dark glasses, oozing confidence.

It didn't take long for him to notice her. Hell, she knew she still had it. She hadn't let herself go like so many did after they caught a man. She liked to tease the ones that had missed getting her, so she kept herself trim, dressed for effect and made sure her assets were on show. And Arnold loved that he had a damn fine looking woman on his arm when they went somewhere.

Pity Arnold didn't have the same attitude to his own physique. He'd gotten more than pudgy over the years and let his dress sense slide too. Janey loved her man, without question, but sometimes it was a real effort to get excited about bed games with him. A little harmless fantasy didn't go astray, and this fellow cafe patron was ideal for a leading role in her next one.

So she studied him extensively from behind her own dark glasses, sipping her coffee as she memorised every visible inch of the man before her.

Suddenly he turned straight to her, removing the glasses and smiling at her, a smile to make her melt. "Excuse me, miss, but you look lonely there. May I join you?" His voice was deep, mesmerising, sexy.

Afterwards, she would never be able to explain why she had said yes. Or what she had talked to him about for an hour or why she had followed him to his car — a red convertible, of course. It suited him perfectly. It was flashy, luxurious, sexy.

Nor could she explain why she had willingly, no, more than that — eagerly allowed him access to those places only her husband should know. But she could tell you it was the best sex she had ever had.

He had driven to a quiet, remote picnic area, taken a rug from the back seat, laying it on the ground before removing her dress and bra, locking his mouth over hers, forcing his knee between her thighs, pushing her down on her back. Almost magically he had lost his clothes, the shirt and jeans appearing neatly on top of her dress, without him breaking contact with her mouth. His hands were rubbing her through her knickers, sliding across the sodden material before dragging them off and shoving his thick cock into her aching wet pussy, filling her, stretching her, fucking her far deeper than Arnold could. She moaned and cried, raking her fingernails across his back as he thrust hard into her before withdrawing totally, leaving her empty, yearning for the feel of his cock inside her.

He grabbed her ankles, putting them over his shoulders and held her down, his hands pushing her shoulders into the rug and then slammed his cock back into her as deep as he could go. She tried to buck under him, but he held her still, driving her wild as he plundered her, bringing her to a climax so strong she screamed, the world going blank as she thrashed under him.

Abruptly he pulled out of her, his balls tight, his cock pulsing as it spurted across her belly and onto her face. Then he stood and began dressing.

 
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