Her name was Connie but I always pronounced it “Cunnie” and she knew exactly why. Just looking at her trim body and short dark hair, kinda pixie like, you’d think she was the All-American wife. Not quite.
I’d fuck her several times a week. Might be on lunch break, after work, or on a Saturday when she was supposedly out shopping. Never on Sunday because she always went to church to keep up her image. She never felt like she had any sins that needed forgiveness though.
The way she dressed you’d never realize what a great body she had but when she was riding my dick those firm tits stood out begging for attention. They had tan marks because she’d never bare them in the sun. Too bad.
I had a regular girlfriend for dates and such but she couldn’t compare with Cunnie in bed, possibly because she hadn’t fucked a fraction that the housewife had. This somewhat older married hottie loved to talk about her adventures as we screwed to get me up again. I knew that on Saturday’s I might be getting seconds or even thirds and/or lubing her up for some other guy. Didn’t matter to me. Her pussy was always the finest place to put my dick.
Early on I asked her why she was fucking me since she was married. She grinned as she squeezed my buried bone with her cunt, “Besides feeling so good, I like to tell my husband about it.”
I was surprised by that. “You’re not just cheating on him?”
“Oh no. I tease him with what I’ve been doing and he has to eat your, or whoever’s, cum out of me before he can slide into it. I’ve been doing this so long that he can’t even get it up on Sunday when I don’t fuck anybody else unless I tell him stories. Works for us.”
When I put the idea, hypothetically of course, to my girlfriend she looked aghast. “I could never do that!” I knew she’d been fucking two other guys before we started dating and didn’t drop them for a while. Women and their “image”! Cunnie seemed more honest than most and I admired her for that.
Cunnie and I had been regularly banging for about six months and our friendship had developed along with our sexual compatibility. One Friday she said she had a special request. It seemed that on Sundays, the day she worked at being close to her husband, her stories weren’t enough to get him hard like her adulterously wet pussy did on weekdays. She asked, “Could you come over to our place about two o’clock on Sunday? I’ll be back from church and have dinner ready.”
I accepted and asked, “Anything I can bring?”
She grinned and gripped my wilting dong in her twat, “Just make sure this thing is fully loaded. Don’t use it all up on your girlfriend.”
I chuckled, “It’s her period so I’ll be ready. What’s up?”
“Well, for starters, your pecker in my pussy while my husband watches. He’s hears about and has felt the leftovers of so many of my fucks but it’s now time for him to see what I do with my married cunt.”
Ralphie was half a foot shorter than Cunnie but she’d said his cock was the equal of mine. He served the dinner and brought us some wine afterwards as she cleaned up. Cunnie finally called out, “Time for me to get fucked. Get in here.”