Silence stretched between them—heavy, suffocating. Samantha had stopped speaking, but the words still pulsed in the air like a living thing.
And Renard's cock, now fully hard, twitched against his thigh. A traitorous response.
He should have been furious. Should have shoved her away, screamed, anything. But his body had chosen its side. The same sick fantasies that had drained him last night now flooded back with renewed hunger, fed by her sexual tale.
"Keep talking," he heard himself say, voice rough.
Samantha's eyes widened. She'd expected rage. Tears. Not 'this'. Not the way his fingers dug into the couch cushions, his hips shifting subtly as if to relieve the ache.
A beat passed. Then, with slow deliberation, she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear.
"You want more?" she whispered. "Then listen."
Her hand slid down his chest, lower, until her fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock. He gasped. She didn't know why she was doing this. Was she doing this just to relieve her husband? Or had some primal instinct taken over, letting her surrender to the moment—letting herself get lost in the flow?
"I watched Sofia tremble as I straddled Roy, my hips hovering just above his cock. The way her eyes widened—like she couldn't believe I was taking what she thought was hers—sent a thrill through me. Good. Let her watch.
"You're mine first," I purred, locking eyes with her as I sank down onto him.
Fuck. His thickness stretched me open so slow, so perfectly, my wetness easing the way until he was buried to the hilt. My head tipped back as a gasp tore from my throat—"Ahh! God, you're so deep..."—my pussy fluttering around his hard cock, already addicted to the way he filled me.
I didn't wait. My hips rolled in slow, filthy circles, my ass grinding against his thighs as I took his cock deeper. He was so deep inside me that you possibly couldn't reach ever, but he did with a single thrust of his cock.
Roy groaned, his hands gripping my large boobs roughly, fingers sinking into my soft flesh. The sting of his touch made me moan louder, my nipples hardening under his palms.
I look at Sofia. Her lips were parted, her face flushed. Jealous? Aroused? Both. I smirked, arching my back to make my tits bounce harder as I rode him. [See how good he feels?] I taunted, breathless. [You're missing out.]"
Her thighs clenched together, but she didn't look away."
"Pathetic. Like how you are now. Just listening about your wife getting fucked by someone other than you and getting harder under such situation you truly are pathetic Renard. " She said to Renard but her hand was still wrap around his cock as she stroke him while continue her forbidden sex tale.
"Roy's cock twitched inside me, his grip on my hips tightening as I slammed my soft ass down harder, my slick folds gripping him with every rise and fall. [Nngh—! Fuck, right there...]I whimpered, his tip hitting a spot that made my toes curl. The wet slap of our skin filled the room, my ass jiggling with every thrust.
I could feel him everywhere—stretching me, claiming me. My tits swayed wildly, my nipples aching from his rough hands. "I'm close—don't stop!" I begged, my voice breaking as pleasure coiled tight in my belly."
Renard cock throb in smanthta hand as he was reaching near his climax. Her hand vigorously stroking him.
"Then—release. My body shattered, my pussy clamping around him as I came with a cry, my back arching, my tits bouncing. Roy didn't let up. The second my climax began to fade, he flipped me onto my back, my ass sinking into the mattress as he shoved my legs apart. [W-Wait—! I'm too sensitive—!] I plead.
He didn't care. His cock plunged back into me, deeper this time, his hips slamming against my thighs. [This is your punishment] he growled, sucking hickeys into my neck as he fucked me raw.
I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Every thrust sent sparks through me, my overstimulated cunt gripping him like a vice. [Cum inside—please!] I sobbed, my nails raking down on his back.
But he pulled out last second, painting my stomach in thick, hot streaks. I lay there—ruined—my body trembling, my pussy still pulsing. "
Renard's entire body went limp as his climax ripped through him, his seed spilling over Samantha's fingers in thick pulses. His hips jerked involuntarily—once, twice—before collapsing back against the couch, his chest heaving. For one blissful second, his mind went completely blank, the pleasure so intense it bordered on painful.
Across from him, Samantha stared at her sticky hand with detached curiosity. Roy's cock had felt exactly like this moments after she'd drained him—spent, softening, still twitching with residual pleasure. The parallel should have disgusted her. Instead, she felt... nothing. No guilt. No satisfaction. Just the cool realization that some primal instinct had taken over, guiding her hands with clinical precision to wring this reaction from her husband.
"I need to wash up again" she muttered, rising abruptly.
Renard didn't move. His softening cock lay against his thigh, glistening under the dim light. Shame curdled in his gut—not just for coming to his wife's confession, but for how desperately he'd wanted every filthy detail. The way Roy had stretched her. The sounds she'd made. The exact moment she'd begged another man to fill her.
His fingers dug into his thighs until crescent marks appeared. He should feel rage. Betrayal. Anything but this lingering arousal coiling low in his belly at the memory of Samantha's storytelling voice gone husky with remembered pleasure.
In the bathroom, Samantha scrubbed her hands under scalding water. The mirror reflected a stranger—pupils blown wide, lips swollen from where she'd bitten them during Renard's climax. Why had she done it? Relief? Punishment? Some twisted attempt to bridge the chasm between them with the only language they had left—sex and shame?
Her reflection had no answers.
Back in the living room, Renard remained frozen on the couch. Two conflicting truths warred in his chest:
He should hate her for what she'd done with Roy. He'd never been harder in his life.
The second truth sickened him more than the first.