1. Latin Inferno - The Finale


    Date: 9/22/2017, Categories: Cuckold, Author: TheTravellingMan, Source: LushStories

    We had been fucking each other for weeks now, and each time it followed a familiar pattern. Slyvie would dress up for me; she knew now of my predilection for expensive lingerie. She exploited it without compunction and I would be hard as soon as she revealed herself. Our first coupling would always be frantic, two people needing release from their deep frustration. Having her bent over on all fours was my favourite, looking back at me with that coquettish look and the sight of her bare sex glistening was always too much. Impaling her, the enveloping tightness and heat of her cunt soon led to a frenzied fucking and a copious load of cum inside her. The chance of enjoying the warm glow of any refractory period was always denied to me. She was always insatiable and sought to revive my cock in a multitude of ways. Words, her soft mouth, a sensual grasp of my flaccid cock, I would always respond. She would have me ready again soon enough and we would fuck with the same passion until we both came hard again, breathless and sweating. She would drain all my energy to sate her until we were both physically exhausted and we would declare an uneasy truce – until next time. We fucked everywhere imaginable, her place, mine, in my car, even in a field, unable to hold back our desire for each other. Sometimes we fucked in the presence of her passive husband, sometimes alone to send her packing with both her holes brimming with my seed. His attentiveness to my cock had not waned; it drove ...
    her wild and left us both in a state that would result in us having to abstain for a few days. We’d even fucked in the changing room of a very respectable ladies boutique on the High Street. One time, sucking me off in the toilets of a local wine bar and then making me cum all over the gusset of her delicate lace knickers. Wearing them to savour the warm damp of my cum all over her cunt, she’d tease me with words and a flash of her cleavage. She knew I would be raging hard for more, helpless to give it to her and I always did. When we were not together, there were dirty text messages, provocative selfies and her ideas for our next union. She would call and I would lewdly talk her through an intense masturbatory orgasm. It all served to enflame us both for our next encounter. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her and drunk on the intoxication of it all. In the times we were able to maintain our composure and keep our clothes on, she was witty and engaging. Her worldliness, wisdom and charm made her absorbing company. It was easy to forget she was a married woman, easy to forget when we were in public; her ring finger exhibited her status and mine too. We did not care much for that, we left it for others to ponder or discover for themselves. Occasionally Slyvie’s overtness would leave no room for doubt at all. One time as we sat in a bar sipping on glasses of wine, we were smug in the knowledge that her sex was devoid of underwear and she was full of my spunk. Her visage of ...
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