Dirty Heat

by Cairo

  And he will.

  • • •

  Wearing nothing but a pair of black stilettos—heels my own husband hasn’t seen me in, desire swells through me as Kyree’s gaze glides over my shimmering body, then clings to my hand as I spread my legs slightly and dip it in between my thighs.

  Kyree is sprawled out in the center of the bed, his plump semi-erect dick lying to one side over his thigh.

  “Damn,” he whispers. “I bet you’re so wet.”

  I moan. “I am. Real wet.” My breath catches as I lightly brush over my clit with my fingertips. There’s a slow ache pooling in my cunt, a burning need to have him see me spread open to him—for his throbbing cock, my wet, juicy offering to him.

  “You teasing me. I want that pussy. Now.”

  “What do you wanna do with this pussy?” I spread my legs wider, open my slick, pouty lips, revealing my pink, wet insides. “Fuck it?”

  Slowly sinking two fingers between my lips, I gasp.

  He grabs his dick, strokes it in his fist. “Yeah,” he rasps. “I wanna fuck it.”

  I lick my lips. Watch his manhood come alive. “Mmm. Ooh, yes.” My fingers plunge in and out of my warmth. “What else you wanna do to this wet pussy?”

  “Lick it.” He tightens his grip on his dick. “I wanna taste you, baby. Fuck you with my tongue.”

  My eyes flicker over into his as my finger lightly grazes my clit. A tremor ripples through me. He watches as I lift my finger to my mouth and slip it inside, tasting myself, savoring my warm, wet, sticky juices.

  “Damn.” Kyree crooks his finger at me, motioning me over to the bed. “C’mere. Let me taste it.”

  I feel so liberated. Feel so empowered. Feel so alive. Every nerve ending in my body is ablaze. And it’s all because of Kyree. He does this to me. Makes the cream in my cunt churn for him.

  I moan. “Mmm. Your wish is my command.”

  I crawl up on the bed. Squat down low over his face, and allow him to behold my glistening sex before clamping my knees on either side of his head. His heated breath kisses my pussy lips, and then he sticks his long tongue out, curling it up, then down, then up again in slow, sensual motion. He tells me how pretty my kitty is and how he loves its taste before burying his tongue between my slick folds.

  Oooh, yes, yes, yes! My heart flutters, as my pussy grows wetter with each lick. His tongue works me into a mindless frenzy, sending me hurtling toward the edge of one of the sweetest climaxes.

  His thick, banana-curved cock bounces. It beckons me to taste it. To make love to it with my mouth, lips, tongue and hands. The tip glistens with precum. Oh, God! I feel a terrible yearning to suckle the head of his dick. I lick my lips. Reach for it. Lean in to lick it. Take it deep into my wet, greedy mouth. But Kyree catches my wrist, and stops me. He wants me to look. Not touch. He wants to torture me.

  I reach for it, again.

  “No,” he mutters against my burning flesh, “watch.”

  I swallow back hunger and want, eyeing his nectar as it drizzles out of his piss slit like melting donut glaze. He reaches for his dick. Shakes it. Strokes it. Strings of precum streak across his stomach.

  I groan my displeasure, but my disappointment is quickly replaced with an overwhelming sensation that pulses through me as his tongue sweeps over my clit, then circles around my cunt. When his sticky tongue goes from my pussy to my asshole, my whole body shakes with unexpected pleasure. My knees almost give out.

  “Oh, God!” I cry out. “Yes, baby, yes…oohhh!”

  Kyree masturbates, his rhythm matching the strokes of his tongue over my pussy, over my clit, then inside my slit. My mind buzzes, wondering where the hell someone his age mastered the art of cunnilingus.

  He licks again, long and hard, right over my clit, then against my cum-soaked hole.

  Dear God…

  “Aaaaah, yes, baby, yes…”

  He pushes a finger into my ass.

  Sweet holy Jesus…

  My cunt goes into spasms. I buck and writhe, wanting more of his tongue, more of his finger. He strokes his dick with rapid speed, groans into the slit of my pussy. Then comes all over his hand, his dick pumping out waves of hot cream.

  Instinctively, I lean forward and greedily lap at his hand, sweeping my tongue all over his fingers. Mmmm. Wanting those wicked fingers. Wanting every creamy drop of him. I squeeze my eyes shut as heat surges through my veins. Then come all over his face.

  Heart racing, I flop over onto the bed, turning onto my side and facing him. I prop myself up on one arm. His lips are glossy from my sweet juices. “Boy, where’d you learn to perform oral sex like that?”

  He grins. “Books. Porn. And lots of practice.” He wiggles his brows up and down. “And I’m not a boy, babe. I’m all man. Or do I need to remind you?”

  I lean over and kiss him on the lips, tasting myself on him. Mmm. I swipe my tongue over his top lip, then suck his bottom lip into my mouth.

  His warm hands roam over my body as I crawl up on top of him. Slide my hot pussy up and down over his dick. I am always impressed at how quickly his dick springs back to life. When I have him slick with my juices, I reach beneath me and take him deep into my cunt.

  I slowly work him inside of me in a slow steady rhythm, swiveling my hips around and around, bringing my plump ass up high every time I rotate up his shaft, to the top of his dick, the head slowly peeking out from between my luscious folds before slipping back in, wetting him, keeping him slick.

  Kyree moans loudly. “Aaah, shit. Mmmhmmm…damn, baby…”

  I lean forward, my pussy quivering and tingling. “You wanted a woman,” I say, sliding my tongue into his ear, “you got it. Now remind me, again”—I slam down on his dick, taking him deeper, pushing him into a wet river of pleasure, fueling the fires of his lust, and my own—“how much of a man you are.”

  Kyree grabs my hips, flips me over, pulls my legs up over his shoulders, and responds with a low growl, then begins to coat the walls of my pussy with warm semen.

  • • •

  Several days later, I’m curled up on the sofa reading Allison Hobbs’ latest novel with a glass of white wine, unwinding from my day while Sebastian’s upstairs taking a shower. We spent the early part of our Sunday working in the yard, before driving into the city for a bite to eat at Taramind Tribeca, an Indian restaurant with towering windows and Brazilian teak located in the heart of Tribeca. I really enjoy my husband’s company, so spending the day out with him was a nice treat. I even surprised myself, and him, when I leaned over in his lap, unfastened his jeans, then fished out his dick and sucked him deep into my wet mouth. He was so taken aback by my brazenness that he’d climaxed within minutes, coating the back of my throat and filling my mouth with his thick seeds.

  “Damn, baby,” he said breathlessly. “Whatever you’re reading in those nasty books, please keep reading it.” He took his eyes off the road, and grinned. “I love this new nasty you.”

  I said, “Me, too.” Then slid my tongue over my teeth for any remnants of his man milk, and settled back in my seat, fastening my seatbelt, smiling inside.

  It was a nice way to end not only the evening, but the weekend as well.

  Now all I want to do is read a few chapters of this book, then crawl into bed and lie in my husband’s arms until sleep claims me.

  Ping. An incoming text. I reach for my phone. Swipe my finger across the screen. And open the message. I want u tonight

  I smile, staring at the message. Slowly, my insides come alive.

  Mmm. I want you too, I type back.

  A minute later: I wanna tongue u

  My walls clench.

  I want u sooo bad u just dnt kno baby. Sneak out?

  Heat sweeps through me. I swallow hard, glancing over at the crystal clock on the end table. It’s a little after ten p.m.

  My shaky fingers itch to type back to tell him yes. But I stop myself. The rational part of my brain screams for me not to do it. This thing between us has gotten out of h
and. It has me lying to my husband. Has me pretending to be someone I no longer am.

  Faithful.

  Trustworthy.

  Grounded.

  Worthy.

  Of my life with Sebastian.

  Deserving.

  Of his love.

  Yet…

  In a matter of one heated text message—I wanna tongue u—my pussy aches and pulses, and I am contemplating defying every logical reason as to why I should turn off my cell and ignore Kyree’s texts. I am literally sifting through a laundry list of rationalizations as to why I shouldn’t hop in the shower, then crawl into bed with my husband, where I belong. There is no need for me to sneak out to be with anyone else when all the hard dick I need is right upstairs waiting on me.

  But the moment I climb the stairs, step into my bathroom, squeeze a dollop of Dial Coconut Water Refreshing Mango body wash onto a rag, then run it under warm water, I am aware of my decision, certain of my destination. I slip into a short skirt and tank top. Slide my feet into a pair of sandals. Then clip my hair in a haphazard twist that leaves skeins of highlighted tresses caressing the sides of my face.

  Let’s meet, I quickly text.

  Less than a minute later, Kyree texts back. Fuck U outdoors?

  My mouth waters as I read the text. Yes, I type back. Where?

  A few moments later, my cell pings. Eagle rock?

  Mygod! He wants to fuck me in a park! Eagle Rock Reservation is a wooded, red oak forest laced with paths and hiking trails. Perfect for in-the-middle-of-the-night fucking.

  See u in 20mins, I type before tossing my cell inside my bag.

  With keys in hand, I find Sebastian sitting in the den watching the sports channel. I lean in and kiss him on the lips. Tell him I’m running out to the store. For milk. Then head out the door.

  It takes me less than fifteen minutes to get to Eagle Rock. Kyree is already here, waiting along a secluded trail, smiling.

  Tonight, I’m not a wife. A mother. A homemaker.

  I’m a dick-crazed tramp.

  A greedy cougar whore.

  A cum-slut.

  A filthy cradle-robber.

  For Kyree’s dick. Young and hard and curved. And so very good.

  He locks eyes with me, his dick hanging out over the waistband of his sweats, already in his hand. He jerks it.

  There’s a strong demanding need pounding through my body as I watch him watching me. Kyree with his young, hard dick has done this to me. I reach up and release my hair from the ponytail, shaking my hair out. I warn him, “I’m wet. I’m horny. And ready. So fuck me fast. I only have twenty minutes.”

  He licks his lips when I reach under my skirt and shimmy out of my red lace panties. “Damn, baby.”

  My eyes alight with desire, I toss my panties at him and match his lusty gaze when he catches them. “Fuck me now,” I urge, my voice hoarse and heated and full of lust.

  There’s no time for dick sucking.

  No time for pussy licking.

  Just fucking.

  Quick. Hard. Raw. Animalistic.

  I bend over, and grab my ankles.

  “Damn, you gotta phat ass,” Kyree says, stepping up behind me, smoothing his hand over my cheeks.

  “Slap my ass,” I say over my shoulder. “Then ram your dick up in me.”

  “Aww, shit.” He laughs. “You wanna talk smack, I see.”

  “Yeah. Now less talk, and more action, little daddy,” I say real sassy as I shake my hips and cause my ass cheeks to clap.

  My insides quiver anticipating him sinking his dick between my wet pussy lips, but Kyree wants to tease me instead, tracing his dick along my slick slit.

  “C’mon. Fuck me.”

  Slap!

  His hand strikes my ass, hard.

  “Again.”

  Slap!

  This goes on for five or six pussy-dripping minutes before my knees feel like they’re about to buckle. And then he finally gives me what my pussy yearns. I yelp when he plunges inside me, harshly, sliding all the way in until his balls are smacking the back of my pussy.

  “Oh, yes!” I gasp as I lurch back toward him, my plump ass cheeks crashing against his pelvis. “Take this pussy, Kyree, baby…mmmm…oooh…that young dick is so gooood.”

  Kyree groans loudly, grinding his hips against me, before pulling out, then slamming back in over and over again.

  I reach between my legs, skidding my fingers over my puffy clit. It’s so engorged and sensitive.

  He slaps my ass again. And every time his hand heats my flesh, I buck back harder, faster, greedily sucking in his dick. Kyree catches me by surprise, slapping into a newfound sweet spot—the underside of my ass. He slaps his hand upward, making my ass shake as he rams his dick in and out, burying himself deep inside me.

  Each thrust, each slap, pushes me closer to orgasm.

  Sparks of pleasure shoot through me, causing my pulse to pound in my cunt and my blood to heat in my veins.

  Ohgod, ohgod…this man-child, this young stud and…his dick… oooh. He is everything I shouldn’t want and everything I know I don’t need, and yet right at this moment—open and wet, my body hot and needy, while being fucked outside in the woods in the middle of the night—there’s no denying that he is my sweetest taboo.

  Kyree grunts. “You like this dick…?”

  “Yes, God, yesssss.”

  Three more deep strokes, my body clenches tight around him. I melt with pleasure. Then, with the stars twinkling overhead and the New York City skyline in view—my orgasm bursts through me.

  I mewl out.

  And spasm.

  A half-hour later, I walk back through the front door. Sebastian is sitting in the kitchen, the New York Times in his hands, folded in sections. He looks up from the paper, then narrows his eyes, searching, studying me. Right now, I can only imagine what he sees. Hair disarrayed. Face flushed. Lips glazed. Clothes askew. Ohgod, I must look a mess. I immediately feel self-conscious and start to wonder if he can smell my soaking sex. Paranoia starts to set in, and I question if he senses my indiscretions?

  He frowns.

  Ohgod!

  Subconsciously, I touch the side of my neck. My fingertips absorb the subtle heat still radiating from my skin. I swallow. I can still feel Kyree’s soft lips skimming over my flesh. His fingers slipping down my crack, sweeping my asshole, then slowly moving lower until he grazes my deliciously wet sex; his fingertip teasing my slit. I swallow again. Slide my tongue over my teeth. Then swallow the lingering taste of Kyree’s sweet man meat.

  Sebastian’s voice slices through my dirty thoughts. “Baby, you all right?”

  I blink. “Huh?”

  “I said your face looks flush.”

  “Oh, uh…didn’t hear you.” I feel my forehead. “I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary, except go to the store.” Yeah, and get fucked outdoors.

  He chuckles. “Well, you’re practically glowing.”

  I push out a nervous laugh. “Must be the new face cream I’ve been using.”

  He smiles and folds the paper as he rises from his seat. “Well, keep doing what you’re doing, baby.”

  You don’t really mean that.

  He pushes his chair in. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

  Ohgod. Help me. He walks up on me and pulls me into him, brushing a gentle kiss over my lips. “Wait,” he says, then pauses. “I thought you said you were going to the store.”

  “Uh?”

  He repeats himself.

  “Oh, I did,” I quickly lie. “They didn’t have what I needed.”

  “I thought you wanted milk.”

  Mmm. Yes, Kyree’s sweet, thick dick milk.

  I quickly sidestep him, avoiding his gaze skimming over me. “Yeah, I wanted buttermilk for this new recipe I want to try.” I walk over to the sink and run the water. “But they were all out.”

  I consider saying more, but then decide otherwise. Less is sometimes best, especially when you know it�
�s going to be a lie added onto another lie.

  Sebastian eyes me, then slowly raises a brow.

  “What?” I ask, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

  “So are you going to tell me, or keep me in suspense?”

  My pulse quickens. “Tell you what?”

  He smiles. “What’s this new recipe that had you rushing up outta here for buttermilk?”

  Guilt swirls around me. I want to turn away from his gaze. Want to confess my dirty sins and beg for his forgiveness. But I don’t. Instead, I straighten my shoulders, and swallow, before forcing a small smile to touch my lips. “It’s a surprise.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He reaches for me. Pulls me into him by the waist. “Speaking of surprises.” He leans in and pecks me on the lips. The kiss is quick, but ever so sweet. “Meet me upstairs. I’ll have one waiting for you.”

  His smile teases. And when he steps back, I can’t help but glance down at the bulge in his pajama bottoms. No other words are needed. I smile back at him.

  Then pray to the high heavens that my still-throbbing cunt can handle another pounding.

  • • •

  It’s a little after ten o’clock in the evening, three days later. And, once again, like a schoolgirl with raging hormones, I’ve snuck out to be with Kyree—this time under the guise of needing to pick up a friend from the airport. Sebastian asks no questions; he allows me the freedom to do whatever I need to do. Besides, I left him home, smiling, after sucking his dick down to the gristle. I gave my husband the best blowjob of his life, unprompted, unsuspected, unwavering. I took Sebastian by surprise. Something I don’t do often when it comes to giving him head. Performing oral sex on my husband has never been an issue for me. I suck him without pause. It’s simply not an act performed as often as he’d like. But since being with Kyree, I’ve become surprisingly more spontaneous when it comes to pleasing him orally.

  Sebastian says he loves this new orgasmic me.

  I tell him I love this new me, too.

  He’s asked me again, what’s gotten into me. Of course I dare not tell him that it’s the result of being fucked by a young, horny college stud. So I show him a few erotica books I’ve since bought, and allow him to believe that they’ve awakened this sexual beast inside of me.