Sweat still clings under my red wrap dress. Dim hallway light flickers. Heart pounds from the walk, those club memories burning my pussy. Husband waits upstairs. Fuck it. I text that messaging guy—turns out he’s the shy neighbor two doors down. Door creaks open. His eyes widen at my curves, gray waves framing my smirking blue eyes. ‘Patricia?’ he whispers. I nod, step close. His breath quickens. Hand brushes my thigh. ‘Now?’ I murmur. He pulls me into the shadowed corner by the laundry door. Risk hits hard—footsteps echo from above. Neighbors sleeping. One wrong noise…
Fingers yank my dress aside. String snaps free. My slick folds exposed, clit throbbing from morning shower pinch. He drops pants. Cock springs out, veiny, hard. Reminds me of that club watcher. I grip it, stroke rough. ‘Shh,’ I hiss. He nods, eyes wild. Presses me against cold wall. Tiles chill my ass. I hike one leg. Pussy lips part, hungry. His tip nudges. Wet squelch as he thrusts in. Deep. Raw. I bite my lip—blood taste. Muffled grunt escapes him. Floorboards creak under our shift. Light slits under doors, shadows dance. Someone coughs upstairs. Freeze. Hearts hammer. Then harder pumps. Slap-slap wet. My small tits bounce, nipples pinched tight through lace bra. ‘Fuck me quiet,’ I breathe. He grunts, balls slap my ass. Fingers dig clit, circle furious. Memories flash: cum-splashed skin, stranger’s load. Heat coils low. Belly tightens.
The Contact
Tension snaps. I clench around him, juices flood. Silent scream rips my throat. He pulls out, spurts hot ropes on my thighs, dress hem. Sticky warmth drips. We pant, eyes locked. Quick wipe with his handkerchief. ‘Go,’ he whispers. I straighten dress, string ruined. Slip out. Hallway empty. Stairs creak under my heels. Heart thuds loud. Pass Mrs. Laurent’s door—light filters through. Does she hear? Husband’s voice drifts from our floor. ‘Patricia?’ Door clicks shut behind me. Secret safe. Pussy aches, full of thrill. Lover’s text buzzes: ‘Carpe diem.’ I smile. Next time?