Frustration Satisfied

He's holding my hips and pumping into me, over and over and over. Then he leans over me and gets one hand around my hps and starts fingering my clit. His other hand is around me higher and he holds one breast, his fingers tweaking my nipple. And he continues to pound into me. This is perfect. I can feel another orgasm rising in me. With each orgasm he has, he takes longer to have the next one. With each orgasm I have it's like I get further into a higher state or something and they start coming sooner and sooner. I keep feeling him moving inside me, filling me. His balls swing forward and hit me each time he bangs into me. I'm noisy again, I can hear myself. His neighbors must know what's going on in here. And who cares. "Fuck me!"

Later we're laying there next to one another. I'm about half onto him again, letting everything leak out of me onto his hip. "It's probably none of my business," he says, "but, if you want to hide us from your husband, how do we keep getting together without being caught?"

"I live upstairs," I tell him. "One flight up from you and a couple doors down the hall. We can both just live our normal lives and come home normally. Never go out together, never be seen together. But spend hours and hours in each others' places doing just what we've been doing." I feel his body, get a hand to his soft and sticky cock. "Maybe if we took a shower together and felt each other a lot as we washed and dried, you might get ready again. And I can get cleaned out, all delicious again. And maybe I can have four or five orgasms before you're finished." He smiled at me and started moving off the bed.