Mrs. Pillsbury at the Grocery Store

Oh, that steady thrusting. The vernal fucking-power of youth. My body gave way to its tireless, limitless need.

And, at last, I felt it: the premonition of my orgasm. It was just a tease at first, but there was no mistaking it, a delightful tingle coming from some unknown place deep within. It needed drawing out. But Sam's deep thrusts drew it out, inexorably, every push and pull inside me teasing, persuading, inducing my response. At last, Sam's insistent, steady thrusts ignited the fuse, and the fuse burned down to its end. Tick tick tick. Sssssst.

And then I exploded.

I don't know how I stayed on top of the trunk of the car, but I suppose the erect shaft of Sam's cock inside my pussy held me there, in place, as the hurricane swept over my body. My feet spasmed in the air, and wetness spritzed from somewhere inside me onto the recently waxed paint job of my Lexus sedan. Weird, inexplicable noises emerged from my mouth as I threw my head back.

I shuddered against Sam, and then I felt him shudder too: his orgasm following mine by seconds, the pulse of his cock rocking inside me. His youthful load warmed my depths.

I clung to him, steadying myself on the car trunk, as our mutual orgasms subsided. We clung to each other like that for a minute or two. Time was hard to measure.

At last, he pulled out of me, and a pleasant milky slurry rushed out of me, streaming down one thigh and spilling onto the trunk of my car. I swelled with a silly MILFy pride to know that I'd made him come such a river.

Some minutes later, I put my hand on Sam's chest, pushed him away, and said, "I've got to get home with my groceries."

I jumped off the trunk and pulled my skirt down.

"I want to see you again," Sam said. "I can bring my friends, too. They all want you."

I wasn't prepared to give a response to that. I kissed his cheek and pulled away from him.

"You know how to reach me."

I got in my car and Sam walked away.

I checked my phone. My husband had sent a text.

"You've taken a long time," he texted.

"I've been a bad wife, again," I texted in reply.

"Come home and tell me all about it, and then I'm going to fuck you really hard," he texted.

"I can't wait," I texted him.