The rain hammered against the kitchen window as Sarah pressed her trembling hands against the cool marble countertop, her silk robe clinging to curves that had been neglected far too long. At thirty-two, her body ached with a hunger her husband no longer satisfied – a deep, primal need that had grown insatiable since he moved in six months ago.
Marcus.
Just thinking his name sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs. Her brother-in-law’s presence filled every room now – that intoxicating blend of danger and raw masculinity that made her forget she was supposed to be the perfect suburban wife. She’d watched him, studied him, memorized the way his sweatpants clung to what she knew had to be the thickest, most perfect cock she’d ever imagined.
Tonight was different. Tonight she stopped pretending.
She found him in the living room, sprawled across the leather couch like a predator at rest. The TV flickered with muted colors, but his dark eyes were already locked on her reflection in the screen. He knew. He’d always known.
“Marcus.” Her voice cracked with desperation. “We need to talk.”
His slow smile revealed nothing, but when he stood – when that magnificent bulge strained against his gray sweats – her knees nearly buckled. “About what, Sarah? About how you’ve been walking around here for months, your pussy dripping for me?”
The crude words shouldn’t have thrilled her, but her nipples hardened instantly beneath silk. “This is wrong.”
“Wrong?” He stepped closer, the scent of his skin – cedar and something darker – making her head spin. “Your mouth says wrong, but your body…” His fingers traced her collarbone, lingering on the pulse hammering at her throat. “Your body is screaming for my cock.”
His hands were everywhere suddenly – pushing her robe open, palming her heavy breasts with a reverence that made her gasp. When his thumbs brushed her aching nipples, she cried out, arching shamelessly into his touch.
“Look at these perfect tits,” he groaned, lowering his mouth to suck one dark peak between his lips. “So much better than my fucking dreams.”
She was melting, dissolving into pure sensation as he backed her against the wall. His thigh pressed between hers, rocking against her soaked panties with deliberate friction. When he pulled her hand down to the massive ridge straining his pants, her fingers couldn’t even fully circle him.
“Feel what you do to me,” he growled against her neck, teeth grazing skin that had gone hypersensitive. “Six months of blue balls because of your perfect little pussy.”
Her fingers were already working his waistband, desperate to see, touch, taste what she’d craved. When his cock sprang free – thick and veiny, crowned with pre-cum that made her mouth water – she dropped to her knees without thinking.
“Fuck, Sarah…”
She took him greedily, hollowing her cheeks as she worshipped every inch. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her deeper until she gagged around his thickness. The sound he made – that broken, desperate groan – had fresh arousal gushing from her core.
But he wasn’t letting her stay on her knees. With one fluid movement, he lifted her, carrying her to the ottoman. He pushed her back, spreading her thighs as he knelt between them.
“No condom,” she whimpered, but she was already guiding his bare tip to her entrance. “Please, Marcus. Need to feel you raw – need to feel you come inside me…”
He pushed in slowly, stretching her in delicious ways she’d never experienced. When he bottomed out, his entire length pulsing inside her, they both cried out.
“So fucking tight,” he gritted out, pulling almost completely out before slamming back in. “This married pussy was made for my cock.”
She came hard on that first thrust, but he wasn’t stopping. He took her with punishing strokes, claiming every inch of her as his. When his thumb found her clit, she shattered again, milking him until he groaned her name.
“I’m going to fill you up,” he growled, his rhythm faltering. “Going to make you walk around tomorrow knowing my cum’s still dripping from this perfect little cunt…”
His release triggered another climax, and as he spilled inside her with a guttural roar, Sarah knew she’d crossed every line. Tomorrow she’d be the cheating wife walking funny, carrying her brother-in-law’s seed.
But tonight? Tonight she was exactly where she belonged – impaled on the thick cock that had haunted her dreams, finally complete.
