THE WHORE WIFE
Laci Chambers
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 Laci Chambers
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There was some irony in this, Sarah thought to herself. While she was sure most women spent a part of their first wedding anniversary down on their knees, it was probably their husbands enjoying the attention, not their sinfully sexy neighbour from down the street.
“Oh yeah, fuck, you give the best head…”
Sarah focused on the cock in her mouth as Harry moaned his appreciation. Her panties were growing damper by the minute and her breasts longed to be freed of her top. She knew she should feel guilty about betraying her husband James, especially on today of all days, but she couldn’t help herself. Whilst she loved James, Harry made her feel things James never had; his rough hands and seductive looks a stark contrast to James’s loving caresses and worshipping gaze.
The sting of Harry tugging on a handful of her long hair brought her mind back to the present, the pain putting a delicious edge on her growing arousal. “Concentrate,” he growled. “Suck it like you mean it.”
Doubling her efforts, Sarah continued to pleasure Harry, taking him as far into her mouth as she could, eager to satisfy him. It would be her turn next and she knew the better she performed now, the harder Harry would fuck her later.
A sudden sound caught her attention and she stood abruptly, listening intently. Harry, approaching his pinnacle, swore under his breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Quiet,” she murmured, straining to hear. Harry smirked and got up from the bed, reaching around her to clasp the firm roundness of her ass. “Since when do I take orders from you?”
Deciding she was hearing things, Sarah returned his grin. “Since you learned what a good time I could give you,” she replied, squealing as he gave her ass a slap. He captured her mouth in a scorching kiss, his rock hard length grinding against her pelvis, her top rasping over her hard nipples–
“Sarah?!”
She leapt back at the sound of James’s voice. He stood in the doorway, his face a picture of shock, a bouquet of roses in his hands. For a moment, no one said anything; then Harry snickered. “I thought you said he was at work today?”
James turned to look at him, confusion mixing with his shock. “Who are you?”
“I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present,” Harry jeered as Sarah snatched the sheet up off the bed and held it over her near naked form. “Shut up Harry,” she hissed. “James, what are you doing home at this time?”
“I finished work early so we could spend our anniversary together,” he said. Harry barked out a laugh as he pulled on his pants.
“Anniversary? You are one cold-hearted bitch.” He held his hands up as Sarah glared at him. “Whatever, I’m out of here.”