Sleepless in our penthouse suite, bay views shimmering under moonlight. Husband snores. My pussy drips, soaking silk sheets. I slip nude to the marble terrace. Hot, humid air kisses skin. Italian leather lounger cradles me. Veronica’s confession echoes—outdoor pleasure. Finger traces thighs, parts slick lips. My cunt’s musk fills the night. Imagine her cross-legged, eyes devouring. Wettest ever. Fingering wildly, I squirt, puddle forms below. Not just cum—piss mixes. Hand to nose, pungent. Fingers to mouth. Insane arousal. Pissing while rubbing, climax picturing her lapping my stream.
Dawn hides traces. Weekend traps me home. Phone rings—her. Paul travels; invites lunch tomorrow. Heart races. Husband agrees after fibs. Call back: “We’re coming.” Her laugh: “De la frustration naît le plaisir.” Blush burns.
The Privilege
Prep like teen. Sheer dress hugs small tits, back bare—no bra. Ditch panties, risk it. Heels click marble floors. Jean eyes me hungrily.
Villa driveway: Veronica on terrace, white button dress translucent in backlight. Tanned thighs peek. Jean mutters her perfection. I pout.
Paul joins, ti-punch flows—aged rum, lime zest on crystal. Planter for us, potent. Lounge table, legs cross-uncross, her nipples tent fabric. Kitchen excuse: “Gorgeous today.” Blush. “Our chat unfinished.” Heat pools. Confess: came wearing her panties. She hikes skirt—bush trimmed, crotch damp. Kneels, slides hers up my thighs. Wet gusset kisses clit. Instant orgasm. Legs buckle, grip shoulders. “Keep till tonight.”
Table resumes. Her smirk taunts. Foot to ankle, calf, knee. Thighs part. Toe finds clit—swells. She squirms, breaths hitch. Men debate politics, oblivious. She bolts—wet spot blooms on dress.
Follow to hall. Toilet door ajar. Her on seat, fingers buried, eyes rolled. “Beautiful.” Orgasm hits. Kiss eternal, soft.
The Excess
“Need to pee.” Golden stream arcs, natural. “Let me wipe.” Paper tears—fingers graze soaked folds. Lick discreetly. Salty-sweet.
Back to rosé, eyes sparkle. Farewell: slip off soaked panties into her palm. “My trophy for your trip.” Kiss near lips. “Naughty girl. Call soon.”
Phone sex two days later. Her voice husky: spanking fantasy obsesses. Mini-shorts, lace red thong, soaked pad. Alone. “Obey me.”
Pinch nipples through blouse. Finger slit slow—no cum. “Little slut, sniff your towel.” Ripped, gluey, rank. Circle clit, finger fuck deep. Bite ear imagined. Begs: taste my piss, cum.
Legs spread wide. Panties off—lips part, sticky. Nose to slit. Tongue spreads, laps nectar. Golden shower fills mouth, drenches tits. “Cum now, bitch!” Simultaneous waves crash.
“Falling for you,” she gasps. Tender words linger. Three days till return. Crave more.
