Adam takes Lana from behind

Adam doesn’t lay her down.

He drops Lana on her feet at the edge of the mattress, turns her, and bends her over it with a hand between her shoulder blades. The black dress goes up her back. He kicks her feet apart.

He doesn’t ask if she is ready. He doesn’t look at her face. He shoves his pants down just enough to get his cock out, already hard from the car, and drags the thick head through the wet split of her cunt.

Then he pushes in.

Lana’s mouth opens against the sheet. He is bigger than the memory, or she had lied to herself about the memory. The head forces her open. The shaft keeps coming. He bottoms out in one heavy thrust and stays there, hips flush to her ass, cock buried to the root.

“Fuck—”

He pulls almost out and slams back in. The slap of it is ugly and wet. He takes her like she is a hole he was handed for the night. No rhythm meant for her. Just deep, hard strokes that shove her up the bed and drag her back by the hips.

Mia sits in the chair with her dress around her waist and two fingers in her own cunt. She is soaked from the car, from the dinner, from watching her husband’s cock disappear into his ex. From this angle she can see Lana’s body jerk and the flex of Adam’s ass. She cannot see the thing she came here for.

She gets up.

The bed dips when she climbs onto it beside them. Lana turns her head, eyes wet, mouth open. Mia ignores her face. She puts both hands on Lana’s ass, thumbs in the crease, and spreads her open.

There.

Adam’s cock is shiny with Lana’s wetness, thick enough that Lana’s cunt is stretched white around it. Every thrust shows the shaft dragging out, the lips clinging, then punching back in until his balls tap her clit. Cum-slick heat, no — her cunt is dripping around him, a string of it connecting her rim to the base when he pulls back.

Mia holds her spread and watches the piston of it.

“That’s it,” she says, close enough that Lana can hear every word. “Look at you. Bent over my bed taking my husband’s cock. You missed this. Don’t lie. You sat in that restaurant wet because you wanted him back inside you, and you still needed his wife to say you could have it.”

Lana moans into the sheet. Adam fucks her harder, using the extra wetness, slamming deep.

“You’re being a slut for your married ex,” Mia says. “That’s what this is. You couldn’t just remember it. You needed permission. You needed me sitting here holding you open so I can watch his cock ruin you.”

Lana’s hands fist the duvet. Her thighs start to shake.

“Take it. Let him use you. That thick cock stretching your married-ex cunt while his wife spreads your ass and watches. You agreed for once. This is once. Get fucked.”

Adam drives in to the hilt and grinds. Lana breaks.

She cums with a raw sound, pussy clamping down on him in hard, fluttering pulls. Wetness splatters his thighs. Her legs nearly go. He keeps fucking her through it, chasing his own pace, not hers, until Mia’s voice cuts in.

“Pull out.”

Adam swears and drags his cock free. Lana’s cunt stays open for a second, gaping, dripping onto the edge of the bed. She slumps, shaking.

“On your back,” Mia tells him. “Middle of the bed.”

He drops onto his back. His cock stands up wet, dark at the head, streaked with Lana.

Mia looks at Lana.

“On your knees. Mouth on him. Now.”

Then Mia climbs off the bed, smooths her dress, and goes back to the chair.

Lana gets on her knees between Adam’s thighs, hair in her face, lips already parting for his cock.