It´s ok - Let the dirty pervert talk !

“Aha sure bitch, whatever…” he mumbled under his breath, hips snapping harder while he used the tight, slick walls of my pussy to stroke himself.

That stupid whore. I can practically smell her ripe fucking eggs from here. That juicy ass is begging for it. I just need to shoot my load deep in that unprotected little cunt.

I felt him get even more excited — thrusts turning faster, rougher, almost frantic. In the dirty, cracked mirror propped in the corner of the room I caught a glimpse of us: my round, 20-year-old butt bouncing with every impact, his big pale belly slapping against me, his face twisted in concentration. It looked like porn. Like good porn. I watched my own body getting railed by this fat, sweaty pervert and — weirdly — it turned me on even more. Like I was watching someone else. Someone hot. Someone wanted. His dick felt long, thick, stretching me in a way my husband never quite managed. Every deep stroke pressed right against that spot in my belly that made my toes curl.

“I’m normally never cheating on my husband, you know,” I slurred into the pillow, trying to soothe the tiny guilty pinch in my chest. “This is really the only time. And… it kinda doesn’t even count as cheating, right? You’re wearing a condom, so you’re not even really touching me… right?”

The words felt reassuring as they came out. Logical. Safe.

He laughed — low and rough.

“Fuck, I’m getting close. Don’t worry, bitch. Violating you with my sperm is just a fantasy of mine. I won’t actually knock up that juicy butt of yours.”

I smiled sleepily against the stained pillowcase.

“Okay darlin’,” I whispered. “You’re the man.”

This whore is so fucking done. How can anyone be this stupid? She wants it. She wants my baby-making cum inside her. Fuck… here it comes now…

Suddenly I felt another rush of warmth bloom deep in my belly — slow, heavy, spreading. My eyes fluttered. Oh wow… am I starting to come? It felt different from usual — thicker, more intense — but really nice. His dick twitched again and again inside me, pulsing like a heartbeat. Each twitch sent another little wave of heat through me. I sighed happily, rocking back just a tiny bit to meet him.

Take it… get knocked up, bitch! Oh yeah!! FUCKKK!!

He kept spurting — long, heavy pulses — flooding deep, forcing his potent seed right up against my cervix while his eyes rolled back and his fingers dug bruises into my hips.

When the twitching finally slowed he just… stopped. Stayed buried for a few seconds, breathing hard, then pulled out with a wet sound.

I blinked, confused. I wanted more.

“Hey… why’d you stop?” I asked, voice small and pouty. “Or… do you need another break on the toilet?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up from the bed.

“I just remembered something,” he said quickly. “Sorry, but this was nice. You have to go now. I’ll call a taxi for you.”

I sat up slowly, head spinning, thighs sticky.

“Wow… that’s… kinda fast,” I said, surprised but not really upset. “Yes okay. A taxi? That’s actually… sort of nice of you.”

He was already pulling on his pants.

“You got my address?” I asked sweetly.

“No. But you can tell the driver yourself.”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you,” I said quickly, suddenly **** for him to have some way to find me again. “I want you to know my address. Just… promise me you won’t come visit or anything, okay? So my husband won’t know.”

“Bitch, I don’t want to visit you at your fucking address,” he snapped. “Now get dressed and hurry up a little. I got something important to do.”

I nodded obediently and started tugging my jeans back up my sticky thighs. Everything felt slippery and warm between my legs, but I just figured that was normal after good sex.

“Okay… and can I have your address? Or your name? Or your number?” My voice cracked a little. “I definitely want to do this again. Like… soon.”

He didn’t even look at me while he zipped up.

“I’ll get in touch with you. I promise. Now get out. You’ll hear from me.”

“Okay,” I said softly, disappointed we hadn’t finished that last round properly. I felt a little sad about it — like we’d been so close to something really special.