Is there actually a question there?

I throw on shirt and pants without bothering with boxers, slip on my sandals and go knock on Adriana’s door. This time, she answers it naked. My eyes go wide. She smirks, “Why put it on just to take it right back off?” She pulls me inside and shuts the door. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me aggressively with lips and tongue. I kiss her back just as hard and hungrily. I squeeze her full round ass and run my fingers through her long, thick hair.

“Mmmmm, you’re a good kisser,” Adriana purrs. “I’ll have to see what else you do well with that mouth.” I kick off my sandals. She takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom.

“Should I be worried about your husband?” I ask. I don’t feel any guilt at the thought of screwing a married woman—maybe I should, but I don’t—but I do feel a little concern. Getting caught could be very bad for my employment status.

“No,” Adriana says dismissively. She sits down on the bed and lifts the hem of my shirt. “When Paul married me, he was 40 and I was 19. He had a very high sex drive and his first wife had lost interest. He wanted a nympho slut who would fuck him whenever he wanted, and that’s what he got.” With my shirt out of the way, she puts her hands flat on my chest and runs them down to my abs. “Mmmm, nice. Lean and hard.” She leans in to lick one of my nipples. I moan softly.

“When he was 40, he could satisfy me, and I was faithful. The last couple years, not so much.” Adriana suckles my other nipple, then scrapes it with her teeth. I moan louder. “He’s still a good fuck, so he still gets all the pussy he wants at home, but he doesn’t give me enough cock to keep me happy.”

She opens my pants and butterflies them. “Ooooh, commando,” Adriana coos. “Good choice.” Her eyes light up in lustful approval when she pries my dick out of my pants—it’s already long and hard again, so it takes a little effort. She swirls her tongue around my glans and caresses it with her lips. She licks the pre-cum off the tip with a soft hum of pleasure. “You have a beautiful cock, stud. You’re as long and fat and hard and tasty as I’ve ever seen . . . and so fucking ready for me.”

“Thank you,” I say huskily.

Adriana lubricates her hand with my pre-cum to slowly wank my shaft. “If I want to find a big-dicked young stud to make me cum over and over and over—to pound my little whore cunt until I cum screaming—to appreciate the fact that my hot, wet pussy is as tight at 36 as it was at 16—to fill me so full of his hot load that I leak for hours—I don’t think my husband has any right to complain. That’s what he did, after all. I’m happy to fuck him whenever, wherever, however, and as long as I do that, I’m fulfilling my end of the bargain. I’m protected, so what I do with my slutty little pink hole when he isn’t around is my business, not his.”

“So you’re—not worried?” I ask. I complete the sentence with difficulty when Adriana starts sucking on my knob like a lollipop.

She pulls her head off my dick with an audible plop. “I don’t want him to catch me,” she admits calmly. “That’s why I’ve been so frustrated—I haven’t found anyone I could fuck often enough discreetly enough. That’s why I’m so pleased at the thought of having my very own private dick right next door.” Adriana grins at her choice of words, then gives the dick in question another tongue-lashing. “If you know how to use that talented mouth and this big, beautiful fuckmuscle, my problems are solved.”

She lets go of my rod to pull down my pants. She lies back on the bed and nearly does the splits. She reaches down and spreads her big inner lips wide with two fingers. “Eat me, sexy,” Adriana commands. “Eat me out and make me cum all over your face.”