Sloppy seconds

Marcus stood, muscles glistening, the low lamplight casting shadows across his chest. He bent forward, pressed one last kiss to Claire’s neck, and whispered something John couldn’t hear.

She smiled.

And then he was gone.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind him. Silence filled the room — but it wasn’t empty. It was thick. Breathing. Charged.

Claire lay back on the bed, legs still open, her chest rising and falling in slow, heavy waves. Her skin was glowing. Her body loose. Her thighs glistened with a creamy mixture that slowly began to slide from deep inside her.

John didn’t move.

He stood at the edge of the room, still shirtless, pants halfway down, eyes wide and locked on the soft drip between her legs.

Claire followed his gaze. Saw the way his mouth parted. How his eyes darkened with awe. With jealousy. With need.

She smiled lazily, still breathless. “He came a lot.”

John swallowed hard.

She shifted slightly, and a thick drop spilled onto the inside of her thigh.

He groaned.

Claire tilted her head, voice soft and sweet. “You want to kiss me there?”

John nodded.

“Then do it.”

He moved fast — dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he pushed her legs wider and leaned in.

The smell hit him first. Strong. Musky. His mouth watered.

He kissed just above her entrance, lips soft. Then lower.

Claire exhaled sharply, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He kissed again, tongue flicking out, tasting her. Her wetness. His cum. Marcus’s seed.

Claire moaned softly. “Good boy…”

John’s tongue pushed deeper, licking around her folds, then into her. The taste was messy — her and him combined. Raw. Real.

She moaned again, her hips rolling slowly against his face.

“I can feel him inside me still,” she whispered. “All that sperm… right in my womb.”

John groaned against her.

Claire giggled, breathless. “You’re licking it out, aren’t you?”

He moaned again.

She pulled him up suddenly by the hair. “Now fuck me.”

He moved instinctively, kicking off his pants. His cock was already hard again — ****.

He climbed over her, positioned himself quickly, and pushed in.

She was soaked.

He slid inside easily — hot, wet, still stretched.

Claire gasped. “Mmm… it’s still in there…”

John began thrusting — slow, deep strokes, like he was trying to claim some space that wasn’t his.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, whispering into his ear. “You feel that? That warmth? That’s not yours.”

He moaned.

She kissed his cheek. “You’re not the first one in here tonight… you’re just cleaning up.”

His pace quickened.

Claire arched her back. “You feel how wide I am right now? How open?”

John moaned louder.

“He stretched me so much… filled every part of me…”

He groaned, hips bucking.

Claire laughed breathlessly. “You’re trying so hard to keep up.”

He kissed her desperately.

She pulled his lips to her ear. “You’re just helping it stay inside me longer.”

John whimpered.

She clenched around him. “I feel like a real woman now. Like I was made to take him.”

He was panting now, close.

Claire smiled wickedly. “All that cum… dripping inside me… I can feel it trying to go deeper…”

John gasped. “Claire—”

“Do you think I’ll get pregnant?”

He twitched.

“Do you want me to?” she whispered.

“Y-yes…”

“Do you want to be there when I take the test?”

“Yes…”

She grinned. “Maybe I already feel it. A little pinch…”

John was about to cum. His whole body shook.

Claire pushed him back. “Pull out.”

He froze.

“Now.”

He obeyed.

He came seconds later, groaning, shooting over her belly, his whole body trembling.

Claire watched it happen, then smiled and wiped a finger through it.

“Messy.”

John collapsed beside her, panting.

She curled up against him, her head on his chest.

And whispered, “You’re such a good little husband…”