The cheater’s due

Your eyes go wide with surprise and your heart hammers in your chest. No wonder you recognized the car, it's your good friend Narumi's Miata. You met her in college, a cute, spunky half-japanese girl with a pink streak in her hair and a party animal side.

You haven't talked to Narumi in months, but she's currently bent over the back of your leather couch. She's wearing a schoolgirl costume with her skirt up over her ass and your husband is holding onto her hips as he pounds her steadily from behind. She rocks her hips back against him and looks over her arched back, gyrating her ass like a pro. The slap-slap-slap of their flesh colliding is loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Ohhhh Mr. Chance," she moans. "I promise to get better grades if you make me cum. I'm sooo close. Ahhhh!"

She lowers her head as your husband doubles his efforts, sawing his cock in and out of her trimmed twat with such violence it seems he might fuck her over the back of the couch. You're not sticking around to watch that happen.

Shaking with anger, you walk out the back door, never intending to return to the house. No, you'll be back for your things. He can keep the house and the stupid mortgage. God, you need a drink. There's a sleazy bar not far away.

You screech into the lot and sit down at a stool. Every scumbag in the joint is eyeballing you and you don't give a shit.

After your second gin and tonic a decently good-looking guy offers to buy you another. You look at him for about and tell him to fuck off. You're not in the mood to deal with another horny man tonight. On your fourth gin your mind drifts back to your encounter with Donna. You feel warm all over from the booze, but the heat grows between your legs as you remember the way she dominated you and told you how to lick her pussy. She said you would continue your education with her on Monday, but you don't want to wait.

You need someone tonight.