"I can't … hold back much longer …"

As their pace increased, John bent his head down and caught her nipple between his lips. Judith moaned softly. "Your so tight," John murmured against her breast. His grip on her hips tightened, and a few thrusts later he let out a moan that rivalled a pleased growl. "I can't … hold back much longer …" Judith's stomach had already began to tighten with the familiar feeling.

She whispered, "Do it, then. Come deep inside me … please." John was fucking her, the British house wife in her own house. There was something about the whole situation that made Judith feel extremely sexy and feminine. He pulled her down hard one more time, her ass slapping his thighs, and then he began to come in pulsating spurts that warmed Judith from the inside out.

He found her mouth just as she exploded, moans getting lost in their kisses. As John gradually came back to earth he thought about how they must look. A naked cleaner and Judith, the British housewife. They could easy pass for a pair of sex-starved teenagers. They had had extremely hot sex. They were adults who knew full well what they were doing—even if lust did had the amazing ability to make common sense disappear.

Her husband was the man who wrote out his paycheques. Judith’s man was his boss. If her husband ever found out about this, John was a dead man. The woman in his arms stiffened before removing herself from him completely. Immediately he missed being inside her. "Well," she said, "That was interesting. I'll take a shower." She turned on her heel and was opening the door.