60. Wife's POV

I watched Ray's back as he walked away, a slightly confused expression settling on my face.

What did he mean by that?

After talking about all that glow and how much better I seemed, that last sentence had thrown me off a little. A glow that comes from somewhere harder to explain? What was that supposed to mean?

A strange little tension fluttered inside me.

Ray... what kind of person are you?

To be honest, I still didn't quite understand him.

I mean, this neighborhood sure has a dull energy. If I had to describe my first impression in one word, it would have been disappointment. It was nothing like what I'd imagined. Still, I had hoped that at least the people would be decent.

Little did I know how different the people here would be from anyone I'd ever known.

It felt like everyone was driven by lust and desperation. I mean, everyone has desires, that's only natural, but these people seemed to have no real sense of morality. Words like boundaries seemed to mean nothing to them. And as shameful as it was to admit, I had fallen prey to that same lust too.

That was why finding someone like Ray in a place like this felt so unexpected. He was thoughtful, sensible, and seemed to understand the importance of boundaries. In a neighborhood that felt so morally murky, he stood out like a clean stone in a muddy stream. He had been one of the most decent people we'd met in this neighborhood so far. Even my husband seemed to like him and feel comfortable around him.

And during the burglary, when the two of us had been inside the closet, Ray could have taken advantage of me like the other bastards had. But he didn't. He had helped us instead.

That alone told me he wasn't like the others. He knows his boundaries, and he knows how to respect them.

Apart from that, we'd only had a handful of interactions. There was that dinner at his house, though I barely remembered much about that day except how huge the place was and how uniquely it was designed. And then there was that strange moment when I had looked at myself in the mirror. Even now, I was sure that had just been my own mind playing tricks on me, but it had still been a strangely intense moment.

Then there had been the dance.

And that was pretty much it.

So what is this weird feeling?

I shook my head.

Maybe I was simply overthinking a few harmless words. Ray had probably meant nothing more than what he'd said.

Whatever.

I gave a small shrug and finally turned away from the door.

I got back to my daily rounds, keeping myself busy with the little things around the house. Later in the afternoon, I stepped outside to water the plants, enjoying the peace as I moved from one pot to another.

That was when I noticed the leaves scattered all over the ground near the gate. There were quite a few of them and seeing them lying there made me notice how messy the area looked

I should probably clean this up.

I went back inside, grabbed the broom, and returned to the gate. Soon enough, I was busy sweeping the fallen leaves away, humming quietly to myself. My thoughts wandered to the laundry still waiting inside when--

SMACK.

I jumped so hard my heart almost popped out of my mouth. My head snapped left and there he was, the old man, grinning like he had just offered a polite hello instead of slapping my ass.

"H-huh?" The word came out small and shaky. My pulse hammered in my ears. He kept smiling, normal as anything.

"Hello there," he said, voice low and steady. "Sweeping the leaves, hmm?"

I swallowed, gripping the broom tighter. "Y-yeah…"

Before I could think of anything else to say, he reached out and took the broom from my hands. "Let me see." I let go, too startled to resist. He turned it once, then let it fall to the ground.

"Oh, this broom of yours is a little heavy."

"Ah… yeah," I managed, already bending to pick it up. My fingers were inches from the handle when his hand shot out and grabbed my chin. The pressure was solid, commanding. He stopped me mid-motion, holding my face still.

"But do you know what is even heavier?" he asked.

My body stayed half-bent, knees locked, breath caught in my throat. He stepped in close, the front of his shorts level with my eyes. I watched, wide-eyed, as he slipped his hand inside the shorts and started rubbing on his dirty thing.

"This," he said simply.

My eyes went huge. Heat flooded my face. I should have jerked away, should have shouted, but something inside me locked up. I stayed exactly where he held me, chin trapped in his grip, staring at the hidden shape beneath his shorts, now inches from my lips.

He stepped further close and finally pushed his crotch right against my face. The coarse fabric of his shorts pressed my nose and mouth while the stinky heavy bulge beneath it bloomed with heat. For a few long seconds neither of us moved. Then his low voice rumbled above me.

"Ahhh, this woman."

The musky, unwashed scent of his cock soaked into my nostrils. My thighs shook with revulsion, yet my eyelids drifted shut and I breathed it in deeper, letting the foul odor flood my lungs. My womb clenched hard, a sick, dizzying flutter that made me feel filthy. Without thinking, my lips opened and I exhaled like some desperate, panting slut. My tongue slipped out on its own, flicking once against the front of his shorts, tasting the salt and sweat through the cloth.

The moment he felt my tongue, his hand shot down and pulled me upright.

"Hmm, lady, if you don’t control yourself, don’t expect me to do the same."

I stared at him, dazed, mouth still open, unable to form a single word. His eyes glinted with satisfaction.

He pulled me harder against his body. His arms locked around me like iron bands, crushing me against him. One rough palm slid around to grip my ass while the other began tugging my skirt upward. I whimpered and tried to push his hand away, but my fingers only rested there, barely resisting.

He shaved his face straight into my cleavage, his nose and mouth buried between the soft mounds, while his hands gripped my ass hard enough to bruise. I gasped, arms hanging useless, eyes wide and staring tensely over his shoulder at the empty street. No one. Not a soul. And I kept praying it stayed that way.

My nipples tightened against the thin fabric of my top, traitorously sensitive under the rough pressure of his face. He inhaled deeply, grinding his hips so his cock nudged my belly through his shorts. Every nerve in me screamed to push him off, yet the forbidden rush kept me rooted, heart pounding, breath shallow, letting the old man do whatever he wanted in broad daylight.

His breath grew shakier as he slowly pulled his face away, and now inching toward my neck. The second his lips touched my neck, I shuddered, howling as lightly as I could. His tongue dragged up the side of my neck in a long, wet stripe.

"N-nooo… n-not here…"

The protest melted into a shaky moan as he sucked harder at my neck. His fingers dug deep into the fat of my ass, kneading, spreading. My eyes rolled back. Somewhere in the back of my mind I kept praying the street stayed empty, that Leena wouldn’t step outside and see me getting groped in broad daylight.

His mouth moved to my cheek, licking across the flushed skin. The sour tang of his breath hit me, but the heat between my legs only throbbed harder.

I let out a weak cry, voice cracking.

"L-let’s stop… please…"

He pulled back just enough to smirk.

"Stop…? Sure. But I need something wet on my mouth first."

Wh-what?

I glanced toward the street again, anxiety flooding in about how exposed we were.

“It’s... it’s too risky here. I-I can’t...”

He just grinned.

“Lady.”

That was all he said, but the look on his face made it clear what he meant. He wasn't buying my nervous, innocent act anymore. If anything, my hesitation seemed to irritate him, as though he already knew exactly what kind of woman I was and was tired of watching me pretend otherwise.

I swallowed and tried to muster up the courage.

Fine. I’ll get this done quickly.

I closed my eyes, leaned in, and pressed my somewhat opened lips to his. The second we touched, everything snapped. His tongue drove straight into my mouth, thick and insistent, while mine met it just as hungrily. Spit slicked our chins, our noses, dripping between us as the kiss turned frantic and messy. He sucked on my lower lip, then shoved his tongue deep again, swirling it around mine until strings of saliva stretched and broke. I moaned into his mouth, tasting him, letting him taste me.

His hands never stopped either. One stayed fisted in my hair, pinning my head so I couldn’t pull away. The other had worked my skirt all the way up until warm air kissed my bare ass. I hadn’t even noticed when my own hand had gone limp against his advances, only to find itself now gripping his shoulders. Now my cheeks were completely exposed on the open street, his rough palm slapping and squeezing the soft flesh while his tongue raped my mouth.

The kiss was a mixture of violence and passion. Given how risky the whole situation was, that was probably the very thing making me feel even more addicted to the moment.

The warm breeze on my naked ass was just… fucktastic. Anyone could walk by. Anyone could see the married woman from number twelve with her skirt bunched at her waist, tongue-deep in a sloppy kiss with the old man from the next door. The thought made my clit pulse. I wanted to get inside quickly, somewhere no one could see us, but at the same time, I wanted to stay right there and keep kissing him. The thought of someone suddenly walking in and catching us made my heart race. What if someone actually saw me like this?

The idea was humiliating, yet some part of me wanted exactly that. I wanted to be exposed, to have all the shame I'd been trying to hide thrown right back at me.

My mind flashed to my husband. What if he were watching from somewhere? What if he saw exactly how this dirty old neighbor uses his wife while he was away? The idea sent a fresh rush of heat through me because if that were true, it would be... incredible.

I kissed harder, messier, letting more spit spill down my chin, letting my tongue slide filthily against his, swapping saliva in long, noisy strokes. His hand kept working my ass, fingers spreading the cheeks, thumb brushing close to my hole, all while our mouths stayed locked in that wet, obscene tangle.

I didn’t sto-We didn’t stop and we didn’t want to.

The old man at last pulled away from our deep kiss, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. I was panting too, my lips swollen and wet, my mind spinning from how long we'd been kissing together. Minutes had passed and more than I realized. I could see how winded he was. His voice came out rough when he spoke.

"Lady, you're going to swallow me completely."

I blinked, still dazed, and then he said something that made my stomach drop.

"Alright, lady. You gave me what I wanted. Now I'll stop."

The words sounded harsh. After all, I had been the one asking him to stop earlier. So I couldn't exactly complain now or suddenly pretend I hadn't meant what I'd said.

But he seemed to notice the hesitation in my expression. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied my face.

"What? I thought you wanted to stop. So what's this expression?"

I stayed quiet, too ashamed to answer. I wanted to tell him to take me inside, to keep going where no one could see us, but the thought of begging made me feel cheap. And the worst part was knowing he already saw me that way. The realization made my thoughts blur together, humiliation and need twisting until I couldn't tell them apart.

I looked down at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. My hand moved before I could stop it, sliding into his shorts and wrapping around his hard cock through the fabric. I gave it a slow stroke while my other hand grabbed my own breast, squeezing like some desperate slut putting on a show for her master. I needed him to know I wanted more. That I'd do anything to get fucked.

He smiled, a low sound rumbling in his throat.

"Ahhh... youuuu."

His body trembled under my touch, and then his hand was in my hair again, gripping tight. The pull sent a sharp thrill through my spine.

"Come," he said, and started walking, leading me through the gate by my hair like I was on a leash. Every step made me happy and I followed without resistance. The thought of how degrading it was only made the itch between my legs worse. Anyone could see us. Anyone could realize what I was letting him do to me. And instead of stopping, I felt myself getting wetter with every humiliating second.

I thought he was taking me inside the house, but instead he stopped right by the fence wall next to the gate. My heart thumped when he pushed me against it. It was still out in the open, but at least the wall gave us a little cover. My body was already shaking with desperation.

He shoved his shorts down and his cock sprang free, thick and hard. I reached down fast, yanking my panties to the side, giving him a clear path to my dripping cunt. My fingers trembled as I held the fabric away.

He scooped up the slick dripping from my pussy with two fingers and smeared it over his cock. "Excellent," he muttered.

Embarrassment washed over my face. I felt a strange rush of pride at his approval, my nipples tightening even more.

He rubbed the head against my entrance, but it slipped away because I was so wet. Frustrated, he smacked my pussy with his palm. The sharp sting made me jump and a loud moan tore out of me.

Hnnn-

Then he drove inside in one hard thrust. My walls clenched around him and I cried out, "Hnnnghhh!"

He started fucking me right there against the fence, his hips snapping forward, making a loud wet clapping sound. Every few seconds his hand slammed against my ass, the slaps loud in the quiet day.

"My fucking bitch," he groaned, pounding into me.

My breathing grew heavier, and soft little sounds began slipping out.

“Ahh... mmm...”

I tried to keep my voice down, but each shaky breath made it harder to stay quiet. It wasn't loud, but in the stillness around us, I knew it was noticeable.

After a few more thrusts he growled, “Tone it down." He slowed, breathing heavy. "Yesterday fucking you left my lower body sore. Don't make me move much.

I nodded quickly, desperate. Instead of making him thrust, I pushed my ass back onto his cock, fucking myself on him. My hips rolled, taking him deep with every movement.

“Hmmmmmmgggh”

Another hard slap landed on my ass as he laughed. "Look at you. How desperate."

The words and the sting pushed me over the edge. My pussy clamped down hard and I came, shaking against the fence, biting my lip to keep from screaming as the orgasm ripped through me.

My orgasm tore through me so hard my pussy clenched and released in waves, spraying hot liquid all over his cock and thighs. My legs trembled in small, uncontrollable spasms as the gush kept coming, soaking the ground beneath us.

"We don't have all day, lady," he snapped, pulling my hair to pull me upright. My knees buckled but he shoved me down onto the ground. His cock stood rigid, glistening with my mess, throbbing with need.

I understood what he wanted. I leaned forward and took his dirty cock into my mouth, the taste of my own cum coating my tongue. I worked him with long, slow strokes, swirling my tongue around every inch, cleaning him while my hands gripped his thighs for balance. Each time he groaned, I glanced up at his face, desperate to draw another sound from him.

Minutes later, he grabbed my hair tighter and thrust forward hard. His cock slammed to the back of my throat and beyond, the force knocking me backward until I was sitting on the ground. He took over completely, driving his hips in rough, fast strokes while I gasped and gagged around him. Wet, messy sounds filled the air as he used my mouth.

My hands slid up to his stomach, fingers splayed, showing him how much I wanted it. The gesture only made him rougher. He fucked my throat harder, deeper, until his cock pulsed and he pulled out, shooting thick ropes of cum across my face and chest. I stayed on the ground, panting, covered in him, my body still shaking from everything he'd done to me.

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