Emily's Phone Rings

Emily’s hips moved in slow, deliberate strokes, her thighs tightening and releasing with each roll, slick heat grinding Eli’s cock deep inside her. The air around them felt heavy, humid with breath and sweat and the sharp scent of sex. Her breasts bounced softly with each bounce, her nipples grazing his chest, flushed and stiff.

Eli’s eyes were glazed, breath ragged. His fingers curled against the seat, not daring to grip her, not daring to break the spell.

Then—
BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ.

The vibration broke through the moment like a crack of thunder.
Muffled. Nearby. Insistent.

Emily paused mid-thrust, her breath catching. She shifted her weight just slightly, her pussy squeezing tight around him, still fully impaled.

“The hell is that?” Eli whispered, eyes darting.

Emily didn’t answer. She turned her head toward the purse beside the chair, where the phone buzzed again against a tube of hand cream. She leaned sideways, tits swaying as her hair fell forward across her collarbone, and pulled the phone from the open bag.

She looked at the screen.

Then she said, calmly, “It’s my husband.”

Eli’s face went pale. “What—?”

She didn’t answer. She placed the phone on the small table beside them, screen up, still vibrating.

JASON – MOBILE
2:45 PM

She didn’t answer.

She turned back to him—her expression unreadable, lips parted slightly, eyes dark.

Then she started riding him again.

Slower. Wetter. More deliberate.

Each stroke slid her down his cock to the base, her thighs clenching with each rise, her cunt milking him like her body meant to wring him out. His eyes rolled back, a soft choked sound escaping his lips.

“He’s probably thinking I’m still at work,” she murmured, breath hot against his cheek.

Eli swallowed hard, barely nodding. His hands found her hips—helpless, overwhelmed.

“But I’m here,” she whispered, grinding forward, breasts dragging across his chest. “Stuffed full of a stranger.”

He moaned—deep, ****.

Her rhythm quickened, riding him in smooth, rhythmic thrusts, her cunt gripping him tighter now, each bounce sending fresh wet sounds into the quiet aisle.

“He has no idea I’m about to cum on a cock that isn’t his.”

She rocked harder. Slicker. Her body slapped down into his, legs trembling from effort, hair clinging damp to her shoulders.

“Good,” she panted. “Because I’m not stopping. Not until I’ve got your cum dripping out of me.”

BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ.

The phone lit up again beside them.
JASON – MOBILE
2:49 PM

Emily didn’t even look at it this time.
She just kept fucking.