Jugando a ser la esposa de otro hombre

The wedding reception had been in full swing for four hours. The dim banquet hall smelled of sweet wine, cigarette smoke, and heavy perfume. I was standing by a column with a drink in my hand when she came over. Marina, my neighbor from the fifth floor. Married. Beautiful. Off-limits.

“Did you escape the chaos too?” she asked, her voice low and a little husky. Her eyes glistened from the alcohol. The fingers holding her glass trembled slightly.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes from her lips. Red lipstick. A deep neckline. The scent of her skin—warm, feminine, with a faint trace of sweat from dancing.

“My husband stayed outside to smoke with his friends,” she added, as if justifying herself. Then she smiled out of the corner of her mouth. “And I… I want something different tonight.”

Her gaze traveled over me slowly, appraising. I felt my cock start to swell in my pants. She noticed. Her cheeks flushed.

“Marina…” I started, but she stepped closer. Her thigh brushed against mine. Light, almost accidental. But we both knew nothing was accidental anymore.

“Let’s play a game,” she whispered right into my ear. Her hot breath burned my skin. “Pretend I’m not your neighbor. Pretend I’m… your secret lover. And you’re the one who’s finally going to fuck me at this wedding.”

The words hit me straight below the belt. I swallowed hard. The wine in my head mixed with raw need.

“You serious?” I asked hoarsely.

“Completely,” she said, trailing a finger down my chest, stopping just above my belt. “I’m already wet, honestly. Look.”

She took my hand and, without a shred of embarrassment, guided it under the hem of her dress. My fingers immediately found the hot, damp fabric of her panties. She was soaked. Really soaked.

“Fuck, Marina…” I breathed.

“Not Marina. Tonight I’m your whore. Call me whatever you want.” She bit her lip. “Just don’t stop.”

We slipped out of the reception hall quickly. She led me by the hand down a long hotel corridor. My heart was pounding so hard I thought the whole wedding could hear it. At the end of the hall was a small, empty coatroom. The door clicked shut behind us.

I pinned her against the wall immediately. The kiss was greedy and wet. Our tongues tangled, and she moaned into my mouth. My hands went straight under her dress, pushing it up to her waist. I pulled her panties aside and slid two fingers into her hot, slick pussy.

“Oh, yeah… deeper,” she gasped, arching her back. “Fuck me with your fingers… harder…”

I started moving them fast, curling them, searching for that spot. She was dripping—her juices were running down my palm. Her clit was hard and swollen. I pressed my thumb against it and circled.

“Ahh… just like that… don’t stop,” she moaned, biting my neck, leaving marks. “I want your cock. Now.”

I unbuckled my belt with shaking hands. My cock sprang out—heavy, veined, already slick with precum. Marina dropped to her knees right on the carpet. No warm-up. She took me into her mouth. Deep. All the way to the back of her throat.

“Mmm…” she hummed, looking up at me through her lashes. Saliva ran down her chin. She sucked greedily, loudly, working her tongue over the head and taking almost the entire shaft. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and started fucking her mouth. Not too hard, but steady.

“Good girl… suck it deeper… yeah, just like that, fuck…”

She gagged, but she didn’t stop. Her eyes watered, and her mascara started to run. It was fucking beautiful.

After a couple of minutes, I pulled her up, spun her around, and pushed her face-first against the wall. She arched her back, spread her legs, and hiked her dress higher. Her ass was perfect—round and firm. I dragged the head of my cock along her wet lips, then slammed in all the way to the hilt.

“Ahhh!” she cried out. “You’re so thick… fucking wreck me…”

I started pounding her hard and deep. The slap of skin against skin filled the little room. Her pussy gripped me hot and wet, squeezing on every thrust. I yanked her hair with one hand and spanked her ass with the other.

“Tell me whose you are tonight,” I growled, speeding up.

“Yours… I’m your fucking whore… fuck me harder!” she screamed, no longer caring if anyone heard.

I felt her orgasm building. The walls of her pussy started pulsing, clamping down on my cock. She screamed, her legs shaking. I didn’t let up, still pounding her through it. Liquid sprayed from her—she came so hard she nearly collapsed.

Then I pulled out, turned her around, and made her kneel again.

“Open your mouth,” I ordered.

She obeyed, parting her lips and sticking out her tongue. I started jerking off right over her face. A few seconds later, the first thick ropes of cum shot onto her tongue, her cheeks, her eyelashes. She swallowed whatever landed in her mouth and moaned with pleasure.

When I was done, she licked the head clean, gathering the last drops.

“Mmm… tasty,” she whispered, smiling. Her eyes were bright. Her face was glazed with my cum.

We stayed there for a minute, both breathing hard. Then she stood up, smoothed down her dress, and wiped her face with a tissue from her purse.

“My husband’s probably looking for me by now,” she said with a sly smile. “But if you want… we can keep playing at your place. After the wedding.”

I nodded, still fighting to catch my breath.

“I’ll be waiting for you, neighbor—in your new role.”

She kissed me on the cheek, leaving a faint smudge of lipstick, and walked out first. I stayed in the coatroom, my heart still pounding, one thought spinning in my head: this night was only getting started.