企业妻子的自白

The highway stretched out behind me like a black ribbon, and I couldn't stop thinking about my husband's last text. *Have fun at the conference. Don't be too good for the boys.* I'd laughed at it, but now, sitting in this rented car with a stranger's GPS voice telling me to merge right, I was thinking about how my panties had been damp since breakfast.

His name was Marcus. He'd been in the seat next to me on the flight, and by the time we landed, we'd exchanged numbers under the pretext of "networking." He was younger than my husband, leaner, with these dark eyes that had a way of lingering on my mouth when I talked.

"Hotel's another forty minutes," he said, glancing over from the driver's seat. "You want to grab dinner first, or—"

"I want you to pull over."

He blinked. "Here? It's just fields."

"I know."

I saw his throat work as he swallowed. The car slowed, tires crunching on gravel. He killed the engine and the silence rushed in, thick and heavy. I undid my seatbelt and leaned across the console, my hand finding the bulge in his jeans.

"You've been thinking about this since the airport," I said, my voice low. "I saw the way you looked at my legs when I crossed them."

"Guilty." His voice cracked. "Your husband's a lucky—"

"Don't talk about my husband."

I unzipped him and pulled him out. He was thick, already slick with precum, and the weight of him in my hand made my breath catch. I stroked him slowly, watching his head fall back against the seat.

"Fuck," he breathed.

I leaned down and took him into my mouth. He tasted salty and male, and I hollowed my cheeks as I worked him deeper. His hand tangled in my hair, not pushing, just holding, and I heard him groan through his teeth.

"That's it," he whispered. "God, that's so good."

I sucked him until my jaw ached, until he was trembling beneath me, then I pulled off. He was panting, his chest rising and falling under his dress shirt.

"Your turn," I said.

I climbed into the back seat and hiked up my skirt. I wasn't wearing anything underneath — I'd made a decision in the hotel bathroom this morning, and now it was paying off. He followed me, fumbling with his belt, and when he saw me lying there with my thighs spread, he just stared.

"You're perfect," he said.

"Stop talking. Fuck me."

He didn't need to be told twice. He positioned himself at my entrance and pushed inside, and I gasped at the stretch. He was bigger than my husband, and he filled me in a way that made my eyes roll back.

"God, you're wet," he said, his voice ragged.

"I've been wet since you said my name at the gate."

He started to move, slow and deep, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. The car creaked with each thrust, the windows fogging up. I could feel every inch of him dragging against my walls, and I arched my back to take him deeper.

"Harder," I demanded.

He obliged, slamming into me with a rhythm that stole my breath. I clawed at his back, my nails digging through his shirt. The car was rocking now, and I didn't care if anyone saw. I was someone else's wife, but I was his for this moment.

"I'm close," he grunted.

"Not yet. I want to ride you."

We switched positions, and I straddled him, sinking down onto his cock with a moan. He filled me completely, and I rode him hard, my tits bouncing under my blouse. He grabbed my hips, guiding me, and I leaned forward to kiss him — dirty, sloppy, tasting myself on his tongue.

“看着我，”他说。

I did. Our eyes locked, and I felt the tension building, coiling low in my belly. He thrust up into me, hitting that spot that made me see stars, and I came with a cry that I muffled against his shoulder.

“操，太爽了，”我倒吸一口气。

He flipped me over onto my hands and knees, driving into me from behind. The change was brutal and perfect, and I buried my face in the seat as he pounded into me. The car was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, wet and obscene.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned.

"Cum inside me."

He did, with a groan that sounded almost pained, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into me. I felt every pulse, and it made me shiver.

We stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard. Then he pulled out, and I collapsed onto the seat, laughing breathlessly.

"What's your husband going to think?" he asked, a hint of guilt in his voice.

I smiled, reaching for my phone. "He's going to think I'm at the conference." I typed a quick text, then showed it to him: *Miss you. Can't wait to be home.*

Marcus laughed. "You're something else."

"I'm a hotwife," I said, sitting up and fixing my skirt. "And you're my little secret." I kissed him once more, then opened the door. "Now take me to the hotel. We're not done yet."