"Hubby's not home til Monday. I think I forgot to lock a window. I'm a lil drunk..."
I'm hard as soon as I see her message. I hadn't heard from Mia in a little while, but I'd figured she'd text eventually. She always does.
Right away I start calling people to cover my shift. It's not too difficult -- it's Friday night and the bars are packed, there's always someone looking to pick up a little extra work.
I smoke a J and head over to her place at around 10. It's a nice neighborhood so I make sure to park up the street a little way -- an old beater of a car like mine isn't exactly welcome around here, and the last thing I need is some fucking Karen calling the cops on me again.
When I walk over I stick to the shadows, staying close to the hedges. Up ahead, her husband's bigass house looms, lights on in every window.
The fence is higher than I remember, and I curse as I pull myself over it. Fucking...she could have left the gate open, or something. I guess that's not the point, though -- she calls me over when she wants a thrill. Well I'll give her one alright.
I half-fall into their big backyard, cursing again as I land and climb up to my feet. It's a nice place, I have to admit as I look over the lawn; her dipshit husband has enough money to buy himself some good stuff at least, I gotta give him that. I dust myself off and set to work looking for the way in.
There's tons of windows and a few doors, but all of them are locked. What the fuck? Did she invite me over just to mess with me?
It's not until I look up that I see it -- an open window on the second floor.
Fuck. What the hell, Mia? Why not open one a little easier to get to? For sure she's trying to piss me off...she must want it bad tonight.
Gritting my teeth, I struggle up the side of the house, thankful now for the tall fence and hedges, hoping no one will see me, hoping I won't break my damn neck.
Luckily their fancyass house has little ledges I can grab onto, and after a lot of swearing I'm up on the sill, slipping through that goddamn window, ending up in an empty bedroom.
There's a note on the floor in front of me; I recognize Mia's handwriting.
"Shoes off :)"
I roll my eyes. After all that trouble breaking in, I'm supposed to act like some regularass houseguest? Grumbling, I do as the note says. I wanna be invited back again, don't I? Gotta pay to play.
I make my way stealthily into the hall and down the stairs; from somewhere near I can hear a TV blaring. It's a trashy reality show, from the sound of it...just the sort of shit Mia would watch.
I creep through the house, following the noise, and find her in a cozy carpeted den near the dining room. She's on a couch wearing a black lace babydoll, her wine bottle more than half-finished.
Damn does she look good though. At 5'1 she's a petite Puerto Rican, her olive skin already flushed from drinking. She put on makeup for me, her eyelashes done and everything, her hair up and colored an enticing red-brown. At 26 she's looking fine as hell -- she's still skinny like she was when we were dating, but a few years of being a trophy housewife has fattened her ass up some. Not that I mind; not at all.
I sneak up behind her as she's engrossed in the show and grab her by the throat.
"Ah!" she gasps, her pulse racing against my palm. She looks back at me, eyes wide, and then a sly smirk crosses her face. "Took you long enough," she purrs.
"Shut up," I growl, flexing my grip, making her gasp again. "I had to climb up the side of your god damn house."
Her mouth falls open at my rough touch, and a wicked grin lights up her eyes. "Mmm, yeah...I forgot to mention it was a different window than last time," she says in a strangled voice.
I grin in spite of myself, squeezing just a little bit more. "You are such a bitch," I growl, pulling on her, maneuvering her easily, forcing her to face me over the back of the couch.
"I know. What are you gonna do about it?" Her eyes flash in challenge, and my smile grows.
"Whatever the fuck I want," I say leaning in, sticking my tongue down her throat.
It wasn't always this way -- it wasn't until after we'd broken up that we'd both realized we wanted to fuck like we didn't care about each other. That had been some of the best sex of my life, back then. Then she'd gone and ruined it by marrying some rich old fuck from her church. I'd figured after that I wouldn't hear from her...but two years later she starts texting me again. Apparently the old guy just doesn't do it for her, apparently she needs what she used to have.
Which is fine by me -- I need it too.
She moans into my kiss, returning it with a greedy sultry passion, purring against me, her fingernails raking up and down my arms. I put my other hand in her hair and pull her petite body up onto the back of the couch, drawing her to me. She's soft and pliant -- I love how she responds to my roughness. I always have.
Finally I break away, my forehead against hers, breathing deep. "You're playing games with me tonight, huh? You wanted to piss me off with that little window trick, is that it?"
She smiles through my strong grip on her windpipe, nodding her head. "Yeahh...I was hoping you'd be madder. I want you to fuck me up tonight, Derek. I want you to treat me like shit -- I want you to treat me like a fucking whore." Her eyes flash and she leans in, biting my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
I growl in pain and arousal and squeeze the hardest yet, forcing her mouth open as she chokes, throwing her back down against the cushions. I'm on her in an instant, vaulting over the couch and pinning her, feeling that heat, that sexual anger that she loves to draw out of me.
"You want me to fuck you up, huh, you little tramp?" I say, dealing her a smack on the face as she gasps for breath. "You need to be treated like shit again, that's what you fucking need?"
She nods eagerly, red-faced and about to say something. I cut her off with another slap, harder this time, taking her by the throat once more and trapping her against the cushions. "Shut up and show me, you whore. Shut up and show me that cheating little cunt -- show me what a bad little bitch you are."
She gurgles against my grip, and almost frantically she pulls up the hem of her lingerie, showing off the skimpy black thong she has on underneath. Without a moment's hesitation she tears it down and spreads herself, showing off the caramel-colored lips of her petite pussy.
I'm already worked up as it is, and the sight of that little cunt being offered to me only makes matters worse. I spit on it, switching my grip to her hair, letting her draw in a gasping breath as she quivers beneath.
"Touch that shit for me," I growl, glaring at her. "Touch that shit and tell me what a slut you are."
Her hands are there instantly, peeling back her folds, playing with herself, showing me her pink. That look of challenge in her eyes is gone, replaced with a submissive stare, her eyebrows knitting together.
"Mmm I'm the biggest slut Derek," she whines. "It makes me so wet when I invite you over, to fuck my married cheating pussy. I've been waiting and waiting, it's been weeks...I've just been, I've just been waiting to feel your hands all over me, to touch me that way you do..."
Her little whimpering voice has me rock fucking hard, and I'm already tearing off my belt, looping it around her neck and cinching it tight, giving it a pull as her eyes go wider. "You keep those hands on that pussy, you don't fucking move them away," I command as I straddle her chest, pulling my pants and boxers down and smacking her forehead with my dick.
She gives a glad groan, going crosseyed to look at it, and then I'm rubbing my cock all against her, slapping her with the underside of it. She's got the perfect pretty little face for this, her painted lips pouting as I drag my dick and swollen ballsack across them.
"You gonna suck my cock good, you little bitch?" I demand with a shake of her hair. She nods, flush with excitement, moaning against me.
"Better than you do for your husband?" She nods again and I smile, feral and heated, as I force myself into her mouth.
She opens for it but I don't give her much chance to prepare, shoving in as much of myself as I can in one go. Her little cheeks puff out, her sweet little mouth a warm wet paradise into which I plunge myself. I fill her easily, her throat a tight barrier preventing me from inserting myself all the way. With a grunt I push past that too, making her gag as I stick all of myself inside.
"Look at me, you cunt," I snarl, pushing until my balls rests on her chin. She does so, her big brown bloodshot eyes staring up at me and seeming to beg for more, her eyebrows coming together as if in apology. God I fucking love that look.
I start to shove myself in and out, violently fucking her pretty face, taking it like it's her pussy. I spit on her forehead; I reach back and slap her between the legs, lost in lust and in total control of her. She groans and writhes at my touch, and I swipe her wine bottle off the table, feeling like a king, taking a long drink as she gags on my shaft all the while.
