‘Well if that’s how you feel, FUCK OFF!’ David’s scream dragged Helen from her thoughts, and she stood, walking back out into the hall in time to see a retreating back slamming the front door and David staring in that direction murderously. ‘Let me guess, latest squeeze isn’t liking the clandestine stuff?’ Helen asked her husband softly, twisting her wedding ring slowly around her finger. ‘No. Fucking hates it. Man, I wish this wasn’t happening.’ Blue eyes regarded the woman, ‘What the hell happened to you sugar, you look like shit.’ ‘Gee, thanks Dave.’ Helen replied frostily. ‘I got the shit kicked out of me and Bryan had to take me home because you’re *supposed* to be away on buisness. Why are you home anyway?’ David groaned, and began walking toward the kitchen and living area. ‘Because my parents are coming over.’ Helen’s eyes widened and she chased after David. ‘No, no way. For starters today is Sunday, you know, my day of rest from *everything*. You’re parents *never* come over. She arched her back, pushing her labia against the luscious fabric, imagining his plump, sturdy fingers caressing her with dexterity. She slid again, her clitoral hood anchoring softly against the swatch of lace and now her hands were against the slightly torn lacy v-neck where he had hurriedly grabbed her, clutching the sides of her breasts so that they were now exposed to the chill of the morning air, providing added sensory to her heightened state. She exhaled then inhaled once more, arching her back even higher. Her fingers running over the rosy, hardened tips of her bust. She groaned, her control almost snapping with this outburst of sudden pleasure. The buzz of her phone from the night table interrupted the paralysis of her ecstasy. His picture, the one where his eyes were closed, his lips smiling joyfully appeared on the cover and she quickly sat up, tossing her dark red curls over to one shoulder so she could answer clearly. His voice, deep and husky, greeted her over the.
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