Chapter 9

He locked the door behind us. A fiery and heated kiss was shared, pants were dropped, ribbed plastic was applied to his nine inches of uncut dick, and I was bent over one of the American Standard sinks in a matter of seconds, obtaining the pounding of my life from my significant other.

Maybe he believed or interpreted that he wasn’t ramming his cock into me. Instead, it was Greer-rear he was swinging to and fro with. Not that I minded, though. If the young blond artist turned my husband of seventeen years on, I only benefited from it in the end, literally. The ride was swift and wild, heated and intense. Everything about it was fun, unplanned, and desired to the fullest.