Caught by My Husband

I lay naked on my back in the middle of our bed, the sheets already kicked down to the footboard, the late-afternoon light sliding across my skin. Twenty-eight and I still felt that little electric jump every time I did this in Theo’s bed. My legs were spread wide, knees bent, feet planted, and Desmond knelt between them, thirty-two, broad shoulders and that slow, hungry stare he always got when he had me like this. My phone rested on my stomach. I was texting Theo.

Just got home early? I typed, thumbs moving while Desmond’s fingers traced the inside of my thigh. Miss you. How’s the meeting going?

Desmond’s thumb brushed the top of my slit and I sucked in a breath. He wasn’t even inside me yet. He just looked, eyes locked on my clit like he was studying it, the way it peeked out from under the hood, already swollen. His other hand spread me open a little more so he could see everything. I felt the air hit me and then the pad of his finger, slow circles, not quite enough pressure. My hips twitched.

“Keep typing,” he said, voice low. “Tell him you’re thinking about him.”

I bit my lip and typed, Thinking about you. Wish you were here right now. My other hand stayed on the phone so Theo wouldn’t see the little pause. Desmond’s finger slid lower, gathering the wetness that was already leaking out of me, and dragged it up over my clit. I moaned, quiet, and the phone almost slipped.

He watched my face while he did it, then looked back down. “You’re dripping on his sheets,” he murmured. “Look at that.” He pressed two fingers along either side of my clit and stroked, slow, deliberate, the way he knew made my thighs shake. I could hear how wet I was. Every pass of his fingers made a soft sound. I typed something else—Can’t wait to see you tonight—and hit send before I lost the thread.

Desmond leaned in and kissed the inside of my knee, then higher, mouth open, tongue dragging. His eyes never left my pussy. He spread me with his thumbs and just stared, breathing on me, then licked one long stripe from my entrance up to my clit. I gasped and the phone buzzed in my hand. Theo had answered.

Running late. Be home by seven. Love you.

I stared at the words while Desmond’s tongue circled my clit, slow and filthy. My free hand fisted in the sheet. The guilt and the heat mixed until I couldn’t tell them apart. I was texting my husband while my boyfriend ate me in our bed, and every second of it made my pulse hammer harder. Desmond sucked my clit between his lips and I arched, phone still clutched tight.

“Answer him,” Desmond said against me, voice muffled. He slid one thick finger inside me, curled it, and I clenched around him. “Tell him you’re fine.”

I typed with shaking thumbs. I’m fine. Just relaxing. Love you too. Sent it. Desmond added a second finger and fucked them into me slow while his tongue stayed on my clit. I was so wet his fingers moved easy, the sound obscene in the quiet room. My nipples were tight, my stomach jumping every time he stroked that spot inside me. I kept my eyes on the phone screen so I wouldn’t come yet, but my hips rolled up to meet his mouth anyway.

He pulled his fingers out and sat back on his heels, cock heavy and hard between his thighs, already leaking at the tip. He looked at me spread open for him, then hooked both hands under my knees and lifted. My left leg went over his shoulder first, then the right, until my calves rested against his back and my ass was tilted up off the mattress. The new angle opened me completely. He leaned down, chest against the backs of my thighs, and kissed my neck, open-mouthed, teeth grazing the skin just under my ear.

“Still texting him?” he asked, breath hot.

I nodded, phone still in my hand above my head now. Desmond’s cock nudged against me, the thick head sliding through my folds, catching on my entrance and then slipping up to drag over my clit. I whimpered. He did it again, slow, coating himself in me, not pushing in yet. His mouth moved down my throat, licking, sucking lightly so he wouldn’t leave a mark Theo would see. Every time his cockhead pressed against me I felt myself clench, trying to pull him in.

Theo texted again. Don’t wait up if you’re tired. I’ll be quiet.

I almost laughed. Desmond kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then back to my neck while he kept rocking his hips, teasing. The head of his cock was right there, hot and blunt, and I was so empty it ached. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. I typed, I’ll be awake. Then deleted it. Typed, Okay. Love you. Sent that instead.

Desmond’s hand slid under my ass and lifted me a little higher. The next slow drag of his cock caught and stayed. He pushed, just the head, stretching me open inch by inch. I moaned into his shoulder, phone forgotten for a second against the pillow. He kissed my neck harder, tongue stroking the pulse there, and sank in another inch. The stretch burned sweet. I was so wet he slid easy once he was past the first tight ring, but he went slow anyway, letting me feel every thick inch.

“Fuck,” I whispered. My legs tightened over his shoulders. He was halfway in and already I felt full. He pulled back until just the head stayed inside, then pushed again, deeper this time, kissing my neck the whole way. My phone buzzed. I didn’t look. Desmond’s hips met mine and he was all the way in, balls against my ass, cock buried so deep I could feel him in my stomach. He stayed there, not moving, just breathing against my throat while I adjusted.

I dropped the phone onto the mattress beside my head. “Fuck me,” I said, voice wrecked. “Please. I need you to fuck me.”

He smiled against my skin and started to move. Slow at first, long strokes that dragged his cock almost all the way out before he slid back in, deep and steady. Every thrust pushed a little sound out of me. My hands found his back, nails digging in. He kissed my neck, my collarbone, the top of my breast, never speeding up, just fucking me with that relentless rhythm while my legs stayed hooked over his shoulders. The angle let him hit deep every time. I could hear how wet I was, the soft slap of his hips against my ass, the creak of the bed Theo and I had bought together.

“You feel so good,” he muttered against my throat. “So fucking tight. He’s gonna come home and smell me on these sheets.”

I clenched around him at the words and he groaned, thrusts getting a little harder. My clit rubbed against him every time he bottomed out. I was close already, the slow build turning sharp. I scratched down his back and he answered by fucking me faster, still deep, the head of his cock stroking that spot inside me over and over. My moans got louder. I didn’t care. The phone lit up again somewhere near my ear but I ignored it, lost in the way he filled me, the way his mouth stayed on my neck, kissing and licking while he drove into me.

He pulled out suddenly and I whimpered at the loss. Before I could complain he flipped me onto my stomach, then hauled my hips up so I was on my hands and knees in the middle of the bed. My arms shook. He gripped my hips hard, lined up, and sank back into me in one long thrust. The new angle was deeper. I dropped to my elbows, face in the pillow that smelled like Theo’s shampoo, and pushed back to meet him.

Desmond didn’t go slow anymore. He pounded into me, hips snapping, the sound of skin on skin loud in the room. Every thrust shoved me forward and he dragged me back, fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. I moaned into the pillow, then turned my head so I could breathe, so I could hear him. “Harder,” I gasped. “Fuck me harder. Right here. In his bed.”

He did. The bed frame knocked against the wall. My tits swayed under me, nipples dragging on the sheet. I reached back and grabbed his thigh, urging him deeper. He leaned over me, chest to my back, one hand sliding around to rub my clit while he fucked me. The combination undid me. I came hard, crying out, pussy clamping down on his cock in tight pulses while he kept thrusting through it, not stopping, drawing it out until I was shaking and sobbing into the mattress.

He didn’t let me collapse. He kept going, slower now but still deep, letting me feel every inch while the aftershocks rolled through me. My arms gave out. I stayed on my knees, ass up, face turned to the side, breathing hard. Desmond’s hand stroked my lower back, then gripped my hip again and started to pick up speed.

The bedroom door opened.

I heard the hinge, the soft click of the latch. My eyes flew open. Theo stood in the doorway, thirty-four, still in his work shirt, tie loosened, keys in one hand. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His eyes locked on us—on me on all fours in our bed, Desmond’s cock buried inside me, my ass flushed from his grip, the wet shine of my pussy stretched around him.

Desmond didn’t stop. He thrust again, slow and deep, and I felt myself clench. Theo’s gaze dropped to where we were joined, then back to my face. I should have pulled away. I didn’t. I looked straight at my husband while Desmond fucked me, another orgasm already building from the shock and the heat and the way Theo just stood there watching.

“Theo,” I whispered. My voice broke on his name.

Desmond’s hand tightened on my hip. He kept thrusting, steady, balls slapping lightly against me, and I came again, harder than the first time, eyes locked on Theo’s while my pussy milked Desmond’s cock. Theo didn’t look away. His mouth was parted. The keys dangled from his fingers. Desmond groaned behind me, thrusts turning ragged, and I felt him swell. He buried himself deep and came, pulsing hot inside me, filling me while I stared at my husband and shook through the last waves.

Theo’s keys hit the floor. He took one step into the room, then another, eyes never leaving mine, and the last thing I saw before Desmond’s hand slid up to cover my mouth was the way Theo’s pants were already tented, the quiet, hungry look on his face that said he had known exactly whose car was in the driveway and had come home early on purpose.