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The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the quiet suburban street. Inside one of the neat, well-kept houses, a couple was about to embark on a thrilling, forbidden encounter that would change their lives forever.
Olga, a stunning redhead with curves that would make a temple priest weaken at the knees, was lounging on the couch in her living room, flipping through a magazine. Her husband, Alexei, was out for the evening, leaving her alone and bored. That’s when the knock on the door came.
Olga opened the door to find her neighbor, Dmitri, standing there with a mischievous glint in his eye. Dmitri had always been a bit of a devil – charming, dangerous, and irresistibly sexy. And he knew it. He boldly stepped into the house and closed the door behind him.
“Dmitri, what are you doing here? My husband is out,” Olga said, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. But her body already betrayed her, her nipples stiffening beneath her thin blouse.
Dmitri moved closer, his hand grazing her arm. “I know he’s out. I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he purred, his Russian accent thicker than usual. “I’ve seen you, Olga. The way you move, the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. You want me, don’t you?”
Olga’s heart raced as Dmitri’s words echoed in her mind. This was wrong. She was a married woman. But the way Dmitri looked at her, touched her, made her feel like a woman again. Not just a wife, but a desirous, sexual being.
A moan escaped her lips as Dmitri’s hand slid down to cup her breast, his thumb circling her hardened nipple. “Dmitri… we shouldn’t…” she gasped, even as she arched into his touch.
“Shh, just let me take care of you, milaya,” Dmitri whispered, his lips now a hair’s breadth away from hers.
With a final protest that died on her lips, Olga surrendered. Dmitri’s mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, tasting, conquering. His hands were everywhere, roaming her curves, squeezing, caressing.
Olga’s hands weren’t idle either. She fumbled with Dmitri’s belt, unbuckling it with shaking fingers. She needed to feel him, to have him inside her, banishing the loneliness and neglect that had crept into her marriage.
Clothes flew, a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths. Dmitri lifted Olga onto the couch, kneeling between her spread thighs. His mouth found her center, his tongue flicking out to taste her. Olga cried out, her fingers tangling in Dmitri’s hair, holding him close as he devoured her.
“Dmitri… please… I need you inside me,” she begged, her hips bucking against his face.
Dmitri raised his head, his lips glistening with her juices. “As you wish, milaya,” he growled, moving up her body.
He sheathed himself in her in one powerful thrust, filling her completely. Olga wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles at the small of his back. Dmitri set a hard, fast pace, pistoning in and out of her. The obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room.
“Harder, Dmitri,” Olga gasped, her nails raking down his back. “I want to feel you tomorrow.”
Dmitri complied, slamming into her harder, deeper. The scrape of his beard against her sensitive skin, the scent of his cologne mingling with their sweat, the way his pelvis ground against hers… it all conspired to push Olga closer to the edge.
She felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, threatening to snap. Dmitri sensed it too, and redoubled his efforts. With a few more hard, deep thrusts, Olga shattered. She screamed her completion to the ceiling, her inner muscles clenching around Dmitri’s throbbing cock.
With a guttural moan, Dmitri followed her, burying himself to the hilt as he flooded her with his essence. He collapsed on top of her, both of them panting, skin slick with sweat.
As the afterglow began to fade, reality started to seep in. What had they done? Olga looked up at Dmitri, panic etched on her face. “Dmitri… we have to stop this. It’s wrong. I… I love my husband,” she said, even as her body betrayed her, still trembling from her climax.
Dmitri rolled off her, a smirk playing on his lips. “Love is for the weak, milaya. What we have is passion, desire, the thrill of the forbidden. And you know you’ll be back for more.”
With that, he got up, ignoring his strewn clothes, and sauntered out of the house. Olga watched him go, her naked body still quivering with the force of her betrayal…and the anticipation of the next time.
This was just the beginning of a torrid, clandestine affair that would leave Olga breathless and aching for more. And her husband, ever loyal, would remain blissfully unaware of his wife’s sordid secret – until all hell broke loose.
