Fuck Friend Of Her Husband In Home
A Spicy Tale of Passion and Betrayal
In the heart of West Africa, in a modest suburban home, two unlikely lovers met in secret, their hearts pounding with lustful anticipation. Natasha, a jealousy fiend wife, was blissfully unaware that her husband’s old college buddy, Omari, had been sneaking over to tussle assignations with the voluptuous temptress, Yasmine, mere meters from where she lay.
Yasmine, a fiery Nigerian goddess, with tantalizing mocha skin, hips that swayed like undulating waves, and a full, round derriere that begged to be grabbed – wanted Omari with a hunger that could not be sated. She fantasized about his body, his manhood, his scent. She hungered for the taste of his lips, his chest, his… Everything. She dreamt of being taken, no, ravished, by him. And here he was, standing in her living room, eyes burning with the same wicked desire.
Omari approached Yasmine, his body language alluring yet dangerous, like a predator stalking his prey. He slowly undressed, revealing layers of muscle and dark, delicious skin. He was a Greek god come to life. Yasmine could barely contain herself as his pants hit the floor, freeing his mighty, full arousal. She yearned to feel it throbbing inside her, filling her, stretching her.
Without a word, Omari swept Yasmine into his arms,laying her back on the couch. His hands roamed over her body, worshipping every curve, every inch. He kissed ahis way down her body, only pausing to tongue her sensitive brown nipples. She quivered and ached for more. Then he visited her most private place, lavishing her with a tongue so talented, she thought she would explode. The mix of Taboo and ecstasy was overwhelming; she was trembling, breathless.
Omari positioned himself atop Yasmine, his hard length poised at her entrance. He waited a moment, savouring the ache, the need, studying her face. Then he said, “I love you, Yasmine. I want you to be my woman. I’ll leave her, she won’t know a thing until it’s too late.”
Yasmine’s heart nearly stopped. This was the same man she’d shared a passionate debate with a month ago, the man she’d watched with glee as he brought her to the heights of pleasure. Was she really ready to be the other woman, the temptress, the side chick?
But then he thrust into her deeply, his mighty girth stretching her limits, his strokes hitting every pleasurable nerve inside her. The pleasure was too much, too good. She wrapped her long, shapely legs around Omari’s back, pulling him deeper, crying out his name. She surrendered to the ecstasy, hoping the conflict within did not show on her flushed, doll-like face.
As Omari pounded into her, the beastly sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room. The sex was primal, animalistic, raw, uninchained. It was the definition of a “fuck”. Yasmine could feel Omari’s pelvis slapping hard against her own as he bury his himself deeper and deeper into her. It was more than just sex, it was a delicious allegation, a defiant claiming, a bitter yet succulent intertwine between two humans who knew they were doing wrong, yet couldn’t stop.
Her mind clouded from the intensity and arousal, she felt a naughty pleasure surge through her as she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. Her juicy almond-like breasts bouncing from the rhythm of Omari’s thrusts, perky nipples beaded in ecstasy, betraying inner Sans of implicit delight.
And as Yasmine tumbled over the edge into a powerful orgasm, she heard Omari’s commanding voice demanding her “to cum on his cock.” The command sent a torrent of sensation through her. Her canvas walls gripping his throbbing shaft, delightfully pulsating his girth, anoints the inners of her folds with her delicious release…exuding Omari’s rigidly engorged manhood, creating a sexual phantasmagoria between two bodies, one glistening with beads of sweat another still wet of love liquid.
At the peak of her climax, the room was filled with wet, vocacious, sinful sound effects. Their sweat intermingling, bare bodies plastered to each other from the hefty buoyancy of their intercourse. The sensation of ecstatic release such a delirious and salacious experience that every nerve ending in Yasmine’s body felt electrified as her muscles gripped and undulated against Omari’s hips. Her eyes rolled back and her ebony face was covered into a painful yet hugely sinful expression of rapture.
Suddenly, the front door opened. Quiet clicks echoed in the courtyard. There were no more secret rendezvous to be had in the living room. It was over, their naughty affair. Natasha, now back from temple prayer, stood in disbelief at the sight of her husband’s cock split in out her lush dark sister.
Yasmine and Omari froze, guilty as ever. What a scandal this would be, the betrayal of those closest. The wrath of their lust had led them to discard their reason and respect for each other. Christianity and ethics questioned but in one glance they needed no words, just their climaxing juices raining down on the carpets and them defiling all sanctity… and why not, there was no going back. They smiled, omitting their confession, and laughed into erotic oblivion.
The End
