Cheating on my WIFE while she showers upstairs

The sultry streams of water cascading down revealed her supple curves as she hummed a tune only she could hear. Little did his wife know, her unsuspecting spouse was downstairs, engrossed in his own pleasure, cheating on her while she showers upstairs. He had watched her ascend the stairs, a wisp of steam trailing behind, her curvy frame barely concealed under a skimpy towel. As the water departed the taps and assumed its vaporous form, his arousal grew, building a resolve to indulge in an carnal act.

He couldn’t help but mentally undress her as memories of her wet body beneath the cleansing spray flooded his mind. His gaze drifted to the staircase, imaging her descending towards the kitchen where he lay in wait. Then, the towel would drop. Nothing but naked, flawless skin. And a raging hard-on that begged to be freed from its confines.

As she sang to herself, he began to undo his belt, the metal buckle clattering against the tiled floor. His breath caught in his throat as he slid his pants down his muscular legs, revealing the throbbing erection that strained against his boxer briefs. The fabric stretched taught, outlining every engorged vein and pulsing ridge.

Impatiently, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged them down, freeing his cock. It bobbed lewdly in front of him, the mushroomed head already slick with pre-cum. He wrapped his hand around its thick girth, giving it a firm squeeze before stroking slowly from tip to base. He groaned quietly, mindful of keeping his lecherous activities a secret from his unsuspecting wife.

His strong fingers worked the shaft in rhythmic motions, creating a wet, gliding sound. He imagined her glistening pussy eagerly swallowing his length, those hot velvety walls clenching and pulsing around him. The unspoken taboo of sneaking away to jerk off while wife was innocent ignorance only added to his excitement. Not one of her own knew she was the cause of his wanton masturbation.

With each stroke, his grip wandered lower, cupping and fondling heavy balls aching to empty themselves. He rolled them around in his palm, feeling them tighten at his touch. He let them stuff themselves inside his pants before he resumed stroking, picking up the pace. His ragged breaths turned into grunts as his jerking motions became frantic and needy.

The water had long since ceased its flow but his lust raged on. Panting heavily, he tilted his hand and aimed his quivering cock towards the floor. The head swelled, the slit of his slit opening and closing, begging for some form of stimulation. His free hand fondled his full sack while the other one jackhammered up and down his engorged member. Faster, faster, faster.

The sensation was delicious, mind-bending, unlike anything he had ever experience. His thrusts became erratic, his eyes rolling back in head as the pressure at the bottom of his spine built into an impending eruption. His thighs flexed and trembled, toes curling from the intense pleasure he was inflicting upon himself. The universe narrowed down to the single pinpoint of friction his pulsing cock was experiencing.

With one final tug, he felt his cock swell impossibly further, the head turning an angry shade of purple. “Oh fuck, fuuuuck!” he groaned through grated teeth as his release came crashing throughout his entire being. His body convulsed as powerful spurts of semen erupted from his cock, splattering the tiled floor with thick, white ropes of cum. His balls emptied themselves with a fervour, shot after shot arcing through the air before splattering against the ground. His cock spasmed and twitched, unable to prematurely cease its ejaculation.

By the time he was completely spent, streaks of semen coated the cold floor. A river of cum swirled around the drain, slowly spiralling into the sewers below. He slumped back against the wall, weak knees no longer able to hold up his satiated body. A heaving chest desperately pulled in lungfuls of air through his parted lips.

He glanced down at the mess he had made, then back up to the now quiet bathroom. Her shower had ended, leaving curious driblets of water to race down the drain. She was back in her room now, towelling dry her glistening skin. His still rock hard erection jutted in his wife’s direction, a gravity defying pillar of machismo, hard proof that his desire for her was all-consuming. A boon of manhood that longed to be buried balls deep in her womanhood.

He contemplated interrupting, barging into some and impaling her onto his throbbing pole. But no. He needed the element of surprise. He wanted to hear her shrieks of joy and ecstasy when he suddenly grabbed her from behind as she stretched for her moisturizer on the dresser. He wanted to feel her clench in pure delight as his mushroom head penetrated her dripping slit, especially when she thought she was alone.

He rubbed his hand over his face, self-consciously groaning at the thought. He needed to collect himself before upstairs. He couldn’t afford to have his adolescent ramblings betray his true intent.

So he slowly stood up, grasping the chairback into Ashley Monroe to steady himself. Off-handedly, he grabbed a squirt bottle and a roll of paper towel from underneath the sink and began methodically wiping up his copious mess. It was only fair and kind to his poor wife that she didn’t have to soldier through his excessive ejaculation. That would lay there undisturbed until he came back downstairs for more.

Once the floor was deemed clean and sanitized to his satisfaction, he contentedly tucked his penis back into the confines of his boxer briefs. He as surprised by how sensitive it felt against the fabric, but he knew he would just have to suck it up for now. No matter how good he felt, or how much he cumbled for release, he had a wife to fuck and products to plow.

So he buckled his belt and made his way to the stairs, two at a time, in large, leering strides. He was still rock hard but that was going to be rectified momentarily. He had a creampie with his wife’s name written all over it. He opened the door to his bedroom, a sly smirk on his face as he took in the sight before him. A naked woman thinking herself alone, scrambling to search for clothes that aren’t there. An exposed set of enticing assets.

What was she going to do when he slammed the door shut and pinned her against the shut behind her, strong arms over her head? That was the million dollar question. But he couldn’t wait to find out.