Forbidden and Sinful desires

Her hips lingered in my head, occupying my mind and flooding my thoughts. I threw my pen onto the ground, unable to concentrate on my work because now my mind was tied to my neighbor. She had a curvy, sexy figure that could make anyone horny from just staring. She was a married woman, older than me by four years, but I couldn't bring myself to stop thinking of her ass or her big t**s. Ding dong. The sound of the doorbell chimed, and I guessed it was the pizza guy here to deliver the order I'd placed earlier. I opened the door without even checking. It wasn't the pizza guy I thought it was. Instead, it was my neighbor, the one who'd been living rent-free in my head for a while. She was wearing a thin silk robe that hung loosely open at the top, exposing the deep valley of her cleavage. Her full breasts strained against the fabric like they were begging to be freed. Her legs were bare, smooth thighs peeking out from the hem, leading up to her sacred spot. I gulped, shifting my gaze to the project I'd been working on for days, trying to keep myself distracted. But it wasn't helping, not even one bit. “Hey, Ethan,” she greeted. Her voice was sultry, my name rolling off her tongue like a prayer, low and husky, sending a shiver down my spine. “Hey,” I replied. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I could feel my buddy down there twitching in my pants, hardening against the denim like it had a mind of its own. I heard the click of the lock. Oh s**t! She just locked the door. I didn't know how much longer I could last, staying in the same room with her in that robe, with the doors sealed shut. My d**k was already fully erect, throbbing with the filthy possibilities racing through my head, as I desperately tried to fix my gaze anywhere but her sexy body. The curve of her hip, the way her n*****s poked through the silk like dark, ripe cherries. “f**k,” I breathed as I felt her soft palm slide over my d**k through my pants. Her fingers traced the rigid outline with a teasing pressure that made my knees buckle. My patience snapped, and I couldn't bear this torture anymore. I grabbed her wrist, not to stop her, but to pull her closer. My other hand fisted in the front of her robe, yanking it open just enough to reveal one heavy breast spilling free, the n****e already peaked and begging for my mouth. But then she pulled back slightly, her hand still cupping me through the fabric. She squeezed just enough to make me groan. Her eyes, dark with desires, and filled with guilt, her eyes locked onto mine. “Ethan... wait. We can't. I'm married, you know that. This... this is wrong.” Her words hit like a splash of cold water, but her touch didn't stop. She stroked me slowly and deliberately. Her thumb circled the head of my c**k through the barrier of my jeans, making pre-c*m leak and soak into the cotton. My breath came in ragged bursts, my hips bucking involuntarily into her hand. “Then why are you here? Why'd you lock the door? Why are you... fuck... touching me like that?” She bit her lip, her free hand trailed up her own body, cupping the breast I'd exposed. She pinched the n****e until it darkened further, a soft whimper escaping her throat. “God, Ethan, I've seen the way you look at me. The way you stare when I'm hanging laundry in the yard, my ass bent over like this.” She turned slightly, arching her back to demonstrate. The robe slipped lower, baring the top of her ass cheeks, round and firm, the kind that jiggled just right with every step. “I shouldn't want this. I have a husband, but... he doesn't touch me anymore. Doesn't touch me like I need. It's been months since he's even tried, and when he does, it's quick, and mechanical.” Her confession was raw and pitiful…her husband was really missing a lot. Her hand worked my zipper down now, freeing my c**k into the cool air of the room. It sprang out, thick and veined, the tip shining with need. She wrapped her fingers around me, it was soft, warm, and she pumped it twice. Her grip tightened as her eyes glowed with hunger. “I always catch you watching, and it makes me wet. It makes me ache. Just this once, Ethan. Please, make me feel wanted and make me come like he never does.” That was all it took, and her hesitation crumbled and now she was her pleading, the scent of her arousal coming from between her thighs. It smelt musky, like a forbidden fruit. I crashed my mouth to hers, devouring her with a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. I tasted the wine on her breath and the desperation in her sighs. She moaned into me, her body melting against mine. Her robe fell open completely as my hands roamed, gripping her ass, kneading the plump flesh until my fingers dug into it, brushing the damp heat of her p***y lips. I spun her around, bending her over the arm of my couch, the same one where I'd been pretending to work just minutes ago. Her robe pooled at her feet, leaving her gloriously naked. Her ass presented like a gift, full, heart-shaped, with a faint tan line from some forgotten beach day. I dropped to my knees behind her, spreading her cheeks wide, exposing her completely: her puckered hole winking above the slick, swollen folds of her cunt, already dripping, strings of arousal stretching between her thighs. “Jesus, you're soaked,” I growled. I leaned in to drag my tongue flat along her slit, from her c**t to entrance, savoring the salty-sweet tang of her. She bucked back against my face,a pleasurable cry tearing from her throat as I lavished her like a starving man. I circled her c**t with the tip of my tongue, then sucked it between my lips, flicking it relentlessly until her legs trembled. “He doesn't do this? Doesn't eat this pretty p***y until you're screaming?” “No,” she gasped. Her fingers clawed at the cushions, hips grinding back for more. “Never. Oh God, Ethan, don't stop. Your tongue... it's so f*****g good.” I plunged two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spongy spot deep within, pumping in time with my mouth's assault on her c**t. She clenched around me, hot and velvet-tight, her walls fluttering as I added a third finger, stretching her. Juices coated my hand, dripping down my wrist, and I drank her greedily, humming against her folds until she shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her like a storm, and her thighs were trembling, a gush of wetness flooding my mouth as she sobbed my name. But I wasn't done with her yet. I stood, fisting my c**k, still slick from her hand, and lined it at her entrance. I rubbed the head through her folds, teasing her oversensitive c**t until she begged. “Please... f**k me. I need it. Need you so deep I’ll feel it for days.” With one brutal thrust, I buried myself into her. Her cunt swallowed me whole, she was so tight and wet it nearly undid me right there. She was silk around me, every inch of her pulsing, pulling me deeper as I set a punishing rhythm. I slammed into her, my hips slapping against her ass with wet smacks that echoed in the room. Her t**s swung beneath her, and I reached around to grab one, rolling the n****e between my fingers, then the other, pinching hard enough to make her yelp and clench harder around my d**k. “Like this?” I grunted. I angled my hips to grind against her G-spot with every plunge, my balls tightening as her ass rippled with each impact. “This is what you need? A real c**k stretching this married p***y?” “Yes. f**k, yes!” she wailed, pushing back to meet me. Her body was full of curves and heat, sweat-slicked skin sliding against mine. I leaned over her, biting the nape of her neck. One hand snaked down to rub circles on her c**t as I pounded deeper, faster, the coil in my gut winding tighter. She came again but this time it was more intense. Her walls milked me in rhythmic spasms, a fresh flood of cream coating my shaft as she thrashed, screaming into the cushions. I pulled at the last second and came on her ass. My hot c*m painted her ass cheeks and lower back, marking her as mine in this stolen moment. We collapsed together, panting. Her body was limp and glowing, and my arms wrapped around her waist.