I just pulled into the driveway, completely naked beneath my sundress, my thighs trembling and my panties absolutely soaked in the passenger seat where I'd tossed them. Three hours ago I was ordering a venti latte at Starbucks, making small talk with this tall, built guy in line who couldn't stop staring at my wedding ring. Now his cum was slowly leaking out of me, making me feel filthy and satisfied in the best way.

The sex was brutal—he had me bent over the backseat of his SUV in the parking garage, pounding me so hard the windows fogged up and my knees got carpet burn. I came three times before he finally unloaded deep inside me, filling me up until I felt swollen and claimed. He kept me there another twenty minutes, fucking me again until I was limp and dripping.

I could hear the lawnmower running as I walked up to the house, my pussy throbbing and tender with every step. My husband was out back, cutting the grass in his old college t-shirt, completely unaware that another man's seed was currently coating my insides.

I stepped onto the back patio and waved him over. He killed the engine and wiped sweat from his forehead, smiling at me. "Hey, babe. Back from your coffee run?"

"Turn off the mower and come inside," I said, my voice still husky from all the moaning I'd done. "I need you to take care of something for me."

He followed me into the kitchen, and I didn't stop there. I led him straight to our bedroom, stripping off my dress and letting it fall to the floor in the hallway. By the time I crawled onto our marital bed, I was completely naked, leaving a trail of his humiliation behind me. I rolled onto my back and spread my legs wide, giving him a full view of my messy, well-fucked pussy—puffy, reddened, and glistening with another man's load under the bedroom lights.

"Look at what he did to me," I taunted, running my fingers through my swollen folds and holding them up, coated and sticky. "He stretched me out so good. I can still feel him inside me."

My husband stood there frozen, aching and hard in his jeans, watching as I dipped two fingers inside myself, scooping out more of that thick cream. I held them toward him, dripping onto our sheets.

"Get on your knees and clean your wife's pussy," I ordered. "He fucked me raw and came deep inside me—twice. Now you're going to lick up every drop and maybe if you're thorough, I'll let you try to fuck what's left."

He scrambled onto the bed, burying his face between my thighs with desperate enthusiasm, moaning as he tasted me—tasted him. I grabbed his hair and pulled him in tighter, groaning as his tongue finally made proper contact, eagerly lapping up every thick rope of cum that man had deposited in me. He sucked and swallowed like his life depended on it, worshipping my used cunt with his mouth while I laughed and ground against his face.

"That's it," I breathed, grinding harder, using him. "Get it all out. He fucked me so much better than you ever could. This is all you're good for now—cleaning up the mess real men leave behind."

He only licked harder, his whimpers vibrating against my sensitive clit as I came against his mouth one more time, already planning which Starbucks I'd hit up tomorrow.