He's Not My Husband

My husband leaves for work. Another day at the office, another day that I’m left by myself at the house.

I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. I can’t help the way I feel about him.

He works on our yard one day a week, and each day he comes I avoid talking to him as much as I can.

He makes me wet.

I catch him trimming the hedges – a gas powered hedge trimmer that rumbles and vibrates, but he’s strong enough to hold it. His muscles in his arms flex as he keeps his firm grip on it.

And sometimes I wish that machine was me. His firm grip upon my hips, my thighs… my neck even.

He has such big, strong hands.

I touch myself, run my fingers across my skin, pinch my nipples and squeeze my inner thighs; I imagine their his hands taking control of me.

He’s got tanned skin and sweat glistening on him. I take off his shirt, and he takes off his jeans with vigor, revealing his hardening bulge as he looks upon me with hunger.

Right there… on my husband’s bed.

I put my hand around my neck.

He puts his hand around my neck and pushes my down into the comforter. I’m naked underneath him – all his, at his every wish and command. He puts my hands up behind my head and spreads my legs apart with his knees.

He wants to feel the heat of my sex on his. I feel the tip of his penis against my slit – hard, throbbing, begging for my body. His breathing quickens. He grunts when he leans down, putting his weight onto me, pinning me completely to the bed.

“We don’t have long,” I tell him. “My husband will be home any minute.”

He pushes inside me, his cock filling me. I drip around him, my pussy squeezing him.

The front door opens. My husband is coming home. He’ll have his afternoon drink first downstairs.

“He’s home,” I say.

“I don’t care,” he moans.

He holds my hands down and kisses me to cover my mouth and keep me quiet. He thrusts forward, slowly, full control. I feel it deep inside me.

“I want you so bad,” he whispers. “I can’t pull away now. I have to have you now.” Right into my ear.

He holds my hands with one hand, and moves his other hand down, down to my clit. Two fingers gently around it. He wiggles it, short fast movements.

I start to moan.

“Be quiet,” he demands. He thrusts harder. “Be quiet so I can fuck you.”

My legs wrap around him and my breathing practically stops. I try to grab him, but he holds my hands down and keeps thrusting. I can’t take it. My pussy contracts around his hard cock. My body stiffens. I shake and quiver. I drip around his cock.

I stop day dreaming, then. He’s not there. Just me. In bed. Rubbing my pussy until I come. I put on a robe and walk to the window. He’s outside now, working on the hedges. He looks up at me and smiles. He waves, and I wave back.

Maybe I’ll invite him inside this time.