Marissa Weiss very much enjoyed her mid morning run. On that Monday, her trainers pounded the smooth, black asphalt of this suburban residential street, one of a vast network in her upper middle class neighborhood. Mature oaks, poplars and sycamores spread their generous canopies over lush, well tended yards, creating a forest in the outskirts of Atlanta.

The road wasn't anywhere near flat, with hills and dips that challenged Marissa to pound harder. She loved the exertion, her well toned frame taking the topography in stride. It wasn't a race, but Marissa had her own standards, and as her watch beeped, she knew she was right on track.

Summertime in Georgia was no joke. The day was already reaching the mid nineties at just shy of ten in the morning. Marissa panted and gasped up a particularly steep incline, her eyes to the ground as she worked her way up. You wouldn't think it to look at her, but this had become her favorite part of the run.

At the crest of the hill, Marissa stopped and paced in circles, hands on hips, chest heaving with every quick, panting breath. She'd stopped in front of a gorgeous Colonial style home. A wide, square-columned, covered porch invited residents and guests alike to take a break in any of its several rocking chairs. A magnolia anchored the left side of the house, cleverly hiding the driveway and garage. Flowers rioted in a number of beds from the porch to the street. It was a lovely home, really. Still, it wasn't the architecture that held her attention.

On the right side of the house, a work area had clearly been set up. A wheelbarrow held a mountain of smooth river rock and bags of soil were neatly stacked out of the way until needed. Tools were strewn in piles. Marissa smiled just a little as she peeked surreptitiously from behind her mirrored sun glasses at the very well built man, currently shirtless and wielding a pick ax. The Riley boy.

His name was Benjamin Thaddeus Riley. He was the son of Maggie and Don Riley, who lived at the house she currently stood before. Everyone in the neighborhood knew him as Benji, or the Riley boy. Growing up, he'd been very industrious, collecting lawn jobs from anyone who'd give him a chance. Marissa and her family had moved to the neighborhood when he'd been sixteen, and had enjoyed about a year of his service before he graduated high school and went off to college.

That was four years ago. He'd been home every break, helping his parents, working on projects to supplement his chosen career. Benji was studying landscape design. He had single-handedly designed and installed all of the planting beds in his parents' property. He was a truly impressive young man.

Marissa watched his strong, muscled back glisten in the hot sun as his arms bunched up and swung the pick ax again and again. Her pulse quickened and her core throbbed just a bit, as illicit thoughts of those muscles moving in entirely different ways invaded her mind. She couldn't see his face, but she imagined it taut with concentration, his jaw tight, air whooshing in and out through clenched teeth as he plowed her roughly against the side of the house, just behind the cypress tree.

“Good morning, Mrs. Weiss.”

A startled gasp was Marissa's reply as she came back to the present from her wicked fantasy and found Benji standing at the curb, a bottle of water in each hand. His smile was genuine and almost entirely wholesome. A little gleam in his eye was the only indication that he'd noticed Marissa's deep blush, made darker still by her recent exertion.

Clearing her throat, she smiled back and said, “Good morning, Benji. Hard at it again today, huh?”

He nodded, then offered her a bottle and tipped the other back into his mouth, taking a deep draught. His throat worked, and his Adam's apple bobbed with every gulp, and Marissa couldn't help but admire every inch of young, hard flesh on display. She was sure her lips were slightly parted in awe as he finished his drink and wiped his gorgeous mouth with the back of his hand.

Gesturing with his head, Benji said, “Would you like to come sit on the porch for a bit? I was going to take a break anyway, and it's really hot out here. You look like you could use a little break.”

She could have said no. Probably should have. Instead, she smiled and nodded, and followed Benji up the lawn to the inviting shade of the porch. It was nearly ten degrees cooler under the overhang. Benji sat in one of a pair of rockers at the end closest to the garage. The shade was deeper here, the large magnolia creating a partial screen from the street. It was by no means private, but an illusion of separation was evident. A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead.

Marissa sat in the other rocker, then cracked the water bottle open and took a sip. In truth, she wasn't at all in need of a break. She could have easily finished her run, then done the abdominal set she had scheduled for today. Her perverse side, though, couldn't say no to a sit down with Benji. Every day it went this way. She'd try to come up with stern reasons why she shouldn't sit with him, yet she'd always relent. Benji was her addiction.

He had always been a perfect gentleman. Never crass, always polite and staid. Funny, sure. Marissa thought of it as innocent. He exuded a kind of innocence that, along with his devastatingly good looks and impressive physique, drew her like a moth to a flame. It didn't matter that she was married, that she had two children away at summer camp, that she was twenty-three years his senior. Nothing seemed to matter when she was with Benji, except him. It worried her sometimes, but not while she was with him.

He smiled and asked, “So how's your run today, Mrs. Weiss?”

Marissa pursed her lips and tsked. “Benji, how many times have I told you. Call me Marissa.”

He chuckled. “My mom would kill me, Mrs. Weiss.”

“She doesn't have to know, does she?” Marissa smiled. She enjoyed teasing him about his propriety sometimes. “How are they, by the way?”

Benji grinned. “Talked to them last night. They're in Singapore. They're really enjoying their trip. I think they're headed to Thailand, then China and Japan, before taking a ship to Hawaii.”

Marissa leaned back and crossed her legs, lightly rocking. “That sounds so adventurous. Your parents are amazing, hon. Will they be gone all summer?”

That grin flashed again, and Marissa could have sworn she caught something just this side of wicked in the gesture. “Yeah. Another six weeks. Plenty of time to get that bed done. It's a surprise for my mom. She loves tulips. I'm going to set a ton of bulbs for her, so next Spring she'll get a very pretty crop of them.”

“Aww, Benji, that's so thoughtful.” Marissa took another sip of her water, then set it down on a short table. With a teasing smile, she said, “You planning on having any wild parties while they're gone?”

Benji, chuckled, looked down at his lap, then up, catching and holding her eyes. It was a penetrating stare, and Marissa suddenly felt very warm and a little breathless. He smiled a knowing smile and said, “Maybe one.”

Marissa looked away, down, pressing her lips together and trying to calm her response to what she was sure was a guileless comment. Her nether region was tingling, and she wanted to stand up, sit on Benji's lap and show him how she was feeling. It was pure insanity.

She panicked. Marissa stood in a quick, awkward move, her hands smoothing down the sides of her tight running tank and over her very brief, airy running shorts. She could feel a definite current of need coursing just beneath her skin.

“I should go.” She smiled nervously and looked in Benji's general direction, not meeting his eyes. “You enjoy the rest of your day, Benji.”

As she turned to face the porch steps, Benji's hand wrapped around her wrist. She stilled, looked back at the connection, his big hand making her wrist look delicate. Sparkling firecrackers of sensation burst up her forearm and into her shoulder. Marissa took a deep breath, her lips slightly ajar as she looked back at him. He wasn't smiling, his eyes intense green pools that dragged her into their depths.

“You'll come back tomorrow.” It wasn't a question. Benji's gaze burrowed into her, sending delicious current streaking through her, into her belly, deeper still. Marissa couldn't believe everything he was implying with the quiet demand. The gentle caress of his thumb on her sensitive skin drew a quiet, strangled moan, and Marissa felt her folds flood. She nodded and he released her.

Marissa felt like a hare running from a cunning, determined hunter as she took the porch steps two at a time and jogged her way to the street. She refused to look back, but felt Benji's stare until she turned the next corner. The rest of her run was disjointed and unfulfilling. Her heart was beating too fast, and her breathing came too quickly. Adrenalin and endorphins crashed through her blood stream, making her muscles jittery. Worse, her little clit piercing kept catching the seam of her shorts through her sheer thong, tugging her already aroused nub into nearly painful sensitivity.

She was needy as hell when she finally made it home. The kitchen door was unceremoniously slammed shut, and she bypassed the fridge with its bottled water. Kicking up the stairs, Marissa barreled into the master bedroom and stripped. Everything came off. Finally naked, she stepped in front of the full length mirror. Her entire body was flushed and covered in a fine layer of sweat. Peaked nipples adorned her full, well shaped breasts, and the blush around her hairless mound was darker than anywhere else.

Biting her lip, Marissa spread her legs and touched herself, gasping at the first knowing touch of her eager fingers. Her other hand caught a nipple and twisted it as she slicked her nub with her copious fluids, then began swirling around the sensitized flesh. The little silver piercing glinted with every revolution of her finger. Marissa watched herself touch and arouse. She moaned as her fingers found their way into her sopping wet channel. Her jaw went slack as she thrust deep, fingers curling and pressing against that perfect spot.

Again and again, Marissa thrust and pressed, gasping and moaning as she watched the wanton woman in the mirror become a needy slut. She wanted to be fucked. Needed it, like she needed air. Closing her eyes, Marissa imagined it was Benji's fingers, his hand on her tit, driving her mad. She created his voice in her head, encouraging her with filthy suggestions, fantasizing about his hard, insistent cock pressing to the curve of her ass, promising her the fuck of her life if she would only come on his fingers.

“Fuck!” she cried out, as she felt that glorious edge approach. Marissa wanted to prolong the sensation, to live in that flashpoint, teetering on the brink of ultimate satisfaction. She didn't have the control for it, though. Not then. Her fingers worked furiously, squelching noisily into her dripping pussy, her other hand rubbing feverishly at her pulsing little nub. She couldn't stop it.

Marissa came on a groaning exhale. The intensity doubled her over, bringing her to her knees in front of the mirror as waves of pure bliss blinded her to everything around her. She gasped and moaned, grunting with every contraction. Her fingers had mostly lost their rhythm and now just moved to prolong the delight. Eventually, she slumped over, pressing her cheek to the carpeting, her arms trapped beneath her heaving chest. She was entirely spent, and yet, her pussy pulsed, eager for the promised fuck, even if it was only in her mind.

Some time later, Marissa stirred. She knelt up, extracting her sore arms from beneath her body, then pulling her fingers from herself. She was a mess. The image staring back at her in the mirror didn't even look like her. Feeling guilty, Marissa looked away. How could she still want more? Sighing, she made her way onto her feet, then gingerly padded into the bathroom. She wasn't entirely sure what would happen tomorrow, and she felt entirely powerless to stop it.

***

Tuesday felt like it would be another scorcher. Marissa focused on breathing with her steps, trying to keep her growing anxiety from tripping up her progress. She could already tell that she was running faster than usual. Butterflies flapped insidiously in her chest, her abdomen, making her feel vaguely sick. It was an odd, not entirely unpleasant sensation.

She'd considered altering her route, so she wouldn't go by the Riley house. There were a million different ways to make up the mileage. She didn't ever have to go by that house again. She never had to see Benji again. Marissa came to the turn for his street and wasn't really surprised when she took it.

'What the hell am I doing?' she thought to herself. Marissa thought back to the day before, to the look in Benji's eyes and the way he'd gripped her wrist. She didn't think she'd imagined the blatantly carnal stare. 'I could be that boy's mom!' Sure, at forty-four she still looked great in a tight little black dress, but she knew better than to encourage a twenty-one-year-old. All of that, on top of which she was married. Was she really going to cheat on her husband with the Riley boy?

Her thoughts whirled in her head, fueling her screaming muscles and her burning lungs up the punishing hill. At the top, she stopped and leaned her hands on her knees, panting heavily. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mind was a noisy storm of lascivious thoughts, recriminations and emotion. It took her a few minutes to catch her breath. When she could finally speak, she mumbled a quiet, “Fuck,” before she realized she wasn't alone.

Benji was standing at the curb, a bottle of water in one hand. Shirtless and glistening with sweat, he wasn't smiling. The look in his eyes melted her core instantly and quieted all of the conflicting voices in her mind, save one. All Marissa could think of now was having him. She walked to him slowly, and when she stood not a foot away, she held out her hand.

“Can I have that?” Her voice sounded smokey, sultry. She wasn't entirely sure it was her speaking.

Benji shook his head. “After.”

Marissa's next words came out in a breathy whisper. “After what?” She felt like she was drowning, unable to get enough air into lungs that were no longer interested in working.

She watched his face change. His lips curved up into a dark, wicked smile, while his eyes remained depths of potential depravity. Benji reached out, wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged her towards the house. Marissa's heart tripped in her chest, and she darted looks left and right, imagining all the surrounding neighbors peeking through their blinds at them. The thought of being seen only fueled her already rampant need.

He went for the porch, taking the steps two at a time. Marissa struggled to keep up with his longer, faster gait, then gasped as she was bodily turned and pressed to the hard brick of the house. Benji leaned in, hands pressed to the wall on either side of her. His rough jeans rubbed against Marissa's thighs, making her tremble with anticipation. She felt his breath on her ear and inhaled his scent. It was nothing but arousing. He smelled of soap, sweat, dirt and irresistible man.

“I've been thinking about this for days.” Benji nearly growled the words, his biceps flexing strongly as he leaned in further and rubbed his bare chest to Marissa's tight top. He nipped at her earlobe, drawing a surprised gasp from her. “I know you want this, too.”

Marissa's head was swimming. The desire to take what was being offered was so great, and yet her conscience was still trying to make an argument against it. Squirming against Benji, she uttered a quiet mewl and said, “God. Shit, Benji...” She gasped again, this time as his mouth lay claim to her throat. His teeth nipped and his tongue licked at her dewy skin. Marissa moaned and tilted her head, baring her neck to his ministrations. “We shouldn't. It's not right... fuck!” Benji's hands were on her thighs, his fingers trailing slowly up.

“Spread your legs, Mrs.

Marissa suddenly couldn't breathe. His fingers were just lingering, the tips teasing her inflamed lips, spreading her generous fluids up and around her vulva. She jumped and gasped when he so innocently flicked his finger over her tender nub, then heard an inhaled “ohh” when he found the piercing, whimpering as he pinched and tugged at it.

“You're so naughty, Mrs. Weiss. No panties and a piercing?” Benji's hand cupped Marissa's chin, tilting her face so he could look in her eyes, then at her mouth and back up. Marissa was entirely under his spell, her lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten her tingling lips. Benji leaned in, his lips grazing hers as he whispered, “You're such a gorgeous slut, Mrs. Weiss.” He bit her lower lip, tugged, and as Marissa panted a moan, he took her lips in a devastatingly drugging kiss, while his fingers continued to tease and torment her pussy.

Marissa kissed him back desperately, her hands fluttering like startled birds over his chest, his sides, unsure of where to alight. She stood on tip toe, her hips curling out, offering her most intimate self to the delving fingers of this wickedly capable young man. She wanted this.

“You want this,” he said against her lips, as if he could read her mind, his fingers reaching her slit and swirling against her entrance. Marissa groaned, her hands finding purchase on his arms and gripping tight. She was much closer to climax than she thought was even possible. Her breath trembled in and out, and all she could do was nod as she sipped at Benji's smiling lips. “Say it.”

Marissa took a few shallow breaths, finally stuttering, “I w-want this.” His fingers stilled, and Marissa could have screamed. Then she breathed as the tips of two fingers pressed and retreated shallowly into her core.

“What do you want, Mrs. Weiss? Tell me.” His fingers were just barely fucking her, and it was driving her crazy. She wanted him to fuck her properly, shove those fingers deep and let her clench and convulse around them.

“Please, Benji.”

“Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

Marissa groaned with frustration and need, her fingernails digging into his arms as she tried in vain to impale herself on his fingers. When his fingers found her piercing and deftly tugged it into frenzied stimulation, Marissa gasped and gave in. “Fuck, Benji. Fuck, please, fuck me with your fingers. Please, now. Please...”

He growled, and as his thick fingers invaded her hot, ready cunt, his teeth found purchase on her neck, biting her as he began a slow, deep, thrusting rhythm into her tightening channel. Marissa's hips matched his pace, and she held on for dear life as his thumb applied steady pressure to her clit.

She could do nothing but ride the unrelenting wave of pleasure as Benji fucked her right there, on his parents' front porch. Marissa didn't care. This hot, sexy man had his fingers buried to the hilt in her, and she was going to ride them until she came all over him.

“You're going to come all over my fingers, you sexy bitch. That's right, ride them like the slut you are.” His words inflamed, her eager pussy tightening around his fingers. “You're going to come for me like this, right here. And then I'm going to fuck you so hard. Do you want my cock in you, Mrs. Weiss?”

The image of him bending her over the bench on the porch and roughly taking her sent Marissa over the edge. She cried out, then was muffled by his lips as she milked his fingers in one of the most intense orgasms she'd had in her life. Her legs gave out, and she would have slid to the porch floor if he hadn't been holding her up. Little panting mewls escaped with every breath as Benji slowed his fingers, stroking her sensitive cunt, his thumb an unrelenting stimulant for her little bud.

“You're a fucking natural, Mrs. Weiss,” whispered Benji into Marissa's ear. She moaned and shivered, still out of breath. Her mind was trying to catch up with recent events, yet it was unable to consolidate this dominating sex god with the wholesome, innocent seeming boy she'd known in the past. That image was well and truly shattered.

Marissa whooshed a groan as Benji withdrew his fingers, closing her eyes and letting her head hit the brick behind her lightly. They opened back up almost immediately, when she felt and smelled her sticky, sweet cum on her lip. His finger was slicking over her bottom lip, and it made Marissa gasp.

“Clean them up, Mrs. Weiss.” Benji inserted his fingers into her mouth, and Marissa could do nothing but close around them, sucking and licking them clean of her nectar. It was incredibly erotic to her, the way he stared into her eyes as she bathed his fingers. He stroked her tongue with the pads of his fingers, then withdrew them. “Very good. Fuck, you're sexy.”

Marissa blushed. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Suddenly feeling very exposed and not a little bit embarrassed, she looked away from him and tried to push him away. Benji held on, though, his strong hands coming to rest gently around her neck, thumbs pressing her chin up. Marissa looked back, frowning a little as she pressed her hands to the brick.

Marissa stared, slack jawed. Her words were a whisper when she finally said, “Who the fuck are you?”

Then, the most amazing thing happened. Benji smiled widely, and Marissa saw the same innocent, wholesome look that had always been there. The dominant sex god had vanished in the blink of an eye.

“You know who I am, Mrs. Weiss. I'm the Riley Boy.” Then the predatory gleam came back into his eyes before he took her lips in a deep, drugging, ruthless kiss that once again left her weak kneed.

***

Saturday morning awoke heavy with rain clouds. A summer storm had moved in overnight. Marissa stood at the kitchen island, staring out the window at the rain. It was just a drizzle at the moment, and she watched how the droplets worked their way down the copper rain chain that lead from the gutter to the dry rock bed below.

Her thoughts were the same as they had been for the last three days. She could do nothing but relive Tuesday's indiscretions with Benji. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of his fingers driving her to that delicious, unbelievable orgasm. Her blush deepened when she recalled how he'd turned her to face the brick, pulled her shorts down, then eagerly splayed her ass cheeks and licked his way down the crease. He'd laved her pucker, then continued on to thoroughly tongue fuck her pussy.

Marissa's pulse beat erratically and her breathing was unsteady as she remembered the sound of his zipper, the rustle of his jeans. She covered her face with her hands and nearly moaned out loud at the recollection of his thick, blunt tipped cock pressing between her ready, swollen lips, filling her completely in one hard thrust. She'd come all over him then, loudly, uncaring who heard, if anyone saw. Her orgasm hadn't abated until after he'd grunted and sworn, emptying himself into her well used snatch.

They had stayed there, her cheek pressed against the rough brick, both panting and sweating after their wild rut. Then, Marissa had been galvanized into panicked action when Benji leaned in and whispered, “Fuck, Mrs. Weiss. I just knew there was a desperate slut under all that polish.” She was mortified, in the grip of endless embarrassment. There was a chuckle in his voice as he continued, “I really hope we get to do this again.”

On a strangled cry, she'd finally managed to shove him off. A quick, clumsy move had her banging her head into the wall as she'd pulled up her shorts, then she'd shot off the porch like the hounds of Hell had been chasing her. The last thing she'd heard before hitting the pavement was Benji's chuckle turning into a laugh.

Marissa hadn't been back. She'd changed her running route, added an extra mile and a half because she seemed to need the exertion. It was unknown how many times she'd masturbated over the last three days, reliving the insanity of those moments. Even now, her pussy throbbed, aching to be used. Marissa sighed into her hands, a little squeak the only indication to the scream in her mind. God help her, she wanted the Riley boy to fuck her senseless again.

The hands that came down on her shoulders and began massaging her tightly knotted muscles startled her so much that she actually jumped.

“Woah, baby! Didn't mean to scare you,” said Patrick. Marissa's guilt skyrocketed. Her sweet, loving husband. He was the best man she knew – kind, intelligent, handsome and still pretty sexy for forty-five.

He pressed up behind her, hands skimming down her arms, then sliding under them to wrap her in an intimate hug. His thumbs caressed the undersides of her breasts and his half hard cock nudged at her rear.

Nipping at her ear, his hands came to fully cup her generous breasts, finding her nipples already stiff and peaked. With a chuckle, he said, “I've been dreaming about this sexy body all week long. God, I want you.” As the head of surgery at Piedmont Hospital, Patrick spent most of the week away. The weekends were their couple time, yet here she was, remembering another man's hands on her.

Her body responded to Patrick's touch, her core heating as she rubbed her ass to his growing erection with unrestrained desire. She needed a fuck, and Patrick would make sure she was taken care of. It was odd. Marissa was entirely attracted to Patrick. They had a good, healthy sex life. Maybe it was a little routine, but there was no doubt they both enjoyed themselves. Still, as his hands and mouth aroused her, Marissa's thoughts betrayed her with brightly illustrated, graphic reminders of Benji. She moaned, needy for release, the cognitive dissonance in her mind a confusing background to the desire firing through her body.

This time, the peal of the doorbell made them both jump. Patrick swore, then chuckled. “Guess we'll have to wait a little bit to finish that. I've got a surprise for you.” He gave her nipples one final pinch, then moved off to answer the door.

Marissa's breathing wasn't steady at all. She stood in the kitchen, leaning against the island with a million recriminatory thoughts screaming in her mind. She focused on calming herself, incorporating some yoga breathing exercises she'd learned years ago but rarely used. Just as she'd managed a bit of control, she heard Patrick call for her. She brushed her hands down her soft heather gray cotton shirt and smoothed down her shorts, then walked to the front parlor.

When she came into the room, Marissa felt the floor shift dangerously under her feet. Sitting on the small love seat, as comfortable as could be, was Benji. He and Patrick seemed to be discussing something laid out on the coffee table between them. She must have made some small noise, because both men looked up at her simultaneously. Patrick grinned from ear to ear and said, “Surprise!”

Marissa didn't know what to do. She didn't know where to look or what to say. Just then, she was the definition of 'deer in headlights'. Her eyes were fixed on Patrick's, and she was afraid that there was something like panic showing. He didn't seem to notice, though.

“Come look at your surprise!” he said, beckoning her closer.

Marissa spared Benji one small glance. He seemed absolutely normal, as if he hadn't plowed her senseless not three days ago. Then, she moved to look at what was laid out on the table. It was a landscape plan of their property, beautifully rendered, with a few additions that she and Patrick had talked about for years but had never done.

“Isn't it great? I contracted Benji to design and install a few features into the landscape, like we've talked about. He says he can have it done by the end of summer.” Patrick tugged on her hand and directed to sit on the love seat next to Benji. “Here, sit and look.”

Marissa went hot, then cold, and every temperature in between. Her knees shook as she took the seat next to her lover while her husband looked on from the wing back chair opposite. She focused her eyes on the plan, but managed to see nothing. Trying to ignore the wildly tingling skin on the side of her body closest to Benji, Marissa leaned over the drawing, tucking her hair behind her ears. She made some hopefully affirmative noises that seemed to appease Patrick.

“So you'll start on Monday, right?” said Patrick.

Marissa looked up at him, eyes wide. He must have taken her trepidation for excitement.

Benji shifted next to her, leaning in to look at the drawing. His leg brushed her knee and Marissa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning.

He replied, “Yeah, I can start Monday. I'll need the money for materials, though, so I can be here and ready to work then.”

“No problem,” said Patrick. “I'll go get my check book. Talk to Marissa about the plans! I know she'll love all of it.” He smiled, then left them alone.

As soon as he'd gone out of ear shot, Marissa whispered, “What the fuck, Benji?” Her eyes darted to his, the blush deepening in her cheeks at the eye contact.

His low chuckle was deep, somehow dark. “Oh, Mrs. Weiss. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to working for you.” His fingertips skimmed her bare knee, trailing to the inside of her thigh. Marissa gasped.

“Stop, you can't!” she hissed, but made no move to remove his teasing fingers. “When did Patrick hire you?” her voice was breathy, high pitched. Her hands gripped the cushion with white knuckled intensity, the skin of her thigh bursting into goosebumps as Benji continued to draw a path up her leg.

Benji leaned close, his breath skimming her ear as he brazenly slid his hand under the hem of her loose fitting shorts. “Two weeks ago.” He nipped at her lobe with his teeth, then asked, “Are you wet, Mrs. Weiss?”

Marissa jumped when his fingers grazed the gusset of her panties, shamefully aware that they were soaked through. As his fingers stroked and pressed at her swollen labia and clit through her panties, Marissa did everything in her power to not make a sound.

“Mmm, you're such a fucking perfect slut. You're going to let Mr. Weiss fuck you when I leave, aren't you? 'Cause you're such a good slut.” He stroked her inflamed sex, drawing a hiccuped gasp from her. “You're gonna come and come for him, but I want you thinking about this. About how I could make you come right now. You're gonna think about how I felt inside you, ramming my cock into that well slicked pussy. You're going to give him the fuck of his life, Mrs. Weiss.”

Marissa was trembling badly. She was so close to coming. It was all insane. This was her home, her husband would be coming back any moment, and this young stud had his fingers on her snatch.

“Say it, Mrs Weiss. Say that's what you'll do,” demanded Benji, his fingers bringing her exquisite torture.

Marissa gasped, then said in a rush, “Yes, yes, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to give him the best fuck he's ever had. And...” she faltered, then continued as his fingers pressed the sopping wet material between her lips, “... and I'm going to think of you while he does it.”

Benji chuckled darkly, then his fingers were gone, leaving Marissa on the edge of release. “Good slut. I can't wait for Monday.” He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled, exhaling with a quiet groan.

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and moments later, Patrick was back, checkbook in hand.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes I can't remember where I put anything,” he said. Marissa was hugging herself, leaning over the drawings, trying to calm her flaming blush. Benji was pointing at something on the plans, pretending he hadn't just nearly made her come. He looked up at Patrick, his face breaking out into a wide, guileless grin.

“She loves it. This is going to be great, Mr. Weiss. I can't wait to get started.”