He wasn't quite sure how he found himself in the situation he was currently in, sitting across the living room from a stunning young woman. They had flirted in the bar and back then it was okay because that's as far as it would go and he would never see her again. He was pretty sure she had even given him a fake name. Now she was here, her friend and his fucking in the bedroom down the hall, the sounds making him hard.

She took a sip of her wine, looking up at him over her phone. She was beautiful, exotic, black hair and dark brown eyes, a full pout stamped in red.

"What?" she asked as she put her phone down.

"Nothing," he replied with a shrug finishing the rest of his beer.

"Might as well get another, she can go for hours.”

"Jesus. It's 2:00 in the morning already.”

"Go to sleep. I promise I can entertain myself.”

"Your husband doesn't care?”

"That I'm out this late?”

He nodded as he went to the fridge and grabbed another beer.

"I'm sure he'll be irritated but nothing a blow job cant fix." Nick stopped and stared at her as she continued reading on her phone, some historical memoir of Catherine the Great. She had a fascination with female historical figures if he remembered correctly. She looked up at him again, that same teasing playful look that hooked him earlier.

"How's the book?" he asked as he sat back down reminding himself he had a wife and a family.

"I'm writing actually.”

"The thriller you're working on?”

"No. A short story.”

Sex, he thought as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her hands following it down her neck. He saw her pale skin that looked luminescent in the muted light of the lamp next to her. He swore she smirked when he swallowed loudly. They'd performed this routine in the bar earlier, trading leading looks and secret smiles. He remembered her hand resting on his thigh, the adrenaline and fear pulsing through him. It was in that moment he realized just what she was doing. A slow play. She was subtle in her flirting but it was a game. She told him how much she loved her husband but it was only to heighten the intensity of their exchange.

"Do you want to fuck me?" he asked blatantly, tired of her mind games.

"You know I do," she replied as she put her phone down. "But I would've gone home and fucked my husband to the fantasy of you and this.”

“Really?"

"What you and I did, what we're doing now, that's foreplay to me." 

"What would be your fantasy?" 

"Do you really want to know?”

He knew he should say no but she was taking her leather jacket off and taking her hair down, the ends brushing right where her nipples were. Writing was what she was good at, and he figured she could whip up a fantasy that would make him question everything about himself. She stood, walking over to him, kicking off her heels until she was curled next to him in just her little black dress. He took a deep breath in and looked over at her. She had a genuine smile as she ran a finger over his wedding ring. 

"I'll just talk. Think of it as an audiobook. You can close your eyes if you want." He stared at her as he struggled to decide, her expression now stripped of confidence and danger. She was nothing but desperate need. He closed his eyes. 

"I hadn't been out in so long, dressed up, my hair curled, and my make up done. I hadn't been admired and looked at in forever. When I met my husband, I was so happy to find a medium between need and want. People underestimate the feeling of stability. But sometimes I miss the chaos. I underestimated what its like to go from one extreme to the next. Some days I feel safe. Some days I can't feel anything at all. And then tonight, I met you. You were the only one not blatantly staring at me, fishing for attention. You had looked a couple times but I loved the reserved almost arrogant way you watched everyone else, the bored expression you wore as your friend eye fucked everyone in the building. I saw your wedding ring and felt a jolt of feeling I hadn't felt in a long time. You checked the expensive watch on your wrist and I imagined you at your desk, me beneath it with your cock in my mouth.”

He opened his eyes and looked her. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back against the cushion. 

"Close your eyes," she ordered but he didn't want to anymore. He wanted to watch her say these things. She looked at him finally and he found her absurdly vulnerable. She had told him she never showed anyone her rough drafts of writing, that she was too sensitive at that stage. 

"Keep going," he told her.

"I've always loved the ominous feeling of wanting to sleep with a married man but I didn't want an eager one. All the Ashley Madison's might as well be my husband for all the work I have to put in. I want someone to risk everything for me and only me. I want to work for my meat before I put it in my mouth." 

She licked her lips, her eyes still closed and he let his hand fall to his cock, hard and unyielding under his pants. 

"Take it out please," she begged as she moved and straddled his thighs her arms caging him in, her lips right at his ear. His heart pounded in his chest almost painfully as he unzipped and pulled his cock out. He almost came when she moaned in his ear. 

"I won't look, and I won't touch.”

He stroked himself as she said it, her bare shoulder an inch away from his lips. He wanted to bite her, for all the shit she had sprung on him, the adrenaline, fear and guilt but mainly the arousal. He had never been so fucking hard in his life. 

"Keep talking." 

"You were on guard when my friend approached your table. She's what my grandmother would call a liability friend but its why I like going out with her. She's fun and not personally offended if I flirt or dance. Did I ask her to go over to you? Did I claim you before she did?" 

The wet heat of her breath and the smell of her skin drove him crazy. He dragged his thumb over the precum and spread it up and down the sensitive skin of his cock. Her hips were moving over his thighs slowly, restrained. 

"Did you?" He asked, his voice hoarse. 

"Yes," she half sighed, half moaned. His breathing grew fast as he let his head fall back until it was just them under the veil of her hair. 

"What did you want me to do to you?" Her eyes dropped shyly and he gripped her chin in his head. 

"Don't play shy. It doesn't suit you anymore. What did you want?" Her eyes were bold as she met his. 

"I wanted you to take me into the bathroom, shove me against the dirty wall written with dirty things. I wanted you to pull my panties to the side and shove your fingers inside me. I wanted your wedding ring pressed against my clit as I came. I want your wedding ring against the pulse of my neck as you fucked me. I want your wedding ring in my mouth when you shove your fingers in there to shut me up as I came.”

"Jesus Christ," he moaned as he came, gripping her chin so hard to keep her from moving. He knew what she wanted, could feel her wanting to get on her knees and have his cum and cock in her mouth but she was no longer in charge now. She wanted to work for it. He was going to make sure she fucking did. It was a long time since he felt freedom with sex, not having to indulge his wife with her fucking excuses or her ever-expanding lists of things she's too tired to do. 

"Take your underwear off," he told her, smiling at the angry little pout she wore. 

"You can have my cum soon but only if you're a naughty girl for me," she kissed him, her teeth biting down on his lip, her nails digging into the skin of his neck. He grabbed her hair and guided her back until she was flat on her back on the couch. 

"That's not fair.”

"Fuck off. You've been planning this all night. If I'm going to cheat on my wife, you better make it fucking worth it. This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?" 

"Yes," she breathed as she slid her panties down. He held her chest down with one arm as he removed them the rest of the way. 

"Spread your legs." 

She did as he said, her creamy thighs meeting a very pretty shaved pussy. She was glistening for him and he grabbed his cock with his hand, still wet with cum. 

"When did it change from just a fantasy to reality for you?" 

"When did I want it to actually happen? When did I pick you overtaking my fantasy to my husband?” 

He nodded, tightening his fist around his cock as she dragged her fingers to her clit.

"When you called me dangerous. I went to the bathroom and fucked myself to those words but it wasn't enough." 

"You are dangerous," he told her watching her arch, the column of her neck elongating as she panted. He shoved two fingers inside her as she came feeling her tighten around him, watching as she writhed. She was fucking beautiful and very fucking dangerous. He could see himself doing this all the time which was a quick change from never fucking cheating at all. A rage was simmering as he watched her quiver through the last remnants of her orgasm. She had done this to him, reduced him to the cliche husband he thought he wouldn’t be, into an asshole douchebag he always thought other cheating men were. He crawled over her and kissed her, his cock nestled against her wet pussy, the smell of them both racketing up the lightning sparks of lust. He went to her neck, alternating between his tongue and his teeth. He wanted to tear her throat out at times, and then she would moan quietly and he would feel guilty, licking the pain he had just delivered. 

“You hate me,” she said quietly as he looked up at her. “I can see it. The way you look at me has changed.” 

“I hate myself,” he replied as she pushed on his chest so that he was sitting up again. She straddled him, stroking his cock, pulling it towards her pussy so that she made him wet. 

“I love that about you. Think of yourself fifty years from now, in a nursing home, old and hardly able to walk. And you’ll think thank God I fucked that girl from the bar. Because that’s all I’ll become a memory among thousands of them. This will have little effect on your life. We’ll go back to our lives and remember this in times of monotony and obligatory sex. Ill orgasm thinking of you sometimes. I’ll be happier in my marriage because of it. You’ll do the same.”

He gritted his teeth as she slid down his cock. She pulled her dress off, and he latched on to one of her tits as she moved her hips up and down. She grabbed his left hand and he watched as she took his finger into her mouth, her tongue circling his wedding ring. He bit hard on her nipple, pinching the other even harder and he shoved even more fingers inside her mouth to shut her up. She moved faster as did he, the sounds of her wet pussy melding with the sounds of her staccato breaths.  

“Harder,” she spat as he pulled his hand out of her mouth. He gripped her throat and held her on her back as he fucked her, watching her pussy swallow and spit him out. 

“Yes,” she whispered and he pulled out of her, climbing up her body until he shoved his cock into her mouth. He fucked her like that hard and unrelenting, her eyes watering but her hands wrapped in his, her finger rubbing against his wedding ring. She was determined to keep his marriage between them and he hated to admit that it turned him on even more, the fear of her finding out, the fear of all that he has to lose. 

He pulled out of her mouth as she gasped, her cheeks wet and saliva in wet trails down her chin and neck. 

“You want this fucking ring?” he asked her as nodded, raising her hips up in desperation. “You are a dangerous slut, you know that?” 

He shoved his fingers so far up her pussy that she choked and coughed in shock. He made sure he couldn’t see his wedding ring. She moaned as he stroked her g-spot, her feet digging into the couch so she could ride his hand. He stroked harder and vibrated his hand until she was pushing at his forearm, squirting all over him. 

“I can’t. Not again.” She panted, her cheeks flushed and her body lax. 

“You will. I'm so fucking hard watching you squirt all over my wedding ring.” He replied. She trembled but she arched just so and he had to smile at the effect it had on her. He leaned down and took her clit between his teeth, sucking, biting, fluttering his tongue against it. She pushed against his head trying to get him to stop, her pussy too sensitive she whined. Moving his hand to hold her hands against her chest, he fingered her again until he was soaked with her. 

“Finish me off,” he ordered gripping her under the shoulders and slamming her down on his cock. Her eyes clamped shut and her hands pressed against his abs trying to control the speed. “Talk to me.” 

“Do you fuck your wife like this?” she asked as she began to move her hips with him. 

“No.” 

“You should,” she replied with a small smile. He laughed. 

“Do you fuck your husband like this?” 

“No.” 

He gripped her throat, feeling the racing beat of her pulse against his wedding ring. 

“Liar. He’s a fucking lucky man.” 

“I want you to cum inside me. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“More than your husbands.” 

She bit the lobe of his ear and whispered more. 

“We have a lot to lose,” she whispered. “We can lose everything. You’ve gambled a lot on me.”

He fucked her harder, sweat dripping down his chest and back. Her little whines were back, she was turning herself on even more. He pressed his wedding ring against her clit back and forth until he had to kiss her to shut her up. 

“Yes. I love your wedding ring against my clit. Harder, please. It's so wrong.” 

They both came, his hands gripping the creamy flesh of her thighs as if he might fall off the edge of a cliff. She had her forehead pressed against his, tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Was it worth it?” he asked her quietly as they both settled down. 

“I felt everything,” she replied before placing one last kiss. “Thank you.”

“How are you?” she asked with a hand pressed against his cheek. 

“If I come back, can we do this again,” she whispered a quiet yes but he didn’t believe her. He was no longer a challenge for her. He felt sorry for the next guy and really fucking envious.