You know.

Of course, you know.

You knew - at least subconsciously – when I slipped out of bed an hour ago, taking the shorter but more difficult route, over your hot, half naked body, ‘accidentally’ straddling your thigh en-route. My own body heat and wetness between my legs would have given me away. Of course, you were still in slumber land, murmuring something incoherent in your sleep. I couldn’t really make out whether it was ‘what you doin’ or ‘where you goin’ but you were not expecting any reply anyway.

You know, from the way I pussyfooted into the kitchen just to watch you making your coffee, just to see you stirring your sugar laden kick-start-juice and from the way I now loiter around you, pottering about with some unwashed cups purposelessly. All the counter space had been taken up by dirty dishes; no one touched anything here for days.

I open the fridge, knowing that apart from a bottle of milk and a pot of leftovers from two days ago, all I will find is cool air. It’s the third day of January, but shopping hasn’t been done this year yet. And not because of the short opening hours of the shops.

I bend down, pulling out the veggie boxes from the nethermost shelf of the fridge. I don’t care what’s in there; I just want to give you a show of my curvaceous ass and flaunt the way how one side of my moist knickers have been swallowed by my hungry pussy lips.

You know. Yet, you still ask, “You still horny?”

I always loved how you pronounce that word on your cocky cockney and swallow half of that sentence. Makes me want to make you swallow other things.

That wasn’t a question, was it though? More like a flashing billboard to advertise the fact what an insatiable slut you ‘have to be put up with'. I look at your scruffy, still scrunched-up, pillow-creased face, looking for that smirk that normally tailgates such a statement.

But you’re staring at me poker faced. In fact, you have the audacity to look away, putting your mug on that very limited counter space.

When our eyes meet again, I glare at you with the wrath of all the Roman, Greek and other goddesses ever made up in the name of love and especially lust. I open my lips to start my usual monologue of ‘how you should know me after seven years’ and ‘how once the lid of Pandora’s box has been lifted it’s impossible to put back on'.

Just then, like a weary deer emerging from the dusky undergrowth, from the forest of your stubble, appears that curl of your devilish delight. I also notice that your robe that was, until now, loosely tied around your waist, now hangs open, showing your outstretched sexy legs as you casually lean back onto the counter. It’s one of those typical tartan ‘grandpa’ robes, which you got for Christmas from your mum and I can’t stop teasing you about it, calling you ‘grampa’ all the time.

But since you chose to wear it last night, after our very naughty night, I’ve fallen in love with it, because my brain forever connected it with that contentment.  

For a minute, my eyes linger on the bulge of your flaccid cock - still quite impressive through your boxers.

“You men are such simple creatures,” I sigh. My eyes are smoothly caressing your naked thigh contrasting the acrid tone of my voice sharply. “You cum, you’re happy... I’m a different kind of animal altogether. And you are to follow me into my burrow.” With that valediction, I theatrically spin around and head for the sitting room. I’ll make you, I add under my breath.

**

You’re settled on the sofa watching telly, sipping your steaming coffee. I’m sitting on the other end, by the window, reading a story on my tablet. I can hear the blistery winds tearing at the cypress hedge outside. The rustling noise of their struggle and the draft from the window raise the hair on my naked arms. I stare into the dark curtains and mutter to myself. “We need to get that triple glaze sorted... After the carpet, the gutters and the bathroom tiles.”

You look at me and I realise I said that out loud. I’m sure you’re now going to get into your ‘they can wait’ reasoning, but instead I catch you staring at my breasts, my hard nipples to be precise.

“Are you that cold?” you keep ragging on me, not even hiding your outrageous smirk anymore.

But two can play with that fire, Mister.

I shake my head at you in a slow, intimidating way. If you think we are finished for the weekend, you’re fucking mistaken! I just have a coffee to drink too and a story to finish reading. Then, you’ll have that stupid smirk wiped off your obnoxious face.

Kid is happily watching Paw Patrol as he has been continuously for the last few days. At the moment, we are probably the worst parents this side of the Taygetos. But guilt-trip mummy-me is chained and locked in the basement, which also explains the state of the house.

It’s a rare Pandora weekend and it has nothing to do with the stupid jewellery shop. More than likely though, when I finish this coffee and start weaving my web around you, you’d be willing to horde all the jewellery of Aladdin’s cave to my feet.

I mouse over and sit on your lap facing you - my favourite position to... discuss things and to ensure I’m getting my way. I inhale your sweet coffee breath as I kiss your warm lips with subtle, lingering kisses.

My loose, off-shoulder top that I like to double as a pyjama top is practically sliding down my ample chest, not leaving much to the imagination. I hook my fingers into the loose rubber string neckline and free my bouncy tits.

“Some muffins with your coffee, baby?” I chuckle as I wantonly offer them to you.

I barely feel the first gentle laps of your tongue and I already notice that you’re getting erect under my straddling thighs. “Try teasing me about my hard nipples now. They’re not as hard as you are!”

I reposition myself slightly to the right until I feel your bulge pressing into my sensitive valley. “How does it feel to have your veiny cock between my lips through the thin material of our underwear?” I tease as I grind myself onto you. Your mouth is all over my peaks now. If they were really muffins there would only be crumbs left.

When you hold my nipples between your teeth and pull lightly, I bite into your stubbly chin and purr into your ear. Then I ground myself in half-ecstasy. I can’t have what I want right here in front of the kid and... and I’m on a different mission here.

“Do you know what James told me last night?” I whisper my big, rhetorical, monologue-opening question into your ear.

My rustling voice and the mere mention of that name makes you lift your hips and rock them into mine, hard. Underneath your sexy, grey boxers and my body weight, I know that I got your solid attention.

“He was asking how submissive are you... and I said ‘not very, but I’m pushing you towards experimenting a bit further’.”

Normally a revelation like that would earn me a few questions and more than likely a few of your signature eyerolls. Not now. You are in boob-heaven and too busy precum-soaking our undergarments, only half registering what I’m telling you.

But I need you to listen to me. I need you to know that this ain’t no bedtime story. I hold your face between my hands and spit the following harsh words into your cute puppy face:

“He said he will make you sit in the corner with your hands tied...”

My tone is not a whisper or a purr anymore but a gritted-teeth frustrated treat. It fucking turned me on and I can’t get those words or that image out of my head.

I need you to understand that this ain’t a bedtime story or dirty talk to wind you up, baby! It’s your future!

A grunt escapes from the well of your soul and I know you would f-word into my conceit, if I hadn’t guided your face onto my tits, thus silencing you.

You’re almost suffocating on them, taking so much of my breast into your mouth, that looking from above, it seems almost physically impossible.

“He said he will make you watch your slutty wife giving him a sloppy head.” I don’t think James was that specific actually, but I do have to add my own two dirty penny’s worth. “And I’ve let him in on my little secret how deepthroating and a little force makes me super wet.”

That involuntary reflex when gagging makes my pussy clench down and I get very moist instantly. I guess, this happens to the most of us, but I’ve never heard it ever mentioned, not as filthy locker room talk, nor ever read about in Cosmo.

“He said he will finger me roughly to see if I was telling the truth and was really gushing... And if I was, he’d lead me to you on my leash and make you witness it, smell it, and taste it.”

You’re rocking your hips to the rhythm of my teasing tone and your little grunting, whinging sounds really turn me on.

“Just talking about it makes me sooo wet, baby... But I’ve been like that since yesterday. Even my dream was of James and his massive cock and your eyes, as you’re watching him crash into me.”

I lift my weight off you and leave you with your breath laboured and a storm in your eyes.

“So, of course I’m still horny! He has put that bug in my ear and now I won’t stop till it happens.”

I can only see the tenting outline of your cock through your boxers, but it looks painfully hard. Your cotton boxers are soaked with your precum seeping through and a bit lower, there's a big dark patch of my own lusting.

I would have loved to continue, but I’m torturing myself equally in the process. And it’s just as well, as the kid decides he can’t take any more of Rider’s rescue missions.

**

The kid normally doesn’t take daytime naps anymore, but today he does, because he has to. I have an afternoon rendezvous with his daddy to finish what we have started earlier.

So once I snuggle the troublemaker to sleep, I join you upstairs. We go through our usual pre-sex routine of a quick shower and putting some porn on.

I stare at your MMF video choice of the day and ask dreamily, “One evening, can we have a chill time, just watching porn and discuss what we like, what turns us on, etc...?”

“Sure, baby,” you murmur spooning my naked body under the duvet.

You fumble with my breasts, seemingly continuing your unfinished business from the morning.

“Do you want to hear one of my latest fantasies?” I purr. Because why not practice for that night like now, right?

Your reply is a long “Mmmm,” as you make your way kissing my stomach, not wasting much time to reach your final destination between my legs.

You’re kissing and stroking my nether lips gently, while casually resting your face on my inner thigh looking at me, awaiting my latest ‘story’.

“I want one night when you watch me with another man and you can join in, and you will be allowed to do everything... apart from penetration.”

Your eyes light up against the dim background glow of the TV, but you’re shaking your head and grimace in a ‘that ain’t happening' way.

Then you confirm what I already gathered, “No. I want to fuck you.”

Hm, you’re disappointingly ruining my fantasy. “Ok, how about if you fuck me after he leaves?” Not like we haven’t done that before...

“No.”

Damn... Ok, not to worry, I’ll find a way... I always do... “Hmmm... how about if it will be conditioned?”

You’re looking at me inquisitively while your fingers draw teasing little lines on and around my pussy, driving me wild.

“James also asked me, if he could become one of our regulars... He wants to do bareback, fill me with his cum and make you lick it out of me.” I’m squinting hard at the last bit and trying to sound nonchalant to fool you into believing, that I have absolutely nothing to do with this filth. Which is partially true, as those are James’s words. I do think it’s hot AF though, but I will, or will not tell you that, depending on your reaction.

In spite of my efforts, I can’t really hide my excitement... With your fingers inside me and your tongue circling my gushing fountain around them, I can’t exactly act all reserved.

I’m somewhat surprised when I hear no disapproval. Quite the opposite, in fact, in the shape of animated grunts and thrilled moans. I grind my pussy hard on your face, my mind free-falling into the delicious depths of that fantasy.

I tell you to suck my clit, which I almost never ask for, because it is a very intense sensation. But this time I crave it. I need it. After the build-up of the whole day and getting immersed into this dream that will soon become reality... I need to cum. Hard and fast.

The harder your tongue swirls inside me, the deeper you plunge your fingers into me, the bolder I get.

“Imagine all that cum oozing out of my stretched-out pussy and you have to clean it all up in order to be allowed to fuck me... Stick your tongue in there deep... He has shot his load into the very depths of my pussy.”

You are amazing at going down on me on any given day but now... Oh my god! Your tongue is wizardry, casting super-sensory spells on my mind and body. My jelly-brain has no filter on my words anymore. “Fucking hell, baby! Mmmm... The better job you’re doing, the more my pussy contracts, bringing up more of that thick white cum. I know it doesn’t taste very nice but think about the prize. This hot, sloppy pussy will now be all yours.” If you make me cum. Please make me cum.

And of course you do. You know exactly what I need to snap my last few hinges, connecting me to reality.

After my much-needed visit to the stars, we quickly change position, so you can claim your well-deserved prize. And I continue my dirty monologue because we’re not finished here in real life and we certainly aren’t finished in fantasy land.

“Imagine James standing in front of us, stroking his cock for another round, requesting me to make him hard again. You’d watch him in the mirror, taking my mouth again... growing to his massive size. When he’s fully erect, he will force himself into my throat, going nice and slow, revelling in seeing me gagging. Lifting my head up, he’s sliding his hand down my neck, feeling his cock. And you watch the scene in the mirror as your cock disappears in my sloppy wetness from behind.

Between gagging on his thick shaft and your cock ramming into me, like it does now, I’d be begging both of you to stop, ‘I can’t take any more'.

‘We don’t care’ you’d both say. You’d even say that ‘I’m just a stupid dirty hole...'” Which is a bit of an inside joke between us and normally we just smirk about it, but now with my teeth gritted telling you that, that is what I want to be called, it is another perfect fuel log on the fire.

“Then James would request to have my pussy again, impaling me as you watch. ‘Take her dirty mouth’ he’d say. ‘I want to see cum dripping down her chin!’ He would tell me not to swallow till he pumps me full of his spunk again. ‘Hold the cum in your mouth; we like to see the dirty whore with cum dripping out both of her holes.'”

For now, it’s only yours, but mmmm trust me, I won’t rest until I get what I want.

**

My name is Pandora and I am quite possibly a sex addict. But it’s all hubby’s fault as he made me open that damn box again.