Another address. Another slice of suburban life beyond the doorbell. Border hedges. F-Type parked in the sweeping driveway to the stone steps on which I'd placed the shopping crate.

Shuffling from foot to foot, idly toeing stones from the path back into the gravelled area, I waited for… I checked the hand-held device… Mrs Kendall to answer the door. My last drop of the shift, then home to crack open a well-deserved beer and relax in the garden.

Fuck, it was hot. My T-shirt sleeve was damp where I'd swiped it repeatedly across my forehead. The van thermometer stated twenty-seven Celsius, but the lack of recent storms made it feel twice that. And I swear it rose again when she answered.

Mrs Kendall bucked every door-opening tradition. Where most would face me, she was looking towards the lounge in the centre of the property as the door swung inward. And the only item on her curvy, lithe physique was a pair of black lace tanga panties.

I stared at her naked back below the cascade of chestnut hair. Followed the shape of her hips as they narrowed then flared, the material taut before plunging between her cheeks. A fluffy dressing gown pooled at her feet.

She called out over her shoulder. "You're later than usual."

Dumbfounded, I gawped. "I, uhhh. Sorry."

Snapping her head round, she shrieked, arms flying to hug her breasts as she spun to face me. "You're not my regular driver."

"I'm covering Steve's shift."

I tried hard not to sweep my gaze down her body from where her tits spilled over her forearms, to the convergence at the crease of her knickers sandwiched between creamy thighs. Tried, but I'm only human.

She noticed. Flashed a faint smile. "Guess there's no way I can say this isn't what it seems huh?"

I shook my head. Addressed the shopping beyond my burgeoning bulge. "Where do you, umm… want this?"

When there was no immediate answer I risked raising my gaze to find hers trained on my crotch. "Well isn't that a leading question." The darker ring around the aquamarine of her irises caught the midday sunlight a moment before she stepped aside. "You'd better bring it through."

Stooping, I took the crate's weight and lifted, turning to sidestep over the threshold. Faced with brushing my back to her body or keeping the shopping between us, I opted for the latter. It was still a squeeze. Despite the nature of the situation, I had the corporate image to uphold and didn't want to assume anything.

Her cleavage was a work of art, deep and inviting squished in her arms. A fresh spritz of perfume hung in the hallway as I awkwardly sidled past and paced to the kitchen at the end of a short corridor.

I hoisted the crate onto the island worktop. Surveyed the expensive appliances, double sink and colourful fruit bowl, then spun when the front door clicked shut.

She stood framed in the kitchen doorway, gently raising and lowering on the balls of her dainty feet, dressing gown loosely retied. The garment barely reached her thighs and she said nothing for a long while, the tantalising vee above her belt clamouring for my attention.

It was me who broke the silence. "Shall I," I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at the fridge, "unload for you?"

Swanning into the room she picked up a few bags of frozen veg, breezed past me, tugged the full height fridge door and bent at the waist to pull open the lowest drawer, dumping the contents. The dressing gown rode high, shapely ass sliding into view, panties stretched. My erection fought my cargo pants.

She held her palm up behind her. "Pass me the meat."

Rummaging in the crate, I grabbed the mince and the bacon, passing them to her. Our fingers brushed and I almost dropped the produce as my cock swelled.

Mrs Kendall placed them in the freezer. "Don't forget the sausage."

With her hand outstretched towards me I suppressed a smile at rampant thoughts of stepping in to let her fondle and squeeze my hardness. If she was this forthcoming, no wonder Steve always insisted on taking the route, the horny bastard.

I shuffled a few items aside looking for a pack of sausages. She glanced back and I caught her gaze centred once more on my bulge. "It's a big one," she offered. Licked her lips. "Cumberland."

I reddened. "Oh, right."

With my man-looking honed, I located the hefty sausage in a blue bag and passed it over, our fingertips skimming once more.

She stashed the meat, shut the drawer and stood to face me. The loss at the view of her ass was offset by the fact her gown had gaped significantly further, cleavage sweeping inward, creamy breasts almost fully exposed. I gawped and cleared my throat. "You should… put the milk away too."

"Quite right." She beamed and held out her hand. "You're very good."

The gown shifted and the edge of a prominent nipple peeked, the freezer's effect obvious. I fumbled for the milk carton and passed it over to put away.

"So, if I may ask. What's the… arrangement you have with Steve?"

Mrs Kendall shut the fridge, holding onto the handle a little longer before returning her attention to me. "It's complicated."

I nodded. "Isn't it always?"

Fishing the hand-held device from the crate, I tapped to tell it I'd delivered the order. "Sorry. Didn't mean to pry." I let the silence hang a moment, our eyes connecting. "Is there anything else you need, Mrs Kendall?"

She looked away then back at me. Brought a fingertip to her mouth and hooked it in her lower lip, gaze flitting up and down my body. Dragging her finger south, it caught on the dressing gown belt, separating the crossed ends and swinging open. Her magnificent chest heaved as she took a deep breath, stepping past me and my uncontrollable hard-on.

Tracking her movement across the room, I admired her buoyant gait until she reached the foot of the stairs between the kitchen and lounge, shed her dressing gown and ascended.

I gulped. A better man would have resisted. Instead, I crossed the room. Stared up after her pillowy buttocks rocking with each stair and followed, plush carpet deforming beneath my trainers.

Off the squat landing were a home office and children's bedrooms. To the left was the master bedroom in which I wasn't prepared for the sight of a wiry, naked man bound to a wooden chair alongside the double bed. We both froze. Rope trailed from his wrists and ankles where he was secured.

Mrs Kendall called out from the bedroom. "Don't be shy. My husband very much likes to watch, don't you darling?" His eyes bore into mine, intense gaze loaded with something I couldn't place. Fear? Pity? Need? We just stared at one another until Mrs Kendall prompted: "I said, don't you darling?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"And what's your favourite view?"

His lips parted, voice cracking, eyes never leaving mine. "The joy on your face up close when being fucked."

"Mmmm, I love it too, darling. And…" she snapped her fingers in my direction.

It took me a moment to figure what she wanted, my mind afuzz. I had to glance down at my nametag for a cue. "Ben."

"… Ben here is going to help us. Aren't you?"

The situation didn't seem real. Flashing and flirting over shopping was one thing, but this? I switched my stare from her to him, back and forth, expecting them to crack up laughing and claim I'd been pranked.

Nobody spoke; not even when I took a tentative step towards the room. Then another. Only when I was fully inside, just a few paces from Mr Kendall and his bobbing semi, did his wife speak.

Or rather, act.

She paced to me and the word, "Good," was lost in her lips on mine. She tasted of danger and saffron, the hay-like note lancing against my tongue as I responded, hands rigid and useless by my sides until she grabbed and directed them to her behind. I found myself gripping, then massaging her doughy yet firm flesh as she moaned against my stubble.

Snaking her hands up my back, tugging me into the embrace, she roamed exploratory fingers over my clothed body, mapping muscles honed from carrying crates, all the way to the hem of my polo top. She stepped back and yanked upward, tossing the garment aside and bending to kiss my collarbone then down to suckle and bite a nipple.

I'm not sure who gasped loudest, her husband or me. Heat swirled from the contact point down to my groin. As if she had x-ray vision, her hands traced the path of the bolt arcing to my waistband. She tugged, unsnapped, reached in and scooped me free, stroking and massaging my solid prick to full mast.

From alongside us, Mr Kendall groaned, whispering, "Fuck yes."

His wife paused. Let go. Put her hands on her hips and tipped her head coquettishly. With a nimble flurry, she rolled her underwear down her body and stood nude before us, thatch of dark hair flattened in places where it had been constrained. She pressed her damp panties into my palm. "Be a good boy and shut him up, will you?"

I stared, mouth opening and closing like a damn snapping turtle. Turned my attention to the man trussed in the chair and watched him deliberately widen his jaw.

Kneading the warm fabric in my hand I brought it up and moved closer to the stricken guy, catching sight of his firming cock. There was something at its base – a dark circle – and it took a moment to realise it was an elasticated hair band, looped twice around his balls and shaft acting as a makeshift cock ring.

I tentatively pressed the scrunched-up underwear to his lips and he lurched to take it. Pressing more firmly, I filled his mouth and he shut it behind my fingertips, flashing lidded appreciation.

Mrs Kendall nodded. Returned her attention to my cock, fingers circling the head and slowly jacking the shaft. Her husband wriggled. I must have been half a pace from the chair, maybe closer, his flexing hands just out of reach as she stroked me. A bead of pre-come formed which she scooped and swiped across her tongue.

"Mmmm. Delicious."

He struggled against the bonds as she sank to her knees and engulfed my meat. Took the top half, slithering away with a satisfying pop, the flared head glimmering in the sun streaming through the window.

The floral curtains wafted in the artificial breeze from the ceiling fan but it did little to temper the heat, especially when her doe eyes met mine and my length disappeared between her lips.

I groaned as she devoured three-quarters of me, pulled back then plunged for the rest, voraciously sucking over and over. The vibrations of her moans rippled up and down my shaft and I swelled moments before she withdrew.

My cock bobbed in the silence between our breaths as I hissed through my teeth, fighting back the urge to spray her face with hot spunk. She beamed up at me then across at her husband.

"Looks like you enjoyed that as much as he did, honey?"

We all zeroed on his firm, jutting cock. She reached out and tickled under the rim of the bulb, stood and reversed into his lap, grinding on top of him. The head slid back and forth along the inner edges of her folds, coating arousal along his length. She rose when he fully glistened, turning to face him.

"Ben is going to fuck me now, aren’t you?"

"I… I am?"

"Yes you are. Tell my husband what you're going to do."

I locked eyes with Mr Kendall. Paused to breathe. "I'm going to uhhh, going to… fuck your wife."

His eyes lit up and he moaned into the panty gag, erection jerking between his thighs, as she bent over and placed her hands on his knees. Wiggling her rump, she nodded at me. "Haven't you got a schedule to keep?"

"Oh. Of course."

I didn't, but I sure as hell wasn't giving up the opportunity to nail her.

Rounding her voluptuous curves, I stood behind and gingerly reached out to place my hands on her porcelain backside. Energy crackled through me, cock surging, almost magnetising me to her snatch. The tip nudged her entrance and I revelled in the sensation of splitting her folds, before she shoved her hips towards me and I disappeared deep. We both gasped and she immediately set up a rocking rhythm.

I barely moved at first. Let her impale herself on my pole time and again, our hips meeting and slapping in the sizzling summer heat. As events ramped and need overtook us I became more animated. Dug my fingertips into her behind and dragged myself into her until we were fucking madly. She began snarling and chanting, "Fuck me, fuck me," her head dipping with each thrust, chin, lips and tongue skimming the solid tip of her husband's drooling prick.

Snaking my hands forward, I leaned over her body and cupped her swinging tits. Tightened my grip and was rewarded with a satisfied gurgle from her throat. I tugged her upright so her husband could appreciate her fully, and began to squeeze and pull her nipples, his impassioned snorts dusting my knuckles while I pounded her from behind.

That finished her, orgasm beginning as a guttural groan that crested and spilled into the room. She froze, shuddering around my impaled member. I made the mistake of looking down at the matted bush clamping my hardness and, in a rising tide of panic, realised I was going to come inside her.

She must have sensed my uncertainty as I withdrew, and shrieked, "No! Fill me up, Ben. Claim me." Ramming her hips back into mine, she hungrily took everything I began to pump into her depths.

My groans joined her husband's as he watched me unload inside his horny spouse. Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrated on the sensation of how she gripped and milked my cock throughout our shared climax. When they reopened, our hips drifted apart and she reached between her legs to clamp my spunk inside her soaked pussy.

Standing, she turned around, reversed over her prone partner and pulled her hand away. Globs of my thick cream appeared at the entrance to her hole before splattering and drizzling down his straining erection. Mrs Kendall squeezed her muscles and another viscous blob oozed from her distended lips, clinging to the hairs before gravity took over.

He was rock hard and I gawped at his iced erection when she stepped away. It swelled and jerked as he processed the situation, taking whatever he needed from it. I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to leave him like that?"

Mrs Kendall observed his predicament with an air of amusement. "No." Her eyes slid to mine. "You should finish him off for me."

I stared. "What?"

She reached for my hand and guided it to her husband's slippery cock. I resisted but she wrapped my fist around him and slithered our grip up and down. His eyes drifted shut and he moaned.

Wanking someone else off felt odd. Without the internal feedback loop to know how to adjust touches, I only had his movements and vocalisation to guide me. When she let go, I found myself carrying on, curious what would happen in this familiar yet alien environment.

His lidded gaze slid to meet mine as I jacked his shaft. There was a pleading behind his eyes. A dark need that I doubt I'd ever understand. But I recognised desire when I saw it, and gripped tighter, slowing my actions while tugging longer strokes, slipping off the tip with each. My come smeared around his shaft, slicking in the stifling heat. His breathing intensified.

Something unspoken passed between them and she leaned in to kiss me, hard and passionate. As our tongues clashed, his hips squirmed in the seat, wrists and ankles flailing against the rope. He rose a few inches and bucked in my grip, the first rivulet bubbling from his flared tip and drizzling over my fingers to pool in his pubes. The second spurted a few inches into the air and splattered on his hip as the remaining eruptions spewed and slithered to mingle with my sticky spunk.

Mrs Kendall broke our kiss, wasting no time sinking to her knees and wrapping her lips around his gradually deflating cock. She sucked, slurped and licked every drop of our combination from every patch of skin it had landed, flitting her attention between us as she brazenly devoured our cream. My dick stirred.

When she'd finished cleaning up, I self-consciously made myself presentable as she untied the stricken man and he rubbed his wrists. He threw me what I can only assume was an appreciative nod as he stood. His wife held her finger up. "I'm not done with you yet."

He froze. Looked at the floor as I shuffled. "I should… y'know." Jerked my thumb over my shoulder.

She nodded. "Thank you for the assistance."

"Love to help. Says so here." I indicated my name badge.

"How very customer focused."

I winked. "Any time," and backed out of the room.

Mrs Kendall grabbed her husband's slippery manhood and tugged him towards the bed. Lying back and spreading herself, she pulled his head in to clamp his lips against the hairy snatch I'd recently fucked. He eagerly lapped and she sighed.

Stealing down the stairs, I emptied the remainder of the crate and left the rising moans behind.

As I hopped in the cab and gunned the engine, I knew Steve was going to have a fight on his hands to snag this address in future.