T⦻by’s Wife

Sully’s eyes linger as if they already know what’s beneath your clothing, like he knows what you sound like when you fall apart under him. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. The change in his lilt, the slight rasp his voice develops when it’s not Liu in control should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It all comes crashing down on a hot spring day. Almost summer, yet not quite. The AC is broken, and it’s too humid to dress properly. You’re in nothing but a thin tank, with him not bothering to throw on a shirt- lazing around the house in loose pajama pants.

Your already damp sleep shorts keep rolling up, hugging your ass and cunt like a second skin. It was inevitable in hindsight.

Standing in the kitchen, you had bent over to grab something from the dishwasher, and Sully nearly choked. You weren’t wearing underwear, so the worn down fabric wasn’t doing much to cover you.

The fact that you and Liu lived together didn’t help much either. You had one bedroom, that’s it. He couldn’t even jack off against the comfort of pillows.

He was pent up, to put it lightly, and the sight had him scoffing. Though it’s not like you were better off. A sly comment, a hand on his shoulder that stays for a second too long. Sometimes Liu’s gone for a week, sometimes it’s a month. And the scent on his old clothes can only get you so far.

One thing leads to another, and before you know it, Sully’s pumping into your slick cunt raw.

Skin dewy with sweat, he has you against the kitchen table. Shorts yanked to the side as he pounds into you so rough the cutlery jostles. Then it’s the bathroom door, your legs folded over his shoulders.

He’s physically moving you onto his cock, and the frame rattles with every thrust. After that, it’s the couch. Bending you over the arm rest, forcing your face against the cushions while his grip digs into waist. The air is thick with sex and heat- it’s as raunchy as it can get.

He’ll take you against the wall in the hallway, fucking into you from behind as your eyes roll back. Knocking the frames onto the floor when he picks up the pace. On the ground in the living room, ankles by his ears, with you cumming so hard you sob.

Pressed against the upstairs windows, your tits squished to the glass. On the bed, folded in a mating press as his hips drive into you harshly, headboard slamming. Your clothes leave a messy trail all over the home, and there isn’t a single room you haven’t fucked in.

You’re arched over the bathroom sink, his bicep locked around your throat. “Hah- who’s fucking you, huh?—“ He slows to a cruel grind, tugging you back on it. “C’mon, honey. Can’t hear you.” You slur out something barely coherent, but that doesn’t matter.

Taunting, Sully’s snickering in your ear, mocking you for spreading your legs so easily. “You’re such a mess, holy shit. Does he not fuck you good or something?” And “Aw, you miss him? Is that why you’re squeezing on me like this? Poor baby, we can pretend if you want.”

He’ll prop you up on his lap, making you ride just to start thrusting up into you till you collapse. He knows you want him just as much as you want Liu, and that’s exactly why he’s so mean about it.

It gets him off seeing you trip over yourself, humping him like some milk drunk puppy trying to impress its owner. He’ll push his finger past your lips while you bounce yourself on his cock. Hook his thumb into your cheek and sneer at the drool.

“You want it inside? Yeah? Then beg for it, convince me, honey.” While your legs shake and your shoulders bow. “Show me something pretty, show me you fucking deserve it.” When he fills you for the umpteenth time, groaning lowly as he watches your pupils cross.