Married Mom of 3 Fucks a 21 Yr Old

He'd been messaging me for a while. Polite, cheeky, and persistent in a way that actually made me smile. He was visiting from the States, just 21, and apparently already into the hotwife scene.

I don't usually jump for that kind of thing, but he was cute. Like really cute. And the more we chatted, the more curious I got.

So I booked a hotel and told him to come see me.

I had decided I would surprise him. When he opened that door I wanted him to see me in nothing but lingerie. I'm pregnant, but not too far along yet. Just enough of a bump to feel sexy and a little bit spoiled.

He walked in and gave me this shy smile, but I could already feel the confidence under it. We kissed--he was a good kisser--and it didn't take me long before I dropped to my knees.

I pulled his cock out. He wasn't huge. Actually, kind of small. But I don't care about that. Honestly? I love sucking smaller cocks. You can take it all, deep throat it straight away. You know that nose to stomach feeling.

I started sucking him, letting him fuck my mouth. Spit, throat, eye contact. The whole thing.

About a minute in, he told me to stop. I pulled off and as I did he shot a stream of cum into my hair before immediately apologising.

I just laughed. Told him it was fine. Honestly, I took it as a compliment.

I gave him a moment, then started sucking him again. This time caressing his balls as I did.

It didn't take him long before he pushed me off. He said he needed a break. He had me lie on the bed and he went down on me and actually did a decent job... confident tongue, no hesitation, just good pressure and focus. Oh the joys of fucking a guy in his early 20s.

After a couple of minutes he pulled his face away from my quivering clit and moved himself into position between my legs. He lifted my hips and slid into me.

No asking. Just in and fucking me hard from the start.

It felt amazing, but I could tell straight away--he wasn't going to last.

And I was right.

About a minute in, he came. Hard. No warning. Just this deep pulsing orgasm right inside me.

I felt it gush into me.

He pulled out, rolled over like he was done, and I just turned my head and looked at hubby, who was standing there with a grin.

I said, "Clean me up then add your load."

And he did.

He laid down between my legs and pushed his face into my pussy, licking me clean. He was very eager today. I could tell because he really tried to get everything, but there was a lot in there.

Once he'd done what he could, I climbed on top of him. My pussy was still dripping, but that didn't stop him.

He slid in--warm, wet, messy--and I rode him properly.

He lasted longer, obviously. It had been a while since he only lasted 1 minute. Our guest had slipped off to the bathroom at that point. Later, he said he didn't want to interrupt us.

Hubby had me rolling off to suck the cum off his cock mid-fuck, then back on again. And when he finally bent me over and pushed in from behind, he filled me too.

Another load. Same pussy. Still leaking.

After that, I joined our 21-year-old in the shower.

We didn't do anything. We just stood there, talked a bit, washed off. It was kind of sweet. Almost soft, compared to what we'd just done.

A couple of weeks passed, and I didn't think much more about him. Until he messaged again.

He wanted another shot. Said he couldn't stop thinking about it. About me.

It was one of those days--I was stuck at work, my brain foggy, body restless, and that deep, familiar ache already building between my legs. I hadn't been fucked in a few days, and the moment I saw his name pop up on my phone, I knew exactly what I needed.

I wrapped up early, got changed into something casual but easy to peel off, and picked him up from the train station.

We didn't even make it out of the station.

There was no real plan, no destination. Just that charged silence in the car, that slight flush on his face, and the obvious tension we both carried from the last time.

I pulled into a secluded spot away from other cars and climbed into the back seat. He followed, and I didn't even need to ask--I just reached for his pants, pulled his cock out, and dropped my mouth straight onto it.

I could tell he'd been waiting for this. His cock was already hard, twitching slightly, and I swallowed him easily. Still small, still perfect for deep-throating.

I took my time at first--just enjoying the act of sucking him. The control. The intimacy of it. The sound of him breathing heavier while I ran my tongue around the head, then down to the base, then back up again, slowly.

In my head, I really did think he'd last longer this time. We'd done this before. I figured maybe his body had caught up to his ambition.

But no.

Not even a full minute in, he pulled my hair, looked down at me, and told me he needed to be inside me. Now.

There was no teasing. No transition. Just raw, urgent need.

I didn't hesitate. I stripped off my jeans, pushed my panties to the side, and lay back across the seat, legs bent, already dripping.

He climbed on top of me, guided himself in, and just like before--he lasted seconds.

Thirty, maybe. He warned me this time. When he told me he was cumming I let him know to fill me up properly again.

I looked him in the eyes, and soon felt that deep, intense warmth start to spread through me all over again.

It wasn't just a little finish. He came hard. Thick. Deep. Hot.

It almost startled me how much there was--that unmistakable fullness, that slow drip starting immediately, and the feeling in my pussy telling me I'd been properly bred. Again.

I just smiled.

He looked a little sheepish, of course. Apologetic, almost. But still cute.

But I didn't say a word. Just got dressed slowly while he cleaned himself up, and then I drove him back to the station. We kissed goodbye like nothing unusual had happened.

When I got home, I'd beaten hubby there. I still felt full--so full--and I stayed that way until I heard the door open.

He walked in, and I called him into the bedroom before undressing.

I peeled my top outfit off, slowly and made sure to give him that look.

Then I sat back on the bed, legs open, pussy still messy, and I showed him just how much cum had been unloaded into his wife's pussy.

He stood there watching me, hard already. But I didn't give him details.

Didn't tell him who it was. Didn't say how fast it happened.

He didn't need to know.

He just needed to see what had been done to me.

And how much I loved it.