“Don’t Press Your Luck.”
 

I nibbled briefly at her neck, and she leaned down to kiss my hand. Then she started to move as if she was getting up. I hugged her close, “was that OK for you, then. She rolled onto her back, turned to look at me, patted my hand (still on her breast) and said, “That was AMAZING. Thank you.” “When can we do this again?” I asked.

She pulled away and put her feet on the floor. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can’t call me or text me.” As she stood up, I sat up on the edge of the bed, pulled her around to face me, and buried my head in her chest. “In that case, I need to say goodbye properly to these two.” Between gentle kisses around her nipples, I explained, “I may never see another pair of perfect breasts.” She sighed indulgently and said, “I’ll send you a Snapchat contact once I find my phone.” “So, you do want to do this again??” She pushed my head away from her playfully and said, “Don’t Press your luck.” ...but she was smiling as she patted my head (again like I was a obedient dog).

“You better get out of here,” she said as she walked toward the bathroom. She stopped, facing away from me to try to get control of her hair again and I sat there, supremely contented, staring at her ass, fixing it my memory. She looked back over her shoulder, hair tie in her teeth, to say, “I threw your shirt on top of the fridge,” then walked out of the room.

I made my exit quickly while she was gone, roughly making the bed and quietly sliding the window closed. I judged that the excitement of “someone could hear us” was better than the cold embarrassment of “OMG, what did I shout?”

As I walked slowly to my car the day was bright and marvelous and I looked around to see if any neighbors were peeking at me. I didn’t see any curtains pulled back, but I could hear a lawn mower somewhere and children playing at a distance. I smiled at the houses around, in case anyone was there.

Then I paused for just a moment, wondered who I could call to brag, realized I couldn’t tell anyone who might know her...and wrote a quick and cryptic post on this forum. (I usually have a half-dozen photo threads open all the time...because I’m usually getting off by without anyone to call my name.)

I didn’t intend to write the story, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a perfect afternoon delight, and the more I relived it, the more words kept forming. I’ve tried to tell the story exactly as I lived it. Hope it isn’t too long to be enjoyable.

The whole encounter only took about 20 minutes to play out from the time she pulled me in the front door to the bathroom door closing behind her. It took much longer to write.

It's been many years , but i have always loved using a married woman in her house and in her marital bed.

This is my first time, but I think it may be even better when it comes as a surprise.

I feel like I owe you guys photos
 

I don’t have any “special” photos of her...not yet, fingers crossed. And I’m reluctant to post anything identifiable. But here are a couple of good ones that I’ve been looking art today

Hot story. Well told - good writing always takes time, and yours was well spent... [double entendre intended] :D

Wonder if her husband has any idea what his wife gets up to? To say you were not the first time she stepped out might be considered an understatement... :rolleyes: ;)

New thread?
 

I need to write a follow-up to this story. Should that be a new thread?

I'd say keep in within this very nice thread, but do it soon, please.

What a great story! Thanks. Please post a follow-up on this thread!

Yes, please post more!