My Raw One-Night Fuck with Jean-Marc: Friend’s Hubby Nails Me Hard

A few days after that wild car ride, my landline buzzed hard. Jean-Marc’s voice, low and hungry. ‘Can’t stop thinking about your lips on my cock, your wet slit gripping my fingers. Alone at your mom’s? I’m coming over now.’ Heart slamming my ribs. Nico at work, mom gone. No time to think. ‘Yes.’ Click. Pussy throbbed instantly, panties soaked. I paced the living room, nipples hard against my blouse. Doorbell pierced the silence like a vibrator. Opened the door. His macho grin, that musky aftershave hitting me first—finally smelled it up close, intoxicating. No words. Grabbed my waist, crushed mouth to mine. Tongue invaded, rough and demanding. Hands yanked my skirt up, fingers tracing thighs. Mine clawed his shirt. Stumbled inside, door slamming. ‘Been wanting this pussy since the club slow dance,’ he growled. Pushed me against wall. Kiss deepened, sloppy wet. His bulge ground my belly. Urgency electric—no chit-chat, straight to the fire we’d built over months of stolen touches.