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How he would eat you when you meet.

But she also loved being the secret girl who searched porn sites for new ideas to thrill her flings with, to give them the things their boring wives wouldn't, to be the dirty girl they fantasized about during the boring social get-togethers. They all knew there must be "others," but no one pried and she got the best of both worlds out of the deal.

That's how she'd ended up here, after all, at the Labor Day picnic the neighbors threw every year. Here in the garden pagoda, her cocktail dress raised around her waist, panties nowhere to be found, as she rode Michael's hard cock with the other guests only yards away on the other side of the bushes. Michael, who'd made his own money and connections young, and had only gotten more positioned through his consulting work now, whose wife Janet was the neighborhood busybody that everyone knew was only still there because he hadn't done a pre-nup. Michael, who was always happy to help Terry Saunders out with another introduction or connection, and who right now was holding Elizabeth Saunders's hair tightly in his hand as he ground up to meet her while telling her what a hot little slut she was as she moaned...

"MMmmm, girl, I've been dying to fuck you again all week." Michael said softly into her ear with a particularly deep thrust. "My cock has missed you so fucking much!" His beard scraped gently at her soft cheek as he held her close to him, the scent of his cologne and underlying manhood arousing her more. "As wet as you are, I think you wanted it too, Beth."

She hadn't exactly planned on fucking him (or anyone) tonight, particularly with so much risk of someone catching on to her indiscretions. But, Beth also believed in being prepared... So, maybe she had made sure that tonight's choice of dress was cut just a tiny bit higher than it should be, that the top had a way of gaping slightly when she leaned, showing off her latest Agent Provocateur acquisition supporting her cleavage. Maybe Beth had ensured that her jewelry and makeup were just right. That her lips were nicely shaved and strip trimmed close. That Terry had a couple of drinks at the house before they walked over, making him likely to notice less.

The annual end-of-summer cookout was always a neighborhood draw. Michael and his wife would hire caterers and a band, there would be cocktails in the yard, a well-planned meal, and late drinks as people caught up on their vacation stories and fall plans. The fact more than one man at the soiree had fucked her recently only made her tingle a bit inside, half in pride, half wondering if their wives even suspected. Between the first couple of drinks and the mingling, Beth shortly found herself thinking on it more and more, and realizing that she'd need to do something about it soon.

So, she certainly hadn't resisted the urge, or pretended not to catch the hint, when Michael had walked by her group a few minutes ago, making friendly small talk with his guests, and subtly nodding his head at her with a warm smile. Beth knew exactly what he wanted, and the warmth between her legs reminded her it worked both ways; so when she saw the older man walk past the hedgerow towards the hidden gazebo she made her own excuses and shortly followed. His eyes lit up as she had entered the shadowed nook, and when he took her hand leading her to the bench there wasn't any pretense of flirting or foreplay. That was one of the things Beth liked about Michael - he knew this relationship was purely sexual for both of them, and made no illusions about his desires.

"Unh... unh... unhhhh..." Beth panted as she rode him, her bare, tanned legs straddling his still-clothed ones, sliding slowly up and down his thick shaft as she moaned. "I fell how hard it is. Were you planning to fuck me all along tonight, or... ooooohhhhh... or was this a spur of the moment decision?"

"Mmmmm, I love how your pussy feels, Beth.

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