Hotwife

FEMALE POV. It happened on a Saturday morning. My husband had just left for work, and I was still half-asleep. I got up, took a quick shower, and wrapped myself in a towel. Just the usual routine. Then the doorbell rang. I thought it was my husband. Maybe he forgot something. So I opened the door without even checking. But it wasn’t him. It was Jay, his workmate. He came to drop off some tools they left at our place the night before. I froze. He froze. I was standing there, dripping wet in a towel that barely stayed on. He tried to look away, but I already saw his eyes scan me up and down. I laughed a little and told him to wait while I grabbed something to wear. But then, as I bent down to grab my phone from the floor near the couch, the towel slipped. It dropped. Fully. Right in front of him. He saw everything. I gasped and quickly grabbed it, my hands shaking a bit. I looked at him, and his face was red. He apologized, said it was fine, and stared hard at the wall like he was trying not to look again. He left quickly, said he’d come back later. I stood there for a second, heart racing. I should’ve been embarrassed. Maybe I was. But also… I felt something else. A thrill I couldn’t explain. That night, while my husband slept next to me, I kept thinking about Jay. Not just that he saw me naked. But the way he looked at me. Like I was something forbidden. Like he wanted me, even though he knew he shouldn’t. That look made me feel sexy in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. The next time Jay came by, I didn’t try too hard to cover up. I wore a loose shirt with no bra and short shorts. I acted normal, like nothing ever happened. But I caught him stealing glances again. This time, I didn’t hide my smirk. Now I can’t stop thinking about it. That moment. That silence between us. That heat. It was just an accident. A small one. But part of me wants it to happen again. And maybe next time, I won’t cover up so fast.

MALE POV. I used to think she was just a bored housewife. Always outside in the morning, always with a mug in her hand and that same tired smile. But I noticed things. Her shirts never quite hid her curves. Her legs looked soft and smooth when she sat out on the porch, one knee over the other, toes painted bright red. She was older than me, probably mid-40s, but there was something about her that kept pulling my eyes in. I never said much to her, just a polite nod when I walked by. But after a few days, I started walking slower. Letting her see me. I stopped wearing a shirt when I cut the grass. I’d make sure she had a good view. I didn’t know if she was watching, not at first. But one afternoon, I looked up and caught her looking. She didn’t turn away. After that, it got easier. She started calling out little things, asking me to help with a stuck gate, or carry a box inside her garage. She’d laugh a little too long at my jokes. Stand just a bit too close when she handed me a cold drink. I felt it building, even though nothing had happened yet. There was a slow tension in the air whenever I was around her, like we were both pretending it was nothing. One day, she asked me to help trim the tree at the side of her house. I was up on the ladder, and she was holding it steady. I could feel her eyes on my legs, on my back, as I reached for the higher branches. When I came down, sweaty and out of breath, she gave me that look again — the same one from before, only now it lingered. I stepped a little closer when I thanked her for the drink. She didn’t move. Her eyes dropped to my chest, then slowly climbed back up to meet mine. The silence between us was thick. She brushed her fingers against my arm when she took the glass back. A small touch, nothing big, but it made my whole body react. We didn’t say anything. She just smiled and turned away, slow and calm like she hadn’t done anything. But I saw the way her hips swayed as she walked back into her house. Like she wanted me to watch. I stood there for a few seconds before heading home, trying to shake it off. But I knew what was happening now. She did too. And I had every intention of going back. @slow burn erotica

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It was 1 years since Maria couldn't visit her son at prison because of the COVID outbreak. She always loved his son and he was everything for her but he was in wrong path. Authorities authorized intimate visits by the money and this was the only chance for her to see her son again and give him some goods. She came with heavy bags and hugged him. She was wearing a thin black yoga pants that didn't let anything to imagination and a white top that showed her huge tits cleavage and her thick arms. He grabbed her hips while hugging her. He could feel the string of her thong beneath the fabric. She caressed his neck and chest a d shoulders. Her son was more buffed since he was in prison. They seat each other while talking and showing him the groceries. The room was small, the bed was hard but comfy at least. It was s Avery hot day. The ate and watched tv. He was wearing a Jean. She told her to have a cold shower since there was a normal shower . He hadn't seen one a in a while.But he hestiated saying he wasn't wearing underwear. She said she bought him some clothes along with a pair of slips underwear. He didn't got excuses now. She took a towel ang went to the small bathroom. He couldn't take her eyes from his ass and tits. It was wider while she was sitting there. And the fabric more. He grabbed a towel and went to the shower. He showered, wrapped a towel at his waist an got out the bathroom. She was giving her back sitting at the bed. She turned to her son to give him the underwear. He was already semi bard. It was a long time he didn't see a woman and he was watching the most beautiful one. The outline of his big dick was somewhat visible under the towel. He said thanks and took it. She turned back to the tv so he could get dressed. He was nervous. But in some way he felt like free being having that confidence around mom. He unwrapped the towel completely exposing his semi hard cock . He looked the pair it slips with doubt. They were kinda small . He doubted that could pack his 23cm . Effectively they were so small his big semi hard dick pushed the fabric making a tent-like effect there, leaving a space there. They looked so ridiculous as arousing. She suddenly turned back again asking g if they're ok but both started to laugh looking how they fit. This is for teens mom he laughed. Oh really she said? Laughing at least to forget the wasted money. She said she barely could check the waist size she had a very limited time preparing this visit. But the situation was turning more exciting than fun. His balls were visible the tent in his bulge. They aren't that small she protested in a joking tone. He said I will get the jeans again, as he went to the bathroom she said she bought a short too. He took the jeans but they've fallen to the wet floor now they were useless. He came back taking the shorts and she turned to the tv without before glancing his dick again . His balls were clearly visible. He took them off but she suddenly turner back again asking if they're better. With the shorts in his hands and his hard dick fully exposed he said let's see and put them on . The effect of his mom being in from if his 23cm hard dick made his heart pump fast and he turned red. But he didn't cover him self. She never had problem with him being around naked while dressing. But that years ago when he was younger. He didn't knew she was still so confident about it. She would repeatedly glance his dick while he putted the shorts. She was proud of her son , and the fact that she was the cause of his erection filled her with joy and youth . Well they're some better he said. The shorts barely fitted but the contour of his hard dick was still visible. It was not only his big bulge. His muscles had grown since he was in prison. May be the prison gym or the testosterone. But there was the only thing there was to wear and be said, I guess for sleep they're ok and both laughed. She pinched a bit of the fabric without touching his dick, saying oh baby next time I'll be more careful. He said don't worry mom. His dick still hard under the thin shorts. He asked what she was watching and she turned back to the TV commenting about it.

Female POV. So I stayed over at my best friend’s place again. Nothing new, we’ve done it a hundred times. But this time her brother was home too — apparently back from a work trip or something. He’s older, maybe late 20s or early 30s, super quiet. Not awkward, just the type who doesn't talk unless there's something worth saying. Honestly? I never really paid attention to him before. But now… he looks different. Way taller than I remembered. Broader. Cleaner cut. There’s this calm, lowkey confidence to him now that I hadn’t noticed before. And the way he looked at me when I arrived? It wasn’t the look of someone seeing his sister’s best friend anymore. Anyway. That night, after we hung out and watched some dumb movie, my best friend went to bed early. I stayed up a bit then decided to shower before crashing in the guest room. The bathroom’s kind of between their rooms, and I realized, too late, I didn’t bring clean underwear from my bag. I figured I’d find something in the cabinet — my friend usually keeps some spare stuff for guests. I opened a drawer… and that’s when I saw them. Folded up. Clean. A pair of gray boxers. Not the thin, flimsy kind — the soft, structured kind that look like they actually belong to someone. I held them for a second, just looking. I knew they weren’t hers. I knew exactly whose they were. And I stood there, just wrapped in a towel, holding her brother’s underwear and thinking: Would it be that weird? I mean, it’s not like I was gonna do anything with them. I just didn’t want to sleep with nothing on. And they were right there. So… I put them on. And wow. I don’t know what I was expecting, but they felt nice. A little loose at the waistband, but snug in the right places. They sat low on my hips, the fabric soft against my skin. I looked in the mirror for a second and couldn’t help but smirk. I shouldn’t have looked that good in his boxers. But I did. Right as I was reaching for my shirt, I heard his voice — right outside the door. “You good in there?” I froze. “Yeah! Just getting dressed!” Silence. I didn’t hear footsteps after that. Not for a few seconds. Like maybe he stayed there, listening. Or maybe I was just imagining it. I slipped on my shirt and went straight to bed, heart still racing. The next morning, I walked into the kitchen to grab coffee. He was already there. Hoodie on, hair messy, sipping from a mug. He looked up at me, eyes lingering just a little too long. Just enough to make it obvious he noticed something. And then — I swear — he smirked. Like he knew. I didn’t say anything. Just smiled, grabbed my cup, and leaned on the counter like nothing was weird. But all I could think was… What if he really knew I was wearing them? And more importantly — what would he do if he found them in my laundry later?