The rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, hard and fast. My hands gripped the edge of the bed, my body arched forward as I felt my husband’s familiar thrusts from behind. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me back onto him, and I moaned into the pillow, my voice muffled but desperate. It felt good—so good—but something was different tonight. Something… more. His cock was hitting deeper, stretching me in a way that made my toes curl and my breath catch in my throat.What’s gotten into him? I thought, my mind foggy with pleasure. The bed creaked louder, the pace faster, almost frantic. I whimpered, feeling the familiar coil of heat tightening in my core. But then I noticed it—the size, the thickness. It wasn’t just my imagination. It was bigger. Too big. My heart skipped a beat, and I twisted my head to look over my shoulder, my hair sticking to my sweat-dampened skin. It wasn’t my husband.My eyes widened as I took in the sight of my neighbor, Mark, standing behind me, his muscular frame glistening in the dim light of our bedroom. His hands gripped my hips tightly, his cock buried deep inside me, pumping with a possessive rhythm that made my legs tremble. My mouth fell open, but no words came out—just a strangled gasp as he smirked down at me, his blue eyes dark with lust.“What the fuck—?” I finally managed to choke out, my voice hoarse, my mind racing. My husband was supposed to be home. He was supposed to be the one fucking me.Mark didn’t stop. If anything, he thrust harder, his cock filling me in a way that made my vision blur. “Couldn’t help myself,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel. “Saw you through the window. Bending over. Looking so fucking hot. I had to have you.”My breath hitched, and I gripped the sheets tighter, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. His hands moved from my hips to my ass, kneading the flesh as he continued to pistón his hips against mine. “You’re so wet,” he growled, his tone almost accusatory. “You feel so fucking good, Claire. I couldn’t lose this chance.”I should have screamed. I should have fought him off. But my body betrayed me, arching back into him as he hit a spot inside me that made my thighs quiver. “Mark…” I whispered, his name slipping out like a secret I’d been keeping for far too long. He leaned over me, his chest pressing against my back, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice teasing, almost taunting. But he didn’t slow down—if anything, he went faster, harder, his cock slamming into me with a force that made me gasp. “Go on. Tell me to stop, and I will.”I opened my mouth to protest, to demand he get off me, but all that came out was a moan—a long, desperate sound that made him chuckle darkly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he muttered, his hands roaming over my body, exploring me like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. One hand slid around to my front, his fingers finding my clit with unerring precision. I cried out, my hips bucking into his hand as he rubbed me in tight, deliberate circles. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with confidence. “You like being fucked like this. Like a slut.”His words should have made me angry, but instead, they sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. My nails dug into the mattress as I felt my orgasm building, hot and urgent, coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I might explode. “Mark, I—” I started, but he cut me off with a sharp thrust that stole my breath.“Don’t talk,” he ordered, his voice firm but not unkind. “Just feel it. Let go, Claire.”And I did. With a cry that turned into a sob, I came, my body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me gasping and trembling in his arms. Mark didn’t stop, driving into me through my orgasm, his cock relentless as he chased his own release.“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he finally came, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with his warmth. He collapsed against me for a moment, his breath hot against my skin, before pulling out and stepping back.I turned around slowly, my legs weak, my body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Mark stood there, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock still hard, glistening with my wetness. He looked at me with a hunger that made my stomach flip, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something else—something dangerous.“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you do this?”He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “Because I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admitted, his voice soft now, almost tender. “And I couldn’t let this chance slip away. Not when you were right there, looking so damn perfect.”I stared at him, my mind reeling, my body still tingling from what he’d just done to me. I should have been furious. I should have slapped him. But all I could think about was how good it had felt—how right it had felt. Mark’s hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. “Tell me you didn’t want it,” he said, his voice challenging, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was hungry, demanding, and I kissed him back, my hands tangling in his hair as he pulled me closer.“Don’t lie to me, Claire,” he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with need. “Don’t lie to yourself.”My mind was spinning, my body still alive with the sensation of him. But there was no time to think, no time to process. Because Mark was kissing me again, his hands roaming over my body, reawakening the fire he’d just stoked inside me.“Do you want more?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes burning into mine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”I hesitated for just a moment, my mind warring with my body. But then I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”

The rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, hard and fast. My hands gripped the edge of the bed, my body arched forward as I felt my husband’s familiar thrusts from behind. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me back onto him, and I moaned into the pillow, my voice muffled but desperate. It felt good—__so good__—but something was different tonight. Something… __more__. His cock was hitting deeper, stretching me in a way that made my toes curl and my breath catch in my throat.

_What’s gotten into him?_ I thought, my mind foggy with pleasure. The bed creaked louder, the pace faster, almost frantic. I whimpered, feeling the familiar coil of heat tightening in my core. But then I noticed it—the size, the thickness. It wasn’t just my imagination. It was *bigger*. Too big. My heart skipped a beat, and I twisted my head to look over my shoulder, my hair sticking to my sweat-dampened skin. 

__It wasn’t my husband.__

My eyes widened as I took in the sight of my neighbor, *Mark*, standing behind me, his muscular frame glistening in the dim light of our bedroom. His hands gripped my hips tightly, his cock buried deep inside me, pumping with a possessive rhythm that made my legs tremble. My mouth fell open, but no words came out—just a strangled gasp as he smirked down at me, his blue eyes dark with lust.

“What the fuck—?” I finally managed to choke out, my voice hoarse, my mind racing. My husband was supposed to be home. *He was supposed to be the one fucking me.*

Mark didn’t stop. If anything, he thrust harder, his cock filling me in a way that made my vision blur. “Couldn’t help myself,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel. “Saw you through the window. Bending over. Looking so fucking hot. I had to have you.”

My breath hitched, and I gripped the sheets tighter, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. His hands moved from my hips to my ass, kneading the flesh as he continued to pistón his hips against mine. “You’re so wet,” he growled, his tone almost accusatory. “You feel so fucking good, Claire. I couldn’t lose this chance.”

I should have screamed. I should have fought him off. But my body betrayed me, arching back into him as he hit a spot inside me that made my thighs quiver. “Mark…” I whispered, his name slipping out like a secret I’d been keeping for far too long. 

He leaned over me, his chest pressing against my back, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice teasing, almost taunting. But he didn’t slow down—if anything, he went faster, harder, his cock slamming into me with a force that made me gasp. “Go on. Tell me to stop, and I will.”

I opened my mouth to protest, to demand he get off me, but all that came out was a moan—a long, desperate sound that made him chuckle darkly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he muttered, his hands roaming over my body, exploring me like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. 

One hand slid around to my front, his fingers finding my clit with unerring precision. I cried out, my hips bucking into his hand as he rubbed me in tight, deliberate circles. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with confidence. “You like being fucked like this. Like a slut.”

His words should have made me angry, but instead, they sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. My nails dug into the mattress as I felt my orgasm building, hot and urgent, coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I might explode. “Mark, I—” I started, but he cut me off with a sharp thrust that stole my breath.

“Don’t talk,” he ordered, his voice firm but not unkind. “Just feel it. Let go, Claire.”

And I did. With a cry that turned into a sob, I came, my body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me gasping and trembling in his arms. Mark didn’t stop, driving into me through my orgasm, his cock relentless as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he finally came, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with his warmth. He collapsed against me for a moment, his breath hot against my skin, before pulling out and stepping back.

I turned around slowly, my legs weak, my body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Mark stood there, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock still hard, glistening with my wetness. He looked at me with a hunger that made my stomach flip, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something else—something dangerous.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you do this?”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “Because I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admitted, his voice soft now, almost tender. “And I couldn’t let this chance slip away. Not when you were right there, looking so damn perfect.”

I stared at him, my mind reeling, my body still tingling from what he’d just done to me. I should have been furious. I should have slapped him. But all I could think about was how good it had felt—how *right* it had felt. 

Mark’s hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. “Tell me you didn’t want it,” he said, his voice challenging, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was hungry, demanding, and I kissed him back, my hands tangling in his hair as he pulled me closer.

“Don’t lie to me, Claire,” he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with need. “Don’t lie to yourself.”

My mind was spinning, my body still alive with the sensation of him. But there was no time to think, no time to process. Because Mark was kissing me again, his hands roaming over my body, reawakening the fire he’d just stoked inside me.

“Do you want more?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes burning into mine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

I hesitated for just a moment, my mind warring with my body. But then I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. 

“Yes.”

Start

Everyday routine clips away, altered abruptly by the illicitsurge of a reckless desire as a woman is taken violently from behind by her neighbor who has broken into her home and is mistaken for her partner. At a startling glance looking over her shoulder she completely unaware that he is her neighbor,  the woman realizes the identity of the one ravaging innocently of such illicit impulsive craving forcing her to let in the desire of this provocative act.

The woman doesn't stop him as he continues to declare how he cant take the urge. She finds the pleasure of the deception too good to turn down.

After climaxing from the forbidden fruits she inquires to her neighbor questioning why what he did, she states with resolve not to continue the dangerous repeating activity of the dark craving.

The drastic change in her neighborhood interactions let her know she must suppress her inclination for the pleasure of forbidden acts.She misunderstands if Mark acted due to complying to some instinctual desires over the mundane derived from the stranger such as his intense sexual need and possessiveness.
After staring for a long time to himself she reviews whats happened to her, her mind races there is a click a force telling her to periodically give in to such activity but an ongoing urge tells her to resist too. This shot always must continue and cyclical emergence of pleasure forbidden and dangerous.
After reflecting a little longer she determines her decision to let forbidden intimacy continue.

It's not simply complete enjoyment alone, but the much more uninhibited, dangerous energy.

Climaxing multiple times with his mouth as he engulfs pussy.

I Thought He Was My Husband

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