His Best Friend - The Game

Part 2

“Bend over, quick.” Michael said, pushing my back down, startling me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, afraid my husband might have heard.

“He’s gone to the shop to pick up some more beer during halftime.” He said, while lifting my skirt and trying to bend me over on the kitchen table.

“Stop! We don’t have time.” I said, still hushed.

“I don’t need to come. I just need to feel your cunt.”

“Romantic.” I said.

“Shut up and take it.” He said, his voice dripping with urgency.

“Stop, I’m not even wet yet.” I said, pushing against his hand on my back.

“Don’t give me that. You’re always wet for me.” He used his feet to separate my legs, and then reached around me with his hand, his fingers delving deep between my quickly wetting lips.

“That’ll do.” He added, feeling the proof of my wetness for him.

I gasped at the sudden violation. He bent me fully over and took me from behind, pushing himself inside me deep and hard. My hips locked against the front of the table, my stomach and chest pressed firmly into the wood from his hand, holding me tightly at the nape.