We stepped through the door, the scent of her perfume mixed with something muskier clinging to the air. Priya's short white pleated skirt swayed just above mid-thigh, paired with sheer transparent skin-tone stockings that hugged her legs like a second skin, the kind that made my pulse race even before she spoke. Her tone had shifted already, lighter, more playful than the shy bride I'd married months ago. "Darling, you won't believe how his hands felt under this skirt," she said, locking the door with a wink, her body language open and teasing as she leaned against the wall. I felt my cock harden instantly at the image. She pulled me close, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "He slid right under the pleats, fingers teasing my wet pussy through the stockings until they tore. I begged for more, panting like a horny slut." Her hand found my hard cock through my pants, stroking slowly as she described every thrust, every moan, how his bigger cock made her cum harder than ever. "Yours is nice, love, but his... it filled me so deep. I came all over him, dripping down my thighs." She pushed me onto the couch, straddling my lap without removing the skirt, her stockings now ripped at the crotch, and guided me inside her slick, used pussy. We moved together in a frenzy, her dirty talk relentless: "Feel how wet he left me? Jerk that cock thinking about it while I ride you." Panting and sweating, she came again, then finished me with her hand, cum spilling over her fingers as she laughed softly. "Next time, cucky, maybe he'll come here." She kissed me tenderly, love in her eyes. "But for now, this is our little secret." Her fingers lingered on my spent cock, promising more adventures ahead.
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