Zainab eased the front door shut behind her, leaving her husband Neemat lost in his usual evening stupor on the couch. Married life had grown predictable, but her secret meetings with Buck stirred a fire she never expected as a straight woman. Tonight marked another step in their year-long affair, one that pulled her back despite the risks.
Buck answered his apartment door with that knowing half-smile. "Late again, Zainab? Neemat must be keeping you busy—or is it the other way around?" His voice carried a teasing edge that matched her own wit.
"Busy? Hardly. The man's idea of excitement is channel-surfing," she shot back, stepping inside and locking the door. "You, on the other hand, make me wonder why I ever settled. What's your excuse for looking so damn tempting?"
They circled each other in the dim light, trading barbs that crackled with heat until Zainab shoved him toward the bedroom. "Enough talk. Show me what you've got." Buck's strap-on cock strained hard against his jeans as she stripped him, her hands firm and unyielding. She dropped to her knees for a slow, deliberate blowjob, tongue tracing every inch while he groaned.
"God, you're wet already," Buck panted, but Zainab took control, pushing him onto the bed and straddling him. "My pussy decides when we start," she said, lowering herself onto his hard cock with a gasp. Her ass rocked against him as they moved, sweat glistening on their skin, both horny and lost in the rhythm. She rode him fiercely, her strong thighs gripping tight while he thrust up to meet her.
Buck's cock drove deeper, making her pussy drip with every stroke. They came together in a rush of cum and panting breaths, bodies slick and trembling from the intensity. Zainab collapsed beside him, satisfied yet already plotting their next risk.
But as she traced his chest, she knew one year would never be enough.
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