Elena strode into the bedroom with a wicked smirk, her curves accentuated by the tight dress she'd worn for her secret rendezvous. Mark looked up from his book, sensing the shift in the air. "Home early, darling? Or did your little errands bore you already?" he asked, trying to sound casual. She laughed sharply, tossing her phone onto the nightstand. "Bored? Hardly. But you will be useful tonight—lie down, husband. My ass needs a throne, and your face is it."
Mark hesitated, but her commanding glare pinned him. "What's this about?" he muttered as she shoved him flat. Elena climbed over him, hiking up her skirt to reveal her bare, already glistening pussy. "It's about you remembering your place while I chat with someone who actually gets me wet," she said, lowering her dripping folds onto his mouth. "Now lick, or I'll make it worse." His tongue met her heat reluctantly at first, but she ground down aggressively, riding his face with humiliating force.
"God, your cock's already hard under there—pathetic," she panted, reaching for her phone and dialing. "Hey, lover," she purred into the receiver, her voice dripping with lust as she rocked harder on Mark's face. "My useless husband is right where he belongs, tongue-deep in my pussy while I talk to you. He's sweating like a dog, but he can't satisfy me like you do."
Mark groaned beneath her, his protests muffled by her ass smothering him. Elena laughed, the sound sharp and witty. "Hear that? He's trying to complain, but all he gets is my wet pussy riding him. Tell me, boyfriend, how hard is your cock thinking about this? Mine's dripping all over his humiliated face." She bounced faster, her thighs clamping tight, using him like a toy while chatting casually about their next meetup.
"Oh yes, keep talking dirty," she moaned to the phone, her body tensing as she came hard, flooding Mark's mouth with her juices. "My husband's cock is throbbing untouched—poor thing won't get any release tonight. You're the only one who makes me scream." Panting, she continued the call, humiliating Mark further with every detail of her affair, her strong grip on his head ensuring he couldn't escape her aggressive rhythm.
She hung up after a final filthy promise, sliding off his flushed face with a satisfied grin. Mark gasped for air, his own arousal evident but ignored. "Clean up, husband," she ordered, already planning her exit. "This was just the warm-up."
"Next time, you'll beg to watch me take him for real."
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