Dirty Little Secret – (Part 23) “He bent me over her tub and came on my ass.”

It had only been fifteen minutes since she’d left for brunch.

I watched her car pull out of the driveway from down the street, then slipped the key he gave me into the front door. I was quiet, like I belonged there. Like I’d done it before.

Because I had.

He didn’t even greet me… just pulled me inside, slammed the door shut, and kissed me like he’d been starving for it. His hands went straight to my ass, gripping me like he owned me, like he had the right to do this behind her back, in her house.

“You have ten minutes,” I whispered, dragging him down the hallway. “No more.”

We didn’t make it past the bathroom.

The door was still cracked from when she’d left it open, steam lingering like a memory. The mirror was fogged. Her towel still hung over the rail, damp and warm. Her body had just been here. Naked. Wet. Clean.

I didn’t care.

I peeled my clothes off, stepped onto the bathmat she’d just stood on, and bent over the edge of the tub. I could still smell her shampoo in the air which was something sweet and innocent, like flowers and trust.

He stepped in behind me, already hard, already breathing heavy. I looked at him over my shoulder and spread my legs, arching my back just enough.

“You’re hard for me already?”

“For days,” he grunted, grabbing my hips.

Then he pushed inside. No warning. Just the stretch of his cock filling me in one long, hard thrust. I gasped, the porcelain edge digging into my stomach as he started fucking me rough. No warm-up. No slow build. Just raw need and filthy memory.

“Right here?” he panted. “She just—she was just—”

“I know,” I moaned, biting my lip. “She washed her pussy in this tub and now you’re wrecking mine over it.”

That pushed him over the edge. His pace turned brutal, fast and unforgiving. The sound of skin on skin echoed through the small space, drowned only by my breathless moans and the slap of his hips. His fingers dug bruises into my sides.

“I wanted you here,” I whispered, looking into the fogged-up mirror. “Wanted her shampoo in my lungs while you filled me up.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, thrusting even deeper. “You want me to cum on you?”

“Do it,” I hissed. “Cum on my ass. Make a mess for her to clean later.”

He pulled out fast, grunted hard, and stroked himself until he spilled thick over my skin… hot and heavy. It ran down my ass, dripping onto her bathmat, leaving streaks she wouldn’t notice but I’d never forget.

He stood behind me, chest heaving, cock twitching, eyes locked on the mess he made.

And I just smiled over my shoulder, reaching for her damp towel to wipe myself off.

“Next time,” I whispered, wrapping the towel around me like it was mine, “I want to ride you while she’s in her room.”