Naughty America
·
April 17, 2014
August Ames in I Have a Wife
Johnny slouched at his usual dive, drowning his blue balls in whiskey because his wife had iced him out of the bedroom and flew into a rage if she caught him stroking his aching cock. "I only get to bury it in her on the fucking holidays now," he growled to the bartender, voice thick with pent-up frustration.
August, nursing her drink nearby, overheard every word and felt her neglected pussy clench. Fresh off ditching her cheating ex right before the altar, she was dripping for a no-strings fix. She slid closer and whispered a filthy solution—her tight, willing body to drain him dry—but Johnny shook his head, too loyal to cheat.
Holidays were an eternity away. The bartender suddenly barked that he was ducking into the stockroom to count bottles and told Johnny to guard the bar, "Don't let anyone steal shit." A slow, wicked smile spread across August's lips as she hiked her skirt. He never said a damn thing about not bending her over the counter and pounding her dripping cunt raw.