Black MILF Has Fight with Husband, Runs to Secret Lover for some BWC

As I park my BMW, I take a quick look in the rearview mirror, satisfied with my appearance under the circumstances. My figure is subtly accentuated by a revealing top that leaves little to the imagination. A light jacket serves as my attempt to dress with some decency. The fabric of my shorts hangs loosely around my hips. They end just above the curve of my bottom. With every step I take, I feel a sense of liberation and adventure.

I seek retribution against my husband... There's nothing like the anger of a woman my age who's been scorned!

Casually strolling through the parking lot, I walk briskly, knowing where I am going. I soon arrive at the door. I knock with anticipation, hoping he is alone. The door swings open to reveal Dylan - a man - standing shirtless, wearing a pair of sweatpants that accentuate his muscular physique.

"Hey there! What brings you here?" he says, surprised. Though now may not be the time to reminisce or dwell on memories.

I don't answer, but instead gently lead him away, closing the door and locking it behind us.

"Hey, it's good to see you, Janelle. It's been such a long time. What's on your mind?"

"It's something that I don't really feel like talking about right now."

I push him against the door and lean in. I give him a kiss. Surprised at first, he soon reciprocates as our desire rekindles like a fire until we reluctantly part.

"I need to talk to you," I whisper softly. "It's important."

He nods understandingly, taking my hand in his and leading me to the couch. We sit close together, inches between us; his warmth envelops me and my heart races.

"What's going on?" he asks softly.

I take a breath and try to compose myself. "I apologize for the way things were left between us," I begin.

"I just want to say... I really missed you," I express, gently cupping his face and pulling it closer to mine. There is an intensity to our kiss this time, fueled by our previously dormant lust. As our hands explore each other's bodies, rediscovering the curves and angles, I find myself captivated by the sensation of his lips against mine. But in the midst of this pleasure, it's important for me to remember my purpose here...thoughts of my jackass husband on my mind.

"Dylan," I say, looking into his eyes, "I didn't come here for kisses. I came here to be fucked by you!"

***.Dylan

As we step into the bedroom, an undeniable anticipation begins to build within me. The allure of being with a black woman has always captivated my desires and she hasn't forgotten that since our last encounter. Although I try to suppress these feelings, her hand confidently ventures down the front of my sweatpants; she already knows that she'll soon have what she wants. With a movement, she removes her shirt. She casually tosses it aside before pulling her skimpy shorts (no panties) down to her ankles. Her body remains as seductive as it was during our passionate encounter months ago.

Retreating further towards the bed, she positions herself against the headboard before pausing.

"Come on Dylan...Please me with your tongue!"

I do so, until she tells me it's time for penetration.

"That's enough! Fuck me!"

"Uhh, one moment, let me get a condom from the drawer," I say, somewhat awkwardly.

"No condoms, Dylan. Lie on your back!"

I do as she says, my long and stiff member standing tall as she straddles me and positions herself in the reverse cowgirl position. As she lowers herself onto my shaft, a wave of intense pleasure washes over us both.

"Ohh," I exclaim."This feels so fucking good!"

"Tell me how it feels, darling," she says.

Tonight, she exudes passion and determination. It seems as though her very survival relies on the depth of our connection. I fix my gaze ahead, appreciating her allure and the way she moves gracefully on top of me.

I moan softly, reaching out to hold her buttocks.

The rhythmic sounds of our bodies intertwining fill the room. As her climax approaches, she tenses up with force.

She exclaims passionately, 'Wow! Yes!' and presses down while swaying back and forth.

After minutes of silence, she asks, 'You're doing alright, sweetheart?' and receives a response of 'Mmmm hmmm... Fine.'

She changes position, getting on all fours and arching her back before raising her hips in anticipation. I grip the small of her back and thrust forward, savoring every sensation as I glide along the contours of her inner walls. Our bodies intertwine, filling the bedroom with the sounds of our passion, my hips swaying back and forth with increasing intensity, until finally, we both orgasm. Sharing our fluids, we collapse, spent. I hold her close, our chests heaving as we are left in a blissful postcoital haze.