Cheating In Plain Sight

Valentina Nappi's neighbors think her husband's come home. They see him slip inside, kiss her at the door, wave from the window. But he's thousands of miles away. The man kissing her now is Katrina Colt in heavy boots and a fake beard, striding through the threshold like he owns the place. Door slams. The mask drops. Their mouths slam together, hungry, wet, grinding. Katrina tears Valentina's dress open, shoves her against the couch, yanks her panties aside. Tongues dive. Fingers spread, probe, scrape. They trade places, Valentina on her back, Katrina straddling her face, grinding until her thighs shake. She comes loud and filthy, but it isn't enough. Katrina drags the strap-on from her bag, snaps it on, pushes Valentina down hard. She fucks her rough—thrusting deep, biting her shoulder, whispering filth into her ear while the blonde wife claws at the cushions and begs for more, soaking the leather couch, legs spread wide like a woman who's long since stopped pretending to be faithful.