The afternoon sun spilled through the half-drawn blinds, casting warm stripes across the bed where Keith sat, naked, his thick thighs spread just enough to let the air brush against his heavy balls. He wasn’t supposed to be here—not like this, not with her. But Carrie had made it impossible to say no.
She’d always been a temptation, a walking fantasy in tight dresses and knowing smiles, the kind of woman who carried herself like she was aware of every hungry glance. Now, standing at the foot of the bed, she was even more devastating without a stitch of clothing. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, framing full, heavy tits that swayed slightly as she moved. The curve of her hips, the way her thighs pressed together just enough to tease—Keith’s cock had been hard since the moment she’d walked in, but now it was throbbing, thick and veiny, jutting obscenely upward.
“God, look at you,” Carrie purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she crawled onto the bed, her knees sinking into the mattress. “All that meat just for me.” She straddled his lap, her wet pussy brushing against the underside of his shaft as she settled against him. Keith groaned, his hands flying to her tits before he could stop himself. He squeezed, his thumbs finding her stiff nipples, rolling them between his fingers like he was starving. His mouth followed, lips sealing around one peak, tongue swirling as he sucked hard enough to make her gasp.
Carrie arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. “That’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice thick with mocking affection. “You’ve been dreaming about these, haven’t you? Dreaming about mommy?” She pressed her tits together, offering them up like a feast, and Keith lost himself. He switched from one nipple to the other, his free hand groping, kneading, his cock twitching violently between them. The wet sounds of his mouth, the way her skin flushed under his attention—it was too much. His balls drew up tight, his spine locking as pleasure coiled low in his gut.
“Fuck—” He tried to pull back, but Carrie gripped his hair, holding him in place.
“Uh-uh,” she chided, her voice a dark purr. “You wanted this. You wanted me.” She rocked her hips, her slick folds dragging against his shaft, and that was it. With a choked groan, Keith came, his cock pulsing, ropes of thick come painting Carrie’s stomach, her tits, dripping down between them. His body jerked with each spasm, his face buried against her chest as shame crashed over him.
Carrie went still. Then, slowly, she pushed him back, her expression twisting into something between disgust and dark amusement. “Oh, baby,” she cooed, her fingers trailing through the mess on her skin. “Did mommy get you too excited?” She laughed, low and cruel, as Keith’s face burned. He’d never come like this—not without warning, not without control. His cock, still half-hard, twitched pathetically against his stomach, a traitorous reminder of his failure.
“Pathetic,” Carrie sighed, shaking her head. She scooped up a fingerful of come and held it out to him. “Clean it up.”
Keith hesitated, but the look in her eyes brooked no argument. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lap at her skin, the salty taste of his own release filling his mouth. His cock gave another weak twitch, but Carrie just smirked, pushing his head down until his face was pressed against her stomach.
“Good boy,” she murmured, her nails scraping lightly over his scalp. “But let’s be honest—you’re useless, aren’t you? All that dick and you can’t even last five minutes.” She grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “How does your wife even stand you? Does she know her best friend’s husband is a two-pump loser?”
Keith’s throat tightened. His cock, once so proud, now felt like a dead weight between his legs. Tears pricked at his eyes, humiliation burning through him as Carrie’s laughter filled the room.
“Aw, don’t cry, baby,” she crooned, cupping his face. “Mommy’s just too much for you, isn’t she?” She guided his mouth back to her breast, and he latched on like a desperate child, his tears mixing with the spit trailing down her skin. Carrie sighed, stroking his hair as he sobbed against her, his big hands clutching at her like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning.
“That’s right,” she murmured, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Just nurse on mommy. Maybe if you’re really good, I’ll let you try again someday.” She tilted his face up, her thumb brushing over his wet lips. “But let’s be real—you’ll just embarrass yourself all over again.”
Keith whimpered, his cock giving one last, pitiful twitch. Carrie smirked, pushing him back onto the bed before standing up, her body glistening with his come. “Clean yourself up,” she said, grabbing her robe from the chair. “And next time you look at me, remember this is all you’ll ever be.”
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Keith alone, his cock softening, his pride in tatters. Somewhere in the house, he could hear Carrie’s laughter, light and mocking, as she poured herself a glass of wine—probably to wash the taste of his failure from her mouth.
He should’ve known better. A man like him didn’t get to have a woman like her. And now, he never would.