Sweet Death
– I'm about to come...
I felt Pavel's body shudder and hot semen enter me in spurts. I pouted resentfully; I hadn't had time to catch my own pleasure. Pavel rolled off me and was snoring within a minute, while I was just left itching between my legs and the desire didn't go anywhere. I was ready to climb the walls from the thirst for sex.
I went to the bathroom under the shower to pull myself together a bit. "That bastard Pashka, he's sleeping soundly while I'm left to suffer now." My hand slid down, I stroked my labia, and in response to my caresses, juices started flowing from me. Then I inserted one finger into myself, then two, and in the end, three went in. I moved them
in and out, faster and faster... One last time and I felt myself flying off somewhere. After quickly taking a shower, satisfied, I lay down next to Pashka and fell asleep...I woke up late, stretched blissfully, remembering my little mischief in the shower. Pavel wasn't there; he had already left for work. I decided to have a sip of coffee. My routine was interrupted by a knock at the door.
– Hello, there's something with your neighbors' pipe, may I check from your side?
– Yes, of course, come in.
I led the plumber to the kitchen, and he started inspecting the pipes. Meanwhile, I, closing my eyes, sipped my coffee. I remembered how I had caressed myself, how I had inserted my fingers one after another. In short, I got so aroused that I didn't even notice my hands reaching under my robe. With familiar motions, I was fucking myself with my fingers, and a moan escaped my lips. I snapped out of it from the ringing silence. Opening my eyes in fright, I saw the plumber. He was looking at me in such a way that I even blushed. In his tight-fitting overalls, his huge cock was clearly visible, at full attention.
With trembling hands, he unfastened the straps and pulled his pants down to his knees. I didn't have time to say a word before I was already on the table. I wanted him like I had never wanted anyone before. I had never cheated on my husband, but now I understood I couldn't refuse sex with a stranger. The plumber untied my robe—luckily, there was nothing underneath—and grabbed my breasts.
– Fuck me, I'm begging you...
I couldn't take it anymore; if he didn't enter me now, I would mount him myself. At that moment, I felt the huge cock enter me. It was just the right size; my leathery pussy tightly sheathed it. "Much bigger than Pashka's little pod," I thought. Remembering all the years of my dissatisfaction, I decided to take everything from this mating. My body arched, and I began to thrust in rhythm with him, getting even more pleasure. Now I truly understood the phrase "fucked to the tonsils." Unable to hold back, I moaned loudly...
* * * * * * *
Pavel had to go home for documents; his boss was absolutely furious. He needed the papers in an hour, or... Pavel didn't listen to the rest and drove home.
– Honey, are you home?
He closed the door and entered the bedroom; the folder was on the armchair. Suddenly, Pavel heard rhythmic sounds and his wife's moan. Peeking through the kitchen door, he saw this scene: his wife, lying like a total slut, was being fucked by some guy. She was moaning with pleasure, scratching his back.
Pavel's mind clouded over. He rushed into the room and took a pistol from the dresser. In the last moment of her life, his wife was happy.
Two shots, and that was it. Pavel lost consciousness.