This weekend, I behaved like a real bitch in heat with Edouard. On Friday evening, barely in bed, he began to read Les Echos as he usually does. When I undressed, I took everything off except my hold-ups. I slipped under the duvet, pulled his tail out of his pajama pants and took it in my mouth. Surprised, he threw his newspaper on the floor and put his hands on my hair so that I completely covered it. Once he was stiff, I came over him and impaled myself on his cock. In a few minutes, it spread through me.After this rapid morning conjugal coitus, Sunday goes normally; Edouard and I each go about our own business in the apartment. At the beginning of the afternoon, I allow myself a little rest in my favorite armchair in the living room, listening to a few tunes from the Callas. It's relaxing but I keep asking myself questions - Would this young Arab have awakened my desires?- Is it normal to have had several devastating orgasms with him?- Should a woman deprive herself of sexual pleasures because her husband is no longer too brave?- Is it really adultery to take pleasure without sharing the slightest feeling?- With age, shouldn't a woman remember to take advantage of her charms before they fade?I have no idea whether music softens manners, but I know that it does not provide answers to my many questions.In the evening, to prevent my husband from worrying about my sudden sexual frenzy, I choose to give myself pleasure in the shower with my sextoy. But I must admit that the object quickly seemed much too small compared to what I had known a few days earlier in the city of Morocco.On Monday at the end of the afternoon, I received a new text message from Madame Dahout "Madame de Trébout, can you come by tomorrow around 12:00? I have the papers ”. I immediately replied "Yes, I will be there." See you tomorrow ". I tell myself that the sooner I have completed the file on this family, the sooner I will be able to forget this incident which is obsessing me. In the evening at home, despite the urge to masturbate that torments my lower abdomen, I decide to resist it. There is no doubt that by making some efforts, I must be able to move on to something else to resume a normal life more in line with my habits.The next morning, when Edouard has already left for his bank, I am still in my dressing gown and I hesitate about what to wear. I must be careful not to be BCBG in the event that the son is still there; no need to provoke him by showing him my legs too much. So I take out of my closet a very classic long dress and a little cardigan that will go very well with it. A light coat over it will complement my outfit. However, I hesitate about lingerie. It must be 11:30 am when I leave my office behind the wheel of my little electric Twingo ZE. I explained to the work colleagues with whom I have lunch that I have a medical appointment and therefore will not be able to join them as usual. I preferred to sort out the truth a little because it is not in the service's customs to have professional meetings outside of normal working hours. Question of insurance and civil liability it seems in the event of incidents or accidents.I am on time and have no problem quickly reaching the apartment of the Dahout family on the 8th floor of building C in the city of Morocco. I ring and am surprised that it is again the son who opens me. He lets me in and announces me straight away- My mom just called me. She is held back at her job!I look at him for a few moments and then I answer him - It doesn't matter! As I have another appointment in the area, I cannot hang around. Do you have the two missing papers?He asks me to follow him into the kitchen where his mother hung the papers on the fridge so as not to forget them. So I am and here we are in a small kitchen. He picks up a piece of paper and hands it to me, saying - The other piece of paper, she hasn't got it yet!I take the paper in hand but he does not let go. He comes closer to me and adds - You'll have to come back again. Doesn't that bother you?I answer him without letting go of the document and staring him straight in the eye to show him that he's not intimidating me - Why would that bother me? I fear nothing !He is now very close to me, suddenly releases the sheet of paper and, before I can react, places both of his hands on my butt. It is by talking to me that he retorts me - No, you're not afraid! I just wanna do you good like the other day!Like last time, his mouth grabs mine, and he searches me with his tongue. Placing my hands on his chest, I try to push him away but it's impossible. One of his hands is now on my back at the bottom of my back and with the other he forbids me to move my head to escape his kiss. He tells me- It excites me that you struggle! But you know very well that you are going to spend it!I manage to answer him - Who do you think you are? Small pretentious!The hand behind my back goes down to my buttocks and wraps around the hem of my dress. He exults when he finds my stockings - Bitch, you put on stockings to turn me on! You only ask that, to be well fucked.I continue to struggle but he realizes that my actions are less and less defensive. He grabs me again with both hands under the buttocks then lifts me up before sitting down on the kitchen table in front of him.He can contemplate at leisure the obscene spectacle that I offer him with my dress rolled up, legs wide open, my pussy that we can guess under the transparent lace of my thong. His fly is already open and his cock already well bandaged. He slips his hands under the garters and strokes my thighs. He is jubilant - You are really hot! And you wear whore's panties the way I like. If my friends saw you, they wouldn't believe it!I may want to close the compass of my legs, it is impossible because it is now nested with me. His penis is already banging against my slit while he draws me against him and spreads my thong. I try to fight, physically and morally, but I feel that I will surrender to his assaults. I think back to my behavior this weekend and to Edouard's reaction. Our marital embraces seem very bland compared to this wave of heat that rises in me when his big penis begins to invest me. I know that I must not show my pleasure to Mohamed otherwise he will come twice. I have to pretend to resist him, to find it disgusting even though I'm just waiting for it /Here I am now lying on my back, the Formica of the kitchen table makes me cold on the buttocks but I still have fire in my ass as Mohamed's friends would say. And my work colleagues, what would they think if they saw me protruding like a vulgar slut on a kitchen table on the 8th floor of a city in Seine Saint Denis? What depravity for a woman like me who has always remained very prudish and very conformist, even during my marital antics. But it's so good to feel in me this big circumcised acorn that opens my flesh, that explores me, that nags me and that makes me vibrate. I like when my pussy deviates under this bulky club, when my flesh expands under this large caliber and its end hits the bottom of my matrix. Yet I shout at my assailant - No, not that! I do not want.- I'm going to call for help, you'll end up in prison like your father!While continuing to work on the table which moves on the tiled floor so much he kicks me with vigor, he retorts - Come on, admit that you like it!- You wet like a bitch, bitch!- You are like all the bourgeoisie, you like the cock of the Arabs. Especially young people like me!While I think he will empty himself into me like the previous time in his room, he withdraws. I am almost disappointed and frustrated! He made me so horny that I was just waiting for it, to feel all his cum pouring into me.He said to me - I don't want to delay you for your other date. We leave it there!Then he reconnects and I see him take his cell phone to send a text message. I stand up, readjust my outfit and head for the door. As I leave the apartment, he joins me and walks into the elevator car with me.I look at him without saying a word, I wouldn't know what to say to him. Call him a city scum? Little pretentious? Of future delinq ...

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