I Stole a Married Man in the Parking Lot After the Party

I am going to be honest with you, I have a thing for married men, and I know that makes me a brat, but there is just something about a guy who is supposed to be off limits that makes me want him more. It is the chase, it is the danger, it is watching a good husband turn into a desperate animal because of me. And last Saturday at my friend's birthday afterparty, I found the perfect target, this gorgeous older guy in a suit with a wedding ring glinting on his finger, standing by the bar trying so hard not to stare at me in my little black dress.

I noticed him noticing me within like five minutes of walking in. I was wearing this short tight dress that barely covered my ass, no bra, my nipples hard from the cold air conditioning, and every time I caught his eye I would smile this slow teasing smile and then look away. I love doing that, I love making a man work for it, making him come to me. And sure enough, after about twenty minutes of me dancing with my friends and bending over to pick up my drink on purpose, he walked over and offered to buy me a drink. His wife was apparently at home with the kids, he told me that like it was supposed to make me back off. Baby, that just made me want you more.

We talked and flirted for like an hour, and he kept doing that thing where he would glance at my chest and then look away all guilty, and I kept leaning in close enough for him to smell my perfume, touching his arm when I laughed, letting my dress ride up when I crossed my legs. I told him he was the best looking man at the party and watched him turn red, and I told him his wife was a lucky woman, which made him shift uncomfortably because we both knew what I really meant. I am such a tease, I love pushing a man right to the edge and watching him try to be good.

Eventually the party started winding down and people were leaving, and I told him I was going out for some air, and I made sure he saw me head toward the parking lot alone. I was standing by my car pretending to look for my keys when I heard his footsteps behind me, and he said he just wanted to make sure I got to my car okay. Sure, honey. That is why your cock is pressing against your suit pants. I turned around and pushed him back against his own car, this big black SUV parked right next to mine, and I kissed him hard, shoving my tongue into my mouth, grinding my body against his. He kissed me back instantly, like he had been waiting all night for permission, his hands grabbing my ass and pulling my dress up.

I broke the kiss and dropped to my knees right there in the parking lot, gravel digging into my knees, and I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, thick and hard and leaking, and I took him into my mouth. I sucked him deep and sloppy, moaning around him, looking up at him with these innocent eyes while I gagged on his cock, and he had his hands in my hair and he was thrusting into my mouth, whispering that we should not be doing this, that he was married, and I just hollowed my cheeks and sucked harder. His guilt was the hottest part, honestly, knowing I was ruining his perfect husband image one inch at a time.

I stood up and spun around and bent over the hood of his car, the cold metal shocking against my stomach, and I pulled my dress up over my back and yanked my thong to the side, and I told him to fuck me like he meant it. He slammed into me so deep I cried out, and then he clapped his hand over my mouth, which only made it hotter, getting fucked in a parking lot with his hand over my mouth while anyone could walk by. He pounded into me hard and fast, his suit jacket flapping, his wedding ring cold against my hip where he gripped me, and I was so wet I could hear how slick I was with every stroke. I reached back and grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper, telling him to give it to me, to fuck me like he fucks his wife, harder than he fucks his wife.

He came inside me with this broken groan, pulsing deep, and I came right after, my whole body shaking against the hood of his car, and we just stayed like that for a second, breathing hard in the dark parking lot. Then I pulled my dress down, smoothed my hair, kissed his cheek, and told him to tell his wife the party ran late. I got in my car and drove away before he even had his pants zipped, and I did not give him my number, I did not even give him my real name. He will be thinking about me every time he looks at his wife for the next year. You wish you were the reason some husband can't sleep at night.