My uncle's wife rides me like a bitch in heat

The bass from the party thumped through the floorboards, a dull, boring rhythm that matched the endless drone of my aunt’s cousins talking about real estate. I’d had enough. Nodding at my Uncle Rick, a proud grin on his face as he showed off the new patio he’d sunk twenty grand into, I slipped out the back door into the cool night air. Freedom.

My truck was parked under the big oak tree, shadowed and quiet. I was fumbling for my keys when a voice, slurred and thick, stopped me.

“Leavin’ without sayin’ goodnight to the guest of honor?”

I turned. Aunt Clara. Well, Rick’s wife. Fifty, but damn if she didn’t fill out that black dress like she was trying to start a second life. Her eyes were glassy, her smile loose from the champagne and God knows what else.

“Didn’t want to interrupt the party, Clara. It was a great night.”

She stumbled forward, her high heels catching on the gravel. I caught her, my hands instinctively gripping her bare arms. Her skin was warm. She smelled like expensive perfume and cheap party beer.

“It’s borin’,” she whispered, her breath a hot wave of stale beer and sharp tequila against my face. “They’re all borin’. You’re not boring.”

Before I could process it, her hands were on my cheeks, pulling my face down to hers. Her mouth crashed against mine. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a takeover. A desperate, hungry claim. Her tongue, tasting like hops and salt and sin, plunged into my mouth. She moaned, a deep, guttural sound from her chest, and her body pressed against mine, pinning me against the cold driver’s side door. One of her hands left my face and fumbled blindly for the door handle behind me. Click. The back door of the crew cab swung open.

“Get in,” she breathed against my lips, her voice a command.

I was too stunned to do anything but obey. I half-fell backwards into the spacious back seat, and she climbed in after me, her dress riding up her thighs. The door slammed shut, plunging us into near darkness, the only light a faint glow from the porch forty yards away.

She was on me again, a whirlwind of frantic energy. Her kisses were everywhere—my mouth, my neck, my jaw—as her hands ripped at my belt buckle. The clink of the metal was loud in the silence. She got my jeans and boxers down to my knees in one frantic yank, and my cock, already rock-hard from the shock and the raw need of it all, sprang free.

“Knew it,” she slurred, her fingers wrapping around my shaft, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. “Been watchin’ you all night. Knew you had a big one for me.”

She didn’t wait. She hiked her dress up around her waist. No panties. Holy shit. No panties. In the dim light, I could see the dark triangle of her pubic hair, glistening. She was already wet. She positioned herself over me, one hand guiding my dick, and then she sank down onto me with a force that knocked the air from my lungs.

She was so tight, so impossibly hot and wet inside. She threw her head back and let out a choked cry, her body shuddering as she took all of me in one go. Then she started to move. And fuck, she moved like a woman possessed. She rode me like a fucking animal, grinding her hips in hard, desperate circles, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt. Her tits bounced in the confines of her dress with every savage thrust she made on my cock.

“Yeah… fuck your auntie,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back. “Fuck this old pussy. It’s so good, isn’t it? Better than his… so much better…”

Her words, the sheer filthy reality of it, broke the last of my shock. A switch flipped. Guilt? That was for later. Now, there was only this animal need. I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, and I started driving up into her, meeting her thrust for thrust. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the cab, a wet, rhythmic smack that was louder than the distant music.

I couldn’t get deep enough. I needed more. With a growl, I pushed her off me. She whimpered in protest, but I manhandled her, turning her over onto her hands and knees on the leather seat. Her ass was up in the air, pale and full in the darkness. I didn’t ask. I just spat on my hand, slicked up my cock, and pressed the head against her other hole.

She gasped. “No one… Rick never…”

“I’m not Rick,” I grunted, and I pushed.

She cried out, a sharp, pained sound that quickly melted into a long, low moan as her body gave way and I slid inside her tight, virgin ass. It was an even tighter, hotter vise around my dick. I grabbed her hips and fucked her like that, hard and deep, my balls slapping against her wet pussy with every drive. She pushed back against me, meeting my force, her moans turning into incoherent screams of pleasure. She was his wife, the respectable matron of the family, and here she was, taking it in the ass like a common whore in the back of my truck, her face probably pressed against the window my uncle had just paid off.

I felt the pressure building in my balls, a tidal wave about to break. I pistoned into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt, and exploded. I came in violent, pulsing jets, filling her ass with my load, my body shuddering with the most intense, guilty, fucking amazing release of my life. I collapsed on top of her, spent, the smell of her perfume, our sweat, and sex thick in the air.

We lay there panting. Slowly, the world came back. The distant music had stopped. The porch light was off. Reality, cold and sharp, poured in. I was buried inside my uncle’s wife, my cum leaking out of her. And all I could think about was the grin on his face when he showed me his new patio.