Bad Girls, Good Times update (Patreon)

“You certainly do,” Nancy simpered, giving her ass another little twist to recommend it to Patrick. “Like how wet I am?”

“I think we both do, beautiful.”

“Mmmm. It’s not just that you walked through the door with a big cock ready to go. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Remembering that bad boy of yours going into me this morning—waking me right up. I’ve been walking on Cloud Nine ever since then… and all because I’m married to a man who knows how to make his wife happy!” She shifted her ass lewdly backward, pushing herself down deep onto his skewering fingers. “Uuunh! Your fingers almost make me forget how good your prick felt. Oooh! Like a dream!”

Patrick could only give in to such a lascivious appeal. Nancy knew exactly how to get to him—exactly how little effort it took. For weeks after suggesting that Syd could once more be part of their love life, she’d kept him to herself—as though working out her own jealousy at the thought. Seeing to it that he was still her husband; satisfied with her and her alone.

And as much as he anticipated another shot at Syd, Patrick was more than content with Nancy. The woman was sensual perfection. A fantasy outfit like the one she (almost) had on now was sheer overkill. But it told him she wasn’t resting on her laurels, content with knowing Patrick wanted to fuck her whether she was wearing sweatpants, a parka, or nothing at all.

No, she liked seeing the heights she could drive Patrick’s lust to. And Patrick could only think she was trying to gauge how high his passion could go before Syd was finally part of the proceedings. Because he knew that when she was, it wouldn’t just be him going wild. Nancy would enjoy it as much as him.

He brought down his fly and freed his erection in all its throbbing, all its hardness. Nancy shuddered as he moved it between her buttocks, teasing her by tapping the bloated tip against the curve of her ass. Piquant little reminders of how engorged he was.

Patrick stroked his cock, lubricating it with the wetness he’d felt inside her slot, for much the same reason. His prick strained like a bloodhound. It felt less like a muscle and more like the concentrated force of all his desire for his wife.

With one desperate motion, he filled her with his manhood. Thrusting all the way in and not stopping until the passage narrowed too tightly for him to keep going. Still he kept up the pressure, forcing his way deeper, until his wiry pubic hairs were compressed against the buoyant fullness of her ass.

Patrick groaned, fully seated in her. Her rebellious sheath seeming to writhe and bunch all around him, like it was struggling to accept the vast growth that her body had given his endowment. It felt like a massage all up and down his sensitive member.

“AAIIE! OOOOHH! It’s too fuuuckiiing MUUUUCCCHH!”

His demanding entry had overwhelmed his wife right out of the gate. The combination of her arousal and his was too much for Nancy; Patrick could barely take it himself. She felt like she’d been ready to come the moment she’d put on that outfit. And Patrick had been hungry to fuck her for hours before he walked through the front door.

Nancy laughed in a nervy sort of relief. He could tell she felt soft, vulnerable, at the mercy of the sensation she was brimming with. Patrick tried to hold back—a little—but he had to fuck her. His body needed it. And long experience had taught him Nancy wanted nothing better than to stay at this plateau for as long as possible. Getting everything she wanted, everything she could take, and asking for more.

As he started pumping himself in and out of Nancy’s clenching sex, she gradually absorbed his rhythm. Slowly matching it, not so overwhelmed that she couldn’t move with him and better impale herself on his endless thrusts.

Nancy cooed passionately, helpless not to express her delirious enjoyment. All she felt was urgency, the hot need for more and more. There was a seething pain as Patrick forced her inner walls far apart—even that wasn’t enough to dissuade her.

She wanted it harder, faster, as rough as she could get it. What was the point in investing Patrick with such desire for her… and such an oversized hard-on… unless he used both to the fullest?

“OOOH! Pat-t-rick! Fuck meeee! Make me feel so good-d-d-d!” She didn’t need to ask, but it delighted her to imagine she was spurring Patrick on to be more debauched with her than ever.

Sweat beaded on Patrick’s forehead. The cool trickles down his brow provided evidence of just how overheated he was. He willed himself away from the wild paroxysms of uncontrolled rutting and ever-present urge to simply spend himself in his wife’s cunt, not bothering with anymore pleasure when he already verged on the ultimate.

The sight of Nancy’s firm, squirming buttocks and her sweat-dark hair going so black there were only glints of bronze in there like stars on a cloudy night… the feel of her inner muscles straining around him like they would pull him in deeper if they could… all those combined to make him feel like a superman. He was in control and out of control, filled with bestial urges and able to ride them into nothing but pleasure for the love of his life.

Patrick would make his own satisfaction out of watching Nancy lose herself in this same passion. He loved how feverishly she responded after her own desires betrayed her.

They were far enough from the window to be sure there was no seeing them from outside. But Patrick had a clear view of those few who passed by the narrow slit left in the drawn curtains. Nancy was too sexually intoxicated to pay attention to the view, but Patrick got a thrill out of seeing the passersby on the sidewalk. Knowing they had no idea of the decadence going on behind a scant few inches of walling.

It made his cock feel almost too big for Nancy’s tight little hole.

“Fuck! Christ, Nanc… there’s no other pussy like yours!”

“Not even Syd’s?” Nancy purred devilishly.

Patrick sent his lengthy manhood up into her belly once more, testing how close he could get to her womb. “Does that dick—feel—like it gives—a damn—about Sydney?”

Hearing his words, gritted out like he was all passion, barely anything in him that could speak, Nancy convulsed. Her appreciation of him even riper than before. She was beyond fighting the sheer depravity of their lust for each other and was well into savoring it, loving every lewd compliment he gave her.

When he told her how hot, how tight, her pussy was, it seemed to get her off more than any physical touch. When Nancy managed the wherewithal to release something other than an incoherent moan, she tried to do the same to him.

“God, Patrick, YES! You’re filling me up! You’re so big in me and you’re making it—fuck! There’s no room! I love the way you FUCK me! My pussy’s been hot for this all day! All fucking day!”

Her ass shoved back into his groin, the jubilantly thick flesh compressing against the hard muscle of his lower belly. Patrick stared, almost lost in the amazing smoothness of her sweat-slick back. The muscles flexing sinuously as she thrust herself back and then jerked away, almost fleeing from the fullness he penetrated her with.

She moved like a belly dancer, gracefully swirling muscles most women didn’t even know they had—a visual orgy, possibly the only thing that could look as good as her inner tightness felt.

“Gee-zus, Nanc! You make it real fucking hard for a guy not to come! Goddamn, your pussy’s going to pull it right out of me!” Patrick’s fingers clawed at her hips, as though trying to keep her from flying away when he lunged deep into her welcoming sex. With how hard he was thrusting, Patrick felt like he might send her all the way across the room.

Nancy laughed uproariously, interrupted only by his hard thrust inside her. Her giggles meshed with the gasps he drew from her throat. “That’s right,” she teased him. “I’m going to suck your cum out—every last drop—I want to feel it go squish inside of me—oh yeah—as deep as you can fucking get it! Mmmmm!”

It took an actual effort, like he was benching a couple hundred pounds of dumbbell, but Patrick managed to tear his gaze away from Nancy’s sensual writhing. He looked up to see Syd’s car pulling up to the curb—her getting out, for once with a long trenchcoat covering her perfect body instead of some flattering ensemble showing it off.

As he stared at her, he realized the absurdity of how he was slamming himself into Nancy, again and again, his cock delving as far into her as it could get. But he didn’t let his own natural carefulness deter him. He kept going at Nancy until the outside world grew vague and far-off. Unable to be perceived. The only thing he could really make out was the intense heat waiting for him inside his beautiful, beautifully willing wife.

His balls grew heavy. The heat of their rutting singed him with its urgency. It was more than he could take; he still took it. Nancy’s sex was hot as hell and he kept burning himself in it. That bonfire was the only way to paradise.

“Ooohh, Patrick—again—you did it again!” Nancy’s voice was shaky, fervent, rattled by her own pleasure—the way she always sounded in the throes of climax. Her ass ground relentlessly into his loins. She knew he would come in her—she offered herself as a sheath, a receptacle, a finishing line for this magnificent fuck. Patrick let himself be overcome by her seduction.

“Uukhh! Here it comes, babe! As deep as I can get it!”

He let loose into her, feeling his cock jump and throb, bursting with each throb, singing with every eruption into her. Muscles uncoiling with each cord of semen he drained out of himself. Breath rushing in where before his lungs had been overworked voids.

When the last of his load had been emptied out of him, he bent over her, reaching around Nancy’s chest to take her breasts in either hand. Feeling them heave with all the passion he’d brought her to. Their sweaty heat was like being able to fondle a furnace. Patrick thought that Nancy could bring in as many women as she could find—this had to be as content as a man could get.

When they had ridden out that bliss that demanded to go uninterrupted, unspooling into their motionless bodies like a fire slowly burning down, he got around to kissing her hello.

“Did you have a good day, baby?” Nancy asked.

“Oh yeah. Just now.” Then Patrick remembered to look up. Right on cue, Syd knocked on the front door. He wondered if she were so in sync with Nancy that she knew to wait until just the right moment. Or maybe she’d been listening through the door—hardly Fort Knox—until hearing Nancy’s vocal pleasure finally die down.

“Who could that be?” Nancy asked, her acting talent not quite able to hide a wicked smile from him.

Patrick picked himself up, not bothering to rearrange his appearance before he went to the front door. He jerked it open to find Syd. She’d opened up her trenchcoat. Underneath, she wore something like a police uniform… but more like a burlesque dancer. High-heeled leather boots up to her knees, tight blue shorts that only covered her hips and struggled to do that, and a top that wrapped up her chest while leaving her arms and belly entirely bare. Still, with the cap and aviator sunglasses on her lovely, serious face and the truncheon in her hands batting at one palm, she almost could’ve convinced him she was really there as a badass cop. But her body was just too gorgeous to pull it off.