**Cheating on My Wife with Leila**

I knew it was risky inviting Leila over while my wife was out of town, but the thrill of it had my dick hard before she even texted me she was on her way. Leila—gorgeous, wild, and *very* vocal about how much she despised my wife—had been teasing me all week. *”Does she even suck your dick like I do?”* she’d whispered last time we fucked in my car. The answer was no. Fuck no.

The moment she stepped inside, her dark eyes locked onto mine, already smoldering with that *I hate her so much and I’m gonna take what’s hers* energy she got off on. She was in a tiny black dress, legs bare, tits barely contained. No bra. My cock twitched.

“You smell like her shampoo,” Leila sneered, stepping closer. “I *hate* that.”

Before I could answer, her fingers were digging into my shirt, yanking me down so her lips crashed against mine. Her tongue was in my mouth instantly, hot and demanding, tasting like mint and spite. I grabbed her ass, squeezing hard, and she moaned into my mouth.

“Fuck, you’re already hard,” she muttered, palming my cock through my jeans. “You’ve been thinking about me, huh? Imagining my mouth on you while she’s gone?”

I groaned, hips jerking against her hand. “Yeah. Every fucking night.”

Leila smirked, pulling back just enough to push me onto the couch. “Good. Now let me show you why you keep coming back to me.”

She dropped to her knees between my legs, fingers making quick work of my belt and zipper. My cock sprang free, already leaking, and her eyes lit up. “God, I *love* how much you want me,” she purred before wrapping her lips around the head in one slick motion.

I hissed, my fingers tangling in her hair. She sucked me deep, her tongue swirling under the ridge, knowing *exactly* how to make me crazy. She took me all the way to the back of her throat, gagging just a little before pulling off with a filthy *pop*.

“Tastes so much better when I know she hasn’t had it in weeks,” she whispered before diving back down.

Fuck, she was good. Her mouth was hot and wet, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked me hard and fast. Spit dripped down my shaft, slick and messy, her hand pumping what she couldn’t take. I could feel my balls tightening already.

“Shit, Leila—”

She pulled off with a smirk, wiping her mouth. “Not yet. I wanna ride you first. Wanna feel you *inside* me while I think about how fucking *pissed* she’d be if she saw us.”

I didn’t argue. She climbed onto my lap, hiking that slutty little dress up around her waist. No panties. Of *course* she wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy was already glistening, pink and swollen, and she ground against me, coating my cock in her wetness.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, nails digging into my shoulders. “Now.”

I grabbed her hips and guided my cock into her, groaning as her tight cunt stretched around me. She was *so* wet, so warm, clenching the second I was fully inside. “Jesus *Christ*,” I choked out.

Leila threw her head back, riding me hard, her tits bouncing as she rolled her hips. Every time she sank down, I could feel her walls flutter, hear the slick slap of skin as she took me deeper.

“You feel *so* good,” she gasped, grinding in tight little circles. “Better than *her*. **Always** better.”

I gripped her ass, slamming her down harder onto my cock. She cried out, nails raking down my chest as I fucked up into her. Her moans were loud, shameless—like she *wanted* the whole neighborhood to know who I was really fucking.

“Tell me,” she panted. “Tell me I’m better.”

“You’re *so* much fucking better,” I growled, thrusting harder. “Tighter. Hotter. Fuck—*Leila*—”

Her pussy clenched around me like a vice as she came, her back arching, her cunt pulsing. “Oh my god, *yes*, fuck, *yes*—!”

The way she clamped down on me was enough to drag me over the edge. I buried myself deep, spilling inside her with a groan, my hips jerking as she milked every last drop.

Leila collapsed against me, breathless, her lips brushing my ear. “She’ll *never* make you cum like that,” she whispered.

I didn’t argue. Because she was right.