Stone-cold sober, skirt too short for November, and two men (and bi bestie) about to ruin her for the husband waiting at home.
Mark’s on the sofa with Leeds losing and his fourth can of Carling going flat, and I’m stepping into the good black lace knickers he’ll never see, the ones I keep folded at the back of the drawer for exactly this. He shouts something up about the match. I don’t answer. He won’t notice anyway.
I’ve been wet since I woke up this morning thinking about tonight. Stacey texted at lunchtime: Miner’s, half seven, Connor and Deano coming, you in? I was in before I’d finished reading it. Been planning this for weeks, maybe longer. Planning exactly how I’d dress, exactly what I’d do, exactly how I’d come home afterward and climb into bed beside my husband still dripping with someone else’s cum.
The Miner’s is packed, windows steamed, Sky Sports blaring, and Stacey’s already claimed the corner table in that tight red dress with no knickers underneath because she told me so the second I sat down. Connor’s hand disappears under the hem within ten minutes. Deano’s staring at my tits like he’s never seen a woman before. I let him. I cross my legs, let the skirt ride up, watch his face go scarlet. He’s got hands like shovels and I’ve been thinking about those hands for months.
We’re drinking mocktails. Stone-cold sober, both of us, the whole night. Bex behind the bar knows the arrangement, makes them without the vodka, charges us full price, doesn’t say a word. The lads think we’re getting pissed. They’ve no idea we’re in complete control, steering this exactly where we want it to go.
By half-time Stacey’s cum twice under the table and I’m so wet my knickers are stuck to me. By full-time Leeds have bottled it, Foden’s broken everyone’s hearts, and nobody in the pub’s watching the telly anymore. Stacey tips her head toward the back corridor. I follow thirty seconds later. Deano follows me. The disabled toilet door barely latches.
Stacey kisses me first. Slow, filthy, tongue properly in my mouth, and Deano just stands there with his cock straining his jeans, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe this is happening. I pull him down onto the closed toilet seat, straddle his face, and Stacey rides his cock while we kiss over the top of him. The landlord bangs on the door, performs outrage for the corridor, then drops his voice and tells us to hurry up and not leave a mess. We laugh so hard Stacey nearly loses him.
Connor suggests the van. Deano’s battered work Transit, parked round the back, cold metal floor and an oily dust sheet and exactly enough room for all four of us if nobody minds elbows in the wheel arch. I get spit-roasted first, Connor’s cock in my mouth, Deano’s in my cunt, both of them filling me at once, and it’s the best I’ve felt in four years of marriage. Mark’s never made me feel like this. Three-minute missionary and he’s asleep. This though, Christ, this is what I’ve been missing.
Deano fills my cunt, properly floods me, and I can feel it leaking out while Stacey sits on my face and I lick her through her second orgasm of the night. Connor cums across both our faces. We share it off each other’s tongues, grinning, breathless, absolutely filthy.
Mark texts while I’m still in the van, cum running down my thigh: you having a good time? going to bed, cold without you x. I text back best night in ages and it’s not even a lie. I’ll go home leaking, climb into bed beside him, and he’ll fuck me tomorrow morning, slide right into my still-full cunt, and never have a single clue.
What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. What I do know? Makes every boring weeknight, every shift at the factory, every load of washing and plated-up tea, absolutely fucking worth it.
Full Time Filth: Kelly’s Cheating Hotwife Night After the Match. Explicit British MFM / FFM erotica. One dirty Saturday, two men, one best mate, and a husband at home who’ll never find out. Pub toilet sex, hotwife cuckolding, creampie, group play, bisexual content, disabled toilet filth, back-of-the-van chaos, and a marriage held together by lies and lube. 14,000 words of northern grit, no romance, no guilt, no fade-to-black.
Book 2 in Lily’s Dirty Shorts.
Available now Amazon eBook, and free to read on Kindle Unlimited. UK AMAZON | USA AMAZON | CANADA AMAZON | AUSTRALIA AMAZON
Trigger Warnings
Content Warning: this book contains the following adult themes that some readers may find distressing:
- Explicit extramarital sex (cheating wife / cuckold dynamic)
- Group sex (MFM, FFM, multiple partners)
- Bisexual female content
- Public and semi-public sexual activity
- Strong language and graphic sexual descriptions throughout
- A married protagonist who experiences no guilt or consequences
- Themes of betrayal and deliberate infidelity
This is an 18+ explicit erotica novella intended for adult readers comfortable with taboo sexual themes.
