Lupe slipped from the master bedroom, her sheer thong whispering against her skin beneath the short silk robe that barely grazed her thighs. Rog lay sprawled and snoring, dead to the world after too many beers. She smirked—oblivious as always. At 49, she still commanded every room, and tonight she intended to command Tony.
Padding down the hall, she paused outside the guest room. The door stood ajar. Tony sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, scrolling his phone. His eyes snapped up as she pushed it wider.
"Couldn't sleep either?" she purred, leaning against the frame so the robe parted just enough to reveal the curve of her ass.
Tony's gaze flicked away, then back. "Lupe. Rog said you were turning in. Everything okay?"
She stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click. "Rog is out cold. And I've been horny since the party. You noticed the skirt, didn't you? The way it flashed my thighs every time I bent for a drink?"
He swallowed. "I... tried not to. He's my friend."
"Cute," she laughed, sharp and low. "You spent the whole night pretending my nipples weren't staring at you through that top. Big brown areolae and all. Power's addictive, Tony. I like watching men notice."
"You're playing with fire," he muttered, but his cock was already hardening visibly against his boxers.
Lupe let the robe fall open, revealing the tiny thong soaked through. "Fire? Darling, I'm dripping wet and it's your fault. Come here." She crossed the room, strong hands pushing him back onto the bed. "I invited you to stay. My idea. Rog never suspects a thing."
She straddled him, grinding her wet pussy against his hard cock through the fabric. "Feel that? Horny doesn't begin to cover it." Her fingers freed him, wrapping around his thick length. "Nice cock. Thick. Let's see how it tastes."
Tony groaned as she slid down, taking him into her mouth for a slow, teasing blowjob. Her tongue swirled, lips tight, while her ass swayed invitingly. "Fuck, Lupe—"
"Witty comeback," she murmured around him, then sucked harder. He panted, sweating as she worked him deeper. She pulled off just long enough to strip the thong and climb back up. "My turn. You're going to fuck this pussy until I come."
She sank onto him, wet heat enveloping his cock. They moved together—her riding hard, him thrusting up—bodies slapping, sweat-slicked. "Deeper," she demanded, witty even now. "Or are you scared of my husband's friend card?"
"Not anymore," he gasped, gripping her ass. She came first, pussy clenching, dripping down his shaft. He followed, cum pulsing inside her as they panted through the explosive finish, her strong body still in control, milking every drop.
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