Caught red handed

Barra is the picture of guilt caught with her panties down. She is on her knees, skirt rucked up, giving the repairman the kind of welcome that leaves lipstick rings around the base of his cock. Her mouth works him in wet, noisy strokes. She slurps and swallows, throat fluttering, not bothering to look up until she feels the air shift behind her. The front door clicks open. Her husband stands there, jacket half off, and the room goes still. Barra pauses with her lips stretched, spit shining her chin, then smiles around the thick shaft like she has been waiting for this exact second. She draws back slowly, strings of saliva still linking her to the swollen head, and turns those blue eyes up to her husband. No words. Just that look, and the way she rocks back on her heels to lift her ass, presenting the smooth, bare pussy that got her into this mess. The repairman stays frozen, cock twitching in the cool air. Her husband shuts the door, crosses the room, and Barra's hand is already reaching for his belt before he can decide. She pulls him free, takes him into her mouth right next to the other cock, tongue sliding from one to the other in lazy, greedy licks. Two shafts, one blonde girl, and she works them both until they are slick and heavy. Then she turns, palms on the table, and offers the tight, waiting hole she has kept hidden until now. The husband steps in first, presses the head against her ass and sinks in, slow but sure. Barra moans, low and hungry, pushing back until he is buried to the balls. She does not stay still for long. She grabs the repairman's cock, lines him up with her pussy, and sinks down on both of them at once. Her body stretches, greedy and slick, taking cock in each hole while her husband grips her hips and the other man braces her shoulders. They find a rhythm, deep and steady, Barra caught between them and loving every inch. It does not take long before the men start to lose control. The husband pulls out first, fist working fast, and Barra turns, mouth open, eyes bright. Thick ropes land across her tongue and cheeks, some streaking up into her hair. The repairman follows right after, painting the other side of her face until it is glossy and dripping. Barra stays on her knees, licking her lips, come running down her chin, satisfied at last.