Housewife's Hidden Helper

Karen slips into the bedroom and shuts the door fast, heart kicking like a bass drum. Weeks of blocked time, always another pair of eyes nearby, made her cranky and hungry. She yanks open the drawer, wraps fingers around her favorite dildo, and smirks. "Which one are you feeling today?" she mutters, like the toy could answer. Delivery guy keeps staring at her tits like they’re on a sale rack. Next-door hottie keeps flashing her every time he lets that skimpy towel drop. Both good candidates. Then she lands on the muscular kid down the block who cut the grass in July. College hard-body, polite smile hiding the filthy things his hips could do. She sees him knocking, big shoulders blocking her door frame, cock already half-hard because he can’t stop thinking about her. "Want me the same way?" he asks, voice low. The fantasy picks up speed: he lays her back, all swagger and enthusiasm, pounding harder than her sofa-potato hubby ever could, pausing only to tease her clit until her knees shake. Karen slides the toy in deeper, breathing hotter, enjoying every slow second of revenge on the sofa because today the house is finally, blissfully empty.