I glanced over at her, a teasing grin pulling at my lips. I knew exactly where this was going. My wife knew how much I loved whipped cream. Pair it with her body? I could eat all fucking day. “You do, huh?”
She smirked. “Uh-huh. Think we can get some time in together before we have to pick up the kids?”
I slid my hand between her thighs, playing with her clit through her sweats. She moaned and spread her legs further apart for me. I loved how open and needy she was with me. “Dumb ass question, baby girl. I’m always up for time with you.”
She parted her thighs even fucking wider, her breathing quickening. “Then hurry up and get home.” She whimpered, pushing her hips forward.
She sure as fuck didn’t have to tell me twice. I stepped harder on the gas pedal as she came undone, ruining her panties.
But that was all right because when I got her home, I was ripping those fucking panties off of her.
I’d just order her a new pair and let them surprise her when they came in the mail.