A Naughty Getaway Pt. 02

Sandra trembled in Bruno's grasp, her body still tingling from the last waves of pleasure as she rhythmically bounced on his big, Brazilian cock. The storm outside continued to rage, thunder rumbling in the distance as rain pelted against the windows, sealing them in their own little world of sin. She should have been exhausted, should have come to her senses, but instead, she found herself aching for more.

Bruno's thick fingers trailed up her exposed back, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he devoured her with his lecherous gaze. His smirk was insatiable, knowing the fact that she was his now, even if just for the night.

"Mmm... look at you, sexy..." Bruno purred, gripping Sandra's soft, toned waist, guiding her movements, and she rose and descended on his impressive length. "You're so fucking tight around me. That little husband of yours never fucked you this good, huh?" His voice was smug, dripping with arrogance.

Sandra panted, her cheeks flushed, trying to reclaim some ounce of dignity. "Bruno... I..."

A firm slap cracked against her ass, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure up her spine.

"Keep telling me what I want to hear. You've already admitted how much better I am. Why stop now?" Bruno smirked, his gold tooth flashing under the dim lighting. "Now say it. Tell me whose cock you really crave now."

Sandra whimpered, her resolve shattering under his dominance. She knew she shouldn't be admitting these unfiltered, raw thoughts, but she simply couldn't help it. It was bad enough that she had cheated—repeatedly in a span of a day—but why did she allow herself to keep giving voice to the filthy thoughts swirling in her head?

But her body was betraying her with every deep stroke of his cock inside her tight, married pussy.

A low, desperate moan escaped her soft lips as she ground herself against his lap, feeling the hard length of his sizable cock stretching her drenched slit.

"Yours..." she admitted once again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bruno growled approvingly. "Louder."

Sandra bit her lip, her breath shaky. "YOURS! Mein Gott, Bruno, I need it! Fuck me...!" she moaned, her Swiss-German accent seemingly getting thicker as her arousal ignited as she skillfully rode him, her hips undulating in fluid, salacious movements, eliciting heavy moans from the both of them.

Bruno chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on her waist, the sensation of his cock dragging against her wet walls making his toes curl. "Ohhh... That's more like it, beautiful. Keep riding that cock."

Sandra whimpered as she obeyed, her hips working with a newfound desperation, chasing pleasure like a woman possessed. Each downward stroke sent shockwaves through her overstimulated body, her sensitive walls clenching around Bruno's thick cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Ja, jaaaaa...!" she gasped, rolling her hips with sinful precision, her soaked pussy swallowing him to the hilt again and again. Her platinum blonde hair clung to her damp skin, sweat glistening in the dim light of his cozy room.

Bruno groaned, throwing his bald head back as he gripped her tighter, fingers digging into her supple flesh, guiding her movements with firm control. "Fuck yeah, that's it... Augh, yesss...You feel so fucking good!" His voice was thick with lust, his teeth gritting as Sandra bounded on his lap, her tight pussy squeezing him like a vice.

"Mmmphh... Bruno.... So tief... so gut!" Sandra babbled mindlessly, her striking blue eyes fluttering, lost in pure, mind-numbing pleasure.

A cocky smirk tugged at Bruno's lips, knowing damn well he had her addicted to him now. He reached up, cupping her perfect tits, tweaking her stiff, pink nipples between his thick fingers as she rode him like she never had with her own husband. "That's right, sexy... let that little husband of yours fade away. He ain't got shit on me, does he?"

Sandra's head rolled back, her lips parting in a helpless moan as another sharp slap landed on her ass, sending fresh waves of pleasure coursing through her.

"Ahhhh! Nein...! I—!" she tried to protest, her lingering inhibitions still fighting back against the depravity, but Bruno's strong grip held her in place, his hips snapping up into her as she came down, driving himself even deeper inside her dripping cunt.

"You what?" he growled. "You love the way I fuck you, don't you? Say it."

Sandra bit her lip, her resolve crumbling with every brutal thrust. "Ughh... Ohhh..." she sobbed, her body shuddering uncontrollably. "Ja... ja, Bruno, I love it!"

Bruno grinned wickedly. "That's my filthy little Swiss slut."

He gripped her ass tighter, controlling her movements as he began pounding up into her with ruthless, unrelenting force. The bedframe creaked beneath them with every sharp impact, the storm outside roaring in tandem with their sinful escapade.

"Uhhhh... Ahhhh... Mein... mein Gott...! You feel so gut!" Sandra wailed, her body bouncing, her tits jiggling with every powerful thrust. She was completely wrecked, lost in the forbidden pleasure only he could give her.

Bruno hoisted himself up to her, leaning forward and teasingly biting along her collarbone before whispering, "You'll never let that little wimp touch you again after this, will you?"

Sandra's breath hitched, her nails raking down his shoulders, his depraved words making her core tingle with a mix of guilt and desire. "Uhhhh... Bruno... I..."

"Answer me, Sandra," he commanded, his voice husky as he drove himself into her married pussy harder, his cock pulsing inside her soaked heat. "You're mine now. Say it."

Sandra whimpered, her entire body trembling, her alluring blue eyes rolling back as her orgasm ripped through her like lightning. "AHHHH! BRUNO, I'M YOURS!" she screamed, clenching around his cock, her pussy milking him for his virile seed as pleasure obliterated her final shred of restraint.

Bruno groaned as her tight walls spasmed around him, his grip tightening on her waist as he fell back onto the bed. He thrust up one last time, burying himself deep before releasing his thick, hot ropes of cum inside her once again.

"Arghhh! Fuuuuuuuck!" Bruno let out a deep, resonating growl, his body shuddering as his cock twitched inside her welcoming depths. His hips bucked against her with every thick load that spewed from him, his heavy balls contracting to deliver his seed into her fertile Swiss pussy.

Sarah collapsed against his broad, hairy chest, breathless, her pulse racing as her overheated body came down from the high of her mind-melting orgasm. A soft, content moan left her lips as she felt his warmth spread inside her, marking her as his.

Bruno smirked, his fingers running lazily over her sweat-slicked back. "God, damn... That was great, beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough and dripping with satisfaction as he planted a possessive kiss on her temple. "Now tell me, baby... Was I worth betraying your husband for?"

Sandra swallowed hard, her chest still rising and falling rapidly.

She should have said no.

She should have denied him.

But instead, she let out a soft, shattered moan...

"Yes..."

Bruno grinned triumphantly.

"I knew it..."

-

Sandra stepped out of Bruno's shop just as the first rays of morning sunlight broke through the heavy clouds. The storm had finally passed, leaving the air thick with humidity, the pavement still slick with rain. The world felt eerily still compared to the fevered chaos the night before.

She shivered despite the warmth in the air, adjusting her bikini and tugging her loose cover-up from yesterday around her body. Every step she took was a reminder of what had transpired—her thighs ached, her skin tingled where Bruno's rough hands had gripped her, and deep inside, she still felt him.

Her heart pounded as she hurried through the quiet streets, her mind racing as fast as her footsteps. "What the hell am I going to say??" She had disappeared into the night to go on an errand, gone until the morning. Sandra's stomach churned, and she wondered how to explain herself to Lucas when she got back; he was probably worried sick.

But she had a crutch. The storm. It had been violent enough that no one would question her absence. She could say she got caught in the downpour, found shelter, and waited it out. No one had to know where or with whom.

By the time she reached Joana's house, the sun had risen higher, casting a warm glow over the drenched landscape. She hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

The living room was a disaster when she left it—empty beer bottles littered the table, clothes were strewn across the floor, and the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. Lucas and his cousins were passed out, sprawled across the couches and floor, their snores filling the silence.

Sandra exhaled, relief washing over her. It was safe to assume no one noticed. It was likely they passed out while waiting for her return.

She slipped inside, moving carefully, avoiding the creaking floorboards as she made her way toward the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, her heart hammering in her chest.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror and froze.

Her platinum blond hair was a tangled mess, her fair skin still flushed, her soft lips swollen from Bruno's relentless kisses. There were faint bruises on her neck and her thighs, evidence of his salacious touch causing her belly to swell with warmth.

She swallowed hard.

Turning on the faucet, she splashed cold water on her face, rubbing at the marks as if she could erase them, as if she could undo the night before. But no amount of scrubbing could remove the heat still simmering beneath her skin, the memory of Bruno's voice growling in her ear, the way he fucked her... claimed her.

Sandra inhaled sharply and straightened, her cheeks blushing as she felt the tingle of her depraved coupling with a man, not her husband. She had gotten away with it, and it made her body buzz with a mix of guilt and thrill, her thighs clenching at the undeniable arousal of her debauchery.

Sandra removed her clothes and stepped into the shower. The bathroom was already fogging from the steam as she turned on the faucet and stepped under the warm spray. She let out a slow breath, her body still sensitive and tingling in all the places he touched her.

No matter how much she scrubbed, she could still feel him. The roughness of his hands, the heat of his breath, the way he had fucked her silly over and over again. It was all too intoxicating.

"Scheisse..." she muttered under her breath, running her fingers through her damp hair, her scalp still tender where Bruno had gripped it. She lathered her body, washing away the sweat, the scent of sex, and the dried evidence of her betrayal. But no amount of soap could wash away what she had done.

By the time she stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself, her skin was pink from the heat. She dried off quickly and slipped into a light sundress in the bedroom, adjusting the straps as she caught her reflection again. Her lips were still a little swollen, her fetching blue eyes slightly dazed with satisfaction. With a deep breath, she straightened, smoothing the fabric over her hips. It's over. No one knows. Just act normal.

She stepped into the hallway, moving carefully through the quiet house. The air was thick and humid from the Brazilian climate. Sunlight filtered through the windows, glistening off the wet pavement outside.

As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into Lucas's grandmother.

"Morning, querida," Joana greeted warmly, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Finally back, huh? I was worried sick when that storm hit."

Sandra forced a small smile, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Ah, ja.... The storm came quickly. I vasn't able to get home for a while."

Joana tilted her head, giving her a sympathetic look. "Mmm. Yeah, it was a nasty one. I was disappointed in Lucas for sending your poor soul out to get more drinks. Hmm, I need to talk with him about how to treat his wife better," the older woman said, her voice tinged with disapproval and amusement.

Sandra chuckled softly, shifting her weight as she tried to appear more casual under Joana's observant gaze. "Ah, no, no..." she said quickly, waving her hand as if to dismiss it. "It vas not his fault. I vent out on my own, really. I just hadn't expected it to be that bad."

"Mmm-hmm," Joana hummed, folding her arms across her chest. "Tsk, I know, I know... I just don't like the thought of you out there alone, querida. The rain was coming down like the sky was falling apart. Where did you end up taking shelter?"

Sandra's heart skipped a beat.

Her fingers tightened around the hem of her dress as her mind raced for an answer. She had prepared for this question and knew it was coming, but now that it was here, her throat felt dry.

"Lie. Just lie."

But under Joana's gentle, worried gaze, the words wouldn't come.

Sandra exhaled, keeping her expression carefully neutral. "Ah, I just stayed inside the shop I was buying more drinks from..." she said, choosing her words carefully. "The owner... let me stay until it passed."

Joana let out a small sigh of relief, clearly reassured. "Thank God. You were lucky, querida. Some people get caught in those rains and don't come back so dry." She shook her head. "I'm still mad at Lucas for putting you in that situation, hmph!"

Sandra smiled, the tension easing just slightly. "You are too kind, Joana. But I vas fine. It was just a minor inconvenience. I'm still in one piece, as you can see."

Joana sighed but nodded, still visibly unsettled. "Just be careful next time, okay? If Lucas sends you to do his bidding again, just tell me, and I'll whip him into shape for you, okay?"

Sandra couldn't help but laugh a bit louder, her body loosening more, feeling that any suspicion on her was properly diverted. "Ja, of course. I vill be more careful."

Joana gave her one last look before gently patting her shoulder and ushering Sandra toward the kitchen. "Alright, come. Let's get you some food. After a night like that, you must be starving."

Sandra sighed in relief, following her toward the kitchen. But even as she focused on steadying herself, she could still feel Bruno—his touch lingering, his mark deep inside her...

-

Lucas groaned as he slumped back onto the couch, rubbing his temples with a pained wince. The living room was still a mess—empty beer bottles, half-eaten snacks, and the stale scent of alcohol lingering in the humid morning air. His cousins were in similar states, sprawled about, half-conscious, and completely useless.

Sandra stood near the doorway, arms crossed, watching them with thinly veiled impatience.

"Mein Gott, Lucas," she sighed, shaking her head. "You look like you got run over by a truck."

Lucas cracked an eye open, looking at her through his hazed misery. "I'm regretting drinking that much... augh... my stomach. I feel like shit, babe."

One of his cousins groaned from the couch, barely lifting a hand in agreement.

Sandra rolled her eyes, not the least bit sympathetic. "Ja, vell, that's vhat happens when you drink like maniacs. And you never drink. Vhat did you think vas going to happen??" she teased, adjusting the strap of her sundress. "But ve are in Brazil, Lucas. I do not vant to sit inside all day while you recover."

Lucas groaned dramatically, running a hand over his face. "Sandra, I can't even stand without the room spinning. Can't we just... relax today?"

Sandra sighed deeply, shifting her weight to one side. "So, vat? I am supposed to sit here and babysit all of you while you all groan like dying men?"

Lucas peeked up at her with a small, lazy smile. "You could..."

Sandra gave him a sharp look.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright," he chuckled hoarsely. "Go, explore. Have fun. It's nice here."

Sandra hesitated, glancing between him and his barely functioning cousins. She had wanted him to come with her, but it was clear that wasn't happening.

"Fine," she muttered, grabbing her purse and slipping her feet into her sandals. "I vill go alone, then."

Lucas gave her a lazy thumbs-up before dropping his head back against the couch. "Be safe, babe. Love you."

Sandra just hummed in response, already making her way out the door.

But as she stepped outside, as the fresh air hit her, a flicker of guilt tightened in her chest. "He trusts me... He has no idea what I did." She bit her lip, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked toward town.

It wasn't like she planned to cheat on him. It wasn't her fault she had ended up in Bruno's arms; Only if Lucas hadn't been so careless—leaving her alone on the beach and sending her out to do errands for him. If he had been more attentive, none of this mess would have ever happened! Of course, Lucas was Lucas, always a bit selfish.

And Bruno?

Bruno had simply been there, strong, confident, and so damn tempting. He showed her what a real man felt like. She couldn't help but compare him to her husband. They were starkly different. She loved Lucas. There was a reason why she married him after all. But Bruno... he offered her something that was too intoxicating to ignore.

Sandra exhaled sharply, shaking her head, trying to push it all down. It was over for now. The storm has passed; she had lied to Lucas, and he bought it completely.

-

Sandra wandered through town, taking in the sights, trying to clear her head. The streets were bustling with life, vendors selling fresh fruit and handmade jewelry, the air thick with the scent of salty ocean breeze and grilled food. She should have felt free and refreshed— this is what she wanted, right? A distraction.

But no matter how much she tried to focus on the vibrant colors of the buildings or the sound of waves in the distance, her thoughts kept circling back.

Lucas.

Bruno.

Last night.

Sandra ran her fingers over the strap of her purse, exhaling slowly as she continued walking. She had convinced herself that she wasn't looking for him, that she was simply exploring. She told herself that she just wanted a quiet afternoon, a moment to breathe after everything that had happened. But deep down, in a place she wasn't ready to acknowledge, she knew exactly where her feet were leading her.

And then, as if the universe was taunting her, she saw him.

A small beachside bar sat tucked between two buildings, the open-air design allowing the ocean breeze to flow through. The sound of clinking glasses, soft laughter, and distant waves filled the space. She spotted him immediately, Bruno, sitting at the bar, his broad, relaxed frame impossible to miss.

The right thing to do would be to turn around and find somewhere else to go.

She should walk away.

But despite the voice in her head pleading with her to leave, Sandra stepped inside anyway.

A strange mix of nervousness and anticipation curled in her stomach as she moved toward the far end of the bar, pretending not to see him. Her heart raced, and her skin tingled with unwanted familiarity. She perched herself on a stool, inhaled deeply, and looked at the menu.

But then, before she even had a chance to steady herself, that deep, velvety voice slid through the air like silk.

"Bom dia, princesa."

Sandra's stomach flipped as his words rolled off his tongue like honey, thick with amusement and knowing. She turned slowly as if pulled by an invisible force, and there he was.

Bruno sat on the stool next to her, his cocky smirk firmly in place, his dark eyes drinking her up with shameless appreciation. He looked just as confident as last night: broad shoulders casually slouched, a drink swirling lazily in his hand, his gold tooth gleaming in the afternoon sun.