My affair with Mikey continued throughout the summer. One afternoon, I returned from the gym to find the two boys watching a film, and my husband in his study, working as usual. After chatting briefly with Mikey and Jeremy, I said I was going for a shower, and headed up to the en suite.

I hadn’t even had time to peel off my gym kit before Mikey entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered frantically. In response, a mischievous smile on his face, he pushed me against the wall.

“Mikey, not here; we can’t,” I pleaded, as his hand slid into my yoga pants.

“I’m going to make you cum with my tongue,” he whispered in my ear, slipping a finger into me.

“This is insane; my husband could come in,” I warned him.

“I know,” he grinned, beginning to work me with his finger.

Tugging my sports bra down with the other hand, his mouth moved to my nipples, taking each, in turn, between his teeth and biting them; gently at first, and then harder, causing me to gasp and grab the back of his head.

Pinning me against the wall, he fingered me forcefully. My pulse raced with a mix of arousal and fear of discovery; my eyes were fixed on the closed door, listening for any movement in the bedroom beyond.

“We can’t; please, Mikey,” I protested, as he kissed his way down over my stomach, before dropping to his knees in front of me and yanking my yoga pants down to my ankles.

Ignoring my false protests, his hands holding my hips firmly against the wall, Mikey began to run his tongue up between the lips of my labia, until he found the clitoris. “Oh my God,” I moaned, as he circled it repeatedly with the snaking tip of his tongue.

Suddenly, I heard movement in the bedroom. My hand went to my mouth in shock, hearing Jeremy call out, “are you in there, Mum?”

Catching my breath, I called out in a strained voice, “just about to have a shower, sweetheart.”

“Oh, OK. I can’t find Mikey; he said he was going outside to make a call,” my son replied, as his friend brought me close to orgasm on the other side of a closed bathroom door.

“I’m sure he won’t be long,” I suggested, trying to calm my voice, whilst Mikey increased the pace with which his tongue was working my clit.

“You alright, Mum?” Jeremy asked in concern.

“Woman stuff, sweetheart,” I gasped, as Mikey sucked on my clit and pushed a finger deep into my pussy.

“OK, Mum. Hope you feel better soon. See you downstairs,” my son answered, before wandering off to find his friend; a friend who now had fingers working my pussy, looking up at me with impish eyes, whilst sucking and flicking my delicate bud.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” I whimpered, as I came on his tongue, stuffing a hand in my mouth to stifle the scream.

Almost beside myself with the intensity of the climax, I tried to pull away from his touch. Instead, Mikey pulled me firmly onto his tongue and held me there, forcing me to orgasm repeatedly. My legs buckling and my pelvis twitching frantically at his touch, I lost all control and squirted over his mouth and face.

Standing and pressing me back against the wall, he kissed me deeply with a mouth glistening with my juices, his hands kneading my sensitive breasts.

Breaking from the kiss, he whispered, “suck me off.” And with that command, he pushed me down to my knees.

Panting and still trembling with the aftershocks of a series of intense orgasms, I focused on his rock-hard manhood, which was brushing against my lips. Parting them, I eased the fat head into my mouth and began to play my tongue over it.

“Fuck, you are good at this,” Mikey murmured, his back arching and his hands moving to run through my long hair, “Mr C doesn’t know what he is missing out on.”

My hands placed on his thighs, I ran my tongue along the length of his thick member, before easing it back into my mouth, holding it tight, and taking it deep into my throat. Removing a hand from his thigh, I cupped his balls and increased the pace with which I was working his cock.

Mikey stifled a groan; as he did, I heard my husband moving around in the bedroom, muttering to himself about some cuff links he couldn’t find.

Grinning, Mikey pushed my head down deeper into his cock. In response, I squeezed his balls and shook my head, until he took the hint and released me. Listening for my husband’s movements, with no place to hide if he came into the en suite, I pleaded with my eyes for Mikey to keep quiet.

He nodded and then, with the same mischievous grin, placed my hands around his thick cock, mouthing that I should finish him off. Shooting him an exasperated glance, I wrapped my fingers around his throbbing cock and began to wank it with long slow strokes.

“Emma, have you seen my silver cuff links,” my husband’s irritated voice called out from the bedroom.

“In the bowl on your desk, darling,” I replied, on my knees, my hands busily working Mikey’s huge black shaft with my delicate white fingers. Mikey’s head was thrown back, and he was breathing hard, pre-cum seeping from the tip of his throbbing cock.

“I looked there, but probably missed them. Damn it, I am late as it is,” my husband continued, walking towards the bedroom door.

Then he paused.

Mikey’s breathing was coming faster now, my hands working him to climax. His breathing seemed loud in the silence; a silence broken by my husband’s voice, “you’ve been in there for ages; what on earth are you doing?”

“You know me; easily distracted,” I replied with a nervous laugh, watching Mikey’s hand cover his mouth to cut off a cry, as his cock twitched repeatedly and shot cum over my face, into my eyes, and through my hair.

“But, just showering now,” I told my husband, trying not to giggle, and looking up at Mikey as the last drops of cum splashed onto my face.