Sally Jackson thought herself a smart woman, but tonight, she thought herself dumb. Who in their bright minds would consider sticking a hand into the garbage disposal at the sink? That's right. Sally Jackson considered it and did it after turning the garbage disposal off, and now she had her hand stuck.

For one hour after getting her hand stuck she tried everything to get her hand free, but nothing that came to her worked. After that one hour she started to lose hope, but every five to ten minutes she tried something again that she had tried earlier. Repeat and defeat. Three hours had now passed and all this time she stood at the sink, having placed her elbow on the counter, and her chin on her hand and she sighed.

She managed to take her loose blue T-shirt off because of how hot it felt. The windows were open and the extreme heat of summer breezed in, kitchen becoming more humid and sultry. She stood in nothing but her red-lace bra that covered her perky breasts, tight blue jeans and a line of her red thong could be seen, and a pair of white socks.

She'd been shouting for help every ten minutes now, and she could see her phone, an object that had never looked so enticing before that she couldn't reach because it sat on kitchen table behind her. She could see the clock and knew her husband would be home in two hours, and with her son Percy, she could never tell.

Sweat trickled down her forehead, her cheek, and to between the valley of her breasts. Sighing again, she swiped her forehead and licked her wet lips. She'd even prayed to Poseidon, but, he didn't show. She had hoped he would show, but she also realized that the matters of her getting stuck weren't as important as godly matters.

Her shouting and prayers were answered when she heard someone knocking on the door, after which the doorbell rang, and a masculine voice spoke.

"Miss? Are you okay in there?"

Sally breathed, relieved, and she straightened her back and looked towards the living room. "Oh thank the gods," she whispered. "No! I'm... stuck." she hesitated saying. A moment of silence lingered before she heard his voice again. She then replied. "I've got my hand stuck in the garbage disposal unit. There's a key under the doormat."

She felt dumb admitting that she'd got her hand stuck in the disposal unit after answering his question of how and where and if he could help. She thought about putting her shirt back on, but that's a no-go because she had sliced the sleeve to her neck to get it off. She didn't feel shy nor shame about showing skin. She heard the key sliding in the lock and she thanked the gods' someone came. The door opened, heavy footsteps followed, and the door shut again. "I'm here!" she said, making a bit of noise so the man could hear from where it came.

She turned her head, a bit terrified of letting a stranger into her home, but eager to receive some help and get out of this position. He looked a bit familiar, but she shrugged it off. She looked him over. He looked about her son's age and height, with his black hair, and a fair bit of muscles. He wore knee-high shorts, sneakers and black socks, and a tight-fitting black shirt that showcased his muscles more. His eyes were a darkish brown and she noticed his eyes roaming over her body. She blushed.

"Hey," she chuckled embarrassed, her cheeks pink and heat creeping up her neck. She didn't mind his glances and obvious-looking over her body. In fact, she expected it considering how she looked and his teenage-looking age.

"Hey," he smiled, his eyes stopping at the sight of her red thong, and transfixed by her firm ass that her tight jeans hid. "I'm Matt Sloan," he introduced himself as he stepped forward with the intention of helping her.

His name set off the warning bells in her thoughts, but, she remember from where she heard that name, so she thought nothing about it. Perhaps, he's just someone she met outside somewhere and remembered his name. "It's nice to meet you," she said, a soft laugh escaping her. "I'm Sally Jackson, though, I wish I wasn't stuck like this when I meet someone new."

"Right," Matt said. He understood that, though, he delighted in the unintentional show of her almost-nudity. And it is even better now that he knew she's Sally Jackson, mother of Percy Jackson, the boy he bullied at school. He stood behind her, head above her shoulder, and examining where her hand, and how she's stuck. He hummed. He isn't an intelligent man, often having skipped classes in school, and having his father's money allowed him such leeway.

"Can you help?" Sally asked, her breath hitching when she felt his hot breath blow on her neck.

"I think so, yeah," he answered her. The wide-smile that she now sported on her face showed her excitement and happiness, and he liked that. "Do you have any lube? Oil? Lotion?" he asked her.

Her thoughts and body froze. "Yes. I do," she said, her voice blunt with shock. "Why didn't I think of that?" she asked herself. She then reached above, standing on tip-toes, and reaching for the cabinet. His hand grasped her wrist, and she stopped, her head turning and looking at him with surprise.

"Let me help," he said. He let go of her wrist and reached for the cabinet she aimed for and opened it. He saw plenty of bottles in there and saw one that's got 'lube' and 'oil' written on it. A bright-purple colored bottle that felt half-empty. He closed the cabinet, stepped back and popped the cap.

She exhaled, releasing a deep breath, knowing that she'd get out of this predicament in few minutes. Again, she thought herself a stupid woman. Why didn't she think of using the lube that she could've taken? Momentary loss of intelligence, or just forgotten, she supposed. And that's three hours of her day lost.

Matt squirted some lube on his hand, and it shocked him how warm and slippery it felt. Slippery enough that when some trickled from the top and trailed down to his hand he lost control of his assured holding. The bottle fell from his hand, he caught it, straight from the middle and he squeezed as he grabbed it tightly, and globs of lube splattered her back and derriere.

"What are you...?" she said, her voice trailing off into a shocked scream when warmth and wetness hit her back and ass. Her eyes were wide, and she heard his constant apologies over, and over. She shivered, feeling the oily and lube mix trail down her back, her backside and down her legs to her feet.

Matt froze, he looked as if he were a statue except for his darkening eyes that roamed over her nude back and her delightful derriere. Her thong now wet with lube, and her jeans becoming darker, and darker with the lube that trailed down to her feet and he followed the path of darkening. He licked his lips, and arousal rose to shocking heights, his cock bulging against his shorts.

Sally turned her head, and she gasped at the sight of his package and when she saw his eyes, her breath hitched, they were darkening with barely contained lust. Something about his eyes that looked so intense, and so needy that looked at her, had her shaking on her feet. She didn't remember the last time Paul had looked at her like that.

"What are you doing?" She said, frowning, and she couldn't describe the shock she felt when he boldly reached forward and squeezed her clothed-ass.

"I'm doing what I've craved to do for years since high-school," he said, his answer simple yet confusing to her. Matt delighted in squeezing and groping her ass, but, he wanted the bare-flesh of her ass so his arms reached around her, pulled her in tight against his chest, and his fat bulge ground against her ass.

"Oh!" she voiced, shock in her tone, and she didn't–honest-to-gods–didn't know what to do. "Stop!" she ordered. She shivered when his arms hugged her stomach, down to her jeans, and she dreaded the sound of her zipper being undone and then her jeans are pulled down to her thighs. "Stop!" she ordered again, making her voice sound commanding, which she didn't do often. And he ignored her.

"Real nice!" Matt nodded, fingers squeezing her bare supple flesh, and kneading her ass with his entire palm. One hand toyed with her butt, and the other caressed her stomach, up to her breasts, and he didn't slow down as he touched her bra-covered breast before he pulled down her bra too and grasped her breast to squeeze and knead. His hips began to move, grinding his fat bulge against her ass grunting.

Sally pulled and twisted her hand and wrist, trying to get it out of the sink, but her efforts showed no progress and she remained stuck. In fact, her wrist began to ache, and she tried her best to ignore the horny, rude stranger behind her that took advantage of her 'stuck' compromising position. She did keep telling him to stop it, even threatening to call the police, but it didn't affect him.

Matt touched every inch of her creamy smooth skin, except for her pussy yet, but he'd be touching that very soon, and very hard. Though, her voice began to annoy him, her constant orders and threats, annoyed him. "Will you shut the fuck up?" he snarled, slapping her ass hard, leaving a red hand-print. He listened to her yelp. "That's the sound you should make!" he pointed out. He then yanked her thong off, snapping it straight off her, and he bunched it up and forced it into her mouth.

Her day started great. She woke up happy and delighted, knowing that her son and husband would both be home tonight. Two men whom she loved very much. So she decided to make a big dinner tonight, and have a good family dinner and time, until, she got stuck. From there… her day twisted and she fell from the mountainous height of happiness. She fell to the bottom of the mountain, and she fell further down, and down the more Matt touched her. Her eyes were wide, her panties stuck in her mouth, and she tried to spit them out, but he held his hand over her mouth. She'd never been this vulnerable before.

Matt kept his hand over her mouth, and with his other hand he pulled down his shorts, letting them fall to his feet before kicking them away. He then pulled down his boxers a little and grasped his erect cock in his hand and took it out. He stroked his fat cock few times before he slapped her ass with it, and the flinch that followed from her roused him. He grounded his cock on her ass, slapping it a few times before he rearranged things and began to rub her pussy with his cock, and the muffled denial that came from her throat sent a rush of excitement into his head.

Sally could not believe what she is feeling. The hard flesh of erect cock against her firm backside felt wrong. What felt even more wrong is the small tingle between her thighs, a slow, gentle build-up of pleasure that's rising in her depths. She tried her best to deny that and stop the oncoming rush of thrill and bliss. Her efforts were good, but, when she felt his cock rubbing against her pussy, her efforts turned weaker and weaker, and she cursed the slight moan that rumbled in her throat that she managed to make a sound like a mumbled denial. She didn't want him to know that she—fucking—moaned because of him.

She thought that it would be this—hoped—it would be him touching her, and rubbing her cunt and not taking things further. Her shocked eyes widened, denial shining in them, and her hopes fell as she felt him push forward, his fat bulbous glans stretching her tight core. He didn't stop there, it seemed, and now she didn't manage to make her moan sound like a mumbled denial as she felt every inch of his thick girth stretch her inner walls wide.

Matt grunted, licking his lips, and he drove his cock deep into her married cunt with the intentions of ruining her married pussy and body until she became a wanton whore. He didn't make love to her. He fucked her. He rutted her like an animal, hard and rough, each thrust burying his nine inches of cock into her, and the sound of his balls slapping skin repeated over and over in her apartment. He grasped her auburn hair in a fist and yanked it. "Cunt," he said, leaning down, and biting her neck, his intent on leaving behind a hickey.

Sally knew ahead that it wouldn't be lovemaking. She's not that much of an idiot. No love existed between the two of them, and, she didn't even know who he is. A stranger in her home whose name she knew taking advantage of her vulnerability. Though she didn't expect the intense pace he set straight from the beginning, and something about it inflamed her desires. Awakened an inherent sexual deviant inside of her. Her toes curled, sweat shone on her neck, and the muffled moan that escaped her into her thong sounded of pleasure as her head snapped back.

He sensed a change, a change he didn't expect, but welcomed. He heard the muffled moan that he didn't expect, he expected one of anger, frustration, hate, but he heard the throaty moan of pleasure. And that single act increased his fervor. He took his hand away from her mouth, gripped her waist, pulled her tight to him and his pace raised in its intensity. He didn't hold back with his pounding of her tight married pussy.

She took her thong out of her mouth and swallowed, her mouth dry, and she worked her aching jaw. "Fuck!" she said, relieved that she can speak again, but, she didn't threaten him now because of a slight fear having worked into her of what he would do. She didn't ask nor tell him to stop. Deep inside of her, she wanted it to continue. She wanted it to continue so much that she began to twist and rotate her hips on his cock.

Matt chuckled, releasing her lush hair and his arm went around her to grope and squeeze her breasts and twist and flick her nipples making the mother of his nemesis moan. "Enjoying it?" He asked and slammed his hips forward, burying every inch of his fat throbbing cock into her heat.

Shaking her head, yet rotating and undulating her hips on his thick cock, and she wanted to say no, but instead, she said an enthusiastic, soft-sounding yes which agreed with the way she moved her hips. She thought her sexual life with Paul great, fantastic even, but she admitted that some things her husband lacked in. The rough attitude, for one, and Matt seemed to bring her deviancy to life, awakening the dormant whore that's buried deep inside.

"Fuck me!" Sally whispered.

"What's that?" Matt asked, leaning forward, his hot breath tickling her ear.

"I want you to fuck me!" she murmured, a wanton need in her soft voice.

He smiled, not that she could see it, and said. "I'd be happy to!" He first took his cock out of her drenched cunt and saw her juices dribble down her thighs and the mewling sound of disappointment she made roused him further. But, he knelt, grasped his phone from his shorts, stood back up, and wasting no time he penetrated her again, making her shout with shock. He then set an intense, vigorous pace of pounding the married woman, and mother of his high-school nemesis intending on having her climax on his cock. And from the sounds she made; he's doing a great job at it.

Sally heard him grunt, intermingling with her own lavish moans, and then she felt his cock throb and pulsate deep in her core. His cock massaged and rubbed every inch of her inner walls and she pushed her hips back at him, her back arching as she bit her lip. Though reality slapped her hard as his speed and roughness increased in its intensity, though, his pace switched to uncontrolled and unrestrained. "Not inside me!" She said, voice dying off with a soft moan.

A flash of light bloomed in the apartment followed by a clicking noise and dread set in her mind and heart. She recognized that. Pictures. Fear fell upon her face, which, left when his cock hit particularly deep and she forgot all about him taking pictures.

Matt didn't give a damn where he finished, though, her plead rang warning bells. He did realize that there's a chance she might get pregnant, and he didn't want kids. So he kept pounding and pressing his cock into her tight cunt, feeling a powerful pressure increase and he did his best to hold the rapid rising pressure. "Fuck," he grunted, and he pulled out at the last second.

Sally could not believe the mind-shattering, reality-breaking and intense climax that rushed through every inch of her body when his hot creamy seed splattered on her dripping cunt. Her body shook, her thighs quivering, her toes curling, and her legs were weak as she almost fell to her knees but managed to stay upright barely. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. Her brown eyes were hazy, her vision blurry, and she dropped her head on her arm. "Oh gods," she murmured. More of his creamy spunk splattered on her cunt, but, then she felt his load splatter over her back and ass.

Matt groaned, sweat dripping off his forehead, and he heaved a relieved breath. He slapped her ass with his cock, what's remaining of his spunk, dribbled and splattered on her ass with each degrading slap. He watched her twitch and shake, and he squeezed her breasts once, twice, before releasing her and stepping away. He wanted to stay, and oh so desperate to stay, but he knew the longer he stayed the higher his chance of getting caught. So he crouched low, pulled up his shorts and picked up the bottle which he placed on the counter next to her. "Thanks for the great fuck, Mrs Jackson."

Sally flushed. her breathing coming in short bursts, as she tried to control her shaking which didn't stop as she delighted in the bliss of aftershock. She looked at the bottle, confused, and his appreciative comment even more confusing. She heard the shuffle of clothes, a zipper, and footsteps that now left. She exhaled with relief, though, deep inside a small craving bloomed that embarrassed her. She picked up the bottle with a shaking hand and began to work herself loose from the sink, all the while, trying not to think about what just happened. Even though she felt his spunk trickle down her ass cheeks and her own juices dribbling down her inner thighs as sweat dripped down her forehead and neck.

Matt exited the apartment, an exciting step in his victorious stride, and a wide smile showed his teeth. Walked down the stairs, and noticed someone walking upstairs that had him inhale sharply. "Good afternoon," he greeted his teacher whose wife he did not just fuck. Paul, his teacher, husband of Mrs Jackson, and step-dad of that brat Percy Jackson. He ignored his teacher's response as he moved downstairs quicker, but, he felt like a god right at this moment. He's Matt-motherfucking-Sloan.

He took out his phone, tapped away at it, and browsed through the gallery and with wicked mirth he discovered the great potential these pictures have. Oh, the fun he will have with this. He pocketed his phone away, and, his thoughts turned a new road as he imagined blackmailing her.