Stress Relief

Carrie wasn’t thinking straight whenever Ken came over.
Whatever they had, it wasn’t built on thinking straight. Ken dropped by whenever Carrie called him after a long day, or whenever his boss had given him a hard time. It was stress relief, that’s all. There was nothing special about Carrie stripping off her sweaty work polo, just another day and another way to unwind.
That’s not to say the sex was bad. There was definitely some passion behind the way Ken wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a rough kiss. She felt him reaching behind her back to unhook her bra, then down to her waistband to undo her jeans, and she was ready to go.
“Bed?” she muttered. Ken nodded. She led him to her bedroom, sliding down and stepping out of her jeans as she walked. Ken stripped off his shirt and tossed it somewhere. They’d find it later.
Carrie laid on her back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. That spark would come back in a moment, she knew, as soon as Ken touched her again. And then he did, pressing his lips to her breast as he slid his hand under the fabric of her underwear. His fingers dipped inside her, quickly finding the spot that made Carrie moan. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, getting more aggressive. He lightly bit her nipple and sent shockwaves through her body.
They’d done this dance so many times, so when he pulled his fingers out of her and shucked off his pants, she was instantly there, kneeling on the bed, her hand on his arousal. If she had any doubts, this would be the point she’d remember why she agrees to this stress relief. His dick was pretty much perfect for her, a circumcised eight inches. As a plus, he kept it clean, so when she took him into her mouth, all she smelled and tasted was his sex.