My husband and I had planned a cookout for Memorial Day weekend. We planned it as safely as we could- outdoors, we have plenty of space between the backyard, the deck and the patio. We invited my husband’s ****** that lived nearby, our friends that were in the area, and planned to have the pool open and the traeger going first thing in the morning. All in all, we were expecting around 40 people.

One person my husband wasn’t expecting was Andre. I had met Andre last year, in a story for another time, and we had met up twice since then. After some internal back and forth about whether it was a good idea or not, I reached out to him and invited him. Our cover story, which I gave to my husband, was that he was a co-worker whose ****** was out of state for the holiday weekend, while he stayed behind to watch the dog and finish a project at work that had a deadline. We’d socialized with co-workers and their spouses before, so this wasn’t too much of a stretch.

My husband barely needed convincing, as long as he brought some beer and left the dogs at home. I let Andre know this would likely be a tease of an afternoon, as I didn’t expect, or really want anything to happen other than the thrill of him being there. I thought Andre would jump at the opportunity to see me again, but with my restrictions he wasn’t very interested at first and I had to work a little bit to convince him.

He arrived politely late with a small contribution of Coors. I introduced him to my husband and a few guests, then let him mingle and keep an eye on him. I wish I could say he did fine, but he didn’t know anyone else and ended up hanging out at the grills with my husband. I let him hang for a little bit, letting the cold worry in the pity of my stomach interact with the adrenaline before heading over.

They were talking about cars when I got there. My husband’s been working on a Pontiac Firebird for a number of years without a lot of headway, and apparently Andre saw it in the garage on the way in. They continued for a little while, and then my husband asked me to fetch the wings and ribs from inside. “Three containers with blue lids, on the left side of the fridge in the basement,” he said, and then to Andre “Do you want to give her a hand? At least with the doors?” I had thought Andre would be the one searching for any slight opportunity to get me alone this afternoon and my husband was giving us one himself. “We’ll be right back, leave your drink” I told Andre, and he followed me across the deck and through the sliding door. There was no one in the kitchen as we got in, and the blast of cool AC felt nice inside. I led him to the hallway and to the stairs to the basement.

I had on a bikini under my tank top and shorts. I wasn’t planning on going in the pool, but it never hurts to be prepared, even if it is just being splashed, and having it on is a good indicator to our guests that it's an option. I was barely off the steps at the bottom when I felt his hands slide around my sides, each one coming around to cup one of my boobs. He pulled me back into him, fondling me and resting his chin on the top of my head. I could feel the weight of his dick against the small of my back as he pressed his crotch against me. “Not here” I said quietly, and pointed at the small windows which were partly visible from the backyard and pool area. I pulled away from him, but caught one of his hands and led him through a door into the unfinished part of the basement, where the laundry and fridge and freezer are. I turned the light on as I entered and then heard the door click closed behind us and he was all over me again. He turned me to face him, grabbed the bottom of my tank top and pulled it up, his fingers catching my bikini top on the way up, pulling me partly free. He immediately began squeezing my boob and pinching the nipple while plunging his other hand down the front of my shorts. He bent down for a kiss, darting into my mouth with his tongue and holding it for what seemed like a minute before he broke the kiss.

“Suck it or fuck it” he told me, not breaking eye contact. I was breathing a little heavily and didn’t say anything, so he removed his hand from my pants, where he had been slowly fingering me, and guided me to my knees. He adjusted my top so I was fully spilling out and waited until I pulled his firm but mostly soft cock out of his pants before grabbing a handful of my hair and guiding me from the back of my head. After a minute, he slouched so his free hand could grab my boob again, pinching and pulling on the nipple and he adjusted his cock so it rested on my face and he guided my head and tongue up and down the shaft. He let out a little sigh, closed his eyes, and began working my head a little faster, pulling on my nipple and earning a gasp from me. “Whit, I’m gonna come back and fuck you in your house,” he groaned. We continued for another minute before the slider opening upstairs from outside sent us scrambling to rearrange clothes and get ourselves back together.

Andre carried up the containers from the fridge easier- cooling his cock off on the cold glass, I’m sure, and to make it look like a two person job, I loaded up on the buns and rolls. We tromped upstairs and found my brother in law and his wife arguing about something in the kitchen, and they paid us no mind as we popped back outside.