In my boyfriend's house

Once, the warm water and heating in my flat were not working. We all were freezing and couldn't wash, so I asked Fred if I could stay at his house for a couple of days, and he agreed. I was alone one morning, Fred had to go to town to meet somebody and his mother was working. I got a text from John, reading: "5 minutes?" I replied: "Can't, I'm at Fred's." He wrote back: "Alone?" I: "Yes". And sure enough, 5 minutes later I got one more text: "Open up!" I couldn't believe it. He wanted to have sex with me in my boyfriend's house. Room. Bed. I lead him to Fred's bedroom and he pushed me inside: "Come on, we haven't got much time!" He tore his clothes off, while I still stared at him incredulously. "Come on, doggy!" he said. It was then I woke up, pulled my trousers and pants down at once, knelt on the bed and also said: "Come on, hurry up!" He pushed his hard cock inside – it always seemed to be hard - and I wondered once more how quickly my pussy got wet whenever his cock was near. He started pumping hard at once, and I moaned faintly. I had always been able to control the sounds that came out of my mouth during sex, but this didn't mean that I didn't enjoy it. For a split second I thought about how strange and "dirty" it was to have sex with another man in my boyfriend's bedroom, then this other man climaxed and it was all over. Being licked in this bed would have been too much. John cleaned himself quickly, got dressed again and winked: "We are two right little pigs, eh?" I smiled back and he left. Yes, I felt like a real sow and I couldn't decide whether I liked it or not. But I did not spend much time thinking about it. I had enjoyed it as always, and I also felt guilty as always.