Careful What You Wish For

When people look at my husband, even from a distance, the flash of knowing that they know him from SOMEWHERE is something that will never grow old for me. Nor do their attempts to narrow the "WHERE" in the word.

Adam, ever good-natured and rarely prone to actual theatrics - regardless of the person trying (and inevitably failing) to discern "WHERE" they know him from. His dark eyes, forever darker when they lock on mine, also constantly hold a warning. Which is ridiculous, in my not so humble opinion, I swear he's more sensitive about his former career - and has a compulsion to keep it from tarnishing my own - that he sucks the fun out of torturing those "well-meaning" duds that rack their brains when the truth is RIGHT THERE.

"Did you really need to -" his tone would try to sound scolding, but there was always a current of amusement - I guess that's what love could do, take something that you should be irritated about and make it cute or funny.

And I would cut him off with a smirk - since this was literally our daily lives - "Yes," since he would be intent on carrying on with the trainwreck of attempting to rein me in - especially when this part of me just truly fucking adored every single piece and part of him, except maybe a slice of one. "Yes, Adam, I did really need to -"

What I'd remind him that I'd needed to depended on the person and situation. Considering this had been - like when I mentioned that he'd "acted" under different names to the priest who would marry us and then gave his former names, smiling wickedly when he'd recognized the one that wasn't from his more mainstream work. Or the clearly overly anxious - read hot for my husband without shame, which fair, he's hot as hell - women and men who are hoping they recognize him from Starbucks or better a club that he flirted with them at, only for me to do the same offer for his former work (without mentioning the genre) and seeing the blushes creep over their skin.

Adam would prefer I just let them think that Starbucks is the cause for their nagging need to know where they've seen his handsomeness at - but it wasn't where I found out, or at least became aware of him. And why should it bother me to know that every person who has that flicker of knowledge not only know what his face looks like, but they know every inch of his body, at least visually?

You see, Adam used to work in adult entertainment, in case you didn't guess, and that's actually how I first laid eyes on him - while he was playing the dirty stepdaddy to some nymph of a stepdaughter and let's just say my entire being was stolen with one murmured chuckle as he took and gave so perfectly. And one hit of his work and I was a fan, going so far as delving into his beginnings and finding out he started in gay porn. If you think seeing the man I would eventually marry suck and fuck another guy (and be fucked by a guy) would be a turn off, then God help you for that horrible thought.

I used him as one of my muses - building characters around his looks and his actual enjoyment of sex and everything that came along with it. And one day, when my professional dreams were finally realized and then exceeded, I made the choice that changed both of our lives. I arranged to meet him to tell him how much his work had helped shape my own.

And the rest, as they say is history - although definitely tinged with me embarrassing that priest on the path to our future, but can anyone blame me?

I could feel his gaze on me, the intensity of his dark eyes roaming over every inch of me from the top of my hair and head to the tips of my toes peeking out from the strappy sandals I'd just put on, even as my own eyes were locked on the mirror of my vanity as I rechecked my makeup. I knew that he knew every stitch that I wore, since he'd watched me dress from my skin out, once he'd reminded me one more time how much he fucking adored me against the shower wall.

"Are you sure you have to go out tonight?" Laying on our bed, wearing low slung gray sweatpants, I nearly fucking caved and said I could stay, but no - I had to be strong. His voice was deliciously dark and deep and I really wanted to let him rip every single shred of fabric from my body and slide back into me, but - sighing, I nodded. "Tell me again why tonight has to be girls night?"

The lie of where I was going nearly undid me, but I forced a smile and pushed down the worry that nagged me into just fucking staying home and pushing away this feeling I had that THIS is really something we needed. "Tonight has to be girls night because -" I moved closer so he could pull me onto the bed over him, feeling both sadistic and masochistic due to my lack of self control when Adam reaches for me. "I haven't spent nearly enough time with Tara and Kelsie," I hadn't, but tonight wasn't going to change that. "And while I'd love to -" seriously not an ounce of control when he was this close, since my hips locked against his and they rocked, feeling how he was getting harder with every brush of my body against his.

It was torture to leave him, to know he'd be amped up and ready for me, but I needed this as much as I had to go out. I wanted him ready for me, yearning for me, it would make everything I had planned so much easier. To know he was pacing and thinking about all the ways he wants to take me, to know that as soon as he hears my key in the door that he'll be ready to pounce, and then -

Groaning, I let my forehead drop to his. "I need to go," it came out husky and breathy, because he wasn't playing fair as I rocked on top of him, his hands were locked on my hips and he was making sure that his growing length was hitting every spot that would make me just as fucking feral as I wanted to make him. "Wait up for me?" I was pleading with him, and it was loud and clear in how I arched against him.

"As if I could sleep without you in bed with me," he scoffed, his hands leaving my hips to frame my face. "I should dress and go with you -" my heart thudded at the idea of him catching me so soon, but he just brushed his nose across mine and let our breaths mingle. "But I should be an enlightened guy and kiss you goodbye so you can have fun with your friends."

And that, the searching and hungry kiss notwithstanding, was why I really did have to go. This absolute obsession he had with making me happy regardless of what he wanted, and while I knew that a few of my wants were clearly in his "NO" column, I also knew that I had to push past them to get what we both needed. What I knew deep down we both needed.

Reluctant and with parts of me that I didn't feel like listening to screaming to stay and ignore this urge to go and do what I hoped would fix what wasn't really broken about us, but might rip us apart in a way that I didn't want to linger on - I managed to get to my feet, with Adam's strong grip helping steady me, and as I knew he would, he walked me to the door to kiss me again before I left.

The lights were dim when I finally came home, fingers laced with strong warm ones - not the hand that I loved, or the one that wore the band I'd placed on his ring finger in front of that poor embarrassed priest - pulling him along and into the house as my key unlocked the door. A thrill went through me as he pushed my back against the hard surface as soon as we crossed the threshold, and with his face buried in my neck, I knew that he didn't hear the soft footfalls that told me Adam was coming to greet me. Timing it just right, I pulled the dark curls with my clutching fingers so his mouth found mine, my eyes open and locked on the hallway so they could meet my husband's as soon as he turned the corner. My heart lurched as his eyes widened when they saw me kissing this stranger, the foreign body pressed tight against mine, my fingers clenched in his hair, and I knew that the soft light was making my wedding rings twinkle.

Pulling away from the urgent and hungry lips that felt like they were going to devour me, I smirked up at Adam. "Hi, Honey, I'm home." The man I'd brought with showed no signs of fear or timidness, as he shouldn't since - unlike with my gorgeous and perfect husband - I'd been completely honest with him about what I wanted tonight. So his mouth stayed hungry, searching the skin of my neck and shoulder that was left bare by the thin strapped dress I'd worn to find him, his fingers teasing the hemline, lightly touching my hips and higher.

Adam was immobile, and I could read the flickering emotions as they flitted across his face - anger, betrayal, then as if he finally understood, with our gazes still locked, the realization of what I really wanted - had always wanted, or at least part of it. He was still wearing those damn sweatpants, and a glance told me he wasn't nearly as limp as his anger and fear of my betrayal should have made him. Freeing one hand, I raised my finger and crooked it to show him that I wanted him closer, close enough to touch and taste.

"What did you do," he murmured, once he closed the distance and he stood tall over me and my friend, but there wasn't real heat in his words - not angry heat, and then his mouth slammed against mine and the moan that escaped from me, caused the man who had me pinned against the door to rock his hips into mine.

Nipping at my bottom lip, Adam pulls back a little and I smile when I see his hand stroke down the other man's back. "Adam," his eyes lock back onto mine and I lick my lips, God he looks so hungry. "I want you to meet, Matt," at the sound of his name, Matt reluctantly licks up my neck so he can meet Adam's gaze, just as reluctant to look away from me. "Matt, my husband Adam."

And then, with my hand still on the back of Matt's head, I push him closer to Adam's face, watching as they grow closer and closer, until one of Matt's hands cups my husband's cheek and their lips meet. Dear God, the growl vibrates through Adam as his mouth opens and their tongues touch.

Adam's fingers slide into my hair, and then he pulls away from Matt to take my mouth again, letting me taste his tongue and while I know I can't really taste Matt's mouth, knowing that he left his for mine makes a shiver roll through me from my toes to my head. When his lips draw away from mine, his gaze still focused on me, and me alone, even though I can feel his hand on Matt's skin as if it were burning my own - I swallow down all the fear I had for pushing for this when he asks me if I'm sure this is what I want.

"Yes," hushed, but needy I'm practically begging him.

"Fine," it's sharp and pointed, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. HIs hand wraps around my upper arm and he pulls me from the door and Matt's clutches. "Bedroom. Now." But the order seems to be more for Matt, since he's dragging me down the hallway toward our room.

The thrill of finally seeing him like this, of a different sort of control coiling off of him like waves, rushes through me like fire.

He released my arm when we made it into our bedroom, his eyes zeroing in on the outfit he'd watched me put on before I left, and just as he'd traced my body with his eyes then, he went over the same route with exacting intensity, as if he were looking for a loose thread to pick and pull.

"Matt," still sharp, but with a sensual undercurrent, he smiled as he ordered the other man to undress me. "Slowly, and start top to bottom."

I barely noticed Matt's fingers brushing my skin, my focus was entirely on Adam and how he studied me as if I were some new specimen he wasn't sure what he should do with - the spaghetti straps slipping from my shoulders was less than a whisper against my skin, even when the dress pooled around my feet and left me in the satin and lace bra and panty set. Matt must have gone behind me to unfasten my bra, since I could feel the cool air tease my nipples into peaks when it joined my dress on the floor. It took the sliding of my panties to my ankles, with Matt's fingers wrapping around each to lift them free from my feet to realize I was almost completely naked. Before he could pull my sandals off, Adam stopped him.

"I think she looks better with that extra height, don't you, Matt?" Swallowing hard as he gestured for Matt to stand close to him to stare at my naked body, I waited for the next command. It didn't come, not when he turned to the other man and curled his hand around his neck to draw his face closer to kiss his lips.

Naked and apart from Adam and the man I'd chosen to help unlock this inner beast of his, I realized that perhaps he planned on not touching me - on forcing me to watch as he gave me at least part of what I wanted. His eyes opened and locked back on me, and with a shudder of relief he gave me the same little curled finger to tell me to come closer.

Pulling away from Matt's mouth, first he mirrored how I'd held their heads by the front door to urge their lips to meet - cupping my head and pushing me toward the other man, who all too willingly took my mouth hungrily. He didn't allow it to last for long, tugging my hair gently with his fingers, tilting my head back so I could see only his face and demanding that I undress Matt as he had me.

"Should I leave his shoes on as well?" I knew it was a bratty thing to say, and as soon as it left my mouth and his eyes narrowed, I wished I could take it back.

"One," he muttered, eyes locked on mine. "If I get to three, you'll find out what pushing me too far earns you, sweetheart."

The lump that I swallowed in my throat could have been fear, or excitement at his warning, but rather than examine it, I chose to do as Adam asked.

Starting at the top, carefully pulling Matt's shirt free from his pants and unbuttoning each button I finally managed to push it from his shoulders to fall to the floor. "Fold that," Adam commanded, and I found myself bending over to pick it up and hearing the small hitch in my husband's breath as I presented a full view of - well of everything. "Carefully," he warned, and while a tiny part of me wanted to ball it up and toss it in a corner, that threat of hearing "2" kept me in check. Once the shirt was folded, I sat it down on the bed and watched as Adam took a seat next to it.

"Pants," he reminded me, when I took a moment to steady myself. Unhooking and pulling Matt's belt free, I added it to his shirt, and didn't miss Adam picking it up and moving it behind him. Shit. Button and zipper were next, then I followed the fabric of his pants to the floor, and copied how he helped lift each of my feet to free him from them. Repeating my folding and then laying them on top of the shirt. "Stay there, kneeling while you take off his underwear." Another deep breath and I faced the ever growing bulge trapped behind his boxer briefs. Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I started to pull them down - "Make sure you don't catch his cock on that," almost too late to stop it from happening, I paused and then adjusted my grip to keep the fabric from snagging on his sensitive skin. The same path as the pants, the same helping hand to free them from his feet, and then I was lifting those feet again, to pull them off, and then his socks. Everything folded carefully and set aside.

"Don't get up," of course not, kneeling was clearly my new place in Adam's vision. The slight shift on the bed, no noise, just our sheets sliding gently as he rose to his feet - then his fingers were touching my chin to raise my face to meet his gaze. "Now, I know this is what you want, isn't it?" Nodding, he shook his head. "Two," fuck, my stomach clenched. "Words, you know you have to use your words."

"Yes, I want this," all of it, my body screamed, but I knew that would probably get me to "3" faster than a speeding bullet.

The smile that flashed across his lips was a new one, but no less beautiful. "Remember you said that," and then, Matt's belt wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me closer to his legs. "Now I think I'm a little overdressed, don't you?" I almost nodded, and the smirk he graced me with told me he knew, but I quickly used my voice to affirm that he was. "I think you know how to fix that," my hands were actually trembling as they hooked in the soft waistband of his sweats, and I had to remind myself that not only did I want this, but that I should be very careful how I took them off. He didn't loop the belt completely around my neck, only using it to keep me in place from behind, but the fact the leather was against my skin was both arousing and a warning. As careful as I'd been with Matt, I was doubly so with Adam, and I took special care to lift each of his feet so he didn't lose his balance. Unlike Matt, I knew Adam was only wearing his sweats, so once they were free of his bare feet, he was as bare as both of us - well more so than me, still wearing my heeled sandals. "Good girl," he murmured, and a rush of pleasure flowed through me, and that knowing smirk hit me like a freight train.

"Sit back on your heels, careful of the shoes," right, because impaling myself on my own damn footwear would suck right now. "Isn't she a pretty little pet?" He was staring at me, but obviously asking Matt.

"So fucking pretty," he agreed, and I knew his eyes were as laser focused on me as Adam's.

Adam's eyes were so dark they looked black, and his cock was as rigid as I'd ever seen it. "She wants me to fuck you, Matt," my breath caught and he smiled. "But first, I think you should show her how you suck a cock," my thighs tensed, trying to subtly close and give me a taste of friction. "Do you really want to get to three that badly, darling?" Shit, how did he fucking know? "Stay right here," pulling on the belt, he had me inches from his cock. "Matt wants to show you precisely what you hoped to see." And with that final warning, I watched as a pair of masculine lips wrapped around Adam's cock - my husband's cock, a cock that I teasingly named "Mine" when he rolled his eyes at my query about what he named it - and I'd never expected to be so fucking turned on by witnessing it live and in living color. "Do you like that, seeing my cock disappear into his mouth?" The urge to nod, since my throat was almost choked with lust, was almost overwhelming - but somewhere in the recesses of my horny brain I remembered the lurking "3".

"Yes, I love it," barely a whisper, but from the way he slid his fingers through my hair so gently as if he were petting me, I knew he heard me.

Humming, he told me he liked it too. Switching the hand that held the belt once his fingers combed free from my hair, his newly freed hand found the back of Matt's head. With a command for me to pay close attention, I watched as he used that hand to hold him in place and thrust into Matt's mouth, with more force than he'd ever dared use with me. He fucked his face, pulling the belt so I was pulled close enough to touch or share, but he warned me not to. "You wanted this," a reminder, and a threat rolled into one. "Don't worry, you'll get a taste." It didn't sound as soothing as I was hoping.

He didn't use Matt's mouth for too long, clearly he wanted it to prove a point to me. "On the bed," since he was tugging the belt, I knew he once again meant me. "On your hands and knees, in the middle." He didn't make the belt uncomfortable, since it was obviously more a prop to prove to me he was truly in charge, so I managed to position myself easily. "God, look at how wet you are," a finger slid up my soaking slit as he gave a dark chuckle. "I think my pet wants something, don't you?"

Another finger joined the first, from a different hand since it stroked a little gentler - almost like a tickle or a tease - and Matt told him he was right. "I think you deserve to taste her," and then Matt's ever insatiable mouth and tongue were lapping at my dripping wetness. "She's sweet isn't she?" The hum that Matt chose to use to agree nearly toppled me. "Careful, if you fall that'll be 3." Dear God, even giving into a pleasure he ordered was going to fucking ruin me. "Listen to your little moans," his fingers were sliding along my spine and my back arched to meet them. "Your noises are always something I fucking love," then he was laying back in front of me, his cock still glistening from Matt's attentions. "But you know what I love more?"