"So, I guess what I'm saying is: feel free to fuck my wife tonight."
And so it began. How they got to that point was both specific and generic - a few beers (and maybe a few more), increasingly bawdy conversation and suggestive body language, and finally a man-to-man chat while Carrie conveniently dismissed herself to use the bathroom.
She returned to the living room to see her husband Tim laughing and tossing back the last of his beer while their friend Shane stood, rooted in place, jaw flapping wordlessly.
"You look like someone just hit you over the head," Carrie said, not unkindly, to Shane.
Shane forced a little laugh. "That's pretty much how I feel," he muttered, then quickly added, "but not in a bad way."
"No hard feelings if you're not interested, though," Carrie reassured him. "You're not going to wound my womanly pride if I'm not your type or you're just not in the mood. We can just keep drinking like nothing happened and I'll fuck Tim after you leave."
"No, I'm interested!" he blurted out a little too quickly. "I'm just... not sure how this is supposed to work."
"Insert tab A into slot B," Carrie laughed. "No, really, I understand. It's a weird situation. Have a seat and finish your drink; I'll grab us one more each."
Grateful to be out of the spotlight, Shane sat back down on the sofa and drained his beer. Tim sat in the recliner, looking rather pleased with himself. Carrie bounced back in with three opened bottles, delivered Tim's to him, and settled in on the couch next to Shane. She rested her hand casually on his thigh and stroked it gently. Shane felt his cock stiffen and shifted in his seat.
"Mmm, feeling a little uncomfortable?" Carrie inquired, turning to face him and moving her hand up towards the conspicuous bulge in his pants.
"Nothing a little attention won't fix," Shane replied, his hand moving to the back of her neck, ready to pull her in for a kiss. Then, as if suddenly remembering Tim, he looked up and asked, "You sure about this, man?"
It was Carrie who responded. "He's always wanted to watch me in action. He might want in on it later, but for now, I'm yours."
Shane looked at Tim as if he still didn't quite believe all this. "Seriously, man," Tim assured him, "Do what you want. Stay out here, take her to bed, whatever. I always get mine eventually."
Carrie straddled him. "I saw you looking at my tits before. Don't pretend you don't want them." She pulled her shirt up over her head, exposing a lacy slate-gray bra. He groaned involuntarily and lost whatever was left of his self-control and hesitance.
She was tall, and straddling him as she was, her breasts sat conveniently at eye level. He massaged them gently through her bra, pulling her towards him and kissing her gently on the upper chest and neck.
"You don't have to be so nice," she practically growled. "You're always too nice. Just take what you want. Be a little bit of an asshole. I like it."
Music. To. His. Ears. His most recent long-term girlfriend had constantly chastised him for being too hard, too hungry, too... animalistic. The experience had left him hesitant, never wanting to offend or hurt. Not a problem tonight, apparently. He roughly pulled her bra up, exposing her tits. He took one in his hand and the other into his mouth.
As he nibbled, sucked, and licked her right nipple, he experimented with her left, pinching it between his fingers to see how much she really wanted. Her moans of pleasure and brief yelps of pain rose in volume as he worked her nipple harder, harder, harder. He bit down, not gently, on her right nipple.
