"Honey, have you ever noticed how he stares at me? How he stares at both of us?" Phoebe was referring to her husband's younger friend, Michael. To be honest, Ed never really spoke much about Michael, so it didn't surprise her when he shrugged his shoulders to the question. "Did you hear me?" He did, but he didn't want her to know that very thing was fully on his mind. Then again, while Phoebe never mentioned Michael in earlier conversations herself, she was no stranger to sinful thoughts when it came to other men.
Phoebe's mind wandered off. Michael's younger than them both, but what's wrong with that? Okay, well he's not that much younger when you think about it, and he does have that tall, firm body. He also looks like he can handle himself just fine in the sack.
Ironically, what she didn't know is how her thoughts would likely come back to bite her.
Ed had been planning a special get-together to fulfill a lewd fantasy playing out in his head. He had cleverly devised a way to satisfy both their growing sexual urges, by incorporating the willingness of this eager boy to complete the ménage. No matter his age, Ed still thought of Michael as a boy, and he suspected that's how Phoebe probably saw him too. He was sure though, that they both had narrowed in on him as a source of fulfilling some much-needed play time.
Unbeknownst to Phoebe, Ed had met with Michael on several previous occasions, each time with the pretense of discussing "guy stuff," during which he gradually planted the seeds of wishful things to come. Initially, Michael may have been an unwitting participant in the depravity that lay ahead in Ed's scheme, but he wanted a piece of them both more than he let on. Each of their brief meetings delved a little deeper into heavier dialog, ultimately leading up to sex and those inevitable "would you?" questions from Ed. Guys are so predictable. If they weren't measuring their cocks or talking cars and beer, then women and sex were definitely on the agenda of any conversation. In hindsight, Ed could have just come straight out and asked Michael if he wanted to have a three-way with them, but even he wasn't gutsy or uninhibited enough to go that far too quickly. It would have been one thing altogether if he simply wanted to watch Michael have sex with Phoebe, but he had a partial interest in Michael himself. When your innermost bi thoughts involve a guy's lips wrapped around your cock -- and neither party's gay, vocalizing yourself has to be slightly more scripted toward erring on the side of caution. After all, it's a fine line between inviting a third wheel to play...and "outing" your most-guarded thoughts. Make no mistake, if Phoebe wasn't an intimate part of this sexual equation, the math would be simple: zero mano-e-mano action. Secrecy was essential if Ed was to successfully pull this off with the maximum bang for them both.
No way Ed was ever Phoebe's fool. He knew her better than she realized when it came to sex, and he had every intention of pushing all her buttons before the night was over. He'd made allowances for everything to flow with the precision of a well-rehearsed covert military operation. It was Saturday and the kids were safely off to the grandparents for the entire weekend, there were no burning chores or errands on the honey-do list, and neither had to be back to work until Monday. They had the house all to themselves, he had the dinner menu taken care of, and he promised her a special treat for dessert.
Sure, she's a girl, so yeah, she asked what it was. She also knew him well enough to know his Cheshire Cat grin meant she'd need to wait till later to find that out.
As they strolled around the house late in the afternoon, you could sense the sexual tension building in the air. His subtle smiles and glances, the little play on words when answering the simplest of questions, and what was with all those pinches to her ass today? Friskiness wasn't new to them, but there was definitely some bounce in the boy's step all day. And, that cocky attitude was making Phoebe feel a bit warmer than usual in places that would normally be described as "reserved for special occasions." Little did she know what was in store for her.
After a really nice day overall, Ed cooked a BBQ fit for a queen. His queen. He had all her favorites, from the meat to the side dishes. He even broke out a bottle of wine she liked, with another in reserve, so Phoebe knew her panties were gonna end up tossed to the floor before the clock struck midnight. Curiosity had her in its grip, but if she'd learned anything when it came to Ed, you never question the gift horse when it gallops up. You simply mount him bareback and hang on for the ride...wherever the big stud takes you.
When dinner was over, Ed offered to let her relax while he cleaned up, or she was welcome to join him in the kitchen. Since she knew he was up to no good (in the best possible way) and intended to keep a close eye on him, she grabbed a towel to dry as he washed. As she set the last glass in the dish rack, Ed swooped in and planted his mouth on hers. Before her brain could react to what just happened, his tongue made its way past her lips and into her mouth. A gasp was all she could muster at that very moment, melting into him and responding with her own tongue wrapping itself around his. Maybe it was the wine, maybe the tension that had built up throughout the afternoon, but the needle on her sex-o-meter jumped to "Hey mister, let's get this show on the road!"
Still tangled up with her, Ed steered their mass of hormone-soaked, clothed flesh toward the bedroom. Those clothes better come off any second, or else these two will be headed shopping tomorrow, to replace the tattered remnants left along their path from the kitchen to the bedroom. Ed's hands were all over her. On her face, under her blouse, down the front of her shorts, groping his ass cheeks, and intermittently entwined in her hair. Even though he remained on sort of on the gentle and sensual side for the time being, his hands were savage in their actions nonetheless. He didn't pop a button, didn't tear at her clothes, but make no mistake, he was doing the next best thing. Although the trip down the hall took less than two minutes, it seemed much longer. Their minds screamed for something much more physical to happen.
Unmistakably, Phoebe felt him growing into her pelvis as he sporadically ground against her. The instant they were in the room, everything stopped. She froze like a deer in the headlights, unable to comprehend how all that passion came to a screeching halt in the blink of an eye. Her head was throbbing, her heart pounding, and wetness had begun to form between her legs.
His eyes drilled into her. "Now, my pet, you're going to do something for me." His voice was soft, yet commanded her utmost attention. As confident as he was, she was equally confused. He had her right where he needed her. She was toast.
