Sharing

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This starts off a bit on the slow side, but builds to what I think is a satisfying conclusion by the end of Part Three. The romance and the seduction are important to me.

*****

"Nervous?" I ask with a smile, seeing you grasp the slender stem of the wine glass just a bit too tightly. If you aren't careful, you will end up breaking the glass in your hand, which would be a terribly unsatisfying ending to our night.

We are together in an extended stay suite, located in a city not too far away from our own. There is a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket with two empty glasses sitting nearby, along with a decanter filled with a fine 12-year single malt, besides which there are three shot glasses, and a pair of glass tumblers. The suite is stocked with a complete kitchenette, but I suspect we won't be using most of it.

I relax back onto the couch, watching you pace anxiously back and forth through the television room of the suite. The couch folds out into a Queen-size bed, but down the hallway there is a bedroom which holds a King bed, and I suspect that we will be making use of that over the hide-a-bed. You have already set out a lingerie set in the bedroom, unaware that I have slipped a second set into our luggage as well.

You look back to me with tightly pursed lips and a worried look in your eyes. "I'm just not sure about this," you say, taking another sip of liquid courage before setting the now empty glass down on the counter. The black dress you wear clings to you, showing your curves off to best effect, although the built-in bra top is not very thick. You may be nervous, but your body betrays you to say how you really feel.

"We can still call it off," I say as I stand and cross the room to you. I put my hands on your hips, and look you in they eyes. Your hands come up between us, slipping under my jacket and fiddling with the buttons on my shirt. I wear no tie, and your fingers graze the opening of the shirt collar, tickling the fine chest hairs that emerge. My fingers squeeze gently as I pull you close to me. "You know that I will never make you do anything that you truly don't wish to do. But this has been something I've wanted to do for some time, and each time we've played with idea, you cum hard enough to scream." I kiss you as I press my lower body against yours. I can feel the heat radiating from between your legs, and I make certain that you can feel how hard I am. "Do you trust me?"

You look down, slightly abashed. "You know that I do, Sir."

"Then we *can* stop. But I don't want to. And I think that you don't want us to either. You just want me to command you to do it, to free you from the responsibility of deciding for yourself. If you're obeying my orders, then you don't have to confess that you do *want* to do this."

I slide my hands from your hips back to the full curves of your buttocks, and pull you in even tighter. "I'm yours," you say as my lips find your neck. "To do with as you please." And I smile, because I know the unspoken part of that sentence. You know that "as I please" will always translate to "what will please you."

I raise my lips from your neck and kiss you deeply, claiming your mouth as mine. You melt into the kiss, lips parted to allow my tongue to probe into you. Our kiss goes on for a minute before we hear a knock at the door. I break the kiss and look into your eyes. "It's time," I say. I step away from you and gently urge you to the entrance to our rented suite. "Go let him in, my pet."

The wedges of your shoes indent the carpet as you step towards the door. You take a wistful glance at the whiskey, and I know that you wish you could stop for a shot. But you follow my orders, close the distance, and reach a delicate hand out to unlatch the door.

You pull it open, and see him standing on the other side, waiting out in the hallway. He is wearing a red silk shirt with no jacket, the top two buttons undone, and black jeans. He is taller than me by a few inches, which makes him definitely taller than you. His beard is salt and pepper, his head is bald, and he looks at you appreciatively with hazel eyes, eyeing you like a gourmand would look upon a finely prepared meal. He offers his hand, and when you take it, he quickly pulls it to his lips. It is a practiced move, and corny, but I know it affects you. He knows it as well, because I told him it would. He introduces himself to you, saying his name. I am not certain it is his actual identity, although it is the one he shared with me. But then, the names I gave him for you and myself aren't our real ones either.

"Well, pet, won't you show our guest in?"

You lead him in, closing the door behind you. I note that you do latch the door, ensuring privacy should any hotel employees come by. I meet the two of you by the counter, and gesture towards the wine, offering him some refreshment before I offer him something I hold a bit more precious.

It is interesting. Although I've spoken to him before, and I am rarely at a loss for words, I do not know how to begin this conversation. What is the proper way to greet the man who is there to fuck your wife? I laugh at the discomfort of the whole situation as I hand him a glass of wine, and then pour one for myself.

"Why don't we all take a seat and get to know one another?" I suggest, and we adjourn to the couch and chair by the television. The set is on, tuned to one of the music channels that live on the bottom half of the channel range, and providing some dim light to the room as well as soft instrumental music. I take the chair before he can, and indicate that you and he should sit on the couch together.

We begin to chat, sharing details about ourselves that live in that marvelous range of information that makes you feel like you're getting to know the person even while you keep any truly personal information private. But then, the point of this conversation isn't to make a new life-long friend. It's to relax all three of us, to give the wine time to act, and for you to have time to allow his presence to affect you. I knew you would be attracted to him even before I shared his photo with you, and although you tried to hide your reaction when I did, I know you too well for you to succeed. His presence on the couch next to you is already turning you on. I can see the points of your nipples through your dress, and I see how you rub your thighs together. I am certain that should I check, you would already be wet.

I had already told him how best to proceed with you, and as we have talked, he has slowly moved closer to you on the couch. When I suggest that we refill our glasses, he starts to stand, and when I tell him that I have things well in hand, when he sits back down, his leg is pressed up against yours. You do not flinch away, but instead lean into him. Excellent.

The conversation continues, light and breezy, with none of us paying much attention to our words, as I refill two wine glasses. The translucent liquid sparkles like diluted liquid gold. I also take a tumbler and fill it with two fingers of the whiskey, and as I walk back into the seating area, I hand him one glass of wine, keeping the other for myself, as I hand you the tumbler.

You raise an eyebrow inquisitively, and I nod, telling you to drink it. This may be the most delicate part of planning the evening's activities. I do not wish to get you drunk. If you look back at tonight and can tell yourself that it was a mistake, or that what happens only happened because you were intoxicated, then it would have been better that we never attempted it. I do not want you to regret, nor do I want you to be able to forget.

But you are quite capable of holding your liquor, and I know that there is a perfect level of alcohol consumption for you that allows you to surrender to me unreservedly. That is where I want you tonight. That is where you want to be as well, and so you take a sip of the amber liquid, the burn in your throat matching the warmth it puts in your belly. I smile, and join the two of you on the couch, half turning my body so I can still face him. He makes the same turn, and now we are both easily able to look at the other with you essentially trapped between us.

We resume the conversation, but as we talk, I allow one of my hands to fall on your leg, above the knee. I feel the smooth fabric of the dress slide across your skin as I gently massage your thigh, slowly making my way further up the leg. You give a low moan as my hand moves higher and higher, and I smile, nodding at our guest to tell him that he should mirror my actions.

You set down your now empty glass, and lean back against the couch to allow us to continue our exploration of your body. As of yet, neither of us have touched you anywhere intimate, but we all know now that it is simply a matter of time. You turn to look fully at me, eyes half-closed, lips parted slightly, skin slightly flushed, breathing deeply, and your hand comes down to rest on my cock, giving it the slightest of squeezes through my slacks. Your other hand is not quite so bold, but is resting on his denim covered leg, and I see it begin to creep towards his manhood.

I lean in to kiss you, and you respond with an intensity I was not entirely prepared for. You are hungry for this, this sense of being worshipped by two men simultaneously, the feel of two sets of hands on you, two sets of lips tasting you, two cocks plowing into you.

*Soon*, I think to myself. I take my hand from your leg and find our friend's. I pull it up so that he can feel your breast, and as soon as I place it there, I bring my own back down, cupping your pussy through your thin dress.

You moan into my mouth, and as I dart my tongue into yours, tracing the edge of your teeth, I can only surmise what he is doing to you. Is he slowly massaging your breast? Has he taken your nipple between his fingers? Is he stroking you? Is he pinching? Squeezing the entirety of your mammary in his hands? I could look, but it is far more exciting to me to not know, but only to see your reaction. From the corner of my eye, I can see that his head has come down to your neck, and I know that he is nibbling on the sensitive nape of your neck and earlobes, just as I told him would drive you wild.

I pull back from the kiss, take my hand and tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at me, and also lengthening your neck, giving him better access.

"Do you like what he is doing to you, my pet?"

You smile, and breathe heavily as you reply "Yes, oh, yes."

"Then don't you think you should show your appreciation?" I tilt your head towards him, and he brings his head away from your neck, meeting your lips with his as he kisses you. There is nothing loving in this kiss, it is a kiss of pure hunger and desire, and you meet it with equal intensity.

My hand slides up under your dress, feeling the silky texture of your leg as I trace up to the juncture between your thighs. Your silken panties are soaking wet, and I push the fabric inside, plunging a finger deep within you. I rarely enter you without spending time teasing you first, but your body craves this release too much for me to take my time.

You moan into his mouth, and your hand comes away from my cock to grip my forearm. I pull away slightly, so I can see you enjoy his kiss, his caress, even as you respond to my fingers inside of you, my thumb ever so insistently rubbing against your clit. I cannot see your left breast at all under his hand, but I can see that your right nipple is erect, poking nearly through your dress. And while your right hand has left my cock to hold my arm, I can see that your left is stroking his manhood through his jeans. I lick my lips appreciatively at the size of the bulge I can see that he is packing. Although I was aware of how endowed he was before tonight, seeing it in person is different, and I eagerly await seeing it enter you.

Your fingers are playing along his length, and I see as they begin to fumble with the button at his waist. You're eager now, pet. Which means that it's time for me to move things to the next step.

My fingers exit your wet pussy, and I grasp your wrist before you succeed in fishing out his cock. "Why don't you go put on something a bit more comfortable before we continue, pet." It is not a suggestion or a question, and you know it. So, reluctantly, you allow me to pull your hand away from your new toy.

You stand, a bit too smoothly for my tastes, and start to walk back to the bedroom when I call to you, stopping you. "Wait, pet." I stand as well, walk over and pour you another shot of the whiskey. "Drink this first." You look at me. "Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?" you ask with a small laugh.

"Yes," I reply. As you start to sip the whiskey, I lean in and whisper in your ear. "I know what you packed. There is another set in the front pocket. It would please me if you were wearing that when you return." Your eyes widen, and I know that you have already figured out which outfit I brought with us.

"Yes, sir," you say as you start to walk away, looking back over your shoulder at both him and me with longing in your eyes.

I rejoin our guest on the couch, leaving enough space between us for you when you return, although it will be a tighter fit. "Are you enjoying my pet?" I ask him once you are gone.

He smiles broadly. "I am."

"Good," I respond. "And just wait until you see what else she has in store for you."