My doorbell rings as I light the last of the candles in the living room. The room glows warm, orange and flickering. I pick up the bottle of cabernet I had brought out for my guests, tear off the foil and uncork it. I empty the bottle into a crystal carafe and set it down to breathe.
Making my way to the front door I pause a moment to check myself in the hallway mirror. Hair; suitably tousled. Skin; fresh -- well moisturised. Shirt; buttoned up? No down. Two down. One down. Two? I settle for one down.
I reach for the door handle and pause again. I unfasten a second button and smoothed over a crease in the body of my shirt.
I open the door, smiling.
"Sorry to have kept you. Please." I keep my voice level, deep and low as I gesture a welcome.
Phoebe stands there smiling in at me, she's wearing a long, smart coat that runs to cover the length of a her skirt. She's in heels, no tights. She walks through the door and leans in towards me, reaching up to kiss my cheek. I return a peck and she breezes past, kicking off her heels into a neat pair next to the shoe rack. She wanders off into the house and I turn to see Alex stepping through, spreading his arms wide.
"César." He offers, his tone warm and chipper. He's holding a bottle of red. "Good to see you!"
I pull him into a hug, the pair of us delivering to the other a meaty pat on the back the way men invariably do each time they hug other men.
"Thanks for coming." I say as we come apart.
"Thank you for having us." He says in return then hands me the bottle and closes the door.
"Ah! I just opened a cabernet for us!"
We enter the living room and she is lounging on the sofa, her coat dispatched off to the side, no clothes to be seen but for something close to underwear. She is clad in a stunning full set of black lace, complete with suspenders. Her heels are still on. Glossy black with red soles. She has poured herself a large glass of red and she smiles as the pair of us come to a stop, staring at her in the candlelight.
"Take off your clothes, both of you." She says, then sips at her red.
I turn to Alex, his eyes are wide with lust. I smile and think back to the first time I fucked this man's wife.
*
Phoebe's moans echoed around the room as I worked her with my mouth. My lips clamped against her clit, sucking gently and lapping at the swell of her with my tongue. Her juice was exquisite, drenching my tastebuds in the flavour of her excitement. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pulled her towards me, locking my mouth against her and breathing, drinking, consuming her. Her hips bucked and her voice uttered half-words, stoppered cries of encouragement cut short by jolts of ecstasy a YES, a FUCK -- Please! Or God, yes! The only intelligible noises coming from deep within her throat.
I felt nails digging into my skin as my tongue rapped against her. Her grip tightened and released, over and over as a scratch of fire caressed my neck and shoulders in sporadic fits. I didn't let up, I could feel her building each time I upped the rhythm. I shifted the way my arms gripped her, loosing one to reach up and push on the flat of her abdomen. I pressed firmly down, holding her in place while my other hand reach down and positioned a finger by her hole.
With my tongue still thrashing against her clit, my finger circled her opening, so slick with the nectar spilling from her as her climax neared. Her breath became louder, heavier as I pressed a second finger against her and slipped the tips of them both inside her. My fingers hooked and beckoned, searching out the spongy patch of flesh and pressing hard in rhythm with my tongue.
As I found my pace, so her fingers found my skin, gripping and clawing at me, latching on to anything she could find. My beard flooded with her juice and my mouth overflowed with lust and spit, soaking my hand to the wrist and drenching the material beneath her ass. My actions became frenzied and the pair of us rocked with the motion of our passion -- I felt her climax erupt and her body become some new thing, trembling, convulsing as the tremors of her orgasm rippled into my skin. I let the shaking subside and then pulled back from her. Her eyes studied me, a wild look between us as her torso heaved with her breathing.
Allowing no more than a moment, I tore down my boxer briefs, grabbed her thighs and dragged her close to me. I turned her, checking over to Alex to make sure the angle gave him a clear view. He locked eyes with me and I reached down between my legs, gripping my swollen cock and pointed in between Phoebe's thighs, my rock hard tip entered her, eliciting a moan. Keeping my eyes on Alex, forbidding his gaze to break, I plunged myself into Phoebe -- giving her my entirety and tightening my grip on her waist. Alex whimpered from the corner of the room and I smiled, then turned my attention to Phoebe.
I pounded into her wetness as she lifted her legs, allowing me in deeper. She moaned and my own breathing turned to heaving grunts as I gathered speed. Her hands clawed at me as she begged for more, I plunged my hard length into her over and over and over -- giving no respite, taking what was newly mine. Phoebe, ever committed, began to goad her husband, playing her role perfectly.
*Yes -- this -- Alex it's so big, he's so fucking -- big.*
Her words fueled my vigor and I drove into her, sliding in up to the hilt, drawing back and slamming down again. I wrapped my arm around her thigh, pushing it back against her own shoulder and hammered myself into her, harder with each stroke.
*You can't do it like this can you? See the way he's fucking me? Are you watching baby? FUCK. Don't you dare look away!*
I feel her body convulse, her juice spilling over my balls, spraying my thighs. I lay a palm flat on her abdomen and press firmly, feeling the rhythmic thud of my cock pumping through her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and a her throat erupted in a guttural scream.
*
Her voice brings me back to the present.
"Go sit in the corner Alex." She commands.
He pads over to the armchair, wearing only his boxer briefs, and takes a seat. I notice his boxers already tightening, his excitement stirring. I turn back to Phoebe who has edged forward, perching herself on the edge of my sofa, her thighs apart and the sheer black lace of her underwear doing a pretty rudimentary job of covering her sex. With my breathing elevated I push my trousers to the floor and less smoothly than I'd have liked, kick them off to the side by my shirt. My own boxers are swelling; like Alex's, my arousal is obvious. Phoebe smiles, takes a swig of wine and beckons me closer. Naturally I obey, stepping towards her and coming level with her knees. With one swift motion she reaches a free hand around my thigh, grasps hold and pulls me close between her thighs. My bulge throbs and, sheathed only by the stretched cotton of my underwear, presses against her face. She inhales and presses her face firmly against me, I can feel her cheek rubbing the length of me, the gentle chafe of the boxers as her lips clamp softly around my tip. She turns to the side, takes another swig of wine and sets down her glass. Before turning back to me she locks eyes with Alex and gives him a stern stare.
"You will take out that tiny prick, you will stroke yourself, but you will be slow. Do you understand?" She demands.
"Yes."
"I do not want you coming. You are not permitted. Am I clear?"
"Yes, you're clear." Alex replies softly. "Can I..."
"What?" She snaps at him.
"I can't see from here..." Alex's voice stays quiet, meek. It was true, He was almost in line with us, behind me -- zero view of the action from this angle.
