Entering the house, I find the living room dark, quiet. Having parked my car behind the two others, I know they are here; and I suspect where. Hanging up my coat, I kick off my heels and start up the stairs; my footfalls silent but it's not my intention to sneak up on them, although I must admit catching them would add a certain element.
My suspicions confirmed as I spy the soft glow emitting below the bottom edge of the bedroom door. Pausing a moment, I listen but I can only discern music playing within the room. Not loud, but enough, with the added barrier of the door, to cover any sound of my approach, with or without heels.
Smiling, I click on the bathroom light and enter. Brushing my teeth carefully before washing my face and undressing; folding my blouse and skirt before tossing them into the hamper. I examine myself in the mirror; pleased with my appearance I give my hair a quick brush. Why, I'm not sure, but I do. Another glance in the mirror and I decide to remove my bra as well, adding it to the other garments, leaving only my panties to cover me.
I rub my shoulders, then the sides of my breasts, where the bra straps and cups had pressed against my skin. Massaging partly to relieve the formerly compressed flesh, and partly because I like touching myself. Watching my reflection, I run my fingers over my body; watching as my nipples respond and adding to the response when I run my fingertips round and round my areola.
A soft moan enters my consciousness. I smile at the mirror, wondering if it came from me or from someone behind that door. My fingers pinch and tug my nipples as I listen, this time the sigh was definitely from my lips. Another time or place, I might be satisfied to play here, to please myself and luxuriate in the narcissistic pleasure of bringing myself to climax. But not tonight, I'm expected; late but still I am part of the plan.
Switching off the light, I walk down the hall and open the door. It opens silently on its own, the light and volume of the music growing as it swings wide open. Too busy to notice my entrance, I stand in the doorway and watch them; smiling inwardly at the progression of events stemming from earlier in the day.
I had been at work when the text messaging started.
"Drinks?"
"Yes, when?"
"7 usual."
"K but may be late."
"K."
I had not put my phone back when the next message arrived. This one from Mara, and almost a duplicate exchange as with my husband except for the ending "ok". Mara replying instead, "Don't be late, I need fucked."
Laughing, I messaged back, "Go ahead, Bobby needs fucked too." To which I followed, "And so do I." Then, unable to resist, I lifted up my skirt, snapped a picture of my panty-covered crotch and sent it on to her.
A minute later she responded with her own picture, her pussy uncovered and bare. Glancing around the office to make sure no one was close by, I was about to pull my panties aside to return the favor when another pic message arrived from her. This one accompanied with a short message, "Look what was just sent to me;" the picture of a very hard cock sticking out of my husband's pants.
My project meeting running late, just after 7:30, I slipped out into the hall to call them. Barely able to hear over the background noise of the bar, I couldn't tell if Bobby was disappointed by my delay or unconcerned. My guess being his being unconcerned, as Mara was on time and keeping him company. At 8:00 my phone vibrated and I snuck a quick peek at the message, "Stepping out, call when free."
Just as the meeting was about to collapse into total anarchy, my manager called it a night and I grabbed my belongings when the phone buzzed again. Just a picture this time, taken in the back seat of a car, my hubby's cock again but now squeezed in Mara's hand.
Sitting inside my car, I called Mara's phone. Bobby answered, no doubt only as he knew it would be me.