Kinky Sex Makes the World Go ’Round

Chapter One

 

“I think I want to get back together with Pete,” Karissa said to me across the table of the coffee shop where we had out clandestine meetings. This was one of our usual lunchtime dates.

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Umm…you were the one who left him,” I pointed out. “Does he want to get back together with you?”

“I don’t know.” She couldn’t meet my gaze and instead focused on swirling the plastic stir stick around her cup.

“Why do you want to get back together with him?” I asked, curious as to why my friend of twenty years was making this sudden change in her life. It would be the second big change in her life over the past year. “It’s been a year since you two split. Have you even started the divorce process?”

She shrugged, still not meeting my eyes, and said, “I’m done sewing my wild oats.”

“You’re supposed to do that when you’re in your twenties, not your forties.”

A small smile brightened her face. She shyly glanced up at me. “Mid-life crisis?” she suggested under her dark brown bangs.

There were times I was jealous of Karissa and her incredible good looks. She took care of herself with her hair appointments, her makeup, her clothes, and, most importantly, her body. She had always been a runner and gone to the gym three times a week, unlike me and my too large ass, but that had gotten her in trouble when she decided to fuck her personal trainer a year ago. That’s when everything fell apart in her life. She left Pete. She was ostracized by her family and most of her friends. I think I was the only one to really speak to her any longer.

“Is that what women do when they have a mid-life crisis? Have an affair?” My question was unkind, but it cut to the point. “Most men are happy to change careers and buy a sports car.”

“Yeah, well, after being married twenty years to a man who only wanted to have missionary position sex once a week…I got bored!”

This was a new revelation for me and I sat back in surprise. “What?” I thought she had left Pete because he was ten years her senior and dull and had no outside interests other than his job, being a dentist. It provided them a good living, but she claimed to have wanted more out of life.

I didn’t know more meant better sex.

I should have.

“I didn’t realize he was so…boring,” I said cautiously.

“Vanilla. The term is vanilla,” she said bitterly. “He liked sex well enough, but his way and at his frequency. Yeah, our lives were dull, but I could have lived with that if he had been…if our bedroom lives were more interesting.”

“How interesting?” I pressed her, curious.

She met my gaze. “You know that Duncan basically moved into my apartment, right?”

“Yes.”

She tried to suppress it, but a smile pulled at her lips. “Having a boyfriend ten years younger made me ten years younger,” she said.

“Good sex?” I asked mildly.

She leaned in. “The best. He made me cum like never before,” she confided. “A million times better than Pete.”

“Then why go back to him?” I asked.

Karissa collapsed back into her chair. “There are other things to life than sex.” After sipping her coffee she spoke again. “Can you help me get back with Pete?”

“Me?” I didn’t have to feign surprise. I was surprised.

“Yes. You. Reg and Pete are still friends, aren’t they?”

I pouted a bit. “You’re just using my friendship with you to get back with you husband because I’m married to Reg?”

She sighed. “Don’t put it like that. Besides, I’ve talked to Pete a few times recently. I know he’s not thrilled with his life right now. Maybe he’ll be amenable to a reunion?”

“Are you certain he’s unhappy and that he’ll take you back?”

“I know he’s unhappy,” she said confidently. “And I’m counting on you to help me convince him to take me back.”

 

 

Chapter Two

 

I had been a shitty friend to Karissa for the past year even if I had been one of the few not to completely abandon her after she moved out of her house she shared with Pete. Their only child was away at college and maybe she was experiencing empty nest syndrome. I pondered if I should help Karissa get back with her husband along with how as I went to my first afternoon appointment. I used to work in a large practice, but I found myself happier when I left the group to work by myself. All I needed was a small office space and once I hung my PhD on the wall to impress my patients I was in business. Being a therapist in private practice has lots of advantages.

My one o’clock appointment was on time, as always, and I had barely opened the door before he was barging in, pressing me up against the wall, kissing me urgently. Without giving it a thought I reached between his legs and found his cock was already hard. That I expected; he was always that way upon walking in.

We stumbled back to the traditional psychoanalyst’s couch as we kissed and groped at each other, shedding our clothes. The couch was black leather and very expensive but had been worth it as both a conversation piece for patients who wanted traditional treatment and as a firm surface on which to carry my affair. It was better than the pair of armchairs or the couch most of my patients used during our sessions.

He got naked first because he was always so eager. My hand stroked his length, which wasn’t impressive, but my fingers could barely curl all the way around his girth, which was more than impressive. I wanted to suck his cock, just a little. To do so I’d have to open up my jaws as wide as possible so I could taste the little bit of precum dribbling out, but Pete didn’t want that. He yanked my dress up over my head and scrabbled at my panties, trying unsuccessfully to get me naked. I had to help him. For the moment we left on my bra because we could fuck with that still on. He pressed me back onto my analyst’s couch, spread my legs, and mounted me. I was so excited at our weekly meeting that my pussy was over-lubricated and he sank into me without any difficultly. He didn’t sink very deeply; he couldn’t. But that didn’t matter because he stretched me wonderfully.

“Oh Pete,” I sighed as he started thrusting. His short, fat cock curled up inside me hitting my secret spot in just the right way.

“You’re a slutty lay, Lyd!” he grunted into my neck. “A beautiful, slutty lay with a tight pussy!”

I liked it when he talked dirty to me. I was glad he didn’t compare my too curvy body to his estranged wife’s athletic one.

Yes, I was a terrible person. I was fucking my best friend’s husband while they were separated.

I could take small comfort in the fact at least my husband knew.

We only fucked once a week, which doesn’t justify my—or his—actions at all, but Karissa had recently revealed why he and I only fucked once a week during our affair. For him sex was only needed once a week whether he was married—partnered—or not.

The sex was always good. Pete did it with such enthusiasm and vigor that I never had trouble cumming, sometimes three or four times, which was wonderful. We’d fuck. I’d cum. And cum. And maybe cum again. He’d cum, finishing inside of me, and then we’d get dressed, and he’d leave. It was perfect. He even allowed me to bill his insurance company for a therapy visit.

Unethical, I know, but I was hardly a woman of high morals.

All of this was done in an hour and I’d be ready for my two o’clock and Pete would be gone.

Today, as I fucked Pete, wrapping my thighs around his body, letting him do to me as he wanted, I considered what I would have to do to convince him to go back to his wife. Did I even want to do that? I wasn’t in love with him. It was just sex. Lusty, satisfying sex. If Pete went back to his wife my affair would be over and I’d be without a lover.

But then again…Reg wouldn’t mind if I found a new one. Would he?

A new lover with a different lovely cock, maybe not so thick, but surely it would find a way to make me cum better than my husband’s.

I wanted to be penetrated deeply and hard. I grabbed Pete’s ass and pulled him into me, making him cum along with me.

When Pete came it was always a huge load, probably, I now realized, because he was saving up all his cum for me, once a week. That was odd. What kind of single man didn’t jerk off at least once or twice a week?

“I think I left some on your couch,” he said as he pulled out of me and stood up.

I looked down between my legs and saw the small puddle his cum and my juices had made. “It’s fine,” I said getting up. “I have baby wipes in the cabinet. Leather cleans.”

It was a minor miracle my office didn’t constantly stink of sex. Surely the leather of the couch had absorbed enough of my and Pete’s bodily fluids to make it reek. I made sure to wipe it down after every session. I used a leather cleaner and sealant on it once a week as well. And on top of that I either had a scented candle burning or potpourri left out to hide the noisome evidence of my affair. Maybe I was obsessive, but I had appearances to keep up.

Pete used a baby wipe on his cock and got dressed while I cleaned the couch. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Next week?” he asked.

When would have been the right time to broach the subject of his wife? Before we fucked? After? During? Now?

“Yes. See you then.”

That was the wrong answer.

Once he was gone, I got dressed and waited for my two o’clock.

 

Chapter Three

 

By the time I got home I felt dirty, not because I had sat in the analyst’s chair all day, but because Pete’s cum had slowly been leaking out of me. My panties were a mess of dried cum but I didn’t got to the bathroom to clean myself up. A respectable woman would have.

I wasn’t a respectable woman.

Reg got home just a few minutes after me. He was always home on time on Wednesdays.

“Did you have your one o’clock appointment?” he asked as soon as he saw me in the kitchen. I had been considering what to make for dinner, but I didn’t get very far.

A smiled at him, but tried to suppress it. “Yes. Of course.”

In a flash my husband was on his knees in front of me, kneeling on the hardwood floor. It must have been hell on his knees, but he didn’t care. I knew he didn’t care. He pushed my dress up to my waist where I held it, my ass pressed up against the counter, as he pulled my panties down. He tore and ruined them in trying to get them completely off me, but tangled them in my shoes before ripping them. But that didn’t matter. Not in the heat of the moment.

I leaned back and spread my legs, letting him inspect my pussy. I’m sure it was swollen from Pete’s cock, dirty with his crusted cum on the outer lips, and the inner lips were still leaking my lover’s cum. Any other husband, upon discovering his wife was cheating on him, would have been disgusted and angry.

Reg wasn’t.

He was turned on.

I couldn’t see or feel his cock, but I knew it had to have been getting hard.

Or it should have been.

He pressed his face into my pussy, licking and tasting me…and the remains of my lover’s cum.

I didn’t fully understand it, but I loved Reg with all my heart so I allowed him this strange pleasure.

He was still virile and strong and pushed me up on the edge of the counter, forcing my feet off the floor, making me sit on the counter, but only just because he needed to get to my pussy. I gasped as his tongue laved it way around my clit and then plunged deeply up my tunnel. If there was one thing that Reg knew, it was how to eat pussy. Maybe he was balding and had weird sexual desires, but a Reg who knew his way around his wife’s pussy and I waited for the orgasm to wash over me.

When it did, I clamped my thighs around his head and clutched the cabinets to keep from falling off the edge of the counter.

“Good?” Reg asked me from his position on the floor.

“Always,” I told him. “Take me to bed and do this the right way,” I told him. “Fuck me.”

An eager look appeared on his face. He gathered me up in his arms and literally carried me to the bedroom. It was a good thing our bedroom was on the ground floor. I doubt he could have carried my fat ass up the stairs, even as strong as he still was.

Throwing me on the bed, Reg was on me in an instant, again pushing his face between my legs and going after my pussy. I loved it, but I wanted more.

“Fuck me,” I begged. “Fuck me.”

“When you’re ready,” he told me. My pussy was already soaked with my juices and his saliva and a little bit of Pete left behind as well. I let him make me cum again. Not that I minded. If I came, he’d maybe be satisfied enough for the next step.

“Fuck me,” I pleaded again.

He rolled off me and went to the little box we kept just underneath the bed. I wanted to groan in annoyance but I knew that would just piss him off. The vibrator he selected was one of the bigger ones we had. It wasn’t as thick as Pete and it wasn’t as long as he was, but it was a nice intersection of the two men. He turned it on, laid down next to me, still fully clothed and me naked from the waist down, and slipped it between my eager lips.

I clutched the bedcovers and spread my legs wide, giving him all the access he needed. Reg knew my body and what I liked and was shortly pumping it in and out of me. When I came, I came hard, gushing a little bit on Reg’s hand. I always came like that when we had Wednesday night sex. Wednesday night sex was the best sex.

There was no way I could tell anyone about all the weird sex I had in my life. Reg knew the most of anyone. But he didn’t know everything.

“Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?” I asked him as he turned off the vibrator and set it aside.

“No. I’m good.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” I knew he wasn’t good, as he put it, but he had his own kinks.

“I know. But I want to.” He levered himself out of bed and stood up. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Cock, because you’ve already had pussy,” I said.

He smirked at me. “Funny. Spaghetti with sausage it is.”

My husband wasn’t a great cook, but he could cook, so that was another bonus in his column.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, following him out of bed.

Reg took my hands and shook his head. “No. No shower. Not yet.”

“I’m dirty,” I told him. Literally and figuratively, but he already knew that. I didn’t need to specify any further.

“I like you this way.”

“Do you want to smell Pete on me?” I asked. It was a useless question. I already knew the answer.

“Yes. Come downstairs and keep me company as I cook.”

I let him work in the kitchen. I picked up the tattered remains of my underwear and threw them in the trash. One of the expenses of being a slutty wife was having a serious budget for lingerie, especially panties.

As we ate dinner, I dropped the bomb on Reg. “Karissa wants to get back with Pete.”

“What?! You’re kidding!”

“Nope. And she wants me to help.”

He put down his fork. “What are you going to do?”

“I honestly do not know.”

“You should break it off with him and encourage him to go back to her,” Reg said.

Flatly, that surprised me. It would mean that my weekly fuck sessions with Pete would stop and I’d need to find another lover to satisfy both my and my husband’s needs.

“Yeah, okay, but…should I tell her I’ve been fucking him?”

“Nope,” he said definitively.

“But I should be honest with my friend…”

“You were fucking her husband while they were separated. That makes him fair game,” Reg said.

I squinted at him. At this point in my life I only needed reading glasses but I knew that was eventually bound to change to full time glasses. If I wasn’t wearing them I missed some details of expressions. “You just want me to find a new boyfriend.”

Reg feigned innocence. “Why would I want that?”

“Because you want to watch me fuck another man.” I reached under the table with my toe and pressed it against his groin. It was hard as always. “It’s just another unfulfilled fantasy of yours.”

 

One of the reasons I wanted my husband to fuck me, besides the fact that he does it so infrequently, was because he rarely made me cum.

Let me clarify: he rarely made me cum with his cock. With a vibrator? Always. With his fingers? Sure. With his lips and mouth? Oh, definitely. With his cock? Meh. Only if I was already keyed up like I was on Wednesdays after being fucked by Pete’s thick tool.

Reg knew I cheated on him. Well, it wasn’t exactly cheating. He had encouraged me to fuck other men because he had a kink for that. The first time he had proposed I screw another man, I had laughed in his face because I thought he was kidding.

I had crushed him because he was serious and we were having a serious discussion about our sex life lagging because we were getting older and needed to breath fresh life into it. The kids were off to college and there wasn’t anything holding us back from truly having fun…except our own hang-ups.

He said he wanted me to have sex with other men and wanted to watch. I laughed and then apologized when I realized he wasn’t kidding around. That led to a frightening conversation about how he fantasized about having the sexiest wife in town. The sexiest hotwife in town. He was giving me permission to have sex with other men…and I failed to confess that I had already had a couple of short-term affairs of my own.

That would have been the perfect time to admit it, but I was a coward.

But once we were past Reg’s initial confession, he followed up with another that made my head spin and suddenly I realized I was in the driver’s seat of our relationship and I liked it.

That’s why he now wore a metal chastity cage on his cock almost all the time. He wanted me to be in charge of our sex life…and more importantly he wanted me to be in charge of his cock.

I have to admit, I went back and forth on the issue. It was exciting for him to give me that power, but it was off-putting at the same time because I was essentially emasculating him. He assured me I wasn’t.

After a few weeks of both of us being denied traditional penis in vagina sex, I was more than willing to have my first husband-approved extracurricular sexual encounter with a guy I found on a hookup app.

He was younger and very handsome. We met at a hotel. I was horny and eager and we didn’t even bother pretending it was a romantic date. It was just sex and it was terrific and I came home with my pussy full of a stranger’s cum and Reg was thrilled. From there it was easy. I met Don every few weeks for sex…and then Karissa and Pete broke up.

 

Reg shifted in his chair, trying to get away from my probing toe. All I could feel was the hardness of his cage, but if I went lower, I’d be able to abuse his exposed balls.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked me again.

I sighed and withdrew my toes. “I’ll have to do the honorable thing.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

As far as Pete knew, Reg knew nothing of our affair, such as it was. That was by mutual agreement between, first, me and Reg and then me and Pete. My husband didn’t want his best friend to know that he knew Pete was fucking me, Reg’s wife. I think they both got off on the secret nature of the affair. Men are strange creatures.

I couldn’t divulge the details my affair with Pete to Karissa. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I had to meet with her again and I invited myself over to her apartment where she had been living for the better part of a year. Girls night in, I called it.

While the place wasn’t exactly squalid, it wasn’t the nice house she had shared with Pete. That alone was almost enough to convince me to drop my affair with Pete so she could go home.

“This is…nice,” I said.

“Urgh.” Karissa rolled her eyes. “My college apartment was nicer than here.”

“Well, we are on the edge of the student slums,” I pointed out to her. Undoubtedly she already knew that. The university was in a decent section of downtown, but the residential area where a lot of student lived was sketchy in parts. Not terrible, but sketchy.

She poured me a glass of wine. A large glass of wine and we settled in for a discussion.

“I think I can help you and Pete out,” I said. “But I’m no miracle worker. It’s up to him whether he takes you back or not.”

“Can Reg help too?” she asked eagerly.

“Probably…”

“I think Pete has been having an affair,” she blurted. “He’s too happy.”

“What?”

“He gets really antsy when he doesn’t get his weekly fuck,” she said. “When I’ve talked to him over the past couple of weeks, he’s fine very…sanguine.”

I knew she’d been talking with him, but how extensively? Obviously my name hadn’t come up as his lover, but still… “You can tell that from just a few conversations? Maybe he’s been jerking off instead.”

Karissa shook her head. “No. A wife knows.”

“Are you angry at him for having a…girlfriend? Can we call her a girlfriend?”

“Better a girlfriend than a prostitute,” she said with mild disgust. “Or a different hookup every week.”

“You’re being very judgy for a woman who left her husband for a younger man,” I unhelpfully pointed out.

At this point she had downed most of her wine. She finished the glass. “If you could see Duncan’s cock…” she said dreamily.

“Can I?” I asked a little more eagerly than I intended.

She laughed at me. “No!”

“He’s never sent you a dick pic?” I asked.

Her face flushed bright red. “No.” Her lie was obvious. It would have been obvious even if I wasn’t an accomplished psychotherapist.

“You’re lying,” I accused her. “Show me! It’s on your phone right?”

Her phone was sitting on the counter in front of us and I grabbed it. The gesture was a waste of time because it was locked and I had no idea what the passcode was.

As I fumbled with it, Karissa snatched it back from me. “You’re going to drop and break it!” she giggled at me.

“I won’t,” I protested and tugged back for a second before relinquishing it to her. Letting go, I said to her, “You wouldn’t have fought me for the phone if you didn’t have his dick pics on it.”

Her face remained flush and she tapped silently at the screen for a minute, angling the phone so I couldn’t see it. Finally she said, “You asked,” and turned it around for me to see.

What I saw was a rather impressive cock, not fully flaccid but not erect either. It was a close up and showed he was circumcised and shaved all his pubic hair. “Pfft. That could be any man’s cock. You could have just downloaded it now.”

Silently, but bravely and proudly, she flicked the picture aside and showed me a full body shot of him naked. I forced myself not to lick my lips. He was handsome, incredibly fit, hairless from chest to crotch, and this time his cock was fully erect. It wasn’t huge, but it looked like it would fit any woman’s pussy perfectly.

I wanted to know how well it would fit mine.

“Okay, but still…” I said.

She flicked the screen again to show the two of them in bed together. This shot revealed revealing but it was pretty obvious they were naked and she was taking a selfie while he kissed her on the cheek.

“Fine,” I agreed.

She put the phone down on the countertop. I didn’t see her flick the screen. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was on purpose. A new photo came up. Duncan wasn’t in it, just Karissa. I recognized her face, which appeared to be in the middle of ecstasy, but what was new were her naked breasts, which I had never seen before. She was straddling a man’s body, presumably Duncan’s, and just enough of their crotches showed for me to see him inside of her. We both stared at the picture for a long moment. It was taken from his perspective and her hands were planted on his chest, her breasts dangling down toward the viewer.

My best friend was beautiful, especially in the middle of fucking, and I was jealous of her, both of her body and of her boyfriend who looked like a great fuck.

“Oops,” she said belatedly, covering up the screen and grabbing the phone. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I let it go and tried not to think about the dampness in my panties.

“He’s hot,” I said.

“I know,” she agreed. “I’m not sure I can give up Duncan’s cock…even if he’s a dumb as a fence post.”      

“So you want to go back to your husband…but still fuck your boyfriend.”

“In a perfect world…”

“Could Pete still have his girlfriend?” I asked, going back into best friend/psychotherapist mode.

“No,” she said firmly. “Not that it matters. I’d be happy to fuck him once a week. That’s all he needs. And I could have my piece on the side.”

“That’s hardly fair,” I pointed out.

“What marriage is,” she countered.

“Would you tell him you were still fucking Duncan?”

“No.”

I shook my head. “An unfair marriage, where everything isn’t perfectly equal…that’s one thing, but to lie to your husband about an affair? I can’t condone that.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m thinking one last fuck with Duncan and then I go back to Pete.”

“You’ve already planned this out?”

Karissa refilled her wineglass. “Yeah…”

“And I’m just a sounding board?”

“Yeah…” she said with a goofy smile before she sipped thirstily from her glass.

“When are you going to fuck him for the last time?”

“I don’t know yet. It’ll have to be soon otherwise…otherwise I’ll change my mind.”

I finished my wine and emptied the last of the bottle into my glass. It only filled halfway. “Set a date now,” I encouraged her. “Text him right now and tell him you want to fuck him.” I purposely didn’t add “one last time.” Or maybe I was a little too tipsy from the wine.

Willingly my unfaithful best friend did exactly that, speaking the words as she tapped out the text. “I’m…horny. We…need...to...fuck. Send.” Her phone made the text sent noise and she laughed at the situation. “Having a boyfriend is fun,” she confided in me.

And then I was truly jealous. Fucking Pete was just sex on the side. Maybe a boyfriend, in addition to a husband, would be a lot of fun.

“I didn’t realize you were such a slut,” I said with a smile.

“You have no idea.”

Before she could say anything more, her phone chimed with a reply text.

I grabbed it from the counter before she could. My eyes went wide. “Me too. I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

We looked each other in the eyes and burst out laughing.

“I just helped you get laid for tonight,” I pointed out.

“You’d better leave,” she said.

I shook my head. “Not until he is here. I need to make sure you get your last fuck with him.” That made me realize something. “Does he know you want to go back to Pete?”

Karissa made a face. “Yes. He knew this was nothing more than a fling. He’s personal trainer. I knew I’m not the only woman he’s been fucking.”

“Oh.”

Both of our expressions dropped.

“That’s…sad,” I said.

“It wasn’t going to last. Like I said. He’s as dumb as a box of rocks.”

I nodded and sipped my wine.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” she suggested. “He’ll be here soon. He doesn’t live far away.”

“I’m going to make sure you get your last fuck and then I’ll leave.”

She snickered. “You just want to meet my boyfriend and see his cock.”

“Maybe…”

We both giggled and finished our wine while waiting on him. I didn’t have a plan. I was just waiting to see what was going to happen.

And I did want to meet Duncan.

And I did want to see his cock.

The doorbell startled both of us, but I, being slightly less drunk, got out of my chair first and flung open the door. I was behaving like a drunken college slut. I liked it.

“You must be Duncan,” I said, throwing myself dramatically against the door after opening it.

He was tall, handsome, and everything his picture promised.

“Yeah. That’s me. Duncan. You’re not Karissa.”

We stared at each other for a second before Karissa called out, “Let him in!”

I stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. “She’s waiting for you. She’s very drunk and very horny.” I giggled.

“Hey!” Karissa called from the table where we had been drinking.

“Who are you?” he asked me bluntly.

“I’m Lydia,” I said with an eager smile. He was incredibly handsome. Since he was wearing short sleeves I got a good look at his forearms. Muscular without being bulky. They were perfect. Some women like strong shoulders or a tight ass on a man. My secret weakness was strong forearms. I don’t know why.

“She’s my slutty friend,” Karissa said as she joined us in the tiny entry hall and dragged her boyfriend into the living room that abutted the kitchen area.

That brightened up Duncan’s confused expression. “I thought I was coming over to have sex with you,” he said to Karissa.

“That’s right,” she said.

Just to tease both her and him I quickly interjected. “It was my idea. And you have fantastic forearms.” I reached out and traced my finger along one of the muscles. He had a very light covering of hair, but under that the skin was soft, and under that I could feel the hard muscle that was hidden from direct view, but clearly in evidence through his thin skin. “Very sexy forearms.”

He grinned at me. “You like them?” He flexed just a bit for me. “I’m not a bodybuilder. Those guys are too into their steroids. I like my dick the way it is.”

I glanced up at him. He was maybe a few inches taller than Reg. “Hard?” I asked.

He grinned and half-laughed. “Not shriveled up.”

In retrospect, I knew that steroids cause men’s balls to shrivel up, not their dicks. But that didn’t matter in the moment. I continued running my finger along Duncan’s forearm.

“Hey!” Karissa protested with a nervous giggle, breaking my concentration on Duncan’s taut muscles. “He came over for sex with me, Lyd.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t have sex with her as well,” Duncan said.

“Yeah it does.” Karissa wasn’t really angry, not yet, but she was suddenly uncertain about what was going on. “She’s married.”

“So are you,” I pointed out. It was the wine and the sex talk and everything. I needed to get laid right then and there.

“Separated.”

“What Reg doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” That was a double lie. While Reg wouldn’t be angry I had fucked another guy, he’d want to know all about it. All the details.

“Are you going to fuck my boyfriend right in front of me?” Karissa asked. She still wasn’t angry, but she was confused.

“If she wants,” Duncan said.

She should have slapped him and sent him on his way. She should have shoved me out the door. We all should have acted like adults. We didn’t. We were thinking with our pussies and Duncan...well, he didn’t have anything really worth thinking with.

It was Duncan who broke the silence that ensued. “It’s been a while since I fucked two women at the same time.” He nodded knowingly. The only things that Duncan knew were how to tell people to exercise and how to have sex.

I was willing to defer to his expertise in those areas.

Abruptly Karissa grabbed his jaw and pulled his face down to hers where she kissed him. I was only a foot away, watching them kiss. It was incredible intense. I was jealous and worked up at the same time. The moment they broke the kiss I grabbed Duncan away from her and kissed him.

His tongue probed my mouth and I could feel Karissa’s jealous eyes on me. I loved both the kiss and the jealousy.

Duncan grinned and nodded. “See?” he said. “Easy.”

Karissa and I eyed each other. I wondered if she was as nervous and jealous and eager and horny as I was.

What I should have done was go home and fuck my husband, leaving Karissa to fuck Duncan one last time. But I didn’t want to give up his incredible forearms and I needed to see his cock because I wanted it to be as perfect in person as it was in pictures.

I wasn’t leaving and Karissa wasn’t going to kick me out either.