by Alex Grayson
It’s pandemonium in my chest at the scene before me. My gorgeous, incredible wife in nothing but fuck me shoes, a sexy ass black thong, and a blindfold. Jesus Christ after twelve years she still makes my mouth water and my dick hard. It takes all my willpower not to approach her and screw her brains out, but that’s not why I’m here.
Well, not exactly.
Evan leans against the wall by the bathroom waiting for the next play. I’m finding it hard to do anything except pant after my naked wife. Her hand inching toward the blindfold settles the decision for me. I need to keep this act going before she loses her nerve.
“I said don’t move.” I reiterate my command as I move closer to the bed. “Put your hands back where they were.”
“Otto—” she starts.
“Now!” I bark and pick up a silky green scarf from the tray. I trail the material over her chest and loop the other end around the back of her neck. I pull both ends, bringing her naked body flush to my own. She lets out a little gasp.
“I think you need a little help following commands. Hold out your hands.”
She does so without hesitation, holding both in the space between us. I turn her wrists so the insides are touching and wind the scarf around them. I drop my lips to her shoulder, gently tasting her as I work. Once secure, I slip my finger beneath the material to check for tightness.
“You smell like him,” I grunt. She teeters in her heels, but I’m there to catch her around her waist.
“Now we’re ready. Up you go.” I give her a little toss onto the bed. She bounces on her butt and lands on her back across the middle. The king-sized mattress gives us plenty of room to move around. All three of us.
With a jerk of my head, I motion Evan over. I’m thankful for the heavy padding in the rug that silences his footsteps. I stand next to the side of the bed and trail my hands up and down her outer thighs, simply teasing my wife.
“You won’t be needing these.” As Evan nears, I start dragging her panties down as a distraction. It works beautifully. Her breathing picks up, and I can tell her attention is on what I’m doing. I want to keep her guessing. “Put your hands above your head and keep them there. Don’t move, Ally.”
“Okay.” She nods.
I start to unbutton my own shirt when Evan pushes my hands away and takes over. I have to clench my jaw while I allow him to undress me. Never in a million years did I think another man would take my shirt off unless I was already dead or dying. But I’d do anything for my wife. Anything. She might not be able to see what’s happening, however, I know what she wants and I’m here to deliver.
The brush of his knuckles against my chest is sensual, and it’s this exact moment that I realize this part is for me. She can’t see this. She doesn’t even know Evan’s near us. I’m allowing a man to undress me and might even be enjoying it. Before I can decide, it’s over all too soon and he drags my shirt from my shoulders and drops it casually on the floor. He leans forward, presses a quick kiss to my collar bone, and drops to his knees beside me.
Well played, Evan.
With a quirk of my brow, I turn my attention back to Ally. I grab her ankles and open her to Evan and me, planting each of her heels on the edge of the bed.
“Slide your ass down to the edge.”
She complies immediately, scooting until she’s spread wide and accessible.
“God, that’s perfect,” I praise. “Now tell me.” I run my finger to her slit and rest it against her clitoris. I can tell she’s holding her breath. “Should Evan eat your pussy, or should I?”
“Y-you!” Ally gasps. “Please.” Her hips strain off the bed. I know from experience that the light pressure of my finger is driving her crazy.
Evan reaches out and lifts her right leg off the bed. “I want to be able to watch.”
Dropping to my knees beside Evan, I tilt my head to give him an unobstructed view of me eating out my wife. I dive in between her milky thighs like I have a hundred times before, tonguing and sucking on her clit. I could spend hours feasting on her, but I have to remember tonight isn’t just about me. It’s about Ally. With that in mind, I reach out blindly until I find Evan’s hand holding up Ally’s thigh. I help him situate her leg until it’s resting on his shoulder and I yank his hand until his fingers touch her slit.
“Finger my wife, Evan. Make her come.”
“Fuck yeah,” he groans. Ally squeals in pleasure as he inserts one thick digit. Blood surges to my dick as I watch his middle finger disappear inside of my wife. Her hips undulate in response. She lifts her head and gazes down between her spread legs at the two of us, on our knees for her. Her breasts sway with the movement of us touching her and her panting increases.
“Give her another one,” I instruct Evan. Without pause, he complies. I lift her other thigh over my head, spreading her wide with both her knees near her face.
“She’s close,” I tell Evan when I lean down to nip her thigh near the crease. “Can you feel her tightening around you?”
“Yeah,” he moans. “She’s squeezing the fuck out of my fingers.”
“Does he feel good, baby?” I ask my wife, but I already know her tells. Her toes flex repeatedly and her head thrashes on the bed.
“Please, I need to come,” she whimpers.
I nearly growl as I dive back in. Evan’s fingers work at a steady pace. I can hear exactly how wet she is for us and that fuels my need to pleasure her. I attack her clit, alternately grazing my teeth and sucking until she begins bucking into my mouth. I flatten my tongue and give one, long swipe. Her body freezes for half a second before she comes. Evan withdraws his fingers, and we both sit back on our heels to watch her scream in pleasure.
“Fuck Ally,” Evan groans. “That was magnificent. You’ve got me so damn hard.”
“She can help with that.” I stand and unbuckle my belt. “Can’t you, baby? You want to show Evan how good you are with that sweet mouth?”
Evan follows suit and removes his pants.
“Can I? I’ve been thinking about it all night,” Ally murmurs shyly. With the blindfold still on, she doesn’t know where to look. The coy tilt to her head and flushed naked body are goddamn picture perfect.
Evan and I each take one of her arms and pull her to sitting on the edge of the bed. I guide her hand to Evan’s hip and he does the same with her other one.
“Take my cock out, Ally,” he instructs gruffly.
She slides the elastic of the boxer briefs down his hips with her bound hands. I find I’m filled with anticipation when the material gets caught on his thick, hard dick. I want to see, and the realization is startling and arousing at the same time.
I remove my boxer briefs and give my own erection a few pumps watching the show. Evan springs out and she catches him easily. Her hand looks so petite holding his big dick. She must think so, too, because she uses her other hand to stroke him as well.
I’m watching my wife jack off another man, and I’m painfully hard.
Evan moans and thrusts his hips at my wife. She starts to lean forward, but I have a better idea. I step forward and place a hand on each of their shoulders. I can’t help it if my fingers caress them both, can I?
“Evan, get on the bed. On your knees facing me. Ally, climb up on all fours.”
The glare Evan gives his both erotic and scorching. I can tell he doesn’t like taking orders. Too bad he doesn’t run this show. He must not mind too much because he does as I say. I help guide Ally into position until she’s on all fours facing his cock.
“Suck him, Ally. I want to watch my wife suck another man’s cock. And while you do, I’m going to fuck you nice and slow until I’m ready to come.”
Evan looks me in the eyes as he reaches out and strokes the back of my wife’s head. “Open your mouth and show me what you’ve got,” he teases her.
I want to watch her wrap her pouty lips around him. I want to see her face as he fills the back of her throat so deep she gags. I want to hear the sounds of her wet mout
h sliding along him.
But I want to watch him more.
The moment she pulls him into her mouth is etched all over his face. His eyes close and he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose.
I take my dick in hand and run it along her wet slit.
“How does she feel?” I ask him while I tease her.
He looks at me with blazing blue eyes. “She feels like heaven, man. Whatever you just did, she really liked it.”
“She’s really going to like this,” I murmur, taking my cock in hand and guiding it inside my wife. Even after twelve years it still feels like coming home every time I slide into her warm, wet, heat. Her inner walls contract against my cock and she bucks against me. I can tell she’s trying to increase my tempo, but I said I was going slow. I meant it.
I already know I’m not going to last long. The night has been an agonizing build up from the moment we arrived. And watching my wife with another man set my need ablaze in a way I never imagined it would. This damn foreplay has me near coming out of my skin.
“Otto,” Ally moans, continuing to jack Evan’s cock while she speaks. “Please give me more, honey. Faster.”
I dig my fingertips into the fleshy part of her hips. “I’ll make a deal with you. The faster you go with him, the faster I go with you.”
She resumes sucking him, and I can tell she’s taking my deal seriously by the increasing whimpers and moans from them both. Her body rocks faster against me. I pull back and slam into her, harder. She cries out sharply before taking him deep into the back of her throat.
“Keep going. Fuck. I’m almost there,” Evan groans his praise while pressing his palm onto the back of her head.
“Don’t stop, Ally. You get to come again after you take him there.” I reach around her hip with my left hand and roll my finger over her clit. She bucks forcefully in response and buries her face against Evan.
“Just like that. Use your tongue,” he grunts. “Fuck, I’m coming.” His hips piston twice before dumping his load down her throat.
I lose control and slam into my wife, over and over again. I circle her clit and just as her walls clamp around my cock, I trap it between my index and middle finger. “Do like him watching you get fucked? Show him. Come hard for the both of us.”
Ally moans incoherently as her pussy clamps down on my cock. Her muscles pulsate and milk my own orgasm out of me before I have a chance to slow it down. I spasm deep inside of her while she buries her face into the mattress and cries her own release.
“Fuck,” I mumble, exhausted and sated in a new way. Evan watches the two of us and Ally collapses face first into the bed. She stretches languidly before lying unmoving, seemingly sated herself. I chuckle at the image of my thoroughly fucked wife and sit back on my calves.
“I want a taste.”
I lock eyes with Evan, who spoke those darkly seductive words. Before I can question or move, he launches forward across the bed.
“Fuck! Oh—” Holy shit.
“What’s happening?” Ally asks sleepily from her prone position.
“He’s—ah—God. He’s sucking my cock, Ally.”
Evan tightens his grip around my dick and sucks me deeper into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip. I was only semi hard after fucking my wife, but now I have a full-blown erection and already feel like I could come.
He powers up and down like a pro, taking me to the back of his throat. I can’t help it. I can’t stop what’s about to happen, and I don’t want to. I grab the back of his head, holding him still while I fuck his face. I groan incoherently and after three more pumps, I blow thickly down his throat.
He expertly cleans me with his tongue and pulls back with an audible pop. With one last scorching look and a brush of his finger down my check, Evan stands and begins to dress. I follow suit.
“That was…” I shake my head, completely lost for words.
He buckles his pants and pulls on his shirt. “Incredible. You know where to find me if you want to play again.”
I give him a nod and finish dressing myself. He retrieves his suit jacket and stops by the door.
“Bye, Ally.”
“Thank you, Evan,” she replies dreamily.
And then he’s gone.
5
Otto
I approach our bed where Ally’s huddled beneath the blankets, a sweet smile on her face. Stripping to my underwear, I slip beneath the covers and pull her into my arms. I settle her head on my chest and rest mine atop hers.
We pulled it off.
The weeks of planning. The ground rules. Our hard limits. Ally approached me on our anniversary and held an open conversation about what she wanted, what she thought I needed. How could I say no? I love my wife. I trust her. But more importantly, she trusts me to give her what she needs. She gave me time to reflect on her request, and I knew this was something I wanted, too.
One night to explore something new. Together.
The bittersweet feeling is hard to shake. We both got what we wanted out of tonight and enjoyed the hell out of it.
But it was only supposed to be one night.
If I know my wife as well as I think I do after twelve years together, well let’s just say, we might put our membership to use again. And Evan, too.
About A.M
A. M. Wilson loves infusing her stories with real life - the good, the bad, and the steamy parts. She thinks there's something special about romance; that pivotal moment when two characters realize their love for each other, but she likes wading through a little angst to get there. When she isn't furiously typing on her computer, she can be found searching for her next all-consuming read. A. M. lives in Minnesota with her husband, two children, and black lab.
Visit her at www.amwilson.net
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The Almost Perfect One Night Stand
Anna Bishop Barker
Logan Pressley is not lonely.
He also doesn’t troll women in bars, and he absolutely does not stick his tongue down their throats on dance floors.
Maggie Robertson is content.
She doesn’t dance with strangers, and she definitely does not take strange men home with her.
But when irresistible forces meet immoveable objects, rules get broken.
1
Before
“Smell that, Mags? That is the smell of PBR and freshly showered man dick right there.”
Artificially cool air hit her in the face, and it felt like heaven against the sultry, humid heat of late August in Florida. The low murmur of indistinct music that could be heard in the parking lot blasted out with the air-conditioned breeze. Dierks Bentley was getting drunk on a plane and wanted everyone to know about it. At least it was going to be cool inside and if you had to listen to country, Dierks Bentley was decent country. Maybe she could survive this trip into hook-up hell.
She had to stop short when she ran into the woman who was leading the way. Kate held the heavy wooden door open and the coolness and sound intensified. It was joined by the smell of beer and perfume and aftershave. Maggie took a step back as the other woman turned and brought her face close, yelling above the din.
“Prepare to see more camel toe and starched jeans than you ever saw back in Tennessee, babycakes!”
Maggie turned and reciprocated a near-yell. “Tell me why we are here again?”
Kate didn’t miss a beat. “Because I’m horny for some country boy ass, and your hoo-ha is so decrepit bats are starting to fly out of it.” That was Kate - subtle and about as ladylike as a sumo wrestler.
She took a deep breath and prepared to enter the bar. She might as well do this so that Kate could get her fix, Maggie could go back to the hotel, and everyone would be happy. She had a crucial meeting on Monday, and she needed to make sure that she was ready. The last place that she wanted to be was at a country and western bar on the outskirts of Ocala, Florida two days before the most important interview of her life.
Maggie r
olled her eyes, but the action was lost on her companion. Kate grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her into a wide entryway. They stopped again, she dropped Maggie’s arm, put her hands on her hips, and looked around speculatively.
“As Maverick would say, Goose, this is a target-rich environment.” Kate’s voice didn’t lose any of its volume. “Shall we break into song?”
Maggie pinched the inside of Kate’s upper arm like she used to do in church with Mark. “Don’t you even think it.” She hissed.
There was a lull as Dierks woke up in the airport, and Kate’s voice rang in the entryway. Several heads turned and several male faces grinned. Kate had that effect. There were more than likely several not-so-friendly looks sent their way from the female occupants. Unfortunately, Kate tended to have that effect as well.
Maggie looked around. If it was empty, the room would be cavernous. The ceiling was towering, with exposed pipes and beams, neon signs hanging everywhere. The entire back half of the building was taken up with a bandstand, a dance floor that was close to the size of a basketball court, and a roped-off area with, of all things, a mechanical bull. A curved wooden bar with ladder back stools ran the length of one wall to the dance floor, the wall behind it covered with mirrors and shelves of bottles. High top tables with more stools dotted the remainder of the floor. A vintage jukebox that to Maggie's antique-loving eye must have been worth a small fortune was against the front wall next to the double wood entry doors.
She thought back to Tennessee and the bars that littered every town, large and small. Outside of Nashville, none of them looked like this. She followed Kate, who headed to one of the few empty tables in an alcove close to the dance floor. They hadn’t even settled on the high-backed stools before a waitress was there. She plopped a bowl of popcorn on the table, took their drink orders without writing anything down, and turned toward the bar.
