The Accidental Sleepover: A Reverse Harem Novella ( The Accidental Hotwife Book 2)

by Sadie Somerton

  Anna still couldn’t work out what was going on in her own head, watching this, another woman with her husband. Couldn’t work out why she was feigning sleep, holding back and watching.

  But what she did know was just how aroused she was.

  She pushed against Harry again, and inadvertently let out a low, “Mmm.”

  He tensed, and she thought she’d betrayed herself, and then she realized what was happening – her grinding lazily against his hip, the touch of her body against his, and whatever it was that Martha was doing as she held him deep in her throat had taken him right to the brink, and now...

  No matter how hard he tried not to disturb her, she knew... He had just come. Had just filled Martha’s mouth with his juices, and now, as Martha continued to suck, he was softening in her mouth.

  Finally, Martha straightened, leaned back, stood.

  Anna pushed against Harry again, allowing her pelvis to roll as she ground her pussy against him.

  “Mmm,” she groaned again, and let the hand that had been resting on his chest drag down across his ribcage.

  He tensed again, and she wondered what was rushing through his head, so she leaned in to kiss him on the jaw.

  “Hey,” she murmured.

  “Hey.”

  She let her hand move lower, felt the muscles tremble in response as she dragged clawed fingers over his belly and down. Her fingertips pushed through that coarse hair until she found his dick, soft and wet from Martha’s mouth.

  “Mmm.”

  “I...”

  She kissed him again, before saying, “I know.”

  He froze, then turned his head, and she kissed him on the mouth, her hand still playing with his softly moldable dick, pulling and squeezing.

  She was so turned on.

  “I know,” she said again, and then reached for his hand, took it in hers and guided it down to where she desperately craved his touch.

  §

  Harry

  She knew.

  She’d been awake, and she knew.

  How much had she seen and heard?

  Had she been as surprised as him or had the two of them planned this together?

  For a moment he was angry that he’d been put in such a position, that his wife had allowed him to be so fearful for what harm he might be doing and yet powerless to resist, but then...

  She took his hand, squeezed it, and then drew it to her. For a moment, he was disappointed she’d stopped working on his semi-stiff dick. He wasn’t going to get fully hard again so soon, but that gentle rubbing when he was not quite hard was a wonderfully intimate pleasure she knew he loved.

  Then she pressed his hand against her and he felt how wet she was.

  “Oh, Harry,” she groaned, as he pressed, the joint at the base of his middle finger hard against her clit. “Oh...!”

  He held the pressure firm, let her push against him.

  “Harry... I think I...”

  But even before she could say aloud what she craved he was moving, taking his weight on his free arm so he could shuffle down the bed. Craning across her so that his mouth dragged downward, his stubble scraping down her belly, making her writhe against him.

  And as he moved, his hand that was on her pushed harder, the first two fingers curling up, pushing and parting so they could slide deep into her.

  She arched her spine, pushing against him, and he rolled onto his knees between her legs. His head moved lower, his lips dragging across the soft curve of her belly to a new curve, a different kind of softness, her mound, silky smooth save for a narrow strip of hair running down the center.

  He kissed her there, that smoothness. Pressed his mouth against her mound, that perfect mix of soft and firm.

  Started to pump his arm, drawing his fingers out of her and then pushing up against her again, two fingers sliding deep until the knuckles of his fist ground against her pussy, making her writhe and groan again.

  His mouth found a parting of the flesh, where the hood covering her clit met her labia, dividing to leave a groove for his tongue to push into. She tasted salty and sharp with the intensity of her arousal, and his fist slid against his chin and against his tongue where it pressed into her folds.

  He paused briefly, and then as he eased his fist back again, he swept his tongue slowly forward, soft flesh parting to either side until the tip of his tongue flipped over the little hard stub of her clit and she cried aloud again.

  Now, as he pushed his fingers deep, his fist hard against her, he started to swirl his tongue, drawing a tight ‘o’ around her clit and occasionally sweeping right across it.

  Her fingers buried themselves deep in his hair, pulling so that it hurt but he didn’t care.

  He started to flick his tongue rapidly across her clit, over and over, knowing that this was pushing the limit of the kind of intensity she could handle, feeling her fingers tighten even more in his hair as she clamped his head against her, pushing herself against his mouth, his fist.

  She was close, he knew. And also, he knew that this was no time to hold back, no time to tease and delay and start all over again. This was the time to...

  He stopped flicking his tongue and instead pressed it firmly against her clit, his lips pressing and sliding against her pussy, felt her pushing back against him even harder, her hands steering both his head and herself to get that perfect pressure, that perfect contact, until...

  Her body heaved and he felt the muscles in her pussy quivering around his fingers, felt those muscles trembling against his face as orgasm swept over her.

  The intensity of her climax was obvious, and it lasted and lasted until slowly beginning to subside. He kept his mouth pressed against her and his fingers deep as she started to slump, felt her pushing back against him, even so, as if reluctant to stop, or maybe...

  She was peering down at him, her eyes wide, her eyebrows arched.

  She was still right on the edge, as the tailing off of that first orgasm transformed itself into the beginnings of the next.

  And... he was still semi-hard, still so incredibly aroused by all that had happened.

  He drew his head away, smiling, and she understood immediately, reaching for his arms, drawing him up her body until he was poised above her, his dick nuzzling against the folds of her pussy, hard enough for him to... push... to slip inside, aided by how damned wet she was.

  He pushed deep, until he ground hard against her, felt her squeezing him inside her.

  Her jaw sagged and she tipped her head back, climax taking her again. He felt her pussy pulsing, clenching around his dick, and now he was fully hard again, pushing deeper still, every sensation amplified, incredibly intense.

  His only thought had been to make her come again, when he’d realized it might happen. He hadn’t anticipated...

  He felt it building, that deep tightening within and then the abrupt release, and he thrust hard, coming inside her with such intensity it almost hurt.

  For a moment they froze, and then Anna sagged beneath him and his shoulders slumped, his spine, his entire body.

  Slowly, he drew back, out, swung a leg over hers to take his weight and then rolled free, onto his side beside her.

  She was watching him, her expression briefly unreadable.

  “I love you, Harry Novak,” she said.

  For a moment he said nothing, just gazed into her eyes, and then he said, simply, “I know,” and leaned in to kiss her again.

  §

  Anna

  She woke and memories of the night came flooding back.

  Martha’s kiss, and then... her touch. The sense of wonder at being so turned on by another woman, being touched in such an intimate way, and realizing how deeply she lusted for more of her friend’s touch, her body, wanted to feel her, explore her, taste her...

  How turned on she had been.

  Memories of lying there, feigning sleep, as Martha had turned her attentions to Harry, teasing him awake with her hand, working his dick from soft to hard. All tho
se little signals transmitted through the tensions in Harry’s body. The image of Martha smiling and then dipping her head, taking Harry into her mouth.

  Ask Anna a few weeks ago how she would react to seeing Harry being sucked off by another woman – even to the thought of it – and she would have answered very differently, would not even have been close to understanding just how intensely arousing it could be to break so many conventions.

  She still did not fully understand how she had reached this point from where she had been.

  Was it simply that Martha was a supremely skillful seductress?

  There was that, for sure, but there was more, too.

  There was the trust between them, the faith in Martha’s judgment in the heat of the moment. And the way Martha always seemed to be at least one step ahead, as if she’d read your mind, as if she somehow knew your most suppressed desires.

  And there was the sheer excitement that strikes when you transgress in this way. The thrill of the taboo, that feeling you open yourself to when those conventional barriers and assumptions start to fall away.

  She opened her eyes and Harry was propped on an elbow, studying her.

  Was his head filled with the same kind of thoughts? The shock at what had happened? The wonder at what had been revealed about himself, about her, about the two of them as a couple?

  Or was he filled with doubts? Feeling betrayed, led astray, let down.

  “I love you, Anna Novak,” he said.

  She let the moment draw itself out, their gazes locked, before she finally said, simply, “I know,” and stretched up to kiss him.

  When she drew away, she held his look.

  “I should have told you,” she said. “Warned you. At least hinted.”

  “You knew? You planned that with her?”

  She shook her head. She hadn’t known; not as such. Not in any kind of detail.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Martha knew you’ve got a thing for her.”

  Even as he opened his mouth to protest, she pushed a hand against his shoulder and gave him a look. “Don’t even deny it, mister,” she said. “I could tell even before you came in her throat last night.”

  Still, he started to say something, but then stopped, slumped. And finally smiled. “Hell yeah,” he said. “That was... unexpected.”

  She kissed him on the jaw.

  “We talked,” she said. “Me and Martha. I asked about her and Aaron – they live by different rules. I was curious.”

  “And you told her I wanted to fuck her.”

  “I didn’t know she would go ahead and do something like that!”

  He was smiling, teasing her even as he teased the story out of her. She glanced down to where the sheet bunched around his waist. “You seem to be enjoying the memory,” she said, an eyebrow raised. “I’m surprised, after last night...”

  She reached down and squeezed his stiff shaft, remembering how he’d still been growing hard again as he had pushed inside her, his dick still wet from Martha’s mouth.

  “You knew she’d do something though, didn’t you?”

  She squeezed harder and pulled, feeling the slide of skin over hard core, enjoying the roll of his eyes in response. She loved that moment when he just gave himself up to her touch – the tensing of his body, the roll of the eyes, the clenching and then sag of the jaw.

  Had she known? Yes, at some point she had. At some point she and Martha had passed from general conversation to specifics, to possibilities.

  “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” she told Harry. “I didn’t know she was going to sneak in here in the middle of the night, and that even before she started doing this–” another squeeze, another long, hard pull “–that she’d come round to my side of the bed and kiss me while you were still asleep.”

  The look on his face was comical. The sudden arching of the eyebrows, the opening of the mouth, the realization that something more had gone down last night even before he’d been aware.

  She went on. “I didn’t realize she’d slip her fingers into my wet cunt and take me right to the brink of orgasm before stopping, leaving me hanging while she did her thing with you... making me lie there while you had your fun, me horny as all hell, so horny I had to drag you onto me the moment she’d gone.”

  “I... You...” He really was lost for words.

  Anna pulled his dick toward her, forcing him to move until the wet head was sliding across her belly.

  “You mean... you and her...?”

  She nodded, gave a coy little smile, squeezed a little harder.

  “And... but what about Aaron? How’s he with all this? Does he even...?”

  Noises from just outside their bedroom interrupted them. Anna released her husband’s dick and it slapped down against his belly as she reached for the sheet and pulled it up to cover them both.

  Moments later, there was a gentle knock on the door.

  “You guys awake?” said Martha. “Are you decent?”

  Harry drew his knees up, tenting the sheet to cover his erection.

  “Sure,” said Anna. “Come on in.”

  Martha wore a long, silk robe, tied loosely at the waist. Just behind her, framed in the doorway, Aaron stood, wearing a dark blue robe made from a heavier fabric. “Morning, guys,” he said, raising a hand. Anna couldn’t read his expression, didn’t know just how much Martha would have told him, although she suspected her friend would have told him everything the moment she got back to their bed last night.

  Now, he smiled again, and said, “Sure was a wild night last night, wasn’t it?”

  His words were innocent enough – the storm had been rough, and even now the wind was howling – but... He knew exactly what he was doing, what he was saying.

  “Sure was,” said Harry. “Never heard a storm like it.”

  Anna could tell her husband was feeling suddenly awkward, trying to steer the conversation onto normal territory.

  Aaron laughed. “That was nothing, believe me. You should hear it when a real hurricane blows in.”

  They could do this, Anna realized. Talk about the weather. Talk about sport – the Saints or the Pelicans, or whatever. Talk about music and food. Talk about anything but last night.

  “I’m glad we slept over,” she said.

  Martha met her look then, and gave that smile of hers, the one laced with flirt. “You guys sleep well?” she asked.

  Anna nodded.

  It’s funny how things sometimes go. Normally she was the reticent one. The real innocent.

  But this morning... Something had come over her. She’d never felt so confident, so brazen.

  She sat up. For a moment the sheet clung to the curve of her breasts, then it fell away to settle at her lap.

  Martha and Aaron’s eyes went straight to those newly exposed breasts, and a moment later, drawn by their looks, Harry turned to her, too. His jaw sagged and his eyes widened.

  She’d never known anything like this – the thrill of three people devouring her nakedness like this. The confidence to sit here and enjoy it.

  “So,” she said to Martha, fixing her with a look. “About you fucking my husband.”

  Martha glanced at Aaron, at Harry, then back at Anna. “I...” she started, then stopped, clearly trying to read Anna and, for once, failing.

  Anna waited, not breaking the look.

  “Well, technically,” said Martha. “Technically I didn’t actually fuck him.”

  Anna let it dangle for a second or two longer, then said, “I’m not talking about last night. I’m talking about this morning.”

  Martha smiled, then tipped back her head and laughed. “Oh, I like you, Anna Novak. I really like you.”

  Anna nodded. “That’s just as well,” she said, “because first of all...”

  §

  She swung her legs to the side, free of the sheet, and stood.

  All those eyes, still on her. Following the lines of her body, exploring the newly exposed skin. The fullness of he
r breasts, the curve at her waist, the narrow strip of hair running down the center of her mound where she’d clamped her husband’s face last night after he’d come in Martha’s mouth.

  She paused, let them look, let them enjoy her.

  Drawing it out.

  “First of all?” said Martha finally.

  Anna smiled, and moved around the foot of the bed, crossed the floor until she stood toe to toe with Martha.

  “First of all,” she said, and leaned forward to kiss her friend, the only contact their lips. She’d only intended it to be a quick kiss, but... that soft contact felt so good. She edged closer, until their breasts pressed, their thighs, their arms. She raised a hand to Martha’s head, her fingers in that soft hair, and kissed deeper.

  Pressed closer, breasts squashing.

  So many surprises, but this was perhaps the biggest of them all. Martha. The power of the attraction between them.

  Both hands in Martha’s hair now, they shuffled across the floor, kissing hard, until Martha’s back came to rest against the wall.

  In the periphery of her vision, Anna was aware of Aaron, of the expression on his face – the intensity of that smile as he watched them. Briefly, she wondered how it must look to Harry, to see her like this, bold and naked with two other people. The image of her kissing Martha, of her bare ass with Martha’s long- fingered hand cupping one buttock. The way she pulled Martha’s robe open at the front, how she moved against the other woman, pushing a thigh between her legs now, feeling that wonderful softness of wet pussy against her thigh, and the answering pressure of Martha’s thigh against her...

  Martha pulled away from the kiss and a heavy groan burst from her lungs. Anna kissed her neck, delighting in the smoothness of the skin.

  So different to kissing a man! To touching a man. The softness thrilled her. The smoothness.

  Such an intensely erotic – and different – thing to anything she had known before.

  She moved a hand to a breast, cupping and squeezing. Found the nipple and pinched it between thumb and forefinger. Twisted and pulled. Squeezed.