by Lainey Fox
“I’ll have you right here on the couch,” Damien growled in her ear.
“But what if your neighbor’s see? The curtains aren’t even drawn!” Amy feigned concern.
“Let them watch,” he said.
He pushed her onto her back and her hands flew up to cup his face. He kissed her on the lips, moving down her chin to the nape of her neck. Amy sighed in pleasure as Damien kissed further down her neckline. He pulled her shirt over her head then unhooked her bra. Amy’s breasts glowed in the orange light; her nipples were hard. Damien bit them while pinning her arms on the leather couch. She writhed beneath him, her senses raging out of control. Sliding his warm brown hands down her pale arms, Damien undid the button of her jeans. Amy was breathing hard. She was so aroused that she felt as if her heart and lungs were going to explode from her chest. Damien didn’t take notice. He tugged her jeans off slowly, planting kisses on her hips and thighs.
Amy’s skin erupted with goose bumps. Though the house was fairly warm, she felt the chill of pleasure coursing through her body. Damien tossed his lover’s pants and underwear on the floor and turned his attention to her pussy. Hungrily, he licked, savoring her succulent mound. Amy could feel the itching pull of an orgasm. It came and went like the waves of an ocean, her own body teasing her to the brink of madness. When she finally came, Damien gave her no rest, inserting himself inside her. She cried out in pleasure as she felt his tip, hard, against her and then inside her.
Damien’s skin, normally dark brown, seemed to glow a bright orange under the fiery lights. Amy felt as if she were making love to a god of fire, one who had ripped open the earth with his strong hands only to ravage a middle aged housewife on his leather couch. Amy groaned with ecstasy as Damien thrust harder against her. Amy reached out to grab her love god’s shoulders, only to have him grasp her wrists, pinning them behind her head. This only made Amy moan, which made Damien smile.
He fucked her like this for hours, leaving her raw and slightly numb from an uncountable number of orgasms. Damien made sure Amy came enough times that she couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. He loved the way she became ticklish after climax. This encouraged him to keep going. He could only imagine what it felt like for her, to succumb to the fever over and over again.
When Amy left that night, she found she could barely walk. Her thighs were sore from being held above her head each time Damien went down on her. He was ravenous on nights like these, licking her until she screamed out, begging him to both continue and stop at the same time.
Revealing Herself
Amy always made sure she smelled of perfume when she came home. Embarrassingly enough, the smell of sex mixed with perfume now turned her on. Laying next to John after those nights, she felt like her double life were the most romantic thing that had ever happened. Poor John was in bed, snoring softly as he clutched his pillow. After checking on him, Amy would deposit her clothes in the laundry, hoping the smell of the dirty clothes would mask her minx scent; though she knew John wouldn’t have noticed either way.
When Amy first started seeing Damien she didn’t feel guilty. He held her captive and she loved every minute of it. Damien had made her his and she knew she could never make love to John the same way after meeting him. The more time went on, the more she desired to tell John. At times it was an angry decision. She wanted to tell him sometimes just to see the look on his face. Of course it would crush him, but maybe they would have hate sex afterwards. Amy sometimes spent her time in the bath getting herself off to the image of her husband forcing her in the kitchen, fucking her from behind as he was in tears after learning about Damien.
She also had fantasies about being taken by John and Damien at the same time. She would pleasure herself to the image of the two men standing over her; one, the passionate lover and the other jealous. Her daydreams flowed around her, tinging everything in varying shades of pink and red. She wished to be taken with her hands behind her back, both her lovers ravaging what was left of her body. Amy no longer felt like just a house wife; she was an enchantress, a woman with a powerful secret. She longed for the three of them would reach climax, for Amy knew it would be an amazing experience. But first, she needed to confront John.
Amy’s morning coffee had grown cold between her hands. How long had she been sitting at the kitchen table? By now the sun was high in the sky, raining light through the curtained windows. The bright yellowy orange sunlight reminded her of Damien and the fire of his heart, the heat of his hands, the feeling of his fingers as they thrummed inside of her and swirled around her clit.
John came downstairs in a tattered bathrobe and an old pair of slippers that Amy had given to him one year for Christmas. He smiled at her before going over to the coffee pot. By now, the coffee had surely become tar.
“Sit down, John. We need to talk,” Amy said, trying to hide the emotion from her voice.
Amy knew that if she wasn’t firm with John she was never going to get to play out her fantasy. John needed to be punished for his failure to pleasure her. He needed to understand the power that was her lover, Damien.
“Good morning,” he said groggily. “What did you want to talk about?”
Amy’s heart let into her throat; she responded by pushing all fear aside and leaping into the moment.
“I’ve been sleeping with someone else. His name is Damien. We met online a few weeks ago, and I thought I should let you know.”
Amy could see John was agitated; she held up a hand. “I understand this must be hard to hear, we’ve been married for so long. But I need you to understand — John? Are you crying?”
She needed John to get a hold of himself before the kids woke up. If they saw their father like this, they would immediately assume the worst. John wiped his nose with his sleeve, and Amy almost felt bad for him. She still cared for him, after all. And why couldn’t she have feelings for both John and Damien?
“Are you- are you saying you want a divorce?” John asked.
This question wasn’t surprising, considering the conversation topic. Amy sucked in a sharp breath before continuing.
“No,” she said firmly. “That’s not what this is. John, I want you to look at me. We haven’t been okay for a very long time. Can you remember the last time we had sex?”
John looked guiltily out the window.
“You see?” That’s what I’m talking about! You can’t even look at me right now! I told you I’m sleeping with another man, and you’re crying? Shouldn’t you be angrier than that? John, are you even list-“
John slammed his fist on the table, interrupting Amy.
“Damn it, shut up,” he said gruffly.
Instantly, Amy was turned on by her husband’s momentarily show of emotion and power.. She seized this moment as an opportunity. The kids would be asleep for another hour at least; they didn’t have school today, and enjoyed sleeping until at least ten. Amy stood quickly and advanced towards John. She took her face in her hands and kissed him, hard. It felt good to be the one in charge. She knew Damien would be proud of her. Damien. She sighed the name inside her head, feeling herself becoming instantly wet.
John didn’t kiss Amy back at first. He was no doubt still angry with her, but it was too late. She’d already decided to take him prisoner in her game of love, and wouldn’t stop until they’d both reached climax. She took her hand and shoved it down John’s pants. Feeling his erection, she took this as a good sign. She tugged apart his bathroom strings and pulled him towards her. He responded by turning her around and pulling down her pants. She gripped the dishwasher. John caressed her ass for a few seconds before inserting himself in her.
Amy was surprised to find she was so wet and receptive. She couldn’t remember the last time she and her husband had made love, let alone the last time he’d taken her from behind. She took his hands and placed them on her breasts, forced his fingers to rub her hard nipples. Amy sighed once, quietly. John put a hand over her out which only turned her on more. She licked
and bit at his fingers as he thrust into her. Amy could feel John’s anger coursing through his veins, hardening his cock. He racked his fingers down her back, raising soft pink lines of skin that were meant to be a reminder of her betrayal. They would fade later in the bath, and she would think of how she wanted more. Even though she was making love to her husband, her mind spiraled out of control with thoughts of Damien.
She almost called his name out by mistake, before catching herself and thinking better of it. John was no doubt still angry at her for Damien and her infidelity, but she had a feeling he’d get over it. To help nudge him in the right direction, Amy decided she would finish John off with her mouth. She loved hearing the sharp intake of John’s breath as she inserted his cock between her lips. It wasn’t as big as Damien’s, but John was still able to make her gag. She sucked, tasting her own mixture of sweet and salty on his cock. She bobbed her head up and down his cock, sucking and licking, giving her husband the blowjob he always wanted.
When John was about to cum, Amy pulled him towards her. She took his entire length into her mouth as his cock pulsed with cum. Ropes of his hot cum erupted from his prick, hitting the back of Amy’s throat. She swallowed as he laced his fingers through her hair. A quiet moan escaped his lips.
After John collected himself, Amy decided it was time. With his cock still in her hand, she squeezed his still leaking head.
“I want you to meet Damien,” she told him.
John, still in a post orgasmic cloud, nodded in submissive approval. He swallowed once, unable to look his wife in the eye. The feeling of her tongue on his cock aroused him once more.
“Alright,” he said quietly.
Amy squealed, planting a kiss on his forehead. “We will meet him for dinner tonight.”
Husband’s Apprehension
After leaving the kids with the babysitter, Amy drove them to Damien’s. John asked surprisingly few questions about the nature of their relationship. She would have thought he’d be more interested about the man screwing his wife. It mattered not; they would be meeting in a matter of moments regardless. Amy drove the whole way there. It felt good to be in charge when John was around.
Damien opened the door with a wide smile. He shook John’s hand and invited them into his home. Amy instantly became aroused when she saw the couch where they’d made love not a full day before. As she walked she clenched her thighs together, feeling the pressure of her clit against her thong.
“John, it’s good to finally meet you. Amy’s told me so much about you. Tell me, what kind of wine do you drink?”
“Yeah, I’m real sure she has,” John muttered. “I drink red wine, I don’t know, Pinot Grigio? I don’t know anything about wine.”
“I’ve got a Pinot Noir I know you’ll love. Come sit and relax. I’ve cooked a wonderful meal. And, Amy? Some help in the kitchen?”
Amy smiled and nodded at Damien. It felt good to be wanted. She followed him into the kitchen, ignoring John’s eyes on her back. Hers were focused on Damien’s shoulders. He was wearing a crisp white button down shirt and black dress pants. His shoes made clicking noises on the aging marble. Damien’s kitchen was full of golden pots and pans. He had various vegetables hanging above the stove. There were gourds on the table, full and round. Amy longed to trace the outline of their hard little bodies. She loved when Damien traced the outline of her curves. She would guide him to her collarbone, loving the way his warm hands would grasp her neck.
They’d spoken recently about trying anal. Amy was hesitant at first, but Damien had presented her with rubber anal beads of varying shades of rouge. She willingly bent over, loved the feeling of Damien pushing them slowly into her. She found it easier to climax when she was full in both holes, found her breath catching at the memory of it all. She wanted to have Damien and John right there in the kitchen. Damien noticed the look on her face and planted a kiss on her cheek in response.
“Soon,” he whispered in her ear.
She was certain she could feel John blistering in the background. Amy ignored his huffs and puffs. He had agreed to come here, and this would help their relationship, she was sure of it. At the stove, Damien was stirring a pot of sauce. He’d used his mother’s recipe to make spaghetti and meatballs, a childhood favorite of Amy’s. Damien held the spoon out and Amy opened her mouth. The sauce exploded on her taste buds, sent tingles down her tongue and throat. It was the perfect blend of sweet, spicy, and warm.
Amy heard John stand up from the table. She turned towards him just as a drop of sauce splashed onto her exposed chest. She’d chosen to wear her black dress with the deep V-neck, so as to catch the attention of her two men. John was about to say something when Damien leaned in and licked the sauce off Amy’s breast.
“Now wait a minute-“John began.
Damien advanced towards him. When they were face to face, he spoke.
“John I don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us. I find myself very attracted to your wife. Please, I don’t want any fighting in my house. This night is all about our love for one another. Now, will you try some of my sauce?”
Damien leaned in close to John, whose ears turned a light pink.
“O-okay,” John stuttered submissively.
Damien held the spoon out which John willingly licked. Damien placed a hand under John’s chin.
“There’s a good boy,” Damien whispered.
“I’ll be right back,” Amy called out.
“Of course,” Damien turned to her and smiled.
Amy rushed to the bathroom, which was down the hallway on the right. It was furnished with blue wallpaper and mermaid sculptures. There were small seashell soaps by the sink. Amy leaned her back against the door and sunk to the ground. She took her hand and eased it up her dress. Her thong was already soaked through. She began to rub her clit, hard, until she could no longer bear the itching sensation. She clenched her stomach as the orgasm tore through her. It was brief, but enough to satiate her, for now.
She cleaned herself off and washed her hands with the seashell soap. It smelled of lavender. Amy walked back to the kitchen, smelling the back of her hands. She walked into the kitchen and yelped quietly. Damien and John were sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen; Damien was stroking John’s face. Amy knew John had been hesitant at first. She wasn’t sure how Damien persuaded John, but he seemed calm as he stroked his face.
“Amy, welcome back. Are you ready for dinner?”
“Of course,” she said.
She headed toward the kitchen table. Behind her she could hear the clanging of dishes and silverware. Damien set down two empty glasses for John and Amy, proceeding to fill them with a dark red wine. Amy picked up the glass and sniffed its contents. It was sweet but not sweet enough to hide the telltale aroma of the alcohol. It was different from the Pinot Grigio from earlier. John sat next to Amy, patting her leg softly. He smiled a small smile at her. He seemed to be okay with things so far. Or at least Amy assumed so since he was neither complaining nor asking to leave. Damien must have calmed him somehow when she was in the bathroom. She thought briefly of Damien going down on John. She bit her lip as a spark ran up her spine at the thought.
After Damien set the table he went into the living room and placed a record on the record player. Soft jazz snuck into the dining room, relaxing Amy further. She felt she and her husband were being slowly seduced, and she was right She was thankful the babysitter was spending the night; Damien seemed to be taking his time. When he finally did sit down to eat, he smiled warmly at the two of them.
“Friends, enjoy the meal. I hope that after we’re done we can retire to the bedroom. I’ve set up the guest room, but you know my bed is always available for three.”
John had a bite of spaghetti in his mouth which didn’t stop him from protesting.
“I didn’t agree to any sleepovers, Damien.”
Damien winked at Amy. “Don’t worry dove, I’ll convince him.”
Damien was prone to calli
ng Amy various pet names, from dove to doe. She enjoyed how affectionate he was. John called her dear every once in a while, but only when he was answering her nagging. He was always saying “Yes dear,” or “No dear.” Sometimes “I don’t know, dear.” They continued to eat, occasionally pausing to converse about the music or the decor. The sexual tension strained in the background of their small talk as the three finished their dinners.
Damien washed the dishes while John and Amy hung out on the couch. He was now whispering angrily to her, all about how he didn’t want to sleep over. Damien was beginning to have an effect on John, she could tell by how pink his ears were. He was definitely nervous, but she still hadn’t figured out why. Damien’s footsteps echoed into the hallway.
