The sound of the fabric tearing sent a frisson of raw delight scraping across my nerves. He’d ripped the skirt before realizing it tied at the side. I helped with that, just as I helped him remove my blouse and bra. In less than a minute, I stood in nothing but my heels, shivering in the wake of the air-conditioned breeze blowing over my skin.
My knees quivered. Brent used his hands to part my thighs, and I reached out to clench my fingers in his hair.
“That’s right,” Richard murmured, walking around us both. His voice traced a path along my naked body, dominating me with nothing more than words. “He’s going to lick you, and you’re going to let him. You get me, Dana? You’re not going to push him away, or squirm out of his reach, or pretend you don’t like it as you’ve done to me. He’s going to tongue fuck you into oblivion if that’s what I want him to do.”
He didn’t need an answer, and I didn’t give him one. I spread my legs and pressed Brent’s face into my sex. He kissed me deeply there, probing my lips, splitting me open with his tongue. His hands cupped my ass and brought me closer to him as he consumed me. I didn’t resist. My hips moved in time with his mouth, seeking deeper contact, urging him on.
I ground my cunt in his face and he took it, letting me use him as roughly as I wanted while he worked me over. “Yes.” I made a noise, something akin to a groan, hiss and moan all rolled up in a breathless sound of erotic torment.
Richard stood behind Brent. He leaned in, his face so close to mine I could smell the sweet scent of champagne on his breath. “Say it,” he whispered. “Say it, you little slut.”
Brent’s lips fused to my clit. He tugged and I cried out as a shudder ran through me and coiled in my stomach. I shook my head. “What?”
“That you want to get fucked. I’ve been waiting for those words to fly from your mouth for six damn long years.”
I sucked in a breath and flattened my lips together. Brent added a finger to his ministrations, first sliding it through my folds then thrusting it inside my quivering cunt. I squatted, needing to give him access, wanting more. So much more.
“Stop!” Richard’s command was a slap; a warning. “Get off her.”
Brent scrambled backwards and ran the back of his hand over his mouth, smearing my juices along one side of his jaw. I’d messed up his perfectly styled hair and it now stood on end, a dishevelled, endearing mess that made me want to grab his head again and hold it between my legs until he either suffocated, or I died first.
Richard grabbed my arm and shoved me towards the back of the couch. I lost my balance and fell forwards. We’d set the leather monstrosity in the middle of the room because it faced the TV, but now I realized it served another purpose. My ass thrust high in the air as my stomach flattened against the leather.
“You don’t want this, huh?” Richard’s fingers probed my cunt. I knew it was him and not Brent in an instant. I’d have recognized his hands anywhere.
“I-”
He thrust two fingers inside me in a savage motion made effortless by Brent’s masterful tongue-lashing. With his thumb, he pressed down on my back entrance, testing me. I drew my lower lip between my teeth and bit down hard. And then I pushed back against him, once, twice, taking his fingers deeper inside me with each glide of my skin against the smooth leather of the couch.
Another snap of his fingers. Another unspoken man-to-man order.
This time Brent came to stand before me on the other side of the couch. He kneeled on the leather cushion and unzipped his pants. I watched him pull out his cock through the slit in his boxer shorts and admired the thick, meaty length of it. The depth of the perversity and depravity of our actions hit me then with an unexpected force that made my muscles clench. My cunt clenched around Richard’s fingers and I shuddered in wanton surrender. The sweet rush of release tossed me around on a wave of pure physical pleasure, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in it.
I could have ridden that wave for hours. Hell, I might still be there now. But Brent brought me back to earth much too soon by shoving his cock in my face.
Not that I minded. I should have; I know that. But I didn’t.
I opened wide, took him in like the good, horny wife Richard wanted. I drenched him with my tongue, laved at the veins snaking up the underside of his shaft, and sucked hard enough for my cheeks to hollow. All the while, Richard’s fingers never stopped moving. He taunted me with his rough glides. His thrusts crossed the line from pleasure to pain, then jumped back again, eliciting the kind of ecstasy that made my head reel.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on the cock in my mouth. I buried my nose in Brent’s thatch of neatly trimmed pubic hair and sucked like I hadn’t known I could. I varied the pressure, caressed him with my tongue, slid my lips up and down his shaft while I listened to the sounds of his satisfied moaning. When it came, that soft grunt of inevitability I’d been waiting for, it fuelled my desire to work harder. He was close now, and, oh, how I wanted to taste him, to have him shoot his load down my throat.
And then I wanted to kiss my husband. Badly.
More than I could remember wanting to kiss him in my life.
Brent gripped my head and held it in place as his cock twitched and pressed against the roof of my mouth. My motions grew fevered. The anticipation of his salty come hitting the back of my throat was almost more delicious than the real thing.
He let out a low, guttural cry as his hips jerked in time with the spurting of his seed. I didn’t have the patience to swallow it all, so I pulled away partway through his shuddering orgasm. Some of his come splattered on my chin and chest, but I didn’t care. I swallowed most of what was in my mouth, then jerked myself away from Richard’s hand and twisted on the couch so my ass perched on the backrest.
My arms came up around Richard’s neck. My legs followed suit, wrapping around his waist, and I pulled him to me before either one of us could think too long about the implications of my actions. My lips parted. His did, too, and he sucked in a breath as I shared the remnants of Brent’s come. Our tongues twined and twisted and I pressed my crotch against the thick length of his erection.
I humped him while we kissed, like a teenager whose parents had left her home alone for the first time. And like that teenager, a tumultuous flurry of emotions danced within me. Eager, unheeded lust jumbled with guilt and regret, making me woozy.
I closed my eyes to fight the dizziness, but Richard stopped me. “No. Look at me,” he whispered after breaking the kiss. “I want you to see me. This is who I am. This is the man you married.”
He picked me up by the waist and, without warning, threw me over the back of the couch. I landed on the cushions with an oomph that fled my lungs on a startled cry.
“Fuck her,” Richard shouted at Brent. Gone was the cold indifference in his voice. I had the distinct feeling that he couldn’t keep the fury at bay if he tried. “Fuck her now! Show my wife what it’s like to be unfaithful. To think with your crotch rather than your head.”
He wheeled around the couch and shot towards Brent so quickly that my breath leaped into my throat. For a terrified heartbeat, I wasn’t sure if he was planning on forcing the other man on me, or if he was one fraction of a second away from beating him within an inch of his life.
Brent must have seen the savage uncertainty in Richard’s movements too, because he didn’t wait to be asked again. He climbed on to me, straddled my waist, and guided his semi-soft cock so the tip pressed against my folds.
It was too soon after the last orgasm for him to take me like the wild stallion my husband wanted him to be. Brent gripped his prick and stroked it with long, hard jerks. The delicate skin of his shaft turned an angry shade of red, but his dick obeyed, growing long and hard on demand.