“Mmmm, your tongue is so soft…”
The back of her head pressed against the bathroom mirror, Melissa gazes down past her hard nipples with a broad smile, moaning intermittently with the pleasure of my attentions.
I taste the saline sweetness of her sex and intuit with my lips where Eric’s mouth has been before mine, burrowed deep between the delicate folds of her engorged flesh.
Slipping easily inside, my fingers rouse her overheated wetness to the edge of another climax as she pants heavily. Loud moans echo down the hallway.
“Do you need any help in there?”
Eric cracks open the door, and steps halfway into the bathroom. Reflected in the mirror, he catches the fire in my eyes, as I stand up– fingers still moving inside her– maintaining a constant state of hovering ever closer to release.
My red dress is partially unzipped and has fallen down to my waist–further evidence of our intimate negotiations. She reaches for my breasts, caressing and kneading them hungrily with her slender ringless fingers.
He instinctively knows what I need from him now. He moves in to do what needs doing, because that’s what a good husband does.
Her head lolls over to one side and I brush the wild, damp hair out of her eyes as her greedy mouth attaches to my breast. She cries out, eyes wide and darting as his thick cock enters her– bigger, perhaps, that what she is used to.
“Just relax, Sweetie… you’re going to like this…” I whisper in her ear soothingly.
He draws back–his hardness shining wet with Melissa’s natural lubrication–then forward again, working her slippery opening, gradually picking up the pace.
Supporting her head under my arm, I guide her mouth back to my nipple and press her head against my chest. I look up at him, witnessing the dogged intention in his eyes as he rocks both our bodies– increasing the force of his thrusts.
Between what I’m watching and what we are doing, my senses overload and I feel a burning heat rising in me as we move in symbiotic rhythm toward the inevitable. The exquisite ecstasy on her face is such that feel like I could get off just from the contact. He leans over and kisses me long and hard–a groan of urgency rising in his throat.
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you, too.”
She squeezes her own breasts now, worrying their rock hard peaks frantically, from pink to red as her body careens uncontrollably toward another orgasm. With the gentle pressure of my slicked fingers against her clit, he drives harder now, a little deeper with every stroke, holding her trembling legs open wider, suspended by his strong arms. His smooth, heavy balls seem so large, slapping a relentless staccato against her firm little ass.
Her hips buck and shudder and her teeth snap at my nipple as she pulls away–coming in loud, whimpered cries, harder than earlier in the living room–when she was exposed in front of all my friends, with my husband tonguing her pretty little slit.
She is still pulsating against his rod as he calmly pulls out. I kiss her forehead lightly and turn away as we head across the hall together, leaving her to recover.
I straddle his hips on the bed, and he clasps my pelvic bones between his hands as I ride him harder than I can ever remember. It doesn’t take me, or him– very long to reach our climax, and I roll over to my side of the bed, taking a moment to catch my breath.
“I’m going for a glass of water, you want anything?”
“No, I’m good.” I see him smile through the darkness and I know everything is okay.
I hesitate in the doorway for a moment.
“What?” He asks softly.
I pause for another beat.
“Melissa’s hosting the next party…you wanna come?”
Wanna keep going?