Popular Post ScreamqueenNkiller Posted January 17 Popular Post She stepped into the dimly lit bedroom, her heart pounding with a cocktail of nerves and exhilaration, clad in her favorite sheer black lingerie that hugged her curves like a second skin. On the bed, sprawled invitingly, was the other woman,her friend, d***d in a deeper crimson set she’d handpicked herself for this exact moment, the lace accentuating every sway of her hips and the soft swell of her breasts. From the shadowed corner, she felt the weight of familiar eyes. Her husband, a silent, masculine silhouette she knew intimately, his presence a thrilling anchor in the charged air. All gazes converged on her, thick with unspoken promises. Years ago, in a fleeting whisper during pillow talk, she’d confessed to him her curiosity about a threesome with another woman…nothing beyond drunken kisses and tentative touches in college, far from the vivid dreams that still lingered. Lately, their bedroom had grown restless; he’d circled back to her fantasy, proposing they explore it on her terms, with rules she alone dictated. Their friendship had sparked unexpectedly when the woman admitted, eyes gleaming, that she found her sexually irresistible. Shocked at first, she’d leaned into the connection anyway, building a bond laced with subtle tension. Her husband knew her only in passing, “That’s my wife’s friend” and showed no spark of interest, which made his easy agreement all the more surprising when she’d secured her friend’s eager yes. Now, here they were, the room humming with anticipation. He’d vowed to watch from the shadows unless beckoned. She approached the bed, and the woman rose fluidly to her knees, meeting her at the edge. Their bodies pressed close in a warm embrace, hands intertwining as soft lips met in a slow, lingering kiss…tongues brushing tentatively at first, then deepening with shared breath. The woman’s whisper ghosted against her ear, soothing and sultry “Relax, I know this is your first time. You’re safe with me.” They tumbled across the sheets in a slow, playful tangle…giggling at first, then quieter, breath catching as skin met skin. The other woman pinned her gently, straddling her hips, chest heaving with a radiant smile. Her eyes burned with sudden focus, hand gliding from shoulder to ribcage, tracing the dip of waist, the soft plane of belly, until fingertips settled over the damp lace between her thighs. A pause just long enough for consent to shimmer in the air then the woman’s mouth followed the same path, lips brushing collarbone, sternum, navel, lingering at the waistband. She hooked her thumbs beneath the lace and drew the panties down inch by inch, kissing the newly bared skin of each thigh, each knee, until the fabric slipped free and was tossed aside. The wife’s legs fell open of their own accord. Warm breath ghosted over her folds a single, deliberate lick parted them. The wife’s back arched, a sharp inhale swallowed by the hush of the room. A tongue circled her clit with maddening patience while one finger eased inside, curling, searching. Another joined, scissoring gently, stroking the slick walls in slow, rhythmic pulses. The wife’s hands fisted the sheets her hips rolled in *** counterpoint. Pleasure coiled low and bright, building in languid waves rather than the frantic rush she knew with men. The woman’s free hand splayed across her stomach, grounding her as the pressure on her clit never faltered steady, relentless, perfect. When the climax hit, it unfurled rather than crashed…a long, shuddering bloom that lifted her hips clear off the mattress, thighs trembling around the woman’s shoulders. She came in pulses, each one drawn out by the slow drag of fingers and the soft suction of mouth, until the world blurred and her own voice sounded distant. At last the tremors eased. The woman crawled up her body, lips glistening, and kissed her deep, unhurried, letting her taste herself on another woman’s tongue. One hand cupped her breast, thumb circling the nipple in lazy aftershock, while the other stroked damp hair from her brow. The wife melted into the kiss, boneless, heart racing against the steady beat beneath her palm. From the shadowed corner, her husband emerged like a promise kept, his footsteps deliberate on the creaking floorboards, the low lamplight catching the hard line of his jaw and the unmistakable bulge straining against his unzipped jeans. He paused at the bedside, eyes locked on his wife’s flushed, parted lips and the slick sheen still coating the other woman’s chin, a silent question hanging in the air until she reached out a trembling hand…invitation, permission, need. The friend shifted aside with a wicked smile, making space as he knelt between his wife’s spread thighs, his rough palms sliding up her calves to grip behind her knees, spreading her wider…the head of his cock, already leaking, nudged once against her swollen folds before he sank in to the hilt in one slow, claiming thrust, filling the aching void the woman’s fingers had only teased. His shoulders flexed like carved marble under the low light, every tendon and ridge of muscle honed from years of disciplined labor, the raw power of him surging with each controlled roll of his hips as he drove into her with deliberate, possessive ***. Thick veins corded along his forearms as he pinned her thighs apart, the coarse hair on his chest scraping her sensitive nipples while his breath came in low, guttural growls that vibrated through her core. The other woman reclined beside them, knees drawn up and spread, fingers plunging slickly between her own folds, eyes glazed with hunger as she watched his thick length disappear into his wife again and again…with a final, shuddering snarl he buried himself deep, hips jerking as he spilled hot and pulsing inside her, marking her in primal claim while the friend’s moans crested in frantic sympathy, her own climax rippling through her at the sight. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and languid sighs, sweat slicked skin cooling beneath the whisper of night air slipping through the cracked window. Chests rose and fell in uneven rhythm, fingers still loosely entwined, the faint pulse of shared aftershocks fading into quiet. Whether this door would open again remained a question suspended in the dark, but tonight they had crossed every threshold without regret, bodies and boundaries surrendered in perfect, fleeting trust. Sleep claimed them like a tide, carrying away the last echoes of pleasure into dreams none would confess come morning.
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