I heard him enter the room, but I heard nothing else as I slammed into her. Her moans got louder, but more real, with each thrust. “Oh fuck baby.” I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or him, if this was more of the character she was playing or the truest version of herself I had been privy to all night. I wasn’t sure if I even cared.
She had another orgasm shortly after he came in the room. I wasn’t sure how much time had even passed, and I didn’t want to start counting the minutes because it meant they were disappearing. “Let me ride you.” The words came out ragged as she recovered from what was clearly enjoyable agony. I turned over as she grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand and pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. Clearly the curls weren’t meant to last.
As she straddled me, my eyes glanced over to her husband. I had forgotten he was even there, and now curiosity overtook me. Jesus, he wasn’t small. Another thing I was wrong about. His hands moved with a familiar purpose as she lowered herself onto me. Her back was to him now, but I watched as he got up from the chair he had placed in the corner, and now leaned back against the dresser, stroking himself.
Her hips made small circles as she took control, and I was happy to let her. She had always been a good dancer, and this skill served her well now. I let her lead, and I followed, just hoping I didn’t step on her toes. “Oh god yes, this is exactly what I wanted.” Again, I didn’t know which of us it was directed at, if anyone. And again, I wasn’t sure it mattered. She lifted her hands off my chest and slowly they climbed like vines up to her own neck, and onto the messy bun she wore like a crown. I took the chance to put my hands back onto her hips, and speed up the pace. My hips challenged hers, rougher and faster than before. Her eyes widened and her lips pursed, trying to stifle the the moan that was building. Suddenly her hands fell back onto the bed, and her chest rested on mine. I felt the sheets get tighter underneath my back and she clenched her hands around the fabric.
“It’s your turn next time.” The words came louder than I expected, but I didn’t want it to end yet. I glanced at the alarm clock on their nightstand. Fuck, it was later than I realized. She dismounted me and turned to face the dresser, the door and her husband. “I want you to finish with me like this.”
On her hands and knees, she looked so good. I entered her with a groan. God, how was she this tight? “I want your cum. I need it.” She said the words to me and his hand sped up, pumping himself faster and faster while I slammed into her over and over. “Oh fuck yes. This is what I need. Cum for me.” My arms started to shake as I held onto her shoulders and I felt myself getting closer. Before the question was even formed in my mind, she answered. “Cum wherever you want. You deserve it.”
The words sent me careening over the edge. I groaned and unloaded years of frustration and longing into her, emptying more than just my body. I slumped against her back, I watched her husband grab a towel and wipe his hands. He must have finished too. He grabbed two others and tossed them to us, one to each.
“Holy shit that was hot,” he said as she and I rolled over and I wiped the sweat off my face. She walked off with an insane level of confidence, calling out “Hell yeah it was,” as she went to the bathroom. Her husband and I remained in a cautious silence, both still clearly in recovery mode.
I heard the water start and stop as my brain struggled to right itself, like a ship in a storm. “Seriously, thank you for that,” she said as she walked back into the room. I sat on the bed and watched as she walked over to her husband and kissed him deeply. “And I mean it, it’s your turn next time.”