Summer evening ( threesome version )
She arrived home after dinner in the still golden sunlight of the summer sun. She felt good, she had been out with friends and had a few drinks, nothing too heavy, and it was early. Her man is in “his” chair, reading in hand, but his eyes are alert to the door. He smiles a modest one at her entry, but the eyes are saying one thing: want.
“Undress for me, my darling. Slowly”. She does, tingling in anticipation, sensing his glued eyes and desire in each breath. “Heels back on. Walk for me. Strut for me. Walk like a woman who is seeking it.” She, of course, does so. She always does what he says when his tone is thus. And invariably, the reaction is the same: that warmth of her juices tingling in her pussy, the path to her craven state of dripping wetness.
“How was your driver?” He had organized the chauffeur to pick her up. The young man was good-looking, fit and lean. She knew he had liked her, the immaculately groomed femme fatale in the back. She had enjoyed his eyes on her – enjoyed knowing his eyes were on her; enjoyed knowing he was fantasizing about her as he drove, sunglasses guarding exactly where his eyes were; enjoyed how it felt through her. She had crossed and recrossed her legs rather ostentatiously more time than usual, smirking at their discrete dance. “Hot”, she responded, semi-purr, semi-shy.
“Call him up; get him back here. I want you to be fully satisfied.”
Breathing hard now, pussy flowing, she called.
“Madam?” he answered immediately.
“Come here promptly, I need you”, she slowly said. Her tone was firm and inviting but also hinted at her emotions.
“Yes, Madam. Of course, I am at your service”.
Did he suspect? Perhaps in a way. She did not care: her mind and body were thrilled about the upcoming fest: she, taken by this young dreamboat and then – she knew it was coming – by them both, together. And all at her man’s demand, in his full view, for his pleasure as hers – him having her physically and mentally and giving her all to his pleasure too. Their generous, liberated love. Manifested.
“Before he returns, sit opposite me, and play with yourself. I want you dripping.”
She was descending into her beloved state of wanton lust, led by him, her orchestrator. She let out a small, almost silent gasp and sat bolt upright, legs wide, heels high and gazed at him while she kissed her fingers slowly (no need for juices), the other hand holding her pussy wide before they started playing, demonstrably with her bulging lips and harden clit. Her silk knickers had a pussy-opening; she invariably wore such: her being ready and accessible at any time and wanting pleasures (and the knickers being one such demonstration) – was central to their union – she glowed with that energy, he desired and gloried in her fully.
The bell rang. She, eyes still locked, got up silently and paced slowly to the door. Opening it in lingerie, heels and stockings, she croaked, “Thank you for returning. I said I needed you. I do. My man wants my pleasure. My full pleasure. And my pleasure starts with you having me. As you will.”
“Madam”, he barely got out, hurriedly taking in the scene but consumed by the images his feasting eyes were devouring: this elegant, toned woman, dressed in minimal pink lace lingerie, stockings and heels, lips bright red, hair flowing, eyes wanting. Of course, he had been fantasizing about having her as they drove, but it had all the likelihood of a daydream. Now here he was. Offered it all while the man watched on.
He took her hand. Touched gently, slowly, her body with the other while his eyes scanned the room.
“Come back to the couch”, her man ordered, the tone was clear – she obeyed, and the young man followed. The cool, deep leather couch where she had been taken in myriad ways so many times before. But never before in front of her man, with another man (a woman, yes) at his order. She had had him and other men together before – with other couples, on a special birthday date (their fantasies revelled in; their adventures real) – but never this unsuspectedly, never so controlled, never so direct.
The young man soon fell to unrestrained lust – not concentrating on her man’s gaze, just her glistening, writhing form. She, though, had eyes only for her man – directly watching or through the huge wall mirror. And, of course, he returned the gaze with total concentration: he was eating her too, just without touch.
He knew, and she knew her desire – double penetration, the young cock in her pussy, his cock in her ass. She had been coming from the young man’s tongue, but all the time, this was central in her all: to be taken in both her tiny holes. She made the young man lie back and started riding him on top. Slowly, deeply.
And gazing with love and want and need, she whispered “Please” over to her love. Taking his trousers and shirt off deliberately, eyes still fixed, he moved behind her, cock hard out. She sighed and let go of his spit-covered finger in her other hole, followed by his stone-hard cock. She had never experienced such extreme sensations, and she couldn’t resist her orgasms coming one after another, taking her into delirium. And she loved it. Completely…