Poker Night: All In

Game Night

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Phil, not looking away from my reflection in the mirror.

“Of course, love,” he answered, stepping up behind me and staring over my shoulder to meet my eyes through my reflection. “You look great.”

“Not that,” I said, running my hands down the red dress that he’d helped me pick out. He was right that I looked great – the dress was tight where it needed to be to show off my curves without being too constrictive, sleeveless and thin-strapped to show off my arms and neck, and just short enough to draw attention to my legs without showing too much.

“Of course, Jess. Whatever happens, happens.” He pressed a kiss into the top of my head. “Besides, it can’t be any crazier than that New Year’s Eve we spent in New York.”

Images and sensory memory flicked through my head. There had been wine and dancing, low light and celebration. We’d met up with another couple spending the weekend in the Big Apple, had gone back to their hotel room, and…

“I remember,” I whispered, my voice going low and sultry. “We went to their hotel and danced. We switched partners, me with him and you with her. And then all together, after that.”

That had been a magical night. I swear the four of us must have gone through a whole box of condoms. Our rumination was cut off by the sound of the doorbell downstairs. That was just as well, since I could see a flush already creeping up my cheeks and my nipples peaking against my dress – it wasn’t the kind that you would wear a bra under.

“I’ll go down and get the door,” Phil said, taking a half step back. “Do you need to finish up your makeup?”

I nodded in answer, and then gasped indignantly as his hand slapped down on my ass. “See you soon, Jess. Don’t keep us waiting too long.”

I watched him through the mirror as he left the room, and listened to him pound down the stairs. He was excited, that much was obvious, and I was too.

I sat down in front of the vanity, popping open my makeup cases with quick efficiency. I didn’t need too much tonight. I was just starting on the foundation when I heard Phil open the door and greet his friend, and was flicking my eyelashes out with a mascara wand when I heard the two guys laughing in their loud, deep voices. I was dabbing on some subtle eyeshadow when the doorbell sounded again, and John invited a second friend inside.

By the time I got to the lipstick, the three men had already left the main floor, to start setting up the game downstairs.

I gave myself a last look over, and a nod of approval. Light concealer, subtle eyeshadow, long dark lashes, a deep red on my lips. I looked nice, without looking like I was trying too hard. This was a poker game after all, not a gala.

I grabbed a bottle of red and a glass on my way downstairs, and stopped short at the basement. The three guys were around the table, starting to count out coins and bills, and replacing spent beer bottles with fresh ones from the mini fridge. Michael was in the middle of telling a boisterous story, which I caught the tail end of: “So I told her, I says, ‘Look, I don’t wanna wear the damn condom, and you don’t want me to wear it either. So stop pretending, and climb on up.'”

“And she did?” The other guy. Brandon, asked.

“Sure as I sit here today,” Michael answered. “She rode me, bareback and all, and loved every second of it. Blew my load in her, maybe even knocked her up. I don’t know or even care. All I know is no guy wants to wear a condom if he can get away with it, and most girls don’t even want it anyway. I swear, half of them have a fetish for taking that bareback risk. Hey, Phil, your wife isn’t still making you wrap it every night, is she?”

“No James tonight?” I asked before my husband had to answer the uncomfortable question, and the three of them looked up.

“His wife’s sick,” Brandon told me with a shrug, “so he’s staying home with her. Three’s enough for a game anyhow.”

“But there’s room for a fourth?”

“You wanna play, Jessica?” Brandon asked, looking surprised. “Usually on game nights you just stop downstairs long enough to freshen a couple drinks and watch a few rounds.”

“Tonight you’ll just have to freshen your own damn drinks,” I said, and the three guys burst out laughing.

“Shit, Jess,” Mike said with a guffaw. “You haven’t played a hand with us in years, but there’s always room for you. Even if you run out of chairs here, you can always sit on Philly’s lap.”

Phillip snorted and rolled his eyes, which was answer enough. I poured a glass of wine for myself before sitting down, and found that Phil had already split a bill into coins and put them in front of me. I did a quick count of the pile before looking up. “A hundred bucks? I remember when you boys used to play for dimes.”

“Well, I’m regional coordinator at work now,” Brandon said with a little smirk, “and Phil’s been raking in the contracts, and Mike is Mike. We’ve got enough to wager, so we’ve been upping the ante a bit every now and then. Is it too rich for your blood?”

“It hardly seems fair,” Mike grunted. “If the two of them each put in a hundred, that means I’m gonna be taking two hundred from their household when I walk out tonight.”

“No need to get cocky,” Brandon shot back. “After all these years, I’ve finally got your tell pinned down.”

“You forget that I’ve seen you boys play a lot over the years,” I countered. “I’ve got you all figured out. Deal us in, Mike.”

He did, his grin turning into a stony neutrality as he started sliding cards across the table.

Second Glass

We were nine or ten rounds in, and I was two glasses of wine in, and things weren’t looking great for me so far. My pile of coins and bills were under half, and both Brandon and Mike were looking pleased as peaches.

My mind wasn’t fully on the game, though. When I had gotten up twice, first to use the washroom then to refill my glass, I had brushed against Mike a little too closely for him to mistake it for coincidence. He was watching me uncertainly now, like he was trying to figure out what kind of game I was running. Brandon’s eyes were mostly on my cleavage, which he had gotten a good eyeful of once when I bent right over the table to collect my winnings from a round, and once when I leaned past him to grab the empty bottles from the table.

They were distracted, and I figured I had them beat. “I raise,” I told them, sliding another bill forward before staring at each of the boys in turn.

“Fold,” Michael declared, laying his hand down in front of him. Brandon and Phillip just nodded at me and slid a matching bill forward.

Then Phil flipped the next card from the deck face-up, the turn. “Fourth street’s looking my way, boys,” I told the two remaining players with a grin. I slid another bill forward, and the other two did the same.

Then Mike flipped the last card, the river, upright onto the table. Phil’s lip twitched for a second, and I knew he was in trouble. Brandon looked uncertain for a moment, but with him that could mean anything. But my hand was good, and I liked my odds. “I’m going to up the ante a little tonight, see if anyone is feeling ballsy.”

Brandon quirked an eyebrow at me. “I’ve got enough to risk it, even if you pushed it all in.”

“It’s go big or go home,” I told him, then ripped a strip of paper off of the notepad at the table, and scribbled on it. A moment later, I slid the square of paper into the middle of the table, and all three of them leaned forward to read it.

“Blowjob?” Mike asked, incredulous.

“Blowjob,” I confirmed. “You win that and you can cash it in right away, or later on.”

Brandon and Mike stared at me for a moment, looking confused and intrigued, glanced at each other, then stared at Phil. Phillip, my dear husband of six years, just shrugged. “She can bet whatever she wants. James bet a watch last year, and we all thought that was fair.”

“But that’s…” Brandon mumbled, looking down at the piece of paper, then back up at me. “Okay, fair enough.”

The two remaining players slid their bills forward in stoic silence, which was punctuated by Mike’s cough. “Lay ’em out.”

I laid my hand down, a smirk on my face. Phillip did the same next to me with a groan. I smirked up at Brandon, ready to take in a pile of coins and bills big enough to put me back in the running. His lip twitched up slightly on the right side, and my smile froze on my face. He laid his cards down face up, and Phil groaned again. Mike just whistled.

“I believe the pot is mine,” Brandon said, and had the decency not to gloat as he did. He pulled the crumpled bills towards himself, and fished my little note off of the pile. “You said I can redeem this…”

“Whenever you want,” I finished for him, the smile back on my face. “Good hand.”

He looked over at Phil again, as if asking for permission. I didn’t blame him, some people were weird about extramarital stuff. Phil shrugged again, looking none too concerned. We’d discussed this possibility beforehand, and I honestly think my Phil was even more excited about the idea of me blowing one of his friends than I was.

“I think I’ll take it now,” Brandon decided. “You boys wanna give us a bit of space?”

Mike guffawed loudly, declaring he needed to hit the head anyhow. Phil got up from the table and wandered over to the minifridge to get another beer for himself, then settled against it to watch us.

Brandon was still at the table across from me, watching me intently with his eyebrow raised as if to ask ‘Well?’

I got up slowly and stepped around the table, putting as much sashay and strut into the walk as I could. Brandon turned slightly in his chair to face me as I came around the table, grinning but also looking nervous, like he thought I might back out.

“I never welch on a deal,” I told him as I got closer. I dropped to one knee in front of him, swept a pistachio shell aside and brought my other knee down so I was kneeling between his legs.

I readjusted my dress slightly to be comfier, and to make sure my cleavage was very well framed with my nipples almost visible above the fabric. “Shit,” he whispered to himself as I settled my hands on his knees.

I slowly slid my palms up the fabric of his trousers, up his thighs, towards where they met. He was already getting hard, the bulge forming in the middle. I passed a palm over it, and felt his cock twitch slightly against my hand. My fingers continued their quest upwards, sliding his zipper down in a deft motion.

I looked up and met his eyes as I reached through the zipper, and through the flap on his underwear. I held his gaze as I guided his erection out of his pants, so that it stood up proudly through the gap I’d made. His pubes and balls were still tucked away, but I had what I needed.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft and slowly dragged it up and then down, feeling his smooth hardness. This was only the second penis I’d held in the last decade that wasn’t Phillip’s. And I was only eighteen when I met Phillip, so I didn’t have many others to compare either of them to. But Brandon’s cock was hard, and I guessed about average in length.

I finally dropped my eyes from Brandon’s intense gaze, and looked at his pretty cock. “So excited,” I cooed at him. “Have you been hoping for this for a while?”

He said nothing, but he didn’t need to. The truth was that I knew Brandon was into me, and had been for years. I hadn’t ever encouraged him but… I certainly never bothered discouraging his interest either.

I gave it another stroke, then leaned forward until my mouth was against it. I kissed the tip of the shaft, and smiled as he gasped. I placed another little kiss just on the underside of the head, then another against his shaft. I kissed the bottom of it, or as close as I could get, and enjoyed the smell of his maleness. I stuck my tongue out and ran it along the underside of his full length until I was back at the head, then completed the motion by sliding my lips over the tip.

He breathed in sharply as I slid the tip of his cock into my mouth, and I smiled all the more.

I looked up from his erection and met his eyes. They were full of lust, desperation, pleading. I held his gaze as I slid my mouth down his shaft. He groaned again, but managed not to close his eyes as I took about half of his length into my mouth.

I kept my eyes on his as I bobbed my head a few times on the top half of his cock, then looked down so I could focus on my work. I relaxed the muscles at the back of my throat and let gravity carry my face down. His cock slid deeper, deeper, deeper into my mouth, and into my throat. I eased myself forward until my nose was pressed against the rough fabric of his denim, and he was all the way into my throat.

“Holy fuck,” I heard someone say. Michael. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, Philly. She really does love cock.” I didn’t really like being talked about like I wasn’t there, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to argue.

I lifted my head back up until the tip of this cock was against my tongue, and took another deep breath. I wrapped my right hand around the base of Brandon’s erection, slowly stroking the meat as I sucked on the tip of him.

“Fuck, Jess,” he groaned plaintively. “It’s been a while for me and I’m not… I’m not gonna…”

Humming a little bit to myself, I set about finishing my husband’s friend. I squeezed tighter with my hand, making small jerking motions, and leaned down until his cock was back into my throat. I bobbed my head, letting my muscles massage his cock, and he groaned.

“Jess, I’m… Fuck,” he grunted, and I felt his whole cock flex as he thrusted his hips up towards me, I kept my hand on his cock to keep him from gagging me, and sucked harder as I moved my head up and down on his slick shaft.

His cock flexed in my hand again, and started pulsing rhythmically as he groaned again. I slid him all the way into my throat and kept stroking the base of his shaft. His cock twitched again, again, and I felt slick heat pump directly into my throat. I couldn’t taste the cum because it was so far down my throat, but I still moaned in appreciation at how erotic this all was. I felt wetness building in me as I deepthroated Brandon in front of my husband, and swallowed his cum.

The twitching stopped, and I slid my head back until just the tip of him was in my mouth again. I sucked at it as I moved my lips, and felt a glob of his salty cum roll onto my tongue. He grunted and twitched as I sucked the liquids off of his cock.

Then I was done. I moved my head back until his cock flopped out of my mouth, and I looked up at Brandon with a big smile on my face. “That was hot,” I told him as I slowly got to my feet.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

I picked a napkin up off of the table and dabbed at the sides of my lips, ever the proper lady. “I think I need another glass of wine.”

Last Hand

Another hour had gone by, and the game wasn’t going my way.

I looked down at my cards again, then back at the table. I had a king and an ace, and no more chips to move. I had at least gotten back the little slip of paper that would have had me blowing someone again if I hadn’t recovered it. With a king and a six in the river, all I had was a pair. To my right, Phil looked nervous, and on the other side Brandon was smiling.

Michael looked almost completely neutral as he slid another bill into the pile. “Raise five,” he said simply. Phil looked at me again, then put in another bill. The two looked at me, and I looked down to the empty space where my money had been.

“So, you fold?” Brandon asked, and I shook my head.

I sighed and stared at the pile of bills in the middle of the table while everyone stirred and waited to see if I was going to walk. But I wasn’t done yet. I picked up my little scrap of paper and scratched out the one word written on there and replaced it with another: “SEX”.

As I slid it over to the pot, Brandon’s eyes widened and I actually heard Phil gasp quietly.

“I raise,” I told them.

We all turned to Phil, and watched him squirm. He glanced over at me, at the slip of paper, at his hand, then back to me. This repeated a few times, and sweat actually beaded on his forehead. “Fuck,” he whispered, looking at his hand one last time then back to my cleavage. He laid the cards flat on the table and shook his head.

It was back to Michael, who looked unphased as ever. He considered his cards and the ones on the table, then slid a handful of bills without really looking at them. Phil quickly mimicked him, pushing about half of his own stack. I called there, and flipped the last card into the river: a king.

I looked at my cards again. Now I had three of a kind, with kings to boot. I stifled a smile, looking at a solid hand. But it wasn’t my turn to bet. Mike looked straight ahead at the pile, and I knew that if I looked, his eyes would be fixed on my paper. He glanced at his hand, and looked nervous for the first time. Then he stiffened up his face and slid the rest of his stack forward. “All in.”

I looked up at Michael, a smile on my face. “I’m already all in.”

Brandon chuckled, but Michael didn’t. “Not quite,” he said with a smirk. “That’s not everything you can risk, is it?”

I looked down at the paper, and the three letters stared back at me. How much did he want? I wanted to pretend I didn’t know, but I’d been listening to his boasting earlier about how he liked his women. I sighed, then picked up my paper. I added one last thing to it: “NO CONDOM.”

I put the slip back on the table and smiled. Phil gasped again, starting to sputter my name. “All in,” I told the assembled boys. “Show me what you’ve got Michael.”

He smiled, finally lowering his mask. “Ladies first.”

I laid my cards down face up, my final hand being three kings, a two, a six, and a four. “We Three Kings, baby,” I taunted.

He nodded slowly, as if considering the situation, then dramatically laid his own hand out. A king and a six. My face dropped as I saw them. “Three kings and two sixes, that’s a full house,” he said, chuckling. “Good game.”

I looked down at my cards, then back to his, then to the pile of money with my little promise, my heart racing all the while. I could distantly hear Phil complaining, trying to weasel his way out of the situation, but it hardly registered. I looked back up at Mike, and found him grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Well, Mike, your place or mine?”

That stopped Phillip dead in his tracks, and the three of us turned to face Michael.

He looked around, as if considering. “Here would probably be just fine.”

He stood up, and I did the same. Again, Phil started complaining, but I flapped a hand at him to shut him up. Michael came around the table, and held out his hand for me. I took it, and he led me across the den to the couch.

He stopped me just before it and turned me around to face him. Then his lips were on mine. I responded before I could even think, my arms going around his neck and my tongue meeting his.

He put his hands on the bottom of my dress and pulled it slightly. “This has gotta go,” he told me, and I couldn’t help but agree. I grabbed the hem and pulled up, removing my clothing in one smooth motion and dropping it to the floor.

Then his lips were on mine again, and his hand found its way onto my breast. I moaned against his mouth as he palmed and gently squeezed my flesh.

I heard someone whisper “Jesus” in the background, but couldn’t tell who it was.

I slid my own hand down his shirt, but I didn’t care about getting that off. I went straight to the front of his jeans, and rubbed my palm down the bulge there. He chuckled, the sound muffled by my mouth, and I kept rubbing him through his jeans. Then I had both hands at the front of his pants, working at his belt. I slid the leather through and opened it, then the button, then the fly. And then I hesitated, not sure I was ready to pull open the pants of another man I barely knew.

Then his mouth was over my ear, his breath sending warm tingles down my spine. “Come on Jessie, don’t you wanna see the prize you won?”

I hooked my fingers under the band of his underwear and jeans, and then pulled them down. I was utterly transfixed by the sight of the material sliding down his legs, and when his meat sprang out I gasped in delight. I felt my hand reach out and grasp his member, as if of its own accord. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he whispered as I wrapped my hand around its width. “There’s a good girl. You wanna give that a little taste?”

I didn’t really, but I felt like I was acting under someone else’s volition. I dropped slowly to my knees, until I was level with his beast. It wasn’t any longer than Phil’s, or at least not by much, but it was half again as wide.

I held the thing in my hand, and gently pressed my lips against it, as if giving it a kiss. Then I gradually parted my lips and pushed forward, sliding it slowly into my mouth. He groaned as the head passed my lips, and I set about blowing my second strange cock of the night. I bobbed my head slightly, moving the tip back and forth pasy my lips, while swiping my tongue along the underside. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself as I sucked harder, slowly working the shaft deeper with each pass.

“Look at me,” he said, and I obliged. His shirt was gone, though I don’t remember it happening, and he was grinning again as he watched me. “You look so pretty with a cock in your mouth, Jess. What is it about blondes and looking so good when they blow you?”

I heard Brandon laugh in the background, and felt my face flush. The situation had quickly gone from bad to humiliating, but I felt the same warmth spread down through my core.

He put his hands on the sides of my face, holding me steady as he thrust his cock into my mouth. “Why don’t you tell me how much you like it, Jess,” he suggested. Again I complied, humming my agreement as he pushed his cock deeper into my throat. This earned a grunt of approval from him, and a cheer from Brandon.

One hand I wrapped around his waist, clutching his ass, and the other I used to stroke his shaft while I sucked on the tip. “Fuck, Jess,” he exclaimed as I worked both forms of stimulation on him.

Before I could get even more into it, he pulled back and away, and his long cock slipped out of my lips with a popping noise. “Holy shit,” he whispered to himself, “you’re fucking phenomenal.”

I took a moment to pass the back of my hand across my mouth, wiping away the string of spit.

“I could nearly have let you just suck me ’til I blew,” he said, smirking down at me, “but I didn’t win a blowjob, did I? Do you remember what I won?”

I didn’t answer right away, and he grinned down at me and waited. “Sex,” I finally managed to whisper.

“Sex,” he agreed. “Now why don’t you get on up?”

I put a hand on the couch and got back to my feet in front of him. But no sooner did I have my feet than he put his hands on my side and spun me, so that I was facing away from him and towards the couch, and the room beyond. I was facing my husband now, whose face was a mixture of lust and concern as Michael leaned in close to me. I could feel his cock pressing against my ass as he pulled me back against him. Then his calloused hand was on my side, working its way across my chest.

Even as his hand found my breast, his mouth found the side of my neck. I breathed in sharply as his lips pressed against my neck. I hardly even noticed as his fingers slid over my nipple, playing with the firm nub. His hand stayed where it was but his mouth moved up, kissing along my jaw.

Then his mouth was on the shell of my ear and my eyes shut of their own accord. My consciousness was reduced to the heat of his breath on my ear, the gentle graze of his teeth. Distantly, I was aware of him kneading my breast, and of his other hand drifting down my stomach. His lips traveled down to my earlobe, and his fingers played along the narrow band of my panties. I moaned quietly and pressed back against him, keenly aware of his heat on my flesh. Then the tips of his fingers pressing against the thin fabric that barely covered my pussy, stroking along the ridges he could feel through the material.

It was all I could do to remain standing as his lips moved behind my ear to that sensitive flesh, and as his fingers slid aside the small triangle of fabric to expose my wetness.

I gasped slightly as his teeth scraped my skin again, and then my breath caught as I suddenly felt his finger press along the exposed fold of my labia. I became keenly aware of the precise motions of my hand as he played along my sensitive skin, gently circling the entrance to my vagina. Then his finger was pressing against me and I had to stifle the desperate sound trying to come out of my mouth.

My legs were watery, like they refused to keep me standing, and I leaned back harder against him for support. He just chuckled quietly, and slowly slid his finger into me. I bit my lip and kept my eyes screwed tight, trying not to cry out. The slow buildup was intoxicating, but I willed him to hurry.

If he could read my mind, he chose not to heed my request. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved his digit, sinking into my depths. Then he moved it, just as slowly, back the way it had come. “Do you like that,” he asked as he finger-fucked me in aching slowness.

My only answer was to reach a hand down between us and seize his cock. It was still wet from my mouth, and I slowly started stroking it again.

“She’s so wet,” Michael said, this time addressing the other two guys. “Man, she’s just aching to be fucked. I bet you she’s been waiting for this since the night started.”

I opened my eyes again, and saw both men staring transfixed at me. Brandon couldn’t seem to get enough of the sight of my tits, and the way they dimpled under Michael’s grasp. That didn’t surprise me much, seeing as how he was always trying to catch sight of them whenever he thought I wasn’t looking. Which is why I always made a habit of wearing tight shirts or a deep v-neck whenever he was around.

Phil, on the other hand, was staring straight at my crotch, where Mike’s hand was actively enjoying my body. Where the hand that was currently fingering his wife of five years. He stared at that questing finger as it slid along my lip again. Then Michael rubbed it over my nub, and my eyes shut of their own accord.

He was slick with my juices, and I felt another flush of embarrassment at how wet he’d gotten me before even laying a hand on me. But I made no complaint at that lubricant helping him circle my clit, stroking that sensitive nerve bundle. I stroked him as best I could, in spite of the awkward angle, and worked on not collapsing.

Then he was using two fingers, and I felt tension tighten in my middle as the sensations built. My knees shivered as my center flared like fire, and I opened my eyes again to find both guys still staring at me. My eyes drifted down and found that they were both enjoying the show.

Somehow, having both onlookers be so turned on by my show was a turn-on in and of itself, even if Phil looked as worried as he was horny.

Then Mike’s mouth was by my ear again, whispering. “Why don’t you bend over?” His breath on my ear sent goosebumps down my neck, and I felt myself starting to lean over almost instinctively. I laid both hands on the couch and bent forward until my head was on level with my ass. His finger quit its job for just a moment, and then I felt my panties slide down over the curve of my waist, and down my ass. It dropped away, and then both of his hands were on me. One held my hip, while his right hand was stroking my wet pussy lips.

Then his finger was replaced with another presence, this one much wider. He gently pressed himself against me, slowly applying pressure with the tip of his cock.

He was thicker than I was used to, but I was wet enough that he had little resistance. I felt my lips spread, and the wide tip slipped past them. My pussy immediately stretched, and the skin stung slightly at the sudden intrusion. “Fuck,” I said, mostly to myself.

He paused, letting me breathe for a moment, and laughed to himself. Then he pushed forward again, and I felt my body expand before him. His presence was unignorable and unmistakable, but not unpleasurable.

He pressed until he slid all the way home, and I could feel his tip pressed against a wall he could not move.

We sighed in unison, our bodies deeply and intimately connected. Then he shifted his hips, and his thick length twitched in me. His next motion was a slow reversal, and I felt my slick walls grip him like a fist as his shaft moved smoothly back. He pushed in again, still agonizingly slowly, and a moan spilled out of my mouth as he pressed himself home again. It really did feel like home, like his body was meant to be there – like I was meant to spread open before him.

He pulled back and pushed in again in a smooth motion, and my pussy readily parted and adjusted around him. Again he was pulling back, and again he pushed forward. I looked up and made eye contact with my husband as his friend’s cock slid into my eager body.

“You’re so fucking wet and tight, Jess,” Michael told me as he bottomed out again. “I was worried you weren’t really into this, or that you were going to cop out at the last minute, but you really did want this didn’t you?”

I said nothing, just dropped my head down to hide my face as he gripped my hips and thrust into me again.

“Your pussy grips me like a glove,” he went on, obviously not worried about my lack of answer. Or maybe my body’s reactions to him were answer enough. “I don’t think you’ve ever taken a cock this big. No offense to Phil, but maybe you’re not getting what you need at home.”

He punctuated that last with another deep thrust, harder and faster this time. I couldn’t help the little whimper of pleasure that escaped my lips, which just spurred him on. I was glad my head was down so I couldn’t see my Phil’s face.

Michael pulled back and thrust harder, and my body shook with the force of his motion.

“Fuck, you love how I feel, don’t you?” He was moving faster now, but each motion was still even, controlled, rhythmic. I got the feeling he could go all night if he wanted.

One of his hands stayed where it was, clutching my hip and pulling me into him to meet his movements, while the other snaked forward. I gasped as I felt his finger on my clit again, and felt my whole body flush as he started rubbing that sensitive spot. His fingers were deft, precise, and timed perfectly with his thrusts. I knew then that he wasn’t exaggerating before when he boasted about how much sex he has – this guy was a fucking pro, and I felt my body responding eagerly to his touch.

His thrusts were hard and even, and my body rocked with the motion. I thrust my own ass back against him, all worries forgotten. His fingers kept up their steady beat, strumming across my sensitive nerve bundle as his hips kept up their motion.

“Fuck,” I moaned for the second time since he had entered me. I felt lines of heat rushing up and building in my core. “Fuck, oh fuck.”

Michael leaned over me until his mouth was at my ear. “I know you love it, Jess,” he said between thrusts. “Give in to it. Show us all how much you like it.”

Part of me didn’t want to orgasm, didn’t want to give Mike the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected me, but the rest of me was too busy revelling in the glorious sensations to care. I felt an anticipation build further in me, like my whole body was tensing up and waiting for something. The pleasure built, and built, and built, sensation piling up until it was a mountain inside of me. It built with each thrust, and each movement of his finger. It built up until finally…

“Oh fuck,” I cried as the orgasm exploded over me. I threw back my head and moaned out loudly as the ball of pleasure in my core exploded outwards. All of the muscles in my body twitched and writhed as Michael fucked me in front of my husband.

The other two boys just stared as I quivered and shook, moaning through my orgasm. I would have been embarrassed if I hadn’t been too busy enjoying one of the biggest orgasms of my life.

Michael’s thrusts slowed as I came down from the high, then stopped altogether. I spent a moment panting, taking stock of myself. My legs were shaking, barely able to hold me up, and my whole body was tingly. But it didn’t feel like he’d finished inside of me…

“You look like you can barely stand, Jess,” Michael said, sounding oh-so-pleased with himself. “Let’s get you down on that couch.”

His cock slid out of me, leaving an aching hollow sensation in its wake. I let him direct me to the couch and lay me down on my back. He followed right behind me, lowering himself onto the couch over top of me.

His mouth was on mine and I kissed him eagerly, even as I felt his thick erection pressing against my middle. His hands roamed again, squeezing one breast and then the other. Then he was nudging my legs apart, and I obeyed, spreading myself before him.

He knelt there a moment, his cock in hand, looking down at my naked form. “Shit, Jess,” he muttered, drinking me in. “You’re so fucking hot with your pussy bare and wet. Did you shave it just for me?”

I didn’t answer, just stared up at him. He grinned anyway, as if I’d agreed with him.

He grabbed one of the throw pillows, then scooped me up by my waist. I gasped in surprise as he lifted my ass, then put the pillow under it. “The angle’s a little nicer this way, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Then he was lowering himself again, spreading my legs further apart, and I couldn’t bring myself to argue. He pressed the tip of his manhood against me, and this time there was no guesswork and no waiting – he pushed forward immediately, and I moaned as he slid back into me.

“Don’t you think it’s enough?” My husband Philip asked, somewhere in the background. “You don’t really need to like… finish inside of her, right?” Mike didn’t answer Phil, and all I could do was gasp quietly as Mike pulled back and thrust in again. “Jess, maybe you could just finish him with your hand? We’re not – you’re not… there’s no protection.”

I ignored Phillip’s whining as Mike thrust forward again, again. The world was reduced down to his body above me, and the feeling of him pushing into me. My body opened before him, and gripped him like a fist as he rubbed along my innermost walls. It was delicious, and I couldn’t seem to get enough.

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered as Mike’s pace picked up. Again and again he slammed into me, and my body quivered at each motion. “Fuck.”

Then Mike’s lips were on mine again, and I couldn’t speak. I moaned eagerly into his mouth and pushed my hips up, meeting each of his thrusts with my own. What was I doing making out with someone other than my husband? Why was I letting his uncovered cock push into me – when had I become such a slut? I knew that each motion pushed him closer to his inevitable climax, and I knew that I shouldn’t let him cum in me. Not only was it insanely risky, but Phil might never forgive me, might never be able to look at me the same again. What the hell was I thinking? If Mike fucked me raw, if he came in me, he might knock me up right here. I could walk out of this room carrying a baby belonging to someone other than my husband.

But I didn’t care.

I wrapped my legs around the back of Mike’s thighs, spurring him on, on. He thrust faster, harder, and the wet slapping sounds of our bodies was almost drowned out by my muffled moans. One of his hands was behind my head, holding me as we kissed, while the other roamed up my leg and clenched my hip. My own hands were roaming down his back, feeling, squeezing. I could feel his muscles bunch and shift as he pumped his hips again, his cock sliding deep into me in perfect rhythm with my own motions.

Delicious heat flowed through my body, and I focused wholly on the sensations. I wasn’t building towards another climax, but the constant sensations rolled through me as he buried himself were delicious all by themselves.

He was thrusting even faster now, a blur of motion. Each move out blended with the thrust back in, until it was a single wall of sensation. I threw my head back and moaned, letting my pleasure be heard. As I did, Mike’s mouth closed on my neck, teeth grazing against the tender flesh that I presented – it only turned me on more, and I arched my back to press into him.

His thrusts changed in tempo, from fast and controlled to slower and erratic. Slap, slap, slap-slap-slap, slap, slap, slap-slap-slap-slap, slap. I knew, instinctively, how close he was getting, and how hard he was trying to hold off for even one more moment. He was edging, using my pussy to boost his sensations without quite going over the edge, wanting to savor me as long as possible.

I wrapped my legs tighter around him and pulled him against me, squeezing my vaginal muscles at the same time. The sudden tight grip threw off his rhythm, and I heard his breath catch as I pulled him as hard against me as I could.

He made small thrusting motions still, and I pumped and writhed my hips, using my body to give him the last sensations to push him over the edge. I was successful, and as he drove himself forward again I felt the twitch inside of me as his cock started throbbing. I pulled him against me as he impaled himself in my tight embrace.

There, in that moment when he was pressed in as close as he could be, I felt the first wave of liquid heat douse my core. His cock was right against my innermost wall, with nowhere to go, as that burst of cum erupted from him. I swear I could almost feel the sticky rope splatter against my inner seal as he twitched and groaned. He pulled back slightly before driving in again, perfectly in time with another surge of his cum. I knew he had been lying before when he said he didn’t care if he had knocked that woman up – he wanted to impregnate someone. His cock twitched and pulsed, loosing another wave of seed, which my body hungrily took in, and I knew he wanted nothing more than to breed as many women as he could. I moaned in appreciation at the feeling of another pulse of heat spreading from his body into mine.

I wanted it all. I couldn’t get enough, and it seemed like he couldn’t either as we rocked together, our bodies writhing together as he came inside of me. This fertile, virile man held me tightly against him as he desperately unloaded his seed into me. I was spread out, receptive, and angled up beneath him, so there was nowhere else for the cum to go. With my angle, gravity only helped draw each drop of his semen down into my body. Not a drop escaped as he pushed against me.

He thrust with small motions, sloshing the cum against me again and again. His cock twitched faintly again, then finally stopped, but he kept fucking me for another few moments, pushing that pool of cum into me with each motion. Finally he stopped, and I realized we’d both been holding our breath. Mine came out in a great whoosh of air while Mike panted, but still neither of us moved. We wanted this moment, this connection, to last just a little longer.

Then he sighed, breaking the moment. He pulled back without ceremony, I heard a slight wet pop as his cock slid out of me. “Well,” he said as he stood up from the couch, “good game, boys.”

I just laid there, dazed, unable to move. I’d just been fucked for all I was worth, and had what felt like a gallon of cum sitting in me. I decided then I was never going to use a condom again in my life, no matter the risks.

“We good for next weekend?” Mike asked, looking at the other two men.

“No, I’m out of town,” Brandon answered, as if this were just a normal conversation and Michael wasn’t in the middle of tucking his cum-slicked cock back into his pants.