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The Cheating Game


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It's just a teasing game that Clare and Paul play, isn't it? What if it didn't stop?

It was a game we played, and nothing more. Some flighty teases here, some forbidden glimpses there, dropping my purse and bending over, making sure my short dress rode up to reveal more of creamy thighs and butt cheeks than considered proper or allowing greedy, foreign hands to linger on my body far too long, all that was part of the secret, thrilling game we used to play whenever we were spending evenings mingling with ‘society’. These games, they always ended with Paul’s arms encircling me from behind and leaving an aroused and frustrated pursuer in my wake.

For me, it was the thrill of the forbidden, and I guessed it was the same for Paul. We always had the best - the roughest, hottest - sex after those nights. Once I was back in his embrace, we couldn’t wait to get inside our home and fuck like rabbits, both too worked up for any foreplay.

Sometimes, Paul would let me dangle and allow my suitor’s hand to wander all the way under my skirt. He’d watch from reasonable distance how arousal and embarrassment warred inside me, drink in my flushed cheeks and breathless, half-hearted, ineffective protests against their advances.

And then came that one night. I had noticed that Paul had lately let our game get more daring, only intervening when the next step would make it inevitable to keep my implied promises of more than touches, but he had deflected my slightly fearful questions with scorching kisses that never failed to derail any thoughts.

We were in J’s bar, a lovely and expensive bar attached to an even more expensive hotel that was therefore free of riff-raff.

“What’s the rule,” he whispered into my ear and gently nuzzled that soft spot above my collarbone that he knew made my knees weak.

“Always say yes,” I whispered back, breathless excitement welling up inside my chest, while I plucked the glass of champagne from his hand.

“Good,” he growled and pinched my bum, not caring if we were seen, and I had to clutch the champagne flute hard to keep from spilling it. “Over there, next to the bar. What do you think?”

My gaze followed where his finger pointed. My breath hitched. Not because of the handsome gentleman in his early fifties though. “Paul,” I hissed between clenched teeth.

“What?” he replied as if nothing was out of the ordinary, then winked at me with that slightly lopsided grin which - he knew that all too well - never failed to make my knees week.

“He’s got company with him!” And what company it was. A sophisticated looking, beautiful lady around his age - I don’t normally use the term ‘lady’, but she was - sat next to him on a barstool, and the relaxed way his hand rested on her thigh told that they weren’t mere acquaintances.

I shielded my mouth with my forearm, pretending to hold up the flute and inspect it. “Are you crazy?”

“You know I am, but that’s neither here nor there,” he whispered into my ear, then nibbled on my earlobe. He knew it was my weak spot. “So again, what’s the rule?”

“Always say yes.” A shudder raced through my body, and I wasn’t sure I could do this.

But the moment I made my decision to go through with our harebrained game, my role settled over me like a well-worn coat. My shoulders went up, and that light, determined spring came into my steps. My heels clicked evenly when I bridged the twenty feet across the room, and my expensive burgundy evening dress with the deep v-cut swung around my hips.

While I approached them, I took the time to take in their appearances. He was wearing black suit trousers, expensive ones, too. The material flowed easily, not bunching up anywhere, and it allowed me to make an educated estimate that he hit the fitness studio a lot. Wide shoulders, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a tan that went down into the small V of the opened upper two buttons - yes, he was in good shape. At the moment, he only had eyes for the woman on his side.

The woman - lady - wore a classic little black dress with shoulder strings. The skirt’s hem went down halfway to her knees, and she could really afford to show off her legs in the sheer stockings and three-inch sandals. The rings around her wrist weren’t cheap. Spirals of gold were intricately woven around sea green stones. Her nail polish matched that green perfectly, and it told me enough so I judged her as adventurous. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing though.

But I was almost there, and they looked at me simultaneously. “Good evening,” I greeted them, lifting up my flute a little and smiling at them, “I don’t think I have seen you around here. Are you here for the first time? My name’s Clare.”

I held out my hand to the man. If I’d had misgivings that they might consider me an intruder, I had been wrong.

He smiled brightly at me, taking my hand with a firm, determined grip. “Jeffrey. Jeffrey Huntings.”

Yes, there it was. That warm, knee-jerking feeling when he held my hand just a moment too long and looked into my eyes a little too deeply. “Nice to meet you,” I breathed.

I managed not to let my breath flutter when I turned towards her. She had to have noticed the flirting, so her reaction now was going to make or break the evening, but there wasn’t a hint of irritation in her face either. “Monique,” she introduced herself, taking my hand and smiling at me. “Tell me, what’s a beautiful young lady like you doing here all alone?”

Alarm bells went off in my head, turning into a loud chaos when her thumb brushed lightly over the back of my hand and my knees once again wanted to dip. I almost turned around to look for Paul. I had never had any feelings for women, and he knew it. I was going to need him to rescue me soon, very soon.

But turning away now would be impolite. “I’m waiting for my husband,” I told her, trying to keep my hand from trembling when I pulled it back. “I don’t know when - if - he’ll come.” It was the usual spiel. “Work,” I explained with a shrug and the often practiced smile.

“Oh, it would be a shame if a beautiful young woman like you had to be all alone, come sit with us.” Monique’s grip on my upper arm was only light, but it froze me in place. “Be a dear and fetch another bar stool for our new friend,” she commanded softly.

A moment later, another stool was put in place between the others, and Jeffrey helped me up by my elbow. Once he was seated on his own again, my heartbeat sped up.

My barstool was placed so close between theirs that our legs couldn’t escape touching. I felt both their body heat on my thighs, and the heat seemed to travel upwards and right between them. I used to be the seducer, the detached one. Now, though, I suddenly felt like nervous teenager on her first night out.

“Your dress is stunning,” Monique complimented me, lifting up her wine glass. “Let’s drink to new friendships.”

“To new friendships,” both Jeffrey and I echoed her words and we clinked our glasses together.

“It’s actually not the first time we’re here, but it’s been at least three years since we had the chance to come here regularly,” Monique explained.

“Three years and eight months, to be precise,” Jeffrey corrected with a small chuckle. “We used to come here a lot, but then work took us abroad.”

“So you’re only visiting here?”

“No, we’re back for good since last month. We’re staying in the hotel above the bar for now. It’s only the second time we’ve found the time to go out since then, though.” Jeffrey swirled his glass, looking thoughtfully at it. “It’s funny, because it’s also the second time we’re here since we came back, and the last time, we couldn’t help but watch a beautiful, young woman flirt rather obviously with a handsome man.”

My heartbeat started to race, and the room suddenly became rather hot. A hand touched the inside of my knee, Jeffrey’s hand, and when I looked at his face, his eyes were twinkling.

“The poor man,” Monique took up where he left off, “couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she even encouraged him rather blatantly. At first, we thought they were freshly married. Imagine our surprise when a man who had been watching them for more than an hour walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her.” Monique’s hand touched my other knee, and my breath hitched. “He even wore a matching wedding ring to hers.”

She took a sip of her red wine, closing her eyes and sighing in delight. When she looked at me again, a teasing gleam filled them.

“You’re a very naughty girl,” Jeffrey growled quietly next to me, and then both their hands were slowly moving up my thighs and taking my skirt’s hem with them.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. My skin tingled where they touched it, and I felt unable to move.

“Why did you let that man touch you so lewdly,” Monique whispered in my ear.

I needed to run, run as fast as I could. Cool air played over my exposed thighs, and any moment, their fingers would reach their top and…

“Tell me,” Monique whispered again, and then her teeth captured my earlobe and nibbled on it.

My resistance melted in an instant. “It’s a game,” I gasped, “just a game!”

“And what are the rules,” Jeffrey asked, gently squeezing my thigh and shooting waves of forbidden delight through my lower body.

“I mustn’t say no!” I clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late. God, how stupid could I be?

Monique grinned brightly. I tried to stand up, but right at that moment, their fingertips brushed over my crotch, and all I could do was suck in a whistling breath and contain the moan. The gusset of my lace panties grew damp. This wasn’t the game we used to play!

“Jeffrey’s been dreaming of you ever since the first time we saw you.” Monique kept up her whispering. Fingers rubbed over my pussy lips, slipped inside my panties and felt the moisture there. She went for the kill. “Do you want him to fuck you?”

At first, I couldn’t speak. The enormity of the moment squeezed the air out of my lungs like a huge, iron vice, and I sat frozen, eyes wide and frightened like a deer’s in the headlights. I waited for the safety of Paul’s strong arms, started to speak, halted, but the time stretched like tough syrup, and finally I had to admit that this time, the game’s stakes had risen.

“Yes,” I finally gasped, trembling from head to toe, my voice little more than a whimper - a whimper which I involuntarily followed with a real one when a strong finger pushed shamelessly inside me past smooth, slick walls and stirred up a blazing fire.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Jeffrey growled. Monique had leaned over the counter to whisper to the barkeeper, and now she was scribbling something on a sheet of paper. Jeffrey’s finger crooked inside me and I almost slipped off the barstool. “She’s just as hot for you as I am. She’s a devious, dirty girl in bed. Do you want to make love to her?”

Monique had meanwhile handed the paper and a cash note to the barkeeper, and now two pairs of eyes were once more watching me intently. I had never made love to a woman, never even, in all my debauched, horny games, felt the tiniest temptation. It felt wrong and dirty just to think about it.

She licked her lips, ever so slowly, her rosy tongue travelling over dark red, shiny lips. She winked at me, and her hand slid up my thighs once more. Her gaze bore into mine and her index finger found my clit, slowly circling it.

Her next words took my breath away. “Do you want to be my whore?”

Blazing fire turned into white-hot inferno. I teetered on the edge of cumming, right here in the middle of the crowded bar, and only one magic word could earn me some reprieve.

“Yes,” I gasped again and her finger’s motion stopped, as did Jeffrey’s. I took a few calming breaths and wiped away the sheen of sweat that had sprung up on my forehead.

Monique looked me up and down with a sly grin. “I guess this isn’t how the game is normally played.”

“No,” I admitted. “It - it should never have gone this far.”

“And yet it will go much further.”

I had no idea how to respond. The breathless, all-encompassing need from a minute earlier was now mixed with an embarrassment that permeated every fiber of my being. My heart beat erratically. My palms were sweaty. Disbelief battled with a forbidden, guilty arousal.

A whimper escaped me instead of words when Jeffrey’s finger withdrew from my soggy pussy and painted a depraved, moist line down my thigh, His free hand cupped my chin and turned my head to his, forced me to meet his hungry gaze which reached directly into the darkest recesses of my mind.

“Do you want to take off your dirty, soaked, naughty panties, right here and now?”

Dirty words always get me going. It was as if he could read every depraved little thought. Yet taking them off in public was unthinkable. Even further beyond contemplation was letting them see those panties, that naughty, depraved little secret that was part of the game. I slowly shook my head, unable to look away from Jeffrey’s hypnotizing, dark brown eyes, and whimpered, “Yes!” I wasn’t allowed to say no while I played the game.

“Lift your bum.”

I propped myself up on the balls of my hands. Their hands roamed over my hips, and like a well-practiced duet, slid the fabric down over my bum cheeks then along my thighs in one drawn-out, shameful caress.

I shivered. They slipped over my knees and pooled around my ankles. Jeffrey put one hand on my back and raised an eyebrow, all the signal I needed. The game had been figured out, so there was no need to wait for his veiled command.

I pulled up my legs, ignoring the possible - even likely - stares from around and wiggled the black lace over my heels, bunching them up in my hand and feeling my cheeks heat up to boiling point.

Monique’s well-manicured, green-nailed finger tapped a slow rhythm on the counter that drew my eyes to it. She didn’t mean I should... but yes, she meant it. Her soft nod confirmed it.

Fresh sweat broke out on my forehead. “Please,” I pleaded quietly.

She smiled gently. “Do I have to ask?”

What could I do? My fingers shook, and I almost dropped the panties, but in a determined effort, I managed to ignore the gut-wrenching shame and unfold them on the counter, brushing out the wrinkles and sitting back with hitching breath.

“Oh god,” I whispered and looked at the floor, because there was another condemning evidence of my secret depravity, now bared to their eyes, and I could hear Jeffrey chuckle and Monique giggle in delight when they took in the sparkling, elegant sequin letters at the front of the gusset, letters I had never expected anybody but Paul to read.

Slut.

“Let’s go to our room.”

Panic gripped me at Jeffrey’s words, but before I knew it, he had helped me from the barstool. Instinctively, my hand shot out for my panties, but he caught my wrist. “Don’t you think we should leave that as a little tip?”

My feet trembled, my hands shook, but I simply hung my head and let myself get steered across the room by Jeffrey’s hand on my bottom. Hands on my bottom, short feels of my tits, perhaps an equally short moment of brushing against my panties’ gusset - that had been the most I had allowed others in the teasing game to date. That was about to change, and with the inevitability of a countdown before a rocket launch, every step towards the exit made my heart beat faster.

Just before we crossed the threshold, I turned around and searched for Paul, letting my eyes roam along the free wall where he’d normally be leaning with that amused, self-assured smile on his lips which always made my knees weak.

He wasn’t there. And then the soft ding of an elevator sounded, followed by the swooshing of its doors, Jeffrey pinched my bottom and I stumbled inside. Monique pushed the button for the twelfth floor and I leaned against the polished metal wall, suddenly trembling in high frequency.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” I gasped, staring at both of them alternatingly, pleading them with my eyes to give me some time to breathe and get my thoughts in order. The elevator started moving, and the short, unsettling feeling perfectly matched my inner turmoil.

Monique stepped to my left and Jeffrey to my right. The air grew thick and hot. Then their hands were once more on my thighs and travelling upwards to my now naked pussy.

“No!” I gasped and spread my legs to allow them access to that hot, forbidden part. “Yes!” I whimpered when two sets of fingers brushed over my labia, teased their way between the soft flaps of skin and tickled all the perfect spots.

The hands travelled further upwards and took the fabric of my dress with them. “Nooo!” I couldn’t let them undress me here in the public elevator, where anybody might see me! Monique pointed above her shoulder with a finger, and I noticed the black, round lens of a camera pointing directly at me. I grew dizzy and lifted my arms, allowing Jeffrey to slide the dress completely off. My chest heaved and my breath whistled over my lips. Shame rolled in waves down my body, and I hated the delicious heat it stirred in my pussy.

The thick, musky scent of arousal filled the elevator. I couldn’t believe that I let them do that. My black lace bra, mid-thigh stockings and thin-striped stiletto sandals were the only things I was wearing, and they covered little. My pussy was in plain view for the world to see, swollen and wet, and I could only pray that nobody would be outside the moment the elevator door opened.

“I told you she would be perfect,” Monique whispered to Jeffrey while she folded my dress and stowed it in her large designer purse.

“She is,” Jeffrey answered and ran his fingers teasingly under the seam of one bra cup. I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy and hearing the blood rushing in my ears, free-falling into a depraved abyss. He pulled down the cup and my breast spilled over it. A drop of sweat trickled from my temple.

He gently massaged it, and Monique’s fingernails caressed burning lines of need up my thigh. “A proper slut,” she whispered into my ear and I shuddered.

Ding.

I froze. The doors slid apart in slow motion. The corridor was empty! I breathed a sigh of relief. Monique took my hand, and I stumbled after them, as good as naked and on wobbly knees.

I hadn’t watched at which floor we stopped, so I was caught unawares and taken aback by the grandiosity of their room. Strike that. Suite. One wall was almost completely made from glass, and it looked out over the smaller houses and allowed us to see the lights along the river a mile away. The floor of the suite was dark hardwood, shiny and elegant. At one wall, a huge four-poster bed stood, and on the opposite side there was a huge sunken jacuzzi. The room was big enough to hold a dance party for ten couples and had to cost them a fortune. Paul’s income wasn’t shabby by any means, but this was far above what we could afford.

I was ripped from my musings by Jeffrey’s hands roaming up my back and his mouth kissing a hot trail up the side of my neck. My skin trembled under his touch while I watched Monique slip off her dress. My eyes must have widened when I saw that her body had been completely naked underneath, and her B-cup breasts looked as firm and even as those of a woman twenty years her junior. She apparently recognized my look.

“Boob job. One of the upsides of having money,” she explained with a little shrug while she folded the little black dress and laid it on the dresser, but then a gleam came into her eyes and she sashayed towards me. She had an all-over tan without the tiniest hint of bikini lines, and I couldn’t help but feel attracted by the rhythmic swaying of her hips and determined footsteps.

She was only an arm’s length away when the clasp of my bra sprung open, and as if choreographed, she reached out and pulled it down my arms. My heartbeat once more began to fly when she threw it over her shoulder and took one more step towards me. I watched her tight nipples approach mine, filled with nervous fascination and a mounting disbelief that I let this happen. The moment when our breasts touched was electric. She cupped my cheek and tilted my head up so we were looking eye to eye.

A heat blossomed in my chest and made my lips tremble. She leaned forward ever so slowly and her hand roamed from my cheek behind my head in a possessive gesture that only Paul was allowed - normally, that is - and for a moment I wondered where he was, but then her lips touched mine and urged them apart. Her thigh wiggled its way between my legs and pressed against my core, slowly rubbing back and forth, and we moaned needily into each other’s mouth. I gasped when her other hand gripped my bum cheek and squeezed.

Until five minutes ago I had still carried a little delusional hope that it might not be too late, that Paul might, somehow, step around the corner and put a halt to everything, but now I realized with crystalline clarity that this wouldn’t happen - and that I had agreed to go all the way on my own volition. Monique's hand pressed my pelvis hard against her thigh. She knew exactly what she was doing, keeping my body occupied so my mind couldn’t stray too far, and I submitted to her ministrations and let my tongue dance around hers.

It felt strange to kiss a woman, softer, the scent in my nose flowery and light instead of spicy and heavy, but she was a patient and brilliant kisser. Her tongue teased, fluttered and tickled, and her lips brushed, tickled and nibbled in constantly new variations. The heat between my thighs became a veritable maelstrom and my breathing flew.

I hadn’t even noticed that we had been moving, but she had slowly guided us backwards to the bed. Only when she sat down on it did I become aware. I tried to follow her movement, entranced by the sexual play that gone directly past all my hang-ups and insecurities, but two strong hands gripped my hips and held me in place. Then one hand slid around me and covered my moist mound, and the other one pushed down on my back.

It was clear what Jeffrey wanted, and I couldn’t find a reason to protest. Monique slid a little backwards and pulled up her legs, transforming from the alluring lady who had seduced me so effortlessly into a woman of pure need, her glistening, rosy folds open before me and crying out to be kissed.

It was a first - but so was feeling a stranger’s cock push against my opening, gently parting my folds and giving me a little taste of the firm stiffness that was about to enter me. My pussy burned with desire where his cock touched it, and I leaned forward without second thought, letting my tongue lick a wet trail along the inside of Monique’s thigh, tasting hints of rose soap overlaid by something much more intimate and drawing a pleasured moan from her beautiful lips. The moment my tongue delved between her folds and licked up the first taste of musky, feminine arousal, Jeffrey pushed all the way inside me.

I gasped into Monique’s rosy pussy, almost climaxing from the single, unexpected thrust that pushed my pussy walls aside and filled me up so perfectly. His balls slapped against my nether lips, and then he was pulling out against and driving his cock home once more. I moaned, but Monique’s fingers in my hair reminded me to keep licking. I stuck out my tongue as far as I could and licked in fast, long strokes from that soft spot of skin under her pussy all the way up over her growing clit.

Pure carnality took over, and I was reduced to my stretched, pulsing, pounded pussy and my eager mouth that worshipped Monique’s temple of desire. When I had sex with Paul, we talked and took our time, communicated with little touches and looks, but this had nothing of that intimate trust. All my inhibitions got dissolved in rhythmic slaps and moans, in naughty scent and forbidden taste.

Jeffrey became a wild bull. His powerful fucking rocked my body and forced me to grip Monique's thighs hard to keep my lips in place. I was used for pleasure and I reveled in that realization. Her moans grew faster and higher, and her hips undulated to follow the movements of my tongue. I got daring and pushed a finger inside her, feeling it instantly, tightly engulfed by slick walls that clenched in time with my licks.

“Ohhh!” she moaned. “Yes, whore! Another one!”

My second finger went in just as easily, and then I was finger-fucking her in rhythm with the huge cock filling my pussy, hard and fast, and her hips started to tremble. I wasn’t silent myself, grunting and moaning in passion, but suddenly her back arched high off the bed and she threw back her head.

“Ohhhh fuckkk! Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Yes!” she cried out, and for a moment I thought the whole hotel would hear her orgasmic screams.

Jeffrey halted his motions, halfway buried in my snatch, and I stilled my fingers too. I tried to hump back against his cock, but his hands on my hips kept me steadfast.

I whispered, “Please,” wanting to feel that same intense pleasure that had enraptured Monique, but they ignored me. Her chest flew and she only slowly calmed down from her high, writhing and moaning.

When her breathing had evened out, she climbed across the bed, sat down on the opposite edge and patted the center. “Get up here, my pretty whore,” she ordered softly.

I didn’t want to lose the feeling of Jeffrey’s cock inside me, but I followed along, sighing in disappointment. She guided me with her hands until I was on all fours and facing the opposite wall, and she unashamedly ran her fingers up the insides of my moist thighs and made me push them apart. Jeffrey joined us on the bed, climbing up behind me, and I couldn’t wait for him to resume our fucking.

Monique distracted me. “I’ve got something special for you.”

“What?”

“You’ll see. But first -” She looked me hard in the eyes, and I was caught once more in their seductive power. “- do you want Jeffrey to fuck your ass?”

I started to hyperventilate. “But… You can’t… I’ve never…”

“You’ve never behaved like a real whore and cheated on your husband either, have you?”

I couldn’t answer. The idea of that huge, thick organ penetrating my ass was frightening. Sometimes, Paul deviously tended to stick a finger inside my bum and wiggle it, the pure naughtiness of such an act sending me over the edge faster than I could moan, “Yes,” but I had never been fucked there. Yet I couldn’t deny the heat that filled my pussy at the thought and the tingling feeling all over my skin, nor the fluttering in my chest. Monique, despite us having only met, seemed to know me inside out. She grinned wickedly, and when she parted her lips to speak, I knew what was coming.

“Do you want Jeffrey to fuck your ass?” she asked once more, slowly, accompanied with soft nods, and I felt my pussy gush and clench with wicked, forbidden desires.

The game allowed only one answer, and we all knew it. “Yes,” I whimpered, and a cocoon of carnal need wrapped around me like a second skin. “Yes! Fuck, yes! Please fuck my ass, Jeffrey!”

By the time the tip of his swollen cock, slick from my pussy’s juices, pressed against my pucker, I was trembling all over. Slowly but relentlessly he pushed, and I forced myself to relax. My sensitive ring of muscle was spread wider and wider, and grunts of disbelief-filled arousal flew from my lips. He grunted as well, deep and needful, and his fingers once more dug into my hips.

My bum had never been spread so wide, and it felt naughty and intimate, brutal and delicious, all rolled into one. I felt the ridge of his mushroom head slip inside me and moaned as he began to fill me, smooth, slick skin sliding through my forbidden portal. It was incredible. He slid deeper and deeper, and I thought he was already filling up all of my womb, yet he kept going further.

“You’ve got a delicious ass,” he complimented me, and I moaned in response.

“Oh god,” I gasped when his thighs touched my bum. “Fuck me! Oh god, that feels good!”

The sensation when he slid back out almost all the way and pushed back in once more was breathtaking. God! I felt owned by his cock, and I loved the feeling! Soon we were rocking back and forth, steadily picking up speed, and I lost myself in the feelings that shot directly into my pussy.

Monique's fingers touched my breast and started to play with it, squeezing, rolling my nipple between her fingers and pulling gently. I looked up at her with lidded eyes full of arousal, and she winked. “Time for your surprise.”

At first, I didn’t notice what she was doing when she held out her other arm, but then the small black device registered as a remote. The huge plasma screen on the opposite wall sprang to life.

It showed a bedroom quite similar to the one we were in, the focus on an equally huge bed. A man and a woman, both naked, were on it. The woman, young, beautiful and exotic with long black hair and firm, round breasts, was on her back, legs spread wide and eyes closed in bliss, and the man was leaning over her and spearing her with his cock. They looked incredibly erotic in their lovemaking. She was mashing her breasts with both hands, and his hips jerked forward rhythmically and hard, shaking her body with each penetration.

Then he looked up at the screen, and I gasped. It was Paul. Paul was fucking another woman, a woman that wasn’t me! For a moment, jealousy surged through my heart and made it clench.

A sharp pain in my nipple made me yelp, and when I looked at Monique, she just clucked her tongue and chided me. “Whore!” was all she said, and it was all that was necessary, because that was in fact what I had become, and I had given up all rights to jealousy when I had let Jeffrey push his cock inside my pussy.

Paul’s fucking was getting frantic, but so was Jeffrey’s. His cock pounded into me and crumbled every conscious thought to dust. My moans started to fly, loud and carnal, and one of Monique’s hands reached under me and found my clit. My eyes stayed glued to the screen and watched my husband fuck that pretty girl while Jeffrey and his wife catapulted me towards my climax.

Jeffrey pushed inside me hard and stiffened, then I felt his cock throb and spurt his load into my ass. It was enough to lift me over the edge, and I came hard, at the same time as Paul collapsed over his lover and, no doubt, filled her with his cum.

I think I screamed. Heat and pleasure washed over me again and again. My skin burned and my ass and pussy contracted in almost painful waves of release.

*

Ten minutes later we were all three cuddled up on the bed, my head resting on Jeffrey’s shoulder and Monique’s fingers drawing idle circles on my tummy.

“This was all planned, wasn’t it?” I asked softly.

“Every single moment. You played wonderfully.” Monique smiled and traced a line down to the top of my pussy, making me gasp.

“How do you know Paul?”

“We caught on to your game the last time and I talked to your husband.”

“And he was okay with all of this?”

“Okay? He encouraged it. It seems this was what he intended from the start.”

I swallowed hard. “So it was only about him getting an excuse to fuck someone else?”

Her hand dipped between my thighs and caressed my pussy lips, and for a moment, I almost lost focus. I barely heard her whisper, “In a way, yes.” Her fingers crooked and slid inside me.

A loud click sounded and the door opened. I tried to turn around to hide my nude front, but Monique’s fingers in my pussy prevented me from doing so. Heat shot into my face when I saw Paul and his exotic lover, both clad in fluffy hotel bathrobes, enter.

“Paul!” I gasped, unsure if I should feel jealousy, betrayal or arousal.

“Clare, let me introduce Cindy,” he said, closing the door and wrapping an arm around her back, “Cindy, my wife Clare.”

When they were just a few steps from the bed, Paul slipped off her bathrobe. She was beautiful, tanned and lean, with firm, round breasts to die for. But the determined, controlling look she sent me made my insides tremble.

She smiled softly. Then she spoke in a melodious voice, “I have a pussy full of your husband’s cum. Would you like to lick it from me?”

The game allowed only one answer. I crawled across the bed and got onto my knees between her pretty, toned legs, wondering how long I could delude myself into thinking that it was the game that made me do all these naughty things.

“Clean her well,” Paul said, now behind me on the bed, “while Jeffrey and I make love to Monique.”

*

I was still coated in surreality when we entered our house. It was five in the morning and the first light of dawn had painted the sky with a bluish crispness, adding to the feeling. Paul and I hadn’t talked much, both spent from a night of heedless debauchery, but once I crossed the threshold into our living room, all the guilt and jealousy welled up as if a valve had been turned open. I stopped where I stood, and a tight iron band wrapped itself around my chest, keeping me from breathing.

Paul almost bumped into me. “Honey?”

When I didn’t react, he stepped around me and gripped my upper arms. “Hey, honey, what’s wrong?”

I couldn’t help it. I started trembling. The floor dropped from underneath my feet and a vortex of doubts spiraled upwards, catching me in its mid, thundering and terrifying. I looked at my husband and he looked back, worries edging his face, and the question finally formed on my lips. “Where does this leave us, Paul?”

It had been a game, a silly, naughty game that heightened our thrill, but it had become something else entirely. My breath hitched when he reached out and gently caressed my cheek, the little touch enough to ground me a little. “I was about to say where we started,” he told me softly, “but I guess that’s not possible, huh?”

I shook my head. “A lot has changed.”

“But not everything.”

His kiss was soft and hard at the same time, and the love that poured into me took my breath away. My body melted against his like it had done a hundred times before, and tears trickled down my cheek. I gasped his name when our lips broke apart, still safe in his embrace, and he smiled.

“You’re silly, sometimes. I’ll always love you.”

It was what I needed to hear, and I could feel the truthfulness in his words. “I love you too. More than anything.”

There it was again, that mischievous, lopsided grin. Damn you, Paul!

“You were jealous.” It wasn’t a question, and even if it had been, denying wouldn’t have been an option.

“Jealous like hell,” I confirmed.

“You were jealous while you fucked a married couple.”

I winced.

“You’re a very, very naughty girl, Clare. Do you know what happens to naughty girls?”

At first, I didn’t get what he meant, so I stared after him with puzzlement when he crossed the room and sat down on the old mahogany chair. My eyes widened when he patted his lap. “Paul!” I gasped with indignation at the thought of being spanked by my husband like a naughty schoolgirl.

He just grinned back, patiently tapping a rhythm on his thigh.

“Paul! It’s not funny. I’ll not let you wallop my ass like an out-of-bounds teenager’s!” My voice didn’t even convince myself though. Paul kept tapping, and the thought of draping myself across his lap and feeling his strong hand impact on my naked bottom grew more tantalizing with every attempt to push it from my mind. Somehow, my feet started walking towards him on their own volition, and I recognized the fire in his eyes - it was the same needful, controlling expression he had when we had really rough sex. It was like a magnet to my pussy, which evidently still hadn’t enough and started creaming once again.

I felt hot all over, but most of all in that spot between my legs. My dress sailed onto the floor behind me and my breath hitched, because I was really doing this and loving every second. I neatly draped myself across his upper legs, and he wasted no time.

One hand buried itself in my hair and gripped it tightly, and the other cracked down on my butt cheek. Fire shot through my backside and I groaned. The second swat hit my other cheek and set it equally ablaze.

“Owww!” I complained, but that only spurred him on. He know how rough I sometimes loved it, knew exactly that these sounds of protests I was making were nothing.

Like a machine, he rained down one painful slap after another, making my body shake and setting my pussy on fire. We had never played spanking games before, but even when tears shot into my eyes, I wondered how we could have missed out on that so long - how I could have missed out. My juices began to trickle down my thighs and my protests turned into breathless shouts of encouragement.

He whisked me upright, and before I could get my bearings, he had opened his zipper and freed his cock. It was iron hard and all the veins stood out dark and enticing, the purple mushroom head swollen and glistening.

I needed no prompting. A second later I was sitting astride him, my back to his front, and guiding his cock into that soaked, burning, needy pot of heat.

“Fuck!” I gasped. “I love your cock, Paul!” I let my weight pull me down and his cock slid inside me with a swift, single motion, filling me up so perfectly that I closed my eyes, threw back my head and shouted my delight.

Paul moaned into my ears and I started riding him as fast and hard as I could. I didn’t mind that I felt twinges of pain in my tender buttocks each time I impaled my pussy on his manhood. Our breaths flew and our moans filled the ear, and it didn’t take us long.

His arms reached around me and pulled me close, freezing my motions, and I felt his cock throb inside me. I flicked my clit hard with my fingernail and it was enough to bridge these last few inches to the edge.

I came hard. My pussy clenching like a vice around his throbbing cock and we both screamed in ecstasy. I slumped against him, completely spent and free of all the worries this night had stirred up.

* *

“It’s crazy,” I whispered. He was spooning me with one arm draped around me, and I felt content.

“Only a little,” he answered.

I giggled. “More than just a little. I should be outraged that you set me up like this.”

“But then you’d have to deny that you loved every second of it, honey.”

“I’m not sure though,” I confessed, “where this is going. Will we keep playing?”

“Do you want to?”

“You’re putting me on the spot!” I reached behind me and pinched his bum, earning myself a slop on the hand.

“From what I saw tonight, you enjoy being on the spot.”

“Not like this!” He was silent for a minute, and I was about to ask if something was wrong when his hand cupped my breast and squeezed softly. “Hey!”

“As long as I know that, at the end of the day, these pretty tits are still mine, I want to keep playing.”

“And fuck other women?” I had to know his motives.

“And fuck other women.”

We both mulled the thoughts. I could hear in his breathing that he had more to say though, and when he didn’t come forth, I prodded him. “What’s on your perverted mind?” I softly giggled when he let out a sigh.

“Okay, you got me. How did you like being with a woman?”

“It was…” I was about to say ‘interesting’ but quickly recognized that I’d be deluding myself. “To hell! I loved it. It was different, but I enjoyed every second with Monique.”

When he whispered his idea into my ear, my breathing sped up and goosebumps raced up and down my spine. It was probably utterly wrong to feel so excited by his plan for the next weekend, yet I couldn’t bring myself to say no. So I fell asleep, aroused but too exhausted to do anything about it, with images filling my mind of Paul at home and making love to a beautiful young woman while I was out in a lesbian bar and playing our cheating game, fully aware that he wouldn’t be there to put an end to innuendo when I’d have said ‘Yes’ often enough.

“Once you’re back, I want to hear every dirty little detail while I fuck you,” he had whispered.

My answer had been, “You will!”
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