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“Okay. No more talk, let’s dance.”
I feel my eyes blink in response, fluttering open and shut at least thrice as my gaze turns from love to Sherry. I do this because suddenly, as if a balloon had been burst open, everything that we had briefly discussed becomes real.
The excited demand had come from no other but Sherry, and I can’t help but find her tone sickening, but then again, I suppose I find everything about Sherry sickening. Her voice is sweet and giddy, you can tell that she had her eyes on me and Love for quite a while now. She's excited, and unfortunately, I can’t say the same for myself.
I’m doing this for you, Merianne. This will all be worth it if it means one day we both can laugh and gasp about stores of how unhinged our past spouses were, and the extremes they navigated us through. You’re worth breaking off my marriage, even if it means that I have to have the worse sexual experience of my life.
“Love?” Sherry beckons, leaning a hand outwards as she walks away from her own husband. She’s calling my wife to her side, I can’t help but feel like we’re both being compared to dogs in their all-mighty, experienced swinger presence. Despite vowing to be loyal to me, Love is quick to pounce away and out of my hold, so she may follow Sherries lead.
Excitement is nothing but prominent on the both of their faces, they're both grinning ear to ear, snickering away. If I had still loved Love, I may have been a little disappointed to see how easily she was led astray. She’s so quick and eager to get away from me and to run wild, I just hope that along with her, this marriage runs wild until it reaches its exhaust.
I couldn’t be happier for her, she’s who she naturally is— ah, so that’s what compersion feels like.
I hear a giddily mumbled ‘hey, you’ from one of the two women, but I can’t tell who it’s from over the laughter they share. They're now holding each other, dancing and spinning one another around as they're consumed by the music, and the ‘sexual’ tension. That leaves me and the only other in the room standing side by side, both of us with our arms crossed.
Sadly for me, he’s just like the women, excited at the prospect of sharing spouses.
I’m standing awkwardly, trying not to outright show my displeasure and comfortableness on my face. I can’t say the same for him, since he’s standing proudly. Which is perfectly on-brand for a man like Cary.
And the next thing I know, I feel him inching towards me, and I’m doing my best to pretend I haven’t noticed. I’m keeping my eyes fixated on our wives, and he’s doing the same. Yet, I can tell his attention is mostly on me. And that’s a thought that makes me prepared to start shivering, prepared to go into fight or flight over the thought of sharing not just Love, but myself with Sherry and her husband.
Finally, he reaches his supposed destination, which is behind me, with his hands on my shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze as to alert me. As he leans inwards to whisper into my ear, which feels as sensitive and brittle as a leaf, I can’t help but pray for the hours which will come next.
The next words I hear, are the words which will be engraved on my tome stone by the time this night is over.
“Come on, let me show you what I’ve got set up in the bedroom.” Cary smiles, his voice a low whisper, I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to be sensual. If he is, I’m not positive if I dislike it, or if I like it. All I know, is that I’m officially fucking terrified for my manhood.
The next thing I know, I’m being led upstairs, his large hand encasing my wrist as he begins to take me to my own bedroom. Now I really feel like I’m being compared to a dog, being taken on a walk by my owner. My heart is pounding in my chest, I’m curious to see what he’s gotten ‘set up’ on the room I sleep in.
Cary is quick to swing the door open and guide me inside, he’s behind me, pushing me instead getting the sense that I have cold feet. His hand is slotted on my shoulder again, massaging my tense shoulders through my shirt, which feels like a layer of armor.
As I take my first slow glance around the room, I can feel myself tense up. Merianne, when I said I’d endure torture for you, this wasn’t what first came to my mind. I can hear Cary talking to me, most likely trying to give me a pep talk, but his voice feels like background noise.
My attention is more pinpointed on the large array of sex toys scattering my room.
The door has been closed behind us, and now his hand is on my clothed chest, and he can undoubtedly feel my accelerated heartbeat. I blink as my attention is now centered on him. “We have to have each other’s backs, got it?” Cary tells me, and I nod back at him due to the sole fact that I don’t have a verbal response to that.
“We are in this together, Joe, you’re in good hands.” He grins, finally letting go of me after what felt like forever. I watch as Cary walks away from me and into the middle of the room, approaching my bed and opening one of the boxes he brought with him. All I know is that this all seems ever so slightly extensive for one night.
He hands me a pill, I look at it hesitantly, but I’m well aware that I’ll probably need it, so with no further agreements on why I shouldn’t actually take it, against better judgement, I swallow it alongside Cary. He looks at me, patting my back as he examines my reaction, which is an impressed expression, my lips in a straight, somewhat amused line.
Now that I have some sort of off brand viagra inside my stomach, Cary turns to me with a look that makes my slight amusement shift into fear. He looks me up and down, his eyes drifting from my eyes all the way down to, of course, my crotch. His eyes don’t move for a moment or two, as he attempts to examine my clothed manhood, unlike him, I'm not exactly hard yet.
“You ever have a sexual experience with another guy, Joe?” Cary grins, his gaze slowly coming upwards to meet mine, the two of us now making eye contact with one another. I swallow, he can definitely see my adams apple shifting as I gulp down my nerves, he can feel my anxiety and chalking it up to me never touching another guy.
When in reality, I’m just shaking at the thought of having to go anywhere near his wife.
I shake my head in response, “Not that I know of,” I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders awkwardly as I stare at him. He nods in recognition, his hands resting on my shoulders. Cary’s palms squeezed them as he made eye contact with me, and all I do in response is stare back.
“I thought that, don’t worry, I’ll look after you tonight.” Cary smiled, sincerity was prominent in his voice, and as reassuring as he attempted to be, I couldn’t help but worry about what that meant for me. “Now, let’s discuss the important.” He grinned at me, guiding me down to my bed, which I now found myself sat on the mattress beside him.
Cary lets his dominant hand slide onto my lap, it rests on one of my thighs and gives it a gentle, seemingly protective squeeze. I feel myself finally being at ease, but that sense of safety is quickly down the drain once the taller male opens his mouth to speak.
“So, Goldberg, would you consider yourself a top or a bottom?”
I blink, I blink repeatedly. I find myself being at a loss of words, hell, I open my mouth to speak, but no words dare to fall out of it. Not only that, but I raise my eyebrows softly in surprise as I tilt my head to the side coyly, staring back at him as if he just spoke to me in a different language. In my eyes, he did just speak to me in a different dialect because I have no clue what either of those terms mean.
“Pardon?” Is all I can spit out, my face certainly flushed as I speak, but I hope that he’ll blame that on the alcohol we all consumed underneath thirty minutes ago. Cary let’s out a deep chuckle as his hand strokes my inner thigh, and I can feel my manhood twitch as a positive response.
Cary’s purposely avoiding my clothed manhood with his hand, and it makes all the difference. He’s not giving me what I want, and that’s making me even more excited.
He shakes his head gently, not to shame me, but to laugh at his own question. Cary lets out another snicker before going to speak and correct himself, “I really underestimated how new you two are to all of this, didn’t I?” He softly laughed, running his hand (the one not preoccupied with my thigh) throughout his hair.
Out of obligation, I laugh along with him, not wanting this strange tension to shift to an awkward one. “Me and Love aren’t that experimental in the bedroom, I suppose.” I shrug, exhaling and ending my forced laugh sequence.
His touch becomes slightly harsher, no longer rubbing my thigh but squeezing it with only a small ounce of his strength. I stop myself from letting out a pathetic sound in response by pressing my lips together, that drug most really be ‘boosting our testosterone’ like he said it would.
“I'll try to ask in a way you would understand, are you submissive or dominant?” He asks, speaking in terms which I actually do comprehend.
I rack my brain, thinking about all the times I’ve pinned Love down, against the wall, made her come around my cock as she whines my name. Yet, I also think about the number of times she’s got me on my knees, pushed me against the kitchen counter and how could I forget the times she’s gagged me?
“A healthy mixture of the two,” I respond, telling what I can only assume to be the truth.
Cary grins back at me, indulging in the faint fat of my thighs as his thumb drags against the growing tent in my trousers. “I can work with that, now, let’s get prepared, shall we?” Cary asks, making his suggestion a question which I can’t help but nod my head at.
He lifts his hand off of my thigh and the next thing I know, his hands are tugging at my long sleeved shirt. Gripping its collar as he begins to lift it up and over and head, the result leaving me shirtless and barer than I was before. I catch Cary ogling my torso, staring at the hair which coats my upper chest.
I can tell he’s impressed, I can also tell that he enjoys my inferior physique. I'm not the absolute skinniest, but I’m also certainly not the most muscular man around. My arms and chest are covered in the same dark curly hair which my head is, mainly because shaving regions apart from my face is an afterthought. I’m surprised by this reaction, he’s seen me shirtless before, after all, when we had that traumatizing hunting trip.
“Me and Sherry have had our eyes on you for a while, I’m glad you changed your mind about this.” He mumbled, his hands reaching outwards, so he may touch me, so he may begin to trace my hips. I shiver as his cold hands touch my warm body, I feel malleable— moldable to his touch, my body moving wherever and however he wishes it to.
Cary removes his hands before he gets too carried away touching me, and then he gestures to his shirt. I can only assume he wants me to mirror his actions, and remove it. Disobedience not on my mind, I do so, unbuttoning his shirt from the top all the way down to the bottom, pushing it off his shoulders.
I’m hard as a bone as I take my turn to ogle him, admiring each and every curve and well-defined muscle, I should ask for his workout routine after this ordeal. Once I’m with you, I’m sure that Cary will sympathize with his fellow man after me and Loves inevitable divorce.
He notices me staring, it’s hard not to when he encouraged it. His voice soon breaks through the quiet, “Do you want me to touch you, Joe?” Cary asks me, his voice low, gruff and heavy with desire. I let my bottom lip get bitten down by my teeth, my obvious arousal pooling inside my lower stomach and of course, my cock which is yearning to be free from my trousers,
So, I say what I need to do, I may receive, my body craves, “Please.” I beg, looking up at him with my eyebrows curled pleadingly. But he doesn’t do what he asked me, he just smirks, I now get why he’s asked if I’m submissive or dominant. He was wondering how he’d be playing with me tonight.
“Please what? Be specific for me, Joe.” He whispers ruggedly, leaning in towards my ear, so I may feel his breath run along the crook of my neck. He’s getting a pleasurable kick out of making me beg, making me plead for pleasure, I wonder if he treats Sherry the same. But with a woman like her, I doubt it.
I find myself against him and his larger frame, and I can’t help but groan against him. My dick is throbbing and, against my greater judgement, I’m all needy for a married man who I have no emotional feelings for. That testosterone is certainly kicking in, or else there’s no way I’d be so desperate to get my rocks off.
“Please, touch me.” I whine, satisfying Cary’s want for me to beg. His hands are all over me, but it’s not soon enough, I crave touch, I need him to manhandle me and fuck me roughly into the sheets.
“Thattaboy.” He grins.
He’s on top of me, I’m on my bed with my legs spread just wide enough that he can slot a knee in between them. Which means he can effectively grind up against my crotch and I can’t do anything about the teasing touches. Cary leans into my neck and begins to kiss it breathlessly, one of his hands on my shoulder keeping me down and the other, crawling into my trousers.
Every word that comes out of Cary’s mouth is insanely, and filthily dirty to my ears, and it’s driving me absolutely insane. Such as ‘don’t think we’ll be able to go hunting again without me sneaking you into my tent.’ and ‘I bet Love would be happy to see this part of you, so needy and submissive.’
I groan at the ideas he’s presenting to me, I can’t say that they don’t turn me on because that would be a lie. They certainly turn me on, but I tell myself that it’s the adrenaline and lust making me like this. Because I’m loyal to you, Merianne.
He moves downwards, he’s given up on trying to get his hands into my trousers, so he may jerk me off, he’s decided to pull them down and instead pleasure me another way. His face is level with the tent in my boxers, my trousers are discarded on the floor, and my dick is begging for some friction.
Cary let’s out an amused hum as he toys with the elastic of my boxers, watching how I tense up and sigh every time they don’t come down. His cold fingers press up against my lower stomach before slowly sliding into my boxers, pushing them downward and revealing my agonizing hard on which exactly springs outwards.
The way he looks at my dick for so long makes me feel embarrassed, is he mocking my size, or is he admiring it? I honestly can’t tell, but nor do I care once a hand wraps around the base of it, making sharp yet slow thrusts up and down until his thumb reached the tip. Cary leans inwards, licking a line up my tip and forcing a moan out of my lips.
“Yeah, you like that? Then you’ll like this a lot more.” Cary smirked, his breath against my cock, before finally he leans in and takes the head of it inside his mouth. I groan, tempted to thrust up, but if he wants to play dominant, I should be playing along. I let one of my hands entangle in his locks, not pushing down but letting him know I’m here, with him and not in my mind.
Like a merciful god, realizing just how desperate I am for an orgasm, he picks up the pace, taking more of my dick in his mouth with every glide. I’m ecstatic with pleasure, my head rolling backwards whilst my free hand grips onto the sheets. I take a moment to look down at him, not wanting to be completely absorbed in my own world. But I realize something.
He isn’t staring at me as he sucks me off, he’s staring towards the door. And so, so do I, curious to see what exactly has his attention so grasped.
It’s our wives, both standing near the now open door, hands around each other’s hips, Sherry touching who knows where, whilst Love looks at us with a look of bliss.
But I recognise the expression on her face, because I felt it to. It’s a pure look of compersion.