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Without a hint of reservation, I come up behind her, squeezing her between us as I latch my mouth on her neck, lifting her dress and tearing down her panties. I don’t want to wait another second before I’m inside her.
She whimpers against Dean’s mouth as I tug her hips backward and run my fingers through her wet folds again. With one hand playing with her pussy, the other quickly unbuckle my pants, stretching down the hem of my boxer briefs and pulling out my aching cock. It all happens in a frantic moment.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you,” I mutter as I run the head of my dick along her soaking core. When I find the warm entrance, I thrust in, and she moans loudly against Dean’s mouth.
“Fuck yeah, angel, let me hear you,” he mutters against her lips. She’s so wet I slide in easily. Pulling back to the tip, I pound into her relentlessly, and she squeals again.
I’m lost in the passion of the moment when a set of fingers touches my cock. My eyes flash upward at Dean and a fire ignites inside me. His hand is touching the place where I am penetrating my wife. My eyes are locked with his as I pick up the pace, slamming harder and faster into her.
If there is anyone on the other side of that door, they for sure can hear us. Briar is not keeping it down.
And I can tell when Dean begins to massage her clit because I feel her pussy tighten around me and her body tenses as she comes.
With a bruising grip on her hips, I slam into her as my own climax takes over. I empty my balls inside my innocent, angelic wife in the private bathroom of my mother’s auction gala.
It feels perverted and depraved and sinful, and I love every fucking minute of it.
But I’m not done, far from it. I’m tired of hiding from the truth and pretending that this thing between us isn’t incredible. And I’m tired of pretending that I don’t want this.
What I want is to take these two home and have my way with them for the rest of the night. I want to own them and touch them and claim them and fuck them—bothof them.
Thirty-Five
Dean
By the time we finish in the private bathroom upstairs, it’s clear none of us are fully sated. We’re all craving more. I know I am.
I need to see Briar on her knees again. I want to corrupt this precious angel some more.
And I want to see Caleb truly let go. He’s right on the brink of giving in to his desires, and it makes me want to feel his hands on me. Or more.
I don’t know if he’s ready for that, and it’s okay if he’s not. I will be patient. But God, I hope he is.
The whole idea is to improve their sex life. And I feel a sense of pride swell inside me as I realize that I’ve done just that.
At the prospect of being alone, I get an idea. While Caleb is putting his softening cock back in his pants, I say, “I want to take you both to the club.”
They both freeze and stare at me.
“Sage and Adam won’t be there,” I continue. “They’re still here at the gala. And if we go to Sinners and Saints, we’ll have access to more things.”
“Things?” Briar asks.
“Toys, paddles, whips, lube, condoms. Everything we want.”
Her throat moves delicately as she swallows. Neither of them speaks for a moment, and I can see their concern. Going to a sex club is a big step. It’s outside their comfort zone.
“I can take you directly to my room, and no one has to know what goes on behind those closed doors,” I say, hoping to ease their worries.
After a moment, they glance at each other. It’s Caleb who replies first.
“Let’s do it.”
My body hums with excitement as we open the door and sneak out of the small room.
As we descend the stairs together and head for the exit of the gala, I can feel the eyes of others on us. I don’t know these people, and I don’t know if them seeing us together should be alarming, but Caleb and Briar don’t seem worried, so I’m going to follow their lead.
Like Briar said, who cares if they know the truth? That a loving, faithful, married couple consensually engages with the same man. If people have a problem with that, that’s on them.
