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Alice was right. There was something exciting about them. She couldn’t put her finger on it precisely, but there was chemistry there. Something electric between all of them.
It was innocent too.
It wasn’t driven by some misguided carnal opportunism. It was natural. There was a deeper connection, she was sure of it.
If she let herself go and drift away as she dozed, she could feel it floating amongst the leaves in her mind - a feather of feelings - soft and sensual.
And it was turning her on.
Over the last three years, she and Cole had embarked on a sexual adventure that had liberated them both on so many levels that she struggled to reconcile the person she was now, with the person she was back then.
They had changed together and had successfully navigated some of the biggest, most complex challenges a couple could ever face and instead of breaking them, it had made them stronger.
She loved Cole more than ever, more than the heady, exciting days when they’d been dating, more than the weeks leading up to (and the months beyond) their wedding and more and more every day that they spent together.
Part of that love was having the freedom to be honest, about her own feelings and about her own desires. To accept that the pursuit of her own pleasure was congruent with their shared love.
Part of what excited her about Anna and Tom, was that she saw that same love between them. They respected one another, there was no cruelty in their language, no worn down sense of duty. No Yes dear attitude. They still wanted each other, and yet like so many other married couples, they hadn’t buried their biological impulses. Their desires were still there, raw and on the surface.
Elsie knew she was attractive, and yet some men stared at her with eyes like the dull edge of a spoon. Their impulses were so blunted by years of possessiveness, emasculation and jealously, that they no longer saw her.
That wasn’t the case with these two, they wore their attraction on their sleeves.
Elsie had seen the way that Anna had looked at Cole, and she had felt the way that Tom looked at her, as though he’d pinned her in place with a laser beam.
It felt exciting. She wanted them; wanted to be a part of them.
And she thought - hoped - that they wanted her too.
She wanted them to touch her, and hold her.
Kiss her and strip her.
Take her, and make love to her.
She wanted all of them together, and the more she thought about it the more she wanted it.
She wanted Cole’s lips and Tom’s cock and Anna’s fingers. She wanted to watch as Cole made love to Anna, and fucked her, and made her cry out in lust.
She wanted to see her beautiful new friend ride her own husband, to see how they touched each other, to feel their tenderness and their love as they writhed and moaned and thrust and came together.
She wanted Tom to fill her and make her feel whole, to spill his seed inside her, and on her lips and on her chest.
She wanted to be with them.
She was touching herself.
She hadn’t even realised.
Her fingers were pressing against her clit through the fabric of her knickers, her wetness soaking through as she twisted and quietly moaned into her pillow, gripping it tight in her forearms.
Cole was coming up the stairs but she didn’t care, it felt too good.
She wanted Anna’s skin against hers as their husbands made love to them, one after the other, taking turns and making them both come, again and again.
Cole’s footsteps drew closer as she pressed her fingers inside herself, urgently curling them up and pressing deep.
The top step creaked, the door opened. She could only think in stills now, flashes of dirty pictures.
