Cami
I know the look in my husband’s eyes, the way they scan over my body with feral intent. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth, and I glance at the closed door. This will be the first time Mike has touched me since Devon came to live with us a few days ago. I don’t understand why I’m so nervous.
“Bad day at work?”
Mike nods, unbuttoning his shirt. The sight of his bare chest is breathtaking. It’s not that my husband is an unattractive man. He has that All-American look, some would say. A boyish-charm with dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a kind heart to go with it. I glance at the door again and he sighs.
He pads over to the door, ensuring it’s locked and grabs the closest nightstand and stuffs it under the knob. His eyebrows raise as he turns to face me. “Good? He can’t interrupt us, not that he’s ever knocked on our door to begin with.”
I realize my husband thinks I’m nervous, or embarrassed about the thought of Devon walking in on us. And while that’s certainly a factor, it’s more what would happen if he did.
Mike moves to the bathroom, grabs a towel, and lays it out on the floor before our bed. My heart pounds in my chest as he moves to the nightstand and grabs the dildo and lube. My fingers shake as I grab my dress and pull it off. My legs feel heavy as I walk till my toes are at the corner of the towel.
“You okay?” he asks, his head tilted to the side. My eyes fall to the peach silicone toy in his hand. I used to think it was huge compared to Mike, but now, after fucking Devon, the appeal of it dulls.
“Yes. It’s just odd knowing someone else is in the house,” I say quietly.
He smirks. “A little hot, though. Get in position.”
I blow a breath and kneel on the towel, then I move till my knees are center and then lean forward to rest on my elbows. Spreading my legs, I arch my back to push my ass further into the air.
Mike moves behind me, his tongue immediately pushing into my pussy. I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my forehead on to the towel, twisting it in my fingers. His tongue pushes into my hole over and over till he moves down, sucking my clit into his mouth. If anything, my husband eats me like his life depends on it. His fingers knead the flesh of my ass, pulling my cheeks apart as his face presses deep against me.
My breathing shallows as my legs shake with my impending orgasm. He uncaps the lube bottle, and then pulls back as he shoves his slick fingers into me. I bite down on my lip to keep in the cry that almost escapes. His fingers curl down, finding that ridged spot that leaves me in puddles before he starts pumping them in and out of me.
Pleasure crashes over me, my elbows digging into the floor as I struggle to stay upright. I push back into his hand, wanting something more than a few fingers filling me. When my pussy stops clenching, Mike pulls out and lifts me by my armpits. I settle back onto my knees, my back straight as he pours lube on the dildo and hands it to me.
He moves in front of me, his pants shoved off, and he’s stroking his hard cock. I place the artificial dick between my parted knees and move onto my feet to hover over it. Glancing down, I line it up with my wet slit, then sink down on the large dildo. The stretch of the thick shaft is immediate and my legs quiver once.
“Fuck,” Mike groans, his hand moving faster. “You always look so good taking that up your tight pussy.”
Leaning back, I put my hands behind me and spread my legs to give him an unobstructed view as I rise and fall onto the fake cock with the weighted base, pushing further down onto it with each rock.
“Faster,” he says, his chest heaving as his fist squeezes down on his length tighter. He steps closer to me, joining me on the towel.
My head drops back and I pick up my pace, dropping onto the dildo in quick slams. I can’t hold back the small moans every time I near the base. My thighs are starting to ache, but I know he never takes long once we get to this part.
“Come on me,” I gasp to hurry him along.
My husband groans, his cock jerking in his hand before the first spray of his warm cum splashes onto my chest. I keep fucking the dildo under me and Mike squeezes his cock with every stroke, drenching my breasts with thick ropes of white. With one final grunt, he lets go of his softening dick and steps back. I lift off the dildo and it falls from me with a squelched pop.
Mike wipes the small bead of sweat that rolled down his forehead and offers me his hand to stand. I grab it and he pulls me up, then kisses me once.
“Go shower. I’ll clean up,” he says with a soft tap of my ass and a small push towards our bathroom.
The first time he asked me to do this, it had been awkward for both of us. The guilt of my phone calls with Devon made me do whatever Mike wanted without complaint. But as time went on, he wanted less sex from me and more of this. I didn’t understand it completely, considering I preferred feeling the weight of his body as he was inside me. When we started trying for a baby, a small part of me was thankful that it required him to come inside me.
Not that I didn’t enjoy it. I loved pleasing him and giving him what he wanted. But it felt like we weren’t connected and it lacked the intimacy that I craved. As I wash off my husband’s cum, my heart aches at how much I enjoyed the way Devon had been nearly feral to touch me, to come inside me. And I wonder why the man I exchanged vows with doesn’t feel the same.
***
Devon whips his shirt off, wiping the sweat dripping off his face. His muscular frame has me stuck frozen as I watch him through the kitchen window. He’s attempting to put together the patio set of table and chairs. Unfortunately, the sun is bright today without a cloud in sight.
I dragged my feet coming down this morning, adamant on avoiding Devon after Mike came on my chest last night. There’s a part of me that feels ashamed, not because I had ached to be filled by Devon while being intimate with my husband, but because with Devon down the hall, it felt like I was doing something I shouldn’t. It is irrational, but I can’t overcome the feeling.
Turning my back from the window, I pull out the ingredients to make Devon some food. I’m not sure if he ate breakfast, but I’ll just save the sandwiches if he’s not hungry.
“Hey,” he says, his deep voice echoing around us.
I spin to face him, my hand clutching at my chest. “I didn’t hear the backdoor open.”
He smirks. “I put some oil on the hinges, as quiet as a mouse now.”
“Right,” I say, my attention dipping to the glistening tanned skin of his chest and the black tattoos on it. It’s a stark contrast to the boy I remember when I was a girl, and now he stands before me as a man. A very attractive, muscular man that I want—
I drop my gaze, pushing those thoughts away, and turn back to the counter as I rearrange the stuff I grabbed from the fridge. Devon moves closer, his boots thudding against the tile. My skin prickles at his presence as he stands behind me.
“I missed you at breakfast.”
Suppressing the shudder that threatens to overtake me, I nod and grab a plate from the cabinet. “Sorry, I hope you’re not too hungry. Give me a minute and I’ll have something for you.”
His fingers swipe the hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck to him, and I pause. Devon leans forward, his nose buried in my throat as he inhales. “Hmmm. I love your smell.”
My heart beats erratically, and my hands shake. I set the plate down carefully, and try to calm my breathing. I rubbed my skin nearly raw to wash off Mike’s cum, and fear curls in my belly at the thought of Devon smelling it.
When his hand brushes up my ribs and under my breasts, I flinch and jerk away from him.
“.” His curt tone has me meeting his gaze.
Devon’s eyebrows furrow, and he studies my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I get out quickly. I drag my hands down my dress, straightening it against my body. “Just wasn’t expecting it.”
He snatches my chin, tilting my head back and peering down. “You’re lying to me.”
My eyes widen. “N-no.”
Devon’s grip tightens. “You’ve had the same tell since you were a teenager and nothing has changed. Now tell me why you pulled away from my touch.”
A flush creeps up my neck and his fingertips feel cold against my burning cheeks. His eyes shift between mine and then he lets go of me, taking a step back.
“You fucked him.”
I shake my head. “No. We didn’t—it wasn’t that.”
“But something along those lines. He touched you,” Devon spits out.
“He’s my husband,” I whisper in a hushed breath.
A deep rumble comes out of his throat, like a tortured growl. He grabs me around the waist, lifting me onto the counter and the next second he’s ripping my dress in half. Exposing my lacy bra to the kitchen, Devon gives my dress another tug and bares my matching white panties.
I let out a gasp as he pries my legs open, pulling me to the edge of the counter, and I wrap them around his waist. His hand glides up my ribs, palming my breast, and his fingers curl around the cup before pulling it down. His lips wrap around my hard nipple, sucking it into his mouth in a quick tug.
Bracing one hand on the counter, the other tangles into his hair as I pull him into my chest. My heaving breasts ache as he devours one and kneads the other.
He groans. “One day, these are going to leak with milk, and I can’t wait to drink you down.”
My mouth falls open at the image, slick heat pulsing in my pussy at the idea of Devon gulping my breastmilk. His fingers skim down my belly and he pushes my panties to the side, swiping up my slick folds and pressing down on the little bundle of nerves swelling with arousal. In the next second, two of his fingers are stretching me wide, and I gasp. My hooded eyes clash with his blue that have darkened with fury. A swirl of unease curls inside me at his anger.
Devon pulls me closer to the edge, the curve of my ass cheeks hanging off the counter as he bends over and presses his mouth to my pussy. I don’t know what I did to deserve to have two men that enjoy going down on me, but I’ll never get over the feel of their tongues as they lap up my juices or flick at my clit.
My legs shake around his face as he doesn’t let up, devouring my pussy like a man starved. I’m gasping, moaning and withering on the counter as my pleasure tips over, and I’m plunged into waves of ecstasy. Devon straightens his back, undoes his jeans and shoves his cock into me the next second.
“Oh my… god!” I scream. His hands push at the back of my knees, folding my legs to my chest as he starts pounding his thick cock into my still quivering pussy. The pace is punishing, and my nails dig into his forearms, holding on as he uses me as an outlet for his anger.
His eyebrows scrunch together, and his white teeth bite down on his lip. The slap of our skin echoes in the kitchen with each stroke, and I can feel the smack of his balls every time he slides his entire length deep inside me.
“Come inside me,” I beg. “ Please.”
After last night, I’m feeling particularly desperate to feel the throb of his dick as he releases his cum in me. Devon’s eyes lift to mine and he sneers, slamming into me with a deep and harsh thrust.
“You want my cum?” he asks, breathless as his body starts to stiffen and I know he’s close.
“I need it,” I plead.
His eyes shutter closed, and he buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside me. The warmth of his cum filling me has my pussy clenching to drag it deeper. He rocks his hips a few more times till his cock starts to soften and he pulls out. With a small tug, he sets my panties back in place.
“They stay on,” he says with a steely expression. “You’re going to wear my cum for the rest of the day, during dinner, and perhaps even go to your husband’s bed with your cum-soaked panties. He would have to be an idiot not to smell me on you.”
My eyes widen. I fix my bra and shrug off the tattered remains of my dress, rubbing at my arms. “Devon—”
“Get dressed, . Then tell me where you want your table and chairs.”