15 - Cuckqueaned by my Fabulous Friend from College #4
My hand was still between my legs. I couldn’t stop.
“Fuck,” Ben breathed. He gripped her hips and started to move.
I watched from inches away. Every thrust. The way he stretched her. The way she pushed back to meet him. The slick shine of her on his cock when he pulled out, the way he slid back in like he belonged there. The sounds—skin against skin, her moans, his grunts, the obscene wet noise of fucking.
“Underneath,” Raquelle gasped. “Get underneath us.”
I slid onto my back, positioning myself below them. Now I was looking up at everything—Ben’s cock driving into her, his balls swinging with each thrust, her pussy swallowing him over and over. A drop of sweat fell from his chest onto my face.
My fingers moved faster. I was so close.
Raquelle gently swatted my hand away. “You aren’t servicing now. You’re watching. You get to come last.”
I put my hand on the bed, wondering what had happened to me in just these few short days.
Above me, Raquelle made more sounds—sharper now, needier. I watched Ben slide into a faster rhythm, less controlled. His grip on her hips tightened.
Raquelle stopped him. Just for a moment. She looked back over her shoulder. “Let her taste you. See what she can’t have right now.”
My husband pulled his cock out of her beautiful pink pussy. It glistened. He lowered himself, laid it across my mouth.
I opened for him. The angle was awkward, but I licked anyway—tasted her on him, the salt and musk mixed with something that was purely Ben.
He looked down at me, and for what seemed like the first time in hours, he made eye contact.
Really saw me. His wife, on her back beneath him, licking another woman off his cock.
“Enough,” Raquelle said.
She guided Ben onto his back. He went easily, still dazed, his cock wet and hard against his abdomen. Raquelle swung one long leg over him, straddling his hips. She reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, positioning it at her entrance.
She looked at me. Made sure I was watching. Then she sank down onto him, slow enough that I could see every inch disappear inside her. Her head fell back. Her hands pressed flat against his chest. Ben’s fingers dug into her thighs as she took him all the way in.
“God,” he breathed.
She started to move.
Raquelle gestured at me without breaking her rhythm. “Up here. I want you to see what he sees.”
I moved up the bed, positioning myself near Ben’s shoulder.
From here I could see everything he saw—Raquelle’s body rising and falling above him, her breasts swaying with each movement, her face slack with pleasure.
The gold bangle on her wrist caught the light as she braced herself against his chest.
She was in control now. Setting the pace. Ben’s hands gripped her hips, but she was the one deciding how fast, how deep, how much.
She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear.
“Jouis pour moi, mon beau,” she whispered. “Remplis-moi.”
The effect was immediate. Ben groaned, his hips snapping up harder, his fingers digging into her skin. Not instant, like the story from coffee—but close. His rhythm went ragged, desperate.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “Raquelle—”
She rode him through it, grinding down as he came inside her. I watched his face—the way it twisted, the way his mouth fell open, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world.
When he finished, she stayed on top of him for a moment, catching her breath. Then she looked at me.
“Your turn,” she said.
Raquelle lifted herself off Ben slowly. I watched his cock slide out of her, wet and softening. She moved to the side, leaving him exposed.
“Clean him up,” she said.
I lowered my mouth to my husband. He tasted like both of them—his own familiar salt mixed with Raquelle’s musk.
I licked him clean, gentle with his sensitivity, feeling him twitch against my tongue.
My hand finally went back between my legs.
I was so swollen, so wet, I almost came just from the first touch.
“Good,” Raquelle said. “Now me.”
She lay back against the pillows and spread her legs. I could see Ben’s cum leaking out of her, white against pink.
I didn’t hesitate this time. I buried my face in her, tasting my husband inside the woman I’d fantasized about for years. The combination was obscene, perfect. My fingers worked myself desperately as I licked her clean, gathering everything on my tongue, swallowing.
“That’s it,” Raquelle murmured, her hand in my hair. “Take all of it.”
I came with my mouth on her, my moan vibrating against her skin. My whole body shook with it—weeks of tension, years of wondering, all of it releasing at once. I kept licking through my orgasm, kept tasting them, kept taking what I’d been given.
When I finally lifted my head, my face was wet and my legs were trembling. Raquelle pulled me up the bed, tucked me between her and Ben. Three bodies tangled together, breathing hard, the city lights glittering through the window.
Ben’s hand found mine. Squeezed.
Nobody said anything for a long time. We didn’t need to.