I never imagined I’d find myself in a situation like this.
It started like so many of those drunken, late-night conversations — where the world feels softer, inhibitions slip away, and words taste braver on your tongue. My girl and I had been together for a while. That night, sprawled across our couch with the glow of half-empty wine glasses around us, she asked me what my wildest fantasy was.
I hesitated at first, unsure if I should say it out loud. But then I did. I told her I’d always wondered what it would be like to see her with another man.
To my surprise, she didn’t get angry or offended. She moved closer, that dangerous, playful smile curling on her lips. “Really?” she whispered, her hand trailing over my thigh. And in that moment, I saw it in her eyes — the same curiosity, the same flicker of hunger.
Over the next few weeks, we spoke about it, teasing the edges of the idea like tongues testing sensitive skin. We set boundaries, made promises, learned each other’s limits and desires. And then she told me she had someone in mind.
An old friend. Tall, smooth, confident, with the kind of grin that promised bad decisions. I met him. And surprisingly, there was no rivalry, no awkwardness. Just a quiet, shared understanding.
We set a night.
And when it arrived, the room practically vibrated with tension. My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears — nerves, jealousy, pure electric arousal. We drank, pretending to be casual, stealing glances, waiting for the inevitable.
She looked at me, a silent question in her eyes. I gave the smallest nod.
She moved to him, straddling his lap, her dress riding up around her hips. His hands were on her in seconds — gripping her ass, pulling her mouth down to his. I saw her lips part, the soft moan that escaped her throat when his tongue slid into her mouth.
Clothes vanished. Her dress slipped to the floor, revealing bare, soft skin. No lingerie — just her, naked, hungry. His hands roamed over her body, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples. He bent down and took one into his mouth, sucking, biting just hard enough to make her whimper.
I watched her body respond to him — hips grinding against his thigh, eyes fluttering closed. I saw her wetness glisten as his fingers found her folds, parting them, teasing her clit until she gasped.
I moved closer, sitting beside them, taking her hand in mine. She turned to kiss me, her lips tasting of lust and wine. “I need this,” she whispered against my mouth.
And then he was inside her.
I watched as she sank down onto him, her head falling back, a broken moan spilling from her lips. She rode him slowly at first, her hips rolling in a lazy rhythm as his hands gripped her waist, guiding her movements. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples swollen and tight. The slick sounds of their bodies filled the room.
I reached out, brushing her hair back, kissing her neck, tasting the sweat on her skin. She turned to me, eyes dark with desire. “Touch me,” she begged. I slid my hand between them, my fingers circling her clit as he thrust up into her.
Her body shuddered, legs trembling, a string of moans escaping her lips. He cursed under his breath, grabbing her hips harder, driving deeper. I watched his cock disappear inside her, her walls clenching around him. She was beautiful like this — wild, unrestrained, caught between two men.
She came hard, her cries filling the room, her nails digging into my shoulder as wave after wave rolled through her. But he wasn’t done. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, taking her from behind, his hips slapping against her ass. I knelt in front of her, taking her mouth with mine, letting her moan into me as he fucked her deep and rough.
Her lips, her tongue, her throat — all mine.
I stroked myself as I watched them, feeling my own climax building. She reached for me, took me into her mouth while he fucked her, her tongue swirling, her lips tight. The sight of her, stretched between us, used and adored, was almost too much.
When he finally came, buried deep inside her, she moaned around my cock, the vibration sending me over the edge. I spilled into her mouth, watching her swallow, her eyes never leaving mine.
And in the quiet that followed, we lay tangled together. No guilt, no shame. Only the raw honesty of desire.
In the soft light of dawn, when the world felt clean again, I claimed her as mine. I slid into her slowly, savoring every inch, every gasp, every whispered “yes.” I took my time, marking her, making sure she remembered who she truly belonged to.
And when she came for me, crying my name, clutching at my shoulders, I knew — nothing would ever break this bond between us.
She was mine. Always.