Author: Akiko

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“Don’t make him wait,” I said. “Go on.”

Fiona hesitated for a heartbeat. Then she crossed the room and sat down on the sofa next to Ross, close, her bare knee against his jeans.

Ross went rigid. Not the good kind. The panicking kind.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said. Then, to me, “Cal, mate, are you absolutely…”

“I’m sure.”

Fiona took the wine glass out of his hand and put it on the coffee table. She touched his face. He was trembling. I’d known him nineteen years and I’d never seen Ross tremble, not at his wedding, not at his divorce, not when he broke his collarbone in a scrum.

She kissed him. Gently.

He didn’t kiss back at first. Then he did, all at once, his big hand sliding into her hair, and she made a small hungry sound that went straight to my cock.

They kissed for a long time. His hand moved to her waist, then hovered over the tie of her dress, and stopped there.

He broke the kiss and looked at me. His face was red, his breathing ragged. “I can’t…” he said. “It’s weird with you sitting there. I’m sorry. I want to, God, I want to, but I keep thinking you’re going to deck me.”

Fiona looked at me too. Flushed, lips swollen, a little helpless.

The whole evening was balanced on whatever I said next.

→ I tell Ross it’s fine and give him permission out loud

→ I stay quiet and let them work it out

← Back

“Come here,” I said. “Me first.”

Her smile could have lit the street. She put the wine down, walked over and climbed into my lap in the armchair, knees either side of my hips, her dress riding up her thighs.

“Hello, husband,” she whispered.

She kissed me. Deep and hungry, more than she’d kissed me in months. Her hips started rolling, slow, grinding down onto my cock through my jeans. I groaned into her mouth.

“He’s watching,” she breathed against my lips. “Ross is watching us. Can you feel how wet that makes me?”

I could. Even through her knickers and my jeans, I could feel the heat of her.

She reached down and pulled the tie on her dress. It fell open. Underneath was a black lace bra and knickers I’d definitely never seen, sheer enough to show her dark nipples. She shrugged the dress off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

Ross made a sound behind her like he’d been punched.

Fiona kept her eyes on mine. She ground on me harder, took my hands and put them on her tits, squeezing them through the lace with her own fingers over mine.

“I love you,” she said. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m more than okay.”

“Tell me to go to him.”

My heart thudded. Over her shoulder, Ross was sitting forward on the sofa, jaw slack, palming himself through his jeans.

“How far, Cal?” she whispered. “Tell me how far.”

→ I tell her to go to him and let it go as far as she wants

→ I tell her to go to him, but only a kiss for now

← Back

“Not tonight,” I said.

She went still. Then she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

I rolled over to face the wall. I don’t know why. I’d wanted this. I’d said yes to this. For three weeks I’d been hard every night thinking about it. And now she was sitting on the edge of our bed smelling of my best friend, and something in me had locked shut.

I felt her lie down behind me, not touching.

“Cal,” she said quietly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me.”

“I’m tired, Fi.”

“You’re not tired. I can hear you not being tired.”

She was right. I lay there wide awake, my heart going, my cock still half hard, my head full of the noises I’d heard through the floor. The jealousy and the arousal were so tangled up together that I couldn’t find where one stopped and the other started.

She waited. A long time.

Then I felt her hand on my back. Just resting between my shoulder blades. Warm.

“I love you,” she said. “Nothing that happened down there changes that. Nothing could.”

I didn’t move. Part of me wanted to turn over, pull her into me and ask her for every filthy detail. Part of me wanted to pretend the whole night had never happened.

Her hand stayed where it was, patient, waiting to see which part of me would win.

→ I turn over and ask her to tell me after all

→ I stay facing the wall and pretend to sleep

← Back

“Everything,” I said. “Tell me everything.”

She lay down next to me, propped on one elbow, and started talking.

How he’d been so nervous he’d knocked his wine over. How she’d climbed onto his lap to calm him down and felt him get hard under her in about two seconds. How he’d kissed her like he’d been waiting nineteen years to do it.

While she talked, her hand slid down my stomach and wrapped round my cock.

“Then he took my dress off,” she said, stroking me slowly. “And he just stared. He said, ‘Fuck, Fi.’ Just that. And then he put his mouth on me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” Her hand tightened. “My tits. My stomach. Then he went down on me on our sofa, Cal. On the sofa we bought from John Lewis.”

I groaned. She laughed softly and kept stroking.

“I came on his tongue,” she whispered. “Twice. And then I made him stop.”

“Stop?”

“I wanted you to see the rest.” She stopped stroking, holding my cock still in her fist. “He’s still awake. He texted. He’s sitting in his car at the end of the road. He says he can come back if you want to watch.”

My heart slammed.

“Or,” she said, kissing my shoulder, “we just keep this for ourselves. Tonight was enough. And we decide about next time later.”

→ I tell her to text him to come back

→ I tell her tonight was enough

← Back

I took my hand off the handle. I stayed exactly where I was.

Fiona saw me decide. Her eyes widened, then went dark and heavy. She reached up, pulled Ross’s head down and kissed him, keeping one eye open on the glass.

He worked her with his fingers until she came. I watched it happen. Her thighs clamped round his wrist, her back arched, and her mouth opened in a silent cry. Her eyes never left mine.

Then she pushed Ross back onto the sofa and climbed on top of him.

She unbuckled him, pulled him out and stroked him. Ross was thick and flushed and groaning. She grabbed a condom from the coffee table, where we’d left a bowl of them like party snacks, tore it open with her teeth and rolled it down his cock.

Then she sank down on him. Slowly. Facing the door. Facing me.

I watched my wife’s face as my best friend’s cock filled her. I watched her lips part and her eyelids flutter. She put her hands on her own tits and squeezed, and started to ride.

My jeans were open. My cock was in my fist. I was standing in my own hallway in my socks, wanking through a glass panel like a teenager, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

She rode him faster, staring at me, and mouthed two words.

Come in.

Or I could stay hidden and finish here.

→ I stay hidden and watch until the end

→ I turn around and go back upstairs

← Back

I opened the door.

Ross jumped like he’d been shot and yanked his hand out of her knickers. “Cal! Mate, I…”

“Don’t stop,” I said. “Please don’t stop.”

Fiona held her arm out to me. I went to her, knelt on the floor beside the sofa and kissed her, deep, while Ross stared at us. She tasted of wine and of him.

“Help him,” she whispered against my mouth. “Both of you. Please.”

Ross’s hand went back between her legs, slower now, careful. I kissed her neck, her breasts, sucked one nipple into my mouth while he stroked her. She moaned so loud I worried about the neighbours.

Then Ross pulled her knickers down her legs and dropped them on the floor. He looked at me. Asking.

I nodded.

He bent his head and licked her. Long and slow, from the bottom to the top. Fiona’s back came clean off the sofa.

I kept kissing her mouth while my best friend ate my wife. Her moans poured into me. Her nails dug into my arm. I could hear him, wet and greedy, and feel her whole body shaking under my hand.

She broke the kiss, gasping. “Cal. Cal, I want…”

Ross lifted his head, lips glistening, and started unbuttoning his jeans with one hand. He looked at me again.

Something hot and sharp flared in my chest. Possessive. Primal. My wife, spread out on my sofa, about to be fucked by another man.

→ I tell them to keep it to mouths and hands

→ I tell Ross to stop, she’s mine

← Back

I didn’t say anything. I’d told them it was their call. I sat back in the armchair and let it be their call.

The silence went on too long.

Ross rubbed his face with both hands. “Sorry. God, sorry, Fi. You’re gorgeous. You’re… honestly, you’re the most gorgeous… I just keep seeing his face over your shoulder.”

“It’s fine,” Fiona said softly, though her cheeks were burning. “Honestly.”

“It’s not fine. I’ve wanted this for years. Don’t tell anyone I said that.” He laughed miserably. “And now I’m here and I can’t.”

Fiona sat back on the sofa, a little apart from him. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder. She looked at me, then at Ross, and I saw something change in her face. A sort of wicked determination.

“Okay,” she said. “Then don’t touch.”

“What?”

“Don’t touch me. Just sit there and watch.” She stood up and pulled the tie on her dress. It fell open. Black lace. Ross groaned. “I’ve imagined you watching me for three weeks, Ross. That counts.”

She glanced back at me, and her eyes were saying the same thing as her mouth. Is this okay?

Ross looked at me as well. He looked like a man desperately hoping I’d tell him to stay. And a man desperately hoping I’d tell him he could go home.

→ I tell Ross to stay put and enjoy the show

→ I tell Ross there’s no pressure and he can go if he wants

← Back

“Ross,” I said. “Look at me.”

He looked.

“I want this. She wants this. You want this. Nobody’s getting decked.” I swallowed. “Take her dress off, mate.”

Fiona let out a shaky laugh. Ross let out a long breath, like he’d been holding it for three weeks. Then he turned back to my wife and pulled the tie on her dress.

It fell open. Black lace underneath, sheer, her nipples dark and hard through it. Ross stared at her like he’d never seen a woman before.

“Fuck, Fi,” he whispered. “Nineteen years I’ve been not looking at you.”

“Look now.”

He did more than look. His mouth went to her neck, her collarbone, her breast through the lace. She arched into him with a moan and dragged his shirt over his head. Within a minute her bra was on the floor, his jeans were open, and her hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking it slow while she kissed him.

She lay back on the sofa and pulled him down on top of her. He slid her knickers down her legs. Then he hesitated, his cock pressed against her thigh.

“Condom,” he said. “I’ve, uh. I’ve got one. In my wallet.”

Fiona looked past him at me, flushed and wide-eyed, and said quietly, “Or we don’t. He’s been tested. I’m on the pill.” She bit her lip. “It’s up to Cal.”

Ross froze, looking at me too.

→ I tell him to use the condom

→ I say no condom, go bare

← Back

“Go to him,” I said. “But just a kiss. For now.”

She searched my face for a second, nodded, and climbed off my lap.

She walked to the sofa in her lace and sat on Ross’s knee, sideways, her arm round his shoulders. He put his hand very carefully on her bare back like she might break. She tipped his chin up with one finger.

And then she kissed him.

It was slow and soft, then not soft. Her lips parted. His hand tightened on her back. I watched her tongue slip into his mouth, watched him pull her closer, heard the tiny wet sounds of it in our quiet living room.

It went on for a long time. Longer than I expected. Long enough that something twisted in my chest, hot and sharp.

Jealousy. Real jealousy, for the first time. Not the fun kind from our pillow talk. The kind that makes your jaw clench.

And underneath it, at exactly the same time, I was so hard I could barely sit still.

They broke apart. Fiona was flushed down to her chest. Ross’s lips were wet. He looked dazed, drunk, though he’d had two sips of wine.

“Cal,” Fiona said, breathless. She didn’t take her arm from round his neck. “That was… God.”

Ross’s hand was resting on her thigh now. She glanced down at the bulge in his jeans, then back at me. Asking.

My jaw was still tight. My cock was still throbbing.

→ I tell her that’s enough for tonight

→ I tell her it’s her decision what happens next

← Back

“As far as you want,” I said. “I’ll be right here.”

She kissed me once more, hard, and climbed off my lap.

She walked to the sofa in her lace and heels and stood in front of Ross. He looked up at her like a man looking at a sunrise. She took his face in both hands and kissed him, slow at first and then deep, and I watched my wife’s tongue slide into my best friend’s mouth.

My cock was aching. I undid my jeans to give it room.

Ross’s hands found her hips, then her arse, squeezing. She straddled him on the sofa, exactly the way she’d straddled me, and ground down on him. He groaned out loud.

“Take it off,” she told him, tugging his shirt. He did. Then she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, and Ross made a noise like he’d forgotten how to breathe as her tits fell free.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth. Fiona threw her head back and looked at me upside down, her hair hanging, her mouth open.

“Cal,” she moaned. “He’s so hard. I can feel him.”

She slid off his lap onto her knees. She unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, opened his jeans, and pulled out his cock. It was thick and flushed, bigger than she’d guessed, judging by her face. She looked back at me, wide-eyed, asking.

I nodded.

She wrapped her hand round it and stroked once. Ross shuddered.

“I want him to fuck me,” she whispered. “Can I?”

→ I tell her yes, and that I’m going to watch every second

→ I strip off and join them right now