Author: Akiko

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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

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“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

← Back

I kept my face to the wall. I made my breathing slow and even.

After a long while her hand left my back.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Goodnight, Cal.”

I heard her get up and go into the bathroom. The shower ran for a long time. When she came back she smelled of her own soap again, not his, and she lay down on her side of the bed with a careful gap between us.

Neither of us slept.

At about four I heard her crying, very softly, trying not to. I wanted to roll over and hold her. I didn’t. I lay there like a coward, wide awake, my cock still stupidly half hard from the memory of her moans through the floor, and hated myself for all of it at once.

In the morning she made coffee and we were extremely polite to each other.

Ross texted me at lunchtime. You alright mate? Fi okay?

I didn’t reply.

It took us two months and a very patient marriage counsellor to talk about that night properly. We got there. We’re fine now. Better, even, in some ways.

But we never invited Ross round again. Sunday dinners stopped. He sends a card at Christmas.

And sometimes, late at night, I lie awake and remember the sounds she made down there, and wonder what would have happened if I’d just turned over and asked.

Ending 16 of 16: Cold Bed. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I turned over. “Tell me. All of it.”

She let out a breath like she’d been holding it for an hour. Then she climbed on top of me and kissed me hard.

“He went down on me first,” she whispered, grinding slowly against my cock. “On the sofa. He was so nervous his hands were shaking, but his tongue…” She shuddered. “He made me come in about two minutes. I was so wound up.”

“Then what?”

“Then I put a condom on him. And I rode him.” She reached down, guided me in, and sank onto me, gasping. “Like this. Just like this.”

She was so wet. Hot and slick and stretched in a way I’d never felt. She rode me slowly, telling me everything. How thick he was. How he’d groaned her name. How she’d come on his cock, and thought of me listening upstairs, and come even harder.

“Did it hurt?” she asked. “Hearing me?”

“Yes. And I’ve never been so hard in my life.”

She laughed breathlessly and rode me faster. She came again, clenching around me. I came seconds later, pulling her down onto me.

We lay tangled together, both shaking.

“I wish you’d been there,” she said. “Watching. That’s the part I wanted most.”

“Next time.”

“Next time,” she agreed, and kissed me.

It was intense, and close, and good. But I’d only heard the best night of her life through a floorboard.

Ending 15 of 16: Her Report. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Tonight was enough,” I said.

Fiona nodded slowly. “Okay.” She picked up her phone and typed something. I saw the message over her shoulder. Go home, love. Thank you. Night x.

Then she put the phone face down on the bedside table and climbed on top of me.

“Then let’s finish it,” she whispered.

She sank down onto my cock. She was soaked and swollen and hot from another man’s tongue, and she rode me slowly, telling me the rest of it in a whisper. How Ross had held her thighs open. How he’d said her name. How she’d thought about me the whole time.

I came hard, gripping her hips. She came on top of me a minute later.

Afterwards, in the dark, she said, “So. Next time?”

I thought about the hour I’d spent upstairs, listening. The jealousy. The noises through the floor.

“I don’t think there should be a next time,” I said.

She was quiet for a long time.

“Okay,” she said eventually. “If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what you want?”

“I want you.” She kissed my chest. “That’s always going to be true.”

It didn’t really answer the question.

Ross came for Sunday dinner two weeks later. It was fine. Mostly. But every time Fiona passed him the gravy, I watched her hand, and he never quite met my eye, and I wondered if I’d closed a door I’d regret.

Ending 14 of 16: One Time Only. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Text him,” I said.

She did. Two minutes later the front door opened, and Fiona took my hand and led me downstairs naked.

Ross was standing in the living room, shirt half buttoned, looking terrified. “Cal. Mate.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Show me.”

Fiona lay back on the sofa and held out a condom. Ross rolled it on and knelt between her legs and slid into her. She gasped. I sat in the armchair and watched.

But he’d been sitting in a car for twenty minutes thinking about this. He lasted barely three minutes, gripping her hips and groaning, pumping hard. Then he collapsed on her, panting, spent. Fiona hadn’t come. She was flushed and frustrated and laughing.

“Sorry,” Ross gasped. “Sorry. Car. Thinking.”

“It’s fine,” she said, patting his back.

He left again shortly after, mortified. Fiona came and climbed into my lap and I fucked her in the armchair, hard and fast, and she came on me with her face in my neck.

“That was hot,” she said afterwards. “Him in me while you watched.”

“Three minutes of hot.”

“Three very hot minutes.” She kissed me. “But we missed the best bit, didn’t we? The part where I was going crazy for him. You were upstairs for that.”

She was right. I’d been late to my own fantasy.

Ending 13 of 16: Late to the Party. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I turned around and went back upstairs.

I don’t know why. She’d mouthed come in and I’d heard it and I’d still turned around. Maybe I couldn’t bear to walk into my own living room and see her face up close. Maybe I was scared of what I’d feel.

I lay on the bed in the dark with the door shut.

It didn’t help. I could still hear them. The rhythmic creak of the sofa. Her moans getting louder, then a long sharp cry I knew meant she’d come. Then his groan, deep and rough.

Then quiet. Then, after a long time, murmuring and laughter.

Ross left about an hour later. I heard the car start.

Fiona came upstairs and stood in the doorway. “Cal?”

I didn’t answer.

“I know you’re awake. I saw you. On the stairs.” She came in and sat on the bed. “I asked you to come in.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you?”

I had no good answer. “I don’t know. I panicked.”

She lay down behind me and put her arm over me. She smelled of sweat and sex and a different man’s aftershave. I was hard again and I didn’t know what to do with it.

“It felt wrong without you,” she said quietly. “Not bad. Just… wrong. Like you’d left the party.”

We lay there in silence until we fell asleep. In the morning neither of us mentioned it. It was weeks before we did.

Ending 12 of 16: Alone Upstairs. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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