Author: Akiko

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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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I didn’t go in. I couldn’t. I wanted to see this exactly as it was, from exactly where I was.

Fiona saw me shake my head. Something flashed in her eyes, disappointment and excitement all at once, and then she just let go.

She rode Ross hard, her hands braced on his chest, her tits bouncing. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto him on every stroke. I could hear it through the glass, the slap of skin, her gasps getting higher and sharper.

“Ross,” she moaned. “Ross, fuck.”

Not my name. His.

That should have hurt. It made me stroke faster.

She came on his cock with her head thrown back, staring at the ceiling, shaking all over. Ross groaned and bucked up into her, and I watched his face twist as he came inside the condom.

I came too. All over my hand and the hallway carpet, biting my lip so they wouldn’t hear me.

When I looked up she was collapsed on his chest, his arms around her. He was stroking her hair. She was whispering something to him I couldn’t hear. They both laughed softly.

I stood in the dark hallway, sticky and spent, and suddenly felt very much on the wrong side of the glass.

I crept back upstairs and pretended to be asleep when she came up. She slid into bed behind me and kissed my shoulder.

“I saw you,” she whispered. “Next time, come in.”

Ending 11 of 16: Caught Watching. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Stop,” I said. “Ross, stop. She’s mine.”

The word came out louder than I meant. Ross froze with his hand on his zip. Fiona’s eyes flew open.

“Okay,” Ross said quietly. He moved back off the sofa and sat on the floor, giving us space. “Okay. Totally fine.”

Fiona sat up. She looked at me and saw it in my face, whatever it was. The jealousy I’d sworn I wouldn’t feel.

“Hey,” she said. “Hey. Come here.”

I climbed onto the sofa. She pulled me on top of her and kissed me hard, and I could taste him on her, and it should have put me off, but it did the opposite. I was so hard it hurt. I shoved my jeans down and pushed into her and she was soaking from him, from his tongue, from all of it.

“Yours,” she gasped. “I’m yours. Fuck me, Cal.”

I fucked her hard on the sofa while Ross sat on the floor three feet away. I didn’t look at him. I looked at her. She wrapped her legs round me and came screaming my name, and I came seconds later, buried as deep as I could get.

Afterwards Ross let himself out quietly. He sent a text: All good mate. Respect.

Fiona lay on my chest and stroked my hair.

“That was hot,” she said. “Honestly. But we never got to the part we talked about.”

I knew. My jealousy had won, and I wasn’t sure I was proud of it.

Ending 10 of 16: Mine. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Mouths and hands,” I said. “That’s where it stops tonight.”

Ross nodded at once and left his jeans buttoned. Fiona let out a frustrated little moan, then grabbed my head and kissed me hard.

“Fine,” she breathed. “Then use them both.”

So we did. Ross went back down on her, his tongue working her clit, while I knelt beside her and sucked her nipples, kissed her mouth, slid two fingers inside her alongside his tongue. She was soaking, dripping onto the sofa. She grabbed my hair with one hand and his with the other and held us both there.

She came hard. Then again, minutes later, when Ross and I swapped and I ate her while he kissed her.

Then she sat up, flushed and sweaty, and pushed us both down on the sofa side by side.

“My turn.”

She knelt between us, a cock in each hand, and stroked us together. Then she took turns with her mouth, me, then him, then me again. Watching her lips slide down Ross’s cock while her hand pumped mine was too much. I came first, over her fingers. Ross followed seconds later, in her mouth.

We sat there afterwards, the three of us, panting and a bit embarrassed.

“So nobody actually had sex,” Ross said.

“Nope,” said Fiona.

“Weirdly, that was still the best night of my year.”

It was hot. Really hot. But I knew Fiona’s fantasy had been more than this. And I’d held it back.

Ending 9 of 16: Shared Tongues. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I leaned forward. “Ross. Mate. There’s no pressure. If you want to go, go. Nobody will think less of you.”

I meant it kindly. I watched it land like an escape hatch.

“Yeah,” Ross said, already on his feet, already reaching for his jacket. “Yeah, I think… I think I’d better. Sorry. God. Sorry, Fi. It’s not you. It’s really, really not you.”

“Ross…” Fiona started.

“I’ll text you,” he said to me. “Tomorrow. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.”

And he was gone. The front door, his car in the street, done, all in under a minute.

Fiona stood in the middle of the living room with her dress hanging open, black lace, bare legs, completely deflated. She looked at the door. Then at me.

“Did you do that on purpose?” she asked quietly.

“No! I was being nice.”

“You were being too nice.” She pulled the dress closed and tied it, hard. “He wanted you to tell him to stay. He was looking at you begging to be told to stay.”

“I didn’t…”

“I know.” She sat down heavily on the sofa. “I know you didn’t. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. We went to bed and lay side by side, three weeks of build-up fizzling out in the dark.

Ross texted at nine the next morning. Sorry mate. Bottled it. Pint next week?

Fiona read it over my shoulder and sighed.

“Maybe ask him again,” she said. “In a month.”

Ending 8 of 16: Cold Feet. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Stay put, Ross,” I said. “Enjoy the show.”

Ross let out a breath and sank back on the sofa. Fiona smiled, slow and wicked, and moved to the middle of the rug where we could both see her.

She let the dress fall. Then she unhooked her bra and dropped it on Ross’s lap. He stared at her tits like he’d never seen any before. She cupped them, pinched her nipples, and moaned softly.

“I’ve thought about this,” she told him. “Being naked in front of you. You looking.”

“I’m looking,” Ross croaked.

She slid her knickers down and kicked them away. Then she sat on the coffee table right in front of him, leaned back on one hand, and spread her legs wide.

“Get your cock out,” she said. “I want to see what I do to you.”

He did, fumbling. Thick and hard and already leaking. Fiona licked her lips and slid her fingers between her thighs.

I sat in the armchair and stroked myself while my wife fingered herself for my best friend. She rubbed her clit in quick, tight circles, her eyes flicking between his cock and my face. Ross wanked slowly, staring.

“Faster, Ross,” she gasped. “Let me watch you.”

She came hard, legs shaking, crying out. Ross came seconds later all over his own stomach. I followed right after.

Nobody had touched anybody. Ross left, dazed and grinning. Fiona crawled into my lap, still trembling, and whispered, “Next time he touches.”

Ending 7 of 16: Her Solo Show. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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