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“I’ll stay,” I said. “Hands on the armrests. Promise.”
“Good boy,” the swan whispered, and I felt it in my balls.
She did everything for me. She put her husband on his back and climbed him, facing my chair so I could see every inch, the thick wolf cock disappearing into her, her breasts jouncing, her eyes on mine behind the feathers. She rode him slowly. She said what she was feeling. She said she wanted me to watch, that she liked it, that she liked the way I was looking at her. My hands stayed on the velvet. My knuckles ached.
When he lifted her off and pushed her onto her back and went down on her again, she held my gaze through a long, shuddering orgasm, thighs wrapped round his head, calling out to the ceiling.
Then she crawled across the carpet to me, naked and flushed.
“May I?” she said, tugging at my belt.
“Yes,” I said. “God, yes.”
She freed my cock and took it in her mouth, and I kept my promise. Both hands on the armrests, hips shaking, watching the top of the swan’s feathered head bob in my lap while her husband stroked her back. I came in her mouth with a groan that shook the chair. She swallowed, kissed the tip, and gave me a smile of such enormous happiness I nearly cried.
“Perfect,” she said. “Thank you, highwayman. Every wife should be watched.”
Ending 3 of 16: Hands on the Armrests. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.