… continuation of Part 3 - HIM…

SLIPPERY SLOPE

It was another four weeks before we saw Niles again, and once more it was the same arrangement—two nights at the hotel, adjoining rooms, the illusion of normalcy. But by now, it was anything but normal.

At dinner that first evening, I listened as Sue casually told him about the night she’d let me inside her. She framed it as if we had agreed it was “a bit like cheating” on him, and decided that going bare was too risky—just in case I leaked even a dribble of pre-cum. Niles looked at her with a raised brow, mock-surprise playing across his face, before turning to me and saying he thought I had a hall pass that week. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he added that he was pleased I’d chosen not to taint what he and Sue had.

Sue smiled sweetly, almost innocently, in return. That was when it began to dawn on me—the so-called hall pass had likely been a ruse. A carefully coordinated denial. Their plan all along. She hadn’t just withheld access from me out of loyalty to him. She’d done it with him. And while I felt a flash of humiliation, I was at least relieved she hadn’t mentioned the sheath I’d worn, enhancing my cock in a last-ditch bid for her approval.

As the conversation continued, my mind wandered—briefly but vividly—to thoughts of his thick cock pumping into his petite Asian wife during their trip to Paris. I imagined him bare, of course, flooding her with cum night after night. The image made my own caged cock twitch painfully beneath my slacks.

Later, after dinner, we ordered drinks to take back to our room. The manageress, Yvonne, said she’d bring them up herself, as she was tied up with a large party in the restaurant. I felt my stomach tighten.

Back upstairs, Sue had me strip down to just my white lace panties—the ones that just barely covered the cage. She and Niles kicked off their shoes and were already making out on the single bed when there was a knock at the adjoining door. Sue gave me a quick nod toward it, so I slipped into the other room to answer, hiding behind the door as I opened it.

Yvonne stepped inside, drinks tray in hand, and immediately clocked the open connecting door. She saw Sue and Niles entwined on the bed, then looked over to me—and paused. Her eyes flicked down to my pantied, chastity-bound cock, and she had to stifle a laugh. It wasn’t cruel, just… amused. Her eyes sparkled. And as she turned to leave, she offered me a knowing smile that made me flush with a wild mix of embarrassment and erotic thrill.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Sue dropped to her knees in front of Niles. She eagerly sucked his cock, moaning softly, taking him deeper than I ever remembered her doing with me. After five minutes or so, he got up and disappeared into his room again.

That’s when Sue beckoned me over.

She pulled me close, and without a word, took my cock into her mouth. I instantly felt it—him—the slick, salty remnants of Niles’s load. It was everywhere: in her mouth, coating my cock, slickening her hands. She let it spill between her lips, smearing my shaft and balls with it, massaging it into my skin with her palm. I didn’t protest. I didn’t even think. It was my first-ever sloppy seconds blowjob, and my mind short-circuited under the weight of the humiliation and the sheer, shocking arousal.

Sue hadn’t given me a full blowjob to completion in… I couldn’t even remember how long. Years, maybe. And this—this was easily the best of my life. Her tongue was skilled, ravenous, relentless. I came fast, in less than two minutes, spurting helplessly into her already cum-soaked mouth. Normally I’d have still been struggling to stay hard, but this time I was trembling from release before I could catch my breath.

She looked up at me then, opened her mouth to show me the messy mixture of our loads swirling on her tongue… and swallowed. She licked my cock clean, sucked my balls one last time, and without saying a word, reached for my cage and locked me back up.

Then she kissed me deeply, passionately, and padded into the bathroom. I heard her swish mouthwash as she said, “I don’t think he’s the kind of man who wants to taste another man’s cum on his lover’s mouth.” And with that, she returned to Niles’s room and closed the door behind her.

I stayed behind, locked and aching, but I didn’t dare try to cum. I figured it meant she wanted me ready—really ready—to reclaim her in the morning. Still, I lay there for hours, straining to hear them through the wall. They were quieter this time, more muted than usual. A few muffled cries. Nothing more. I had to fill in the blanks with imagination, and oh, my brain had plenty to work with.

In the morning, just after dawn, my phone buzzed with a message. It was a picture of Sue.

She was lying on the bed, head at the footboard, ankles tied to the head of the bed, arms stretched wide and bound to the posts. Then Niles appeared in the frame, wearing a black mask. He held a tube of lipstick and proceeded to scrawl across her body—“SLUT” and “WIFE” on her breasts, “CUMDUMP” with an arrow above her glistening pussy, and finally, “WHORE” across her face, the O shaped perfectly by her overly painted, puckered lips.

At first, I felt a jolt of anger. How could he defile my wife like this? But almost instantly, I remembered what she’d told me: that she loved being his sex toy. That this level of degradation actually turned her on. And then I noticed my cock—pressing painfully against the steel of my cage, aching with a different kind of jealousy entirely.

There was something else, too. Something strange about the photos. I kept swiping between them, trying to identify what felt “off,” but I couldn’t think clearly. My mind was fogged with arousal, the blood rushing through my body drowning out rational thought.

That’s when I heard the adjoining door creak open.

Sue poked her head around it, her face freshly flushed. “See you at breakfast,” she said brightly—and then tossed a pair of her panties at me. I caught them mid-air and felt their damp warmth, smelled the unmistakable scent. Along with them came my chastity key. “Oh, and I left you some underwear on our bed to wear,” she added sweetly.

Even as the door closed again, my phone buzzed a second time.

Now it was a video.

I opened it with trembling fingers. It was a POV shot. Niles, masked, stood at the foot of the bed. Sue’s lipstick-covered lips were stretched wide, ready. He fed his thick cock into her mouth, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity, until he was brutally face-fucking her. And then, impossibly, she took him deep—all the way. She gagged, drooled, then took him again. He growled instructions at her like she was his personal cum receptacle. And she obeyed.

Twenty minutes later, I joined them downstairs for breakfast, freshly showered, freshly emptied, and dressed in the plain white panties Sue had laid out—complete with a pink ribbon waistband and a neat little bow on the front.

I could still taste the tang of their combined cum in the back of my throat.

And I couldn’t have been more painfully, shamefully aroused.

MASTER & STUDENT

After breakfast, once we were alone again in our room, I turned to Sue and told her just how incredible her blowjob had been the night before. I wasn’t exaggerating—it had left me shaken, almost dazed. She laughed softly at first, brushing it off as the thrill of sloppy seconds. “You just got off on the idea of my mouth being full of another man’s cum,” she teased.

I admitted that yes, that part definitely added to it—but that wasn’t the whole story. It was her technique—her tongue, her hands, the way she moved, the hunger in her mouth. The way she held me in her eyes. It wasn’t just the humiliation. It was her. And she was better than she had ever been.

That led us into a deeper conversation. I asked if Niles had been tutoring her—if he’d actually taught her how to do that.

Sue nodded. Not smugly, but calmly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She explained that he and his wife had once had a very active and adventurous sex life. But over time, things had cooled between them. The passion faded, and the sex became less frequent, less vital. His wife had lost interest in physical intimacy altogether, even though they still loved each other dearly. That gap, she said, had left a space in him—one he’d filled with long-simmering fantasies.

He had always wanted to dominate a woman. Not just be assertive in bed, but truly dominate. To have someone submit to him, fully, willingly. To be a master, not just a lover.

“And that’s why he wants to take up that alpha role with me,” she said. “And honestly, I’m happy to let him. I enjoy it.”

I listened in silence, a knot of mixed emotions twisting in my stomach—envy, arousal, confusion, even something close to awe. I was watching my wife admit, openly, that she was becoming his sex slave. And she didn’t sound ashamed. She sounded… free.

Then she turned the conversation toward me. She said that maybe if I had been more vocal and dominant in bed over the years, maybe we might have explored more, enjoyed each other more. There was no venom in her words, no cruelty—but I felt the sting all the same.

Of course, in my mind, I had my own response ready. If only you’d given more feedback, I wanted to say. If you’d told me what you liked, guided me, or even experimented with yourself, maybe we could have learned together how to give you more pleasure. But I didn’t say it. I just nodded, silently accepting her version of our shared sexual history.

Then she smiled softly and added, “I really have enjoyed our sex life together—even though I’ve never orgasmed with you.”

The words hit me like a body blow. But she continued, gently:

“Our lovemaking has always been just that—a demonstration of our tender love for each other. I know you’ve tried to spice things up, even to be more dominant. But… that’s not really who you are, is it?”

I couldn’t argue. She was right. I had tried to fake that role for her sake, but it never felt authentic. It was performative. And she’d seen right through it.

“I want you just the way you are,” she said, brushing her fingers over my cheek. “My lovely—albeit, it seems, kinky—beta husband.”

And there it was. The role she saw for me. Not her equal, not her protector, not even her lover in the traditional sense anymore. But her beta. Her soft, loyal, aroused and adoring husband who watched from the sidelines… while another man made her orgasm and took her to places I never could.

And oddly… that label didn’t crush me. Not anymore. Because even though I wasn’t the master in her world—I was still in it. Just in a very different place than I’d ever imagined.

CAR-JOB

She mentioned casually over breakfast that she had something else to talk to me about later, but said it could wait. I could tell from the way she said it that it was going to be big — but I didn’t push. She disappeared into Niles’s room after that, closing the door behind her. I lingered for a while outside, ears straining to catch anything through the walls, but all I could hear were muffled giggles, low voices, and the sound of their connection building like a fuse slowly burning.

Eventually, we all went out for a drive, though the rain was coming down steadily, making everything feel more intimate and closed-in. It didn’t take long before they started making out in the back seat. At one point, I was asked — ordered, really — to pull over so Sue could recline the passenger seat, giving them more space. I did as told, watching as her blouse slipped down her arms and she unclipped her bra without a trace of shame. Niles was kicking off his shoes, his trousers following, like we were already parked in some lovers’ lane.

As I drove off again, I could hear the wet sounds of her lips around his cock behind me, and when I glanced in the rearview mirror, I saw her head bobbing, her mouth full of him. Then she was straddling him, her breasts bouncing as she rode him, his expression animalistic. Before long, she lay back across the seats, head tilted toward the passenger seat — toward me — her face flushed, her mouth parted in lust as Niles pushed inside her.

I couldn’t help it. My hands trembled on the wheel as I unzipped my trousers and reached into my knickers. I needed to touch myself. Needed something. I didn’t even realise Sue was watching me until I felt her soft fingers reach over, finding my erection and wrapping around it delicately. She pulled the head back under the ribbon waistband and gave it a slow, measured squeeze.

Then, in that teasing, knowing voice of hers, she whispered, “Show Niles how much you enjoy him using your wifey… Let your little willy cum.”

The words hit me like a switch being flipped. Her hand stroked me once more, and then I came — hard — soaking my knickers as I reached the stop sign and tried desperately to keep the car from swerving. My whole body clenched. I had to sit there a minute just to recover. I heard Niles chuckle and Sue, delighted, smiled sweetly and purred, “Good boy.”

She kept her hand resting lightly over my now limp cock until it softened back to its small, shrunken state, no longer showing even a bump beneath the soaked fabric. I heard Niles snort. “Looks like Mike’s enjoying this more than me,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll soon fix that.”

He pulled Sue fully into his arms again and took her back, forcefully, completely. I tried to keep my eyes forward, but I could still see movement in the mirror — the blur of limbs, the rhythmic thump of bodies colliding. And though we stuck to narrow country lanes, there were definitely moments where any car passing by, or the occasional pedestrian, would have had a full view of Sue’s naked upper body, her tits pressed lewdly against the misty window, her mouth open as he fucked her from behind like a ragdoll. And I didn’t stop him. I never stopped him. I just kept driving, leaking, ashamed… and aroused.

THE PROPOSAL

When we arrived back at the hotel, Niles got out of the car and headed inside, leaving just Sue and me. She told me to join her in the back seat to clean her up. It had become something of a ritual by now—me lying between her legs to eat his cum from her—but as I moved into position, she surprised me by holding my head back with both hands.

“Tell me something,” she said, her voice serious. “Do you really get off on eating Niles’s cum, or are you just doing it because you think it pleases me?”

Her question caught me off guard. I replied meekly that yes, I really did enjoy eating it, especially when I was sexually excited. Then, a little hesitantly, I asked her whether she enjoyed watching me do it, or if she just tolerated it for my sake.

She smiled, a little wistfully. “At first, I just found it amusing,” she admitted. “And I guess it made it easier to cheat on you. But now… now I do enjoy it. I mean, your oral attention is something he doesn’t give me. So yeah… it’s become something special.”

Encouraged, I lowered my head and began to clean her gently, savoring the slick mix of his seed and her arousal. As I worked, she began to talk again—this time about something far more serious.

She told me that during the week Niles had been away with his wife, the two of them had a proper discussion about my partial abstinence. And that she had told him everything—all of it.

Then came the real bombshell. “He wants to propose something,” she said. “That you never have unprotected sex with me again. That you always wear a condom… and that you pull out before you cum. He wants to be the only one to come inside me. The only one who gets to fuck me raw.”

My heart twisted in my chest, and I paused, stunned, my face still between her thighs.

She continued. “It turns me on, Mike… knowing that only his cum gets to stay inside me. That my lover, not my husband, fills me. And in return—he said you can have protected sex with me once a week, when he’s not around.”

She cupped my cheek gently and looked down at me. “That way, baby, we still get our little cuddles. You can ‘slip in’ for a bit of a lovey over the weekend… instead of saving yourself for that whole ‘reclaim fuck,’ which—let’s be honest—isn’t really working, is it?”

She was right. I had to admit that at least this new deal would let me let go during our weekends away. I wouldn’t have to stress about performing, and I’d still get to reclaim her—at least orally.

After I finished cleaning her, I sat beside her again in the back seat. “I was a bit disappointed this morning,” I told her. “You didn’t come in to let me reclaim you. But… I did enjoy the pictures. And the video.”

“Video?” she said, puzzled. Her brow furrowed.

I pulled out my phone and showed her. Her eyes went wide. “That… that was meant to be private. Just for me…” Her voice trailed off as the realisation hit her. She’d let something slip.

I told her honestly that I had been shocked at first. But if she enjoyed being used—really enjoyed it—then I was okay with it. She nodded slowly, confirming that she did. Then she asked, almost shyly, “Does that make me less of a wife to you?”

I shook my head and asked to see what other private videos she had—joking that they probably weren’t so secret anymore, what with the hidden camera in their room.

Sue hesitated for a second, then said, “Well… I think you’d better watch this one before you answer.”

She opened her phone and played the next video. Niles was kneeling between her spread thighs, his cock—still coated with her lipstick—hovering at her entrance. I watched as my wife begged him to fuck her. Begged like the slut she was, like the wife who needed something only her lover could give, something her husband couldn’t.

He teased her, only pushing in the bulbous head, holding back, urging her to say more. And she did—declaring that her pussy now belonged to him, that she didn’t want my cock in her anymore, that she only wanted a big cock like his. “That’s right,” he said. “Mike’s never made you cum… Ever?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and in the video, she cried out that it was true. That she was his slut, his whore, his toy to use however he pleased.

My mind reeled. That strange feeling I’d had earlier about the photos and clips… something had been off. And now I saw it.

“This isn’t your room,” I said, voice hoarse. “When was this?”

She looked sheepish. “Niles booked the room next door. Last night… we snuck through the adjoining door. He wanted to be more vocal. Said he couldn’t really let go with you so close by.”

She paused the video and looked at me. Her eyes were glassy again. But I hugged her tightly and told her the truth: how could I see her as less of a wife when she was finally getting the kind of sex she’d been deprived of throughout our marriage? And honestly, wasn’t I the one who should be seen as less of a husband—getting off not just on eating cum, but on it being another man’s?

She hugged me back, promising she’d keep sharing her private videos—so long as I didn’t tell Niles. I agreed, wondering just what else she had hidden on that phone.

She said that being with Niles was just sex. Physical. Purely carnal. But she was grateful—grateful to me—for allowing her to explore that part of herself. She never realised how fulfilling it could be, but she made it clear: it didn’t diminish her love for me. If anything, it had deepened it.

She told me that whatever I wanted from this new dynamic was up to me. What mattered most to her was my happiness too. She’d support me exploring whatever desires I had—no judgement.

As I opened my mouth to reply, she gently placed a finger on my lips. “Our love, baby, is more important than any physical act,” she whispered. “I love the way he takes control, the way he makes me feel submissive… but if he ever disrespects you, or this marriage, I’ll end it. No question.”

I nodded, my throat tight, overwhelmed. We hugged again—then kissed, with a passion we hadn’t shared in years. For a moment, it felt like we were young lovers again.

She pressed play.

Then reached down, pulled my cock out of my knickers, and began to stroke it with the slick mix of her juices and cum as lube. “I need you to prove it to me, baby,” she whispered. “I want you to cum… you’ll know when.”

The video continued. Their filthy back-and-forth intensified, the angles changing as Niles handed Sue the phone. He pushed her legs back, wrapped them over his shoulders, and the camera bounced between his masked face, his thick torso, and his cock plunging in and out of her. Her pussy lips clung obscenely to his shaft with every thrust.

At one point, Niles said, “I don’t want Mike cumming inside you anymore. He never made you orgasm—so why should he?”

Sue responded without hesitation, pleading with him. “Even with a condom, he shouldn’t cum in me. But he’s my husband… please, let him go inside. He’ll be a good cuckold. He loves his hand. He’ll finish outside.”

That was my cue.

I didn’t disappoint. Thick, heavy ropes of cum erupted, splashing up the front of my shirt as she stroked me.

“Perfect, baby,” she purred. “And I’ll give you all the handjobs you want… we’ll use your silicone pussies. You’ll be cumming more than ever. You know it’s just role-play. I don’t mean to humiliate you.”

I looked at her, breathing hard. “I’m not sure that’s completely true,” I said. “But we both know I get off on it… just as much as you two do.”

I admitted that denial would hurt—physically and emotionally. But it also thrilled me. It was a fantasy I’d carried for so long. And now, it was becoming real.

We embraced again, our tears mingling, faces wet with emotion as we surrendered to the evolution of our sexual relationship.

Then I remembered something. “Before all that,” I said, “I wanted to ask how you felt about me now that I wear panties… lingerie… that I don’t stop another man from fucking his wife, but sit there and get off on it.”

She looked at me with that same mix of affection and mischief. “I may not understand all your fantasies,” she said, “but I will never stop you from experiencing them. Even if it means exploring things with others. I want us to be open—completely open.”

Finally, she told me to think about the proposal and give Niles my answer at dinner.

“I might have a few conditions,” I said, “but yeah. I’ll let you both know.”

She laughed softly. “Come on,” she said. “It’s getting cold in here… even with the steamed-up windows.”

We stepped out of the car, and although we were parked in the back of the lot, I had little doubt the security cameras had caught it all. Frankly, I suspected Sue wanted that. And that suspicion was pretty much confirmed by the knowing grin on Yvonne’s face at the reception desk.

“First Niles comes in with a big smile,” she quipped, “and now you two—all loved up. Must’ve been a good afternoon despite the weather.”

THE ANSWER

As Sue and I got ready for dinner that evening, she laid out two sets of lingerie on the bed—matching bras, knickers, suspenders, and stockings—one set in classic black, the other in bold scarlet. She turned to me with a teasing smile and asked, “Which should I wear for Niles tonight?” I told her the black would probably look best under her outfit. “Good choice,” she nodded approvingly, “you get to wear the red then—though forgo the bra, that would look a bit ridiculous.”

And just like that, I found myself heading down to dinner in a pair of light linen trousers, the red opaque tights peeking out from underneath in a way that made me feel exposed and excited all at once.

During dinner, Sue leaned in toward Niles and asked in a sultry tone if he liked her outfit. She hiked up her skirt just enough to reveal the lacy tops of her stockings. Niles gave an approving grin, sliding his hand up her thigh and playfully flicking the strap of her suspender. “Mike’s wearing the same in red,” she added with a smirk. “Aren’t you, dear?”

I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I nodded, mortified and aroused in equal measure. Then came the kicker: “Show him, baby…” I reached down to lift a trouser leg, trying to keep things subtle, but she stopped me. “Not like that. Kick off your shoes and show him your stockings properly.”

I glanced around, panicked for a moment, but Niles chimed in smoothly, “Come on, Mike. No one else is looking.”

With trembling hands, I slipped off one of my shoes and extended my leg from beneath the table, displaying my stockinged ankle for his inspection. He gave a slow, satisfied smile. But before I could relax, I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard Yvonne’s unmistakable voice behind me: “Ooh, I do appreciate a nicely turned-out ankle.” I flushed deep red as laughter erupted from the three of them—and, to my horror, a few other diners had turned to look. I knew some had seen what I was wearing, and the mixture of humiliation and excitement flooded through me in a dizzying wave.

Just as I was trying to recover, Niles dropped the next bomb. He looked me straight in the eye and asked, quite openly, what my decision was regarding their proposal. Still red-faced and squirming in my seat, I nodded and confirmed that I accepted the arrangement—always using a condom, always pulling out, in return for a weekend session alone with my wife.

Sue reached across the table and took my hand in hers, her head resting sweetly on Niles’s shoulder as she looked up at him and said, “From now on, I’ll only ever feel your swimmers in me.” Then she turned to me with a kind, if condescending, smile. “Don’t be sad, baby. It’s not like you’re being properly pussy-denied like some cuckolds. And I suppose I’m going to have to get a taste for latex now if you ever want another blowjob.”

Her words hit harder than I expected. My hand involuntarily slipped from hers. Until that moment, I hadn’t fully grasped that the amazing, unfiltered blowjob I’d received just the day before had been the last of its kind—for the foreseeable future at least. It wasn’t just her pussy that was being claimed now, it was her mouth too.

Niles pulled a dramatic grimace and groaned a theatrical “Yuk,” which made them both laugh. I was forced to chuckle along, though mine was more of a nervous exhale. Sue then added with a grin, “Don’t worry, Niles. We won’t be bringing any condoms away with us, so no chance of tasting them when we kiss.” Her words carried another heavy implication—no more sloppy seconds for me, even with a barrier. A new line had been drawn.

Trying to reclaim some respect, I interjected that I had a few provisos of my own. They both looked at me, curious.

“I want a full, unlimited hall pass,” I said, “for birthdays, our anniversary, and while on holiday.”

Niles considered this for barely a moment before responding with his own conditions. “Agreed,” he said, “but for my birthday, I want Sue to come away with me for a weekend—alone. No you. And I want you to wear panties and a chastity cage the whole time you’re on holiday, except when in bed. You’ll only get to have sex if Sue agrees.”

Sue chimed in next, eyes sparkling. “For my birthday, I want a weekend alone with Niles too. It’ll be my present to him.” Then, with a playful shrug, she added, “Besides, you already wear panties all the time, so that’s nothing new. But I do want you to keep wearing perfume when we go away, just like you have been.”

MORE HUMILIATION

As we finished our meal, Yvonne, the hotel manageress, strolled over with a mischievous smile on her face. “So,” she teased lightly, “should I bring your drinks up tonight—or should I send my daughter?” Her voice had that deliberately provocative edge, and I felt my stomach tighten with a mix of anxiety and arousal. I knew her daughter was just eighteen. Sue didn’t miss a beat. With a laugh, she replied, “Oh, it had better be you, Yvonne. We won’t want the drinks right away. The ice in the G&Ts always melts before we get round to having them…” Then, with a wicked little smile, she added, “I’ll give you a ring in an hour or so—when we’re ready for them.”

We left the restaurant shortly after, but Sue lingered behind for a moment, sharing a quiet exchange with Yvonne while Niles and I waited by the elevator. I didn’t ask what was said—I had a sinking feeling I already knew it would be about me.

Back in the room, Niles had just finished inside her—his thick cock emptying deep into my wife while I listened from the bathroom, my cock aching uselessly behind the soft confinement of satin and lace. He’d retired to his room with a self-satisfied grin, leaving Sue flushed, glowing, and dripping.

That’s when she made the call.

She picked up the phone and ordered the drinks, her voice calm and casual, as if she weren’t naked and leaking another man’s cum. Then she turned to me with a devilish smile and ordered me to strip down to just the red lingerie. My heart pounded as I obeyed, lying back on the bed as she straddled my face. Her pussy hovered just above my mouth, swollen and glistening, lips parted by her fingers—but kept maddeningly out of reach.

She tilted her hips and let his cum dribble down across my face, avoiding my eager tongue. The warm, sticky mess traced across my cheeks and nose, a fragrant humiliation I had come to crave… and dread. I was so focused on the taste, the smell, the aching denial, that I nearly missed the knock at the door.

Sue didn’t flinch.

“Come in!” she called out breezily, never moving from her seat on my face.

I froze in absolute horror.

The door opened, and through the slits between her thighs, I caught a brief, upside-down glimpse of Yvonne as she entered—momentarily stunned, her eyes wide. She hesitated at the threshold, then stepped slowly and deliberately into the room, carrying a tray with our drinks.

My face burned as Sue made no effort to cover herself, let alone me. She remained fully exposed, her naked body proudly straddling her feminized husband, his face glazed in another man’s cum. I could hardly believe how unashamed she’d become. The woman who used to blush if I made a dirty joke in public now sat naked atop me, boldly leaking her lover’s seed as the hotel manageress took it all in.

To my surprise, Yvonne didn’t rush out. Instead, she moved gracefully around the bed, setting the drinks down on each of the bedside tables—calm, deliberate, observant. My view of her was severely restricted by Sue’s thighs, but I could sense her presence lingering. I didn’t dare speak. I just lay there, cock caged and useless, face glistening, while my wife carried on as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Then Sue spoke again, her voice soft and wicked. “Beg for it, baby.”

I whimpered out the words, my cheeks wet with shame and desire. “Please… please let me eat Niles’s cum…”

And that was the cue she wanted.

Without a moment’s pause, she lowered herself fully onto my mouth, grinding gently, letting me taste him from inside her. The moment her pussy sealed over my lips, the rest of the world disappeared—and with my vision blocked and my senses overloaded, I only knew Yvonne had finally left when I heard the faint click of the door closing behind her.

PANTY PLAY

Eventually, Sue slid off the bed and walked over to the door, retrieving a pair of red lace panties hanging from the handle. She dangled them above my face, grinning.

“So, you’ve tasted Niles and me,” she said. “How about tasting Yvonne?”

Then she let them drop onto my face. The scent hit me immediately—subtle, unmistakably feminine, damp. Before leaving the room, she added with a wicked smile,

“Oh, and Yvonne wants those back in the morning. She expects you to show how much you appreciated her letting you have them. So make them as wet as possible—you won’t be getting a reclaim fuck now that you have the chance to get inside her knickers. And we want to see how you enjoyed yourself, so send me a photo I can forward to her.”

She shut the adjoining door behind her, leaving me alone with the still-warm panties spread across my face. I couldn’t resist checking the hidden camera footage and there was Yvonne, rubbing herself through her dress as she stared at us. Then I saw her reach up under her hem, slowly sliding the panties off. That explained the damp gusset I was now inhaling. I lay there savoring her scent, rubbing the silky lace against my face, until the moment took over completely. I pulled the panties on, stretched them tight across my erection, and began to stroke myself, listening through the door to Sue’s moans of pleasure with Niles just meters away. The stimulation, the scent, the humiliation—it was overwhelming.

I filmed myself as I climaxed into the crotch of Yvonne’s panties, thick ropes soaking through the lace and into the already-wet fabric. I made sure to capture the moment and sent the video to Sue—knowing she’d forward it. There was something so perversely thrilling about that knowledge.

Spent, I finally collapsed back on the bed, still breathing in her scent, and drifted into a deep sleep with the panties lying on the pillow next to me. I didn’t wake again until early morning. The bedside light was still on, and the panties were now cool but still sticky beside me.

At first, I thought it was noise from next door that had stirred me, but all was quiet. Still groggy, I reached for the panties again. Just holding them reignited the spark. I pulled them to my face, already hard, and began stroking myself lazily. For the first time since meeting Niles, I wasn’t wanking to the thought of my wife. I was thinking about Yvonne—kneeling in front of her, her long dress draped over me, her pantied pussy pressing to my face, and my cock rubbing against her nylon-covered legs.

Then I noticed something odd—the gusset of the panties was open at the top, forming a sort of cotton pocket. I slid my cock into it and wrapped the panties tight around my shaft, slowly fucking the fabric as I drifted deeper into the fantasy. The orgasm built quickly. I grunted softly as I emptied myself directly into the gusset, filling it with thick cum. Carefully, I placed the sodden panties on the bedside table, switched off the light, and fell into a satisfied sleep.

I woke to Sue standing over me, wrapped in a towel, her wet skin glistening. She leaned in as if to kiss me, but paused just before our lips met. A strand of cum dribbled from her lips, and as she held my head still, I opened my mouth instinctively. She pressed her lips to mine and gave me a slow, deep snowball kiss, feeding me Niles’ load.

“He had to get off early,” she explained casually. “I jumped in the shower with him and forgot to give you your morning reclaim… but then things got heated, and I decided I’d suck him off instead, just so I could give you this little treat.”

She picked up the panties from the table, inspecting the wet, messy fabric.

“Ummm… no wonder you’re such a sleepyhead,” she teased. “Someone’s been having fun with these. I’m sure Yvonne will be impressed. See how much better it is now you don’t have to save yourself for some awkward reclaim session?”

Then, towel still clinging to her hips, she turned to go. “I’m joining Niles for breakfast. Don’t worry—I’ll wait for you once he’s gone. I’m sure Yvonne and I will find something to chat about in the meantime…”

After she left, I finally got up and showered. As I was dressing, my phone pinged—a message from Sue.

Yvonne can hardly wait to get her panties back. She’s not wearing any now since she plans to wear them all day.

The idea of my cum-damp panties pressed up against her pussy made my cock throb again. I dropped my pants, spread the panties out in front of me, and jerked myself off into the already stained crotch. I managed several thick ropes and sent a picture to Sue with the caption:

Hope she enjoys the icing on the cake.

When I finally stepped out into the hallway to go down for breakfast, Yvonne was standing there. I blushed as I thanked her for her “gift.” She smiled knowingly and held up her phone—Sue had already forwarded her the photos.

“Thanks for the return favor,” she said, before turning and heading into our room. I lingered, half-hoping I’d catch a glimpse of her retrieving the panties, but she just gave me a teasing smile and closed the door.

I met Sue at breakfast, and she filled me in on the rest of her night with Niles. I told her about enjoying Yvonne’s panties, which she clearly already knew. Afterward, we went back to our room to pack and remove the hidden cameras. As Sue was zipping up her suitcase, her phone pinged again. She showed me the screen—an upskirt photo from Yvonne. She was wearing the wet red panties.

When we checked out, I was instructed to thank Yvonne properly.

“Thanks again for the surprise gift with our drinks last night,” I told her at reception.

She gave a playful smile, clearly enjoying the innuendo. “And I much appreciated the return favor,” she replied from behind the desk. She slowly slipped a hand beneath her dress, then brought it to her mouth and sucked her finger—before offering each of us one.

On the way home, Sue gave me a sly look and said, “You know… I think Yvonne’s taken a particular liking to you.”

That made me wonder—would she keep her word and serve me a creampie of her own one day?