Chapter 1:

Cam and Rachel met in their sophomore year at a small liberal arts college in upstate New York, where ivy clung to stone buildings and autumn leaves crunched underfoot. Cam, a lanky history major with sandy hair and a disarming smile, noticed Rachel in a literature seminar, her auburn curls spilling over a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. Her green eyes sparkled with quiet intelligence, her answers thoughtful but reserved, a product of her strict Catholic upbringing. Cam lingered after class, tossing out quips about Austen until her laugh broke through her shyness. Their first date was a walk through the campus arboretum, where his boyish charm drew out her stories--her love for poetry, her dream of becoming a librarian, her childhood of Sunday masses and modest dresses.

By senior year, they were inseparable. Rachel, the "good girl," blushed at Cam's playful advances but reciprocated with tenderness. They lost their virginities to each other in Cam's dorm, a clumsy, loving moment under flannel sheets, Rachel insisting on lights off and blankets high. Their sex life grew steady but predictable--missionary most nights, occasional oral when Cam coaxed her, always gentle. Rachel had never been with anyone else, and Cam cherished being her first and only. She refused anything adventurous--oral was rare and begrudging, doggy style "too exposed," and any touch near her ass was met with a stern "no" and a blush. Their intimacy was a warm cocoon, satisfying but vanilla, shaped by her conservative roots.

Seven years into marriage, at thirty, they lived in a cozy suburban home outside Boston, its white picket fence mirroring their predictable life. Cam, a high school history teacher, and Rachel, a librarian at the local community college, filled evenings with Netflix, takeout, and red wine. Cam's lean frame and boyish grin remained, though his hair thinned at the temples. Rachel's hourglass figure and striking green eyes still turned heads, but her wardrobe--tasteful blouses, knee-length skirts, cardigans--reflected her modesty. Their sex life was a weekly ritual of soft touches and familiar positions, Rachel blushing at any suggestion beyond their norm.

For their seventh anniversary, Cam wanted to surprise Rachel with something bold. She'd been talking about a trendy cocktail bar downtown, raving about their espresso martini. He bought her a tight black dress from an online boutique, a daring departure from her usual style. When he presented it, wrapped in tissue paper, Rachel's eyes widened, her fingers tracing the sleek fabric.

"Cam, this is... a lot," she said, holding it up, her voice hesitant. The dress was form-fitting, with a plunging neckline and a hem that would barely reach mid-thigh. "I'd feel so exposed. Guys will be ogling me, maybe even hitting on me."

Cam grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter, his eyes bright. "So what? Let them look. You're gorgeous, Rach. Besides, maybe we'll get a few free drinks out of it." He winked, his tone teasing.

Rachel frowned, twisting a lock of auburn hair. "I'm serious, Cam. This isn't me. I don't want strangers staring."

He stepped closer, his hand on her arm, his voice softening. "It's just one night, for our anniversary. You'll look amazing, and I'll be right by your side the whole time. Let's have some fun."

Rachel sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine. But if I feel uncomfortable, we leave."

"Deal."

Chapter 2:

The following Saturday, Rachel stood before their bedroom mirror, tugging at the hem of the black dress. It clung to her curves, accentuating her full breasts, narrow waist, and rounded hips, the neckline plunging to reveal cleavage she'd never shown publicly. Her auburn hair cascaded in loose waves, her makeup bolder than usual--dark eyeliner, red lipstick. She looked sensual, daring, a stranger to herself.

"I feel naked," she muttered, smoothing the fabric, her green eyes nervous.

"You look incredible," Cam said, adjusting his collared shirt, his hands lingering on her hips. "Every guy in that bar's gonna be jealous of me."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. They drove to the cocktail bar, its dim lighting and jazz music creating an intimate vibe. Rachel clung to Cam's arm as they entered, heads turning—men glancing, their eyes tracing her curves. She stiffened, her heels clicking uncertainly on the polished floor.

At the bar, Rachel ordered an espresso martini, her voice hopeful. The bartender shook his head. "Sorry, we're out of espresso tonight."

Rachel's face fell, but Cam squeezed her hand. "No big deal. Let's try something else." They ordered gin martinis, clinking glasses for their anniversary, the mood lightening as they laughed about old college memories.

As they sipped, men noticed Rachel. A guy in a blazer complimented her dress, his smile polite. Another offered to buy her a drink, his tone friendly. Rachel blushed, deflecting with nervous laughs, her fingers tightening on Cam's arm. Cam found it amusing, even thrilling, watching his modest wife squirm under the attention. Her discomfort was endearing, a reminder of her usual reserved nature.

"See? Free drinks," Cam teased, grinning as a third guy commented on her "stunning" look.

Rachel gave him a light, angry tap on the arm, her eyes narrowing. "What if one of these guys tries to take me home, Cam?"

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Please, Rach. They're just being nice. You're with me."

That's when a tall man approached the bar, his presence commanding. Broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair and a tailored navy suit, he exuded wealth and confidence, his smile charming yet predatory. At fifty, his strong jaw and experienced eyes marked him as older, nearly old enough to be Rachel's father. Rachel's pulse quickened, her eyes widening with recognition.

"Derek?" she said, her voice a mix of surprise and warmth.

"Rachel?" The man's smile widened, his whiskey-smooth voice familiar. "My God, it's been years."

Cam raised an eyebrow, confused. Rachel turned to him, her face bright. "Cam, this is Derek, my dad's old business partner. He used to come over all the time when I was a kid."

Derek extended a hand to Cam, his grip firm, his eyes appraising. "Cam, good to meet you. Rachel's husband, huh? Lucky man."

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Cam said, his tone polite but cautious. He remembered Rachel mentioning her father's business partner, a charismatic man who'd bring her books and candy during visits. After her parents' divorce a decade ago, she'd lost touch with her father and his circle, including Derek.

Derek took the stool beside Rachel, his presence filling the space. "So, Rachel, what's it been? Fifteen years? You were just a shy teenager last I saw you."

Rachel laughed, her posture relaxing. "Yeah, I was probably reading in a corner, avoiding everyone. I'm a librarian now, at the community college."

"Fits you perfectly," Derek said, his eyes warm, lingering on her face. "You always had your nose in a book."

Cam watched, his initial unease fading. Derek seemed harmless, just catching up with an old family friend. They talked about Rachel's childhood, her dad's old firm, Derek's travels as a CEO. Cam sipped his drink, feeling included as Derek asked about his teaching job. After another round, the mood loosened, the alcohol softening edges. Rachel's laughter grew brighter, her usual reserve melting.

Then Derek's tone shifted, his gaze lingering on Rachel's figure. "You've grown into a beautiful woman, Rachel," he said, his voice low, appreciative. "That dress... you're turning heads tonight."

Rachel blushed, her fingers playing with her glass, her smile coy. "Thanks, Derek. It's not my usual style, but Cam picked it out."

Cam's stomach tightened, the compliment too intimate for his liking. Derek's hand brushed Rachel's arm, a light touch, but it lingered. Rachel didn't pull away, her laugh softer, her eyes meeting his. Cam shifted, his amusement fading, replaced by a flicker of discomfort.

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom," Cam said, standing, his voice tight. Rachel nodded, barely glancing at him, her attention on Derek.

When Cam returned, his heart sank. Derek's hand rested on Rachel's thigh, just above the hem of her dress, his fingers grazing her skin. Rachel was laughing, her body angled toward him. Derek's hand slid away as Cam sat, his smile casual, but Cam's jaw clenched.

Rachel turned to Cam, her eyes bright. "Derek was just telling me he lives in a penthouse down the road. He's got a fully stocked bar and makes a killer espresso martini. He invited us over for late-night drinks."

Derek nodded, his smile easy. "You two should come. I've got everything you need for those martinis you've been craving, Rachel."

Cam forced a smile, his stomach knotting. "Sounds nice, but—"

Derek stood, excusing himself to the restroom. Cam leaned in, his voice low. "Rach, let's just go home. We barely know this guy, and he's clearly into you."

Rachel rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. "Cam, relax. It's Derek. He's always been flirty, it's just his personality. He's harmless. Besides, I've been dying for an espresso martini all night. It'll be fun."

Cam hesitated, her enthusiasm disarming. "I don't know, Rach. It feels... off."

She touched his arm, her voice softening. "One drink, Cam. Then we'll go. Promise."

Derek returned, his presence commanding. "Ready, you two?"

Rachel stood, smoothing her dress, her smile eager. Cam followed, his unease growing, as they left the bar for Derek's penthouse.

Chapter 3:

Derek's penthouse was stunning—floor-to-ceiling windows with a city skyline view, sleek leather furniture, and a marble bar stocked with premium liquors. Cam and Rachel sat on a small leather couch in the living area, the city lights casting a glow across the room. Derek moved to the bar, mixing drinks with practiced ease, his suit jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing toned forearms.

On the walk over, Derek's flirting had continued—complimenting Rachel's laugh, brushing her arm, standing close. Cam's discomfort grew, but Rachel seemed unfazed, her laughter brighter, her posture relaxed. Now, in the penthouse, Cam leaned close, his voice low. "Rach, I'm not loving this. He's all over you."

She sighed, her tone impatient. "Cam, it's nothing. He's just being Derek. Let's have one drink and go. I've been waiting all night for this martini."

Cam nodded, reluctant but softened by her excitement. He hadn't seen Rachel this lively in years, her usual reserve replaced by a tipsy, carefree energy. "Okay, one drink."

Derek returned, handing them espresso martinis, the glasses chilled, the crema perfect. He sat in a chair across from them, his smile easy. "To old friends and new," he said, raising his glass.

They clinked glasses, the conversation flowing. Derek asked Cam about his hobbies, drawing him in with genuine interest. Cam relaxed slightly, even warming to Derek's charisma. Rachel sipped her martini, her eyes lighting up. "This is the best espresso martini I've ever had," she said, her voice warm.

"Told you," Derek said, winking. "I've had years to perfect it."

They finished their drinks, the alcohol deepening their buzz. Rachel leaned back, her dress riding up slightly, her thighs exposed. Derek's eyes flicked to her legs, his smile lingering. "Another round?" he asked.

Rachel nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Cam hesitated—they'd agreed on one drink, but her enthusiasm was infectious. "Sure," he said, wanting to keep her happy. Derek grinned, standing. "Cam, mind grabbing them? They're ready on the bar in the other room."

Rachel touched Cam's arm, her voice pleading. "Please, Cam? I really want another."

Cam nodded, standing, his unease fading. He liked seeing Rachel like this--tipsy, joyful, a side she rarely showed. He walked to the bar area, grabbing the drinks, the clink of glasses echoing in the quiet space. When he returned, his stomach dropped. Derek had taken his place on the couch, sitting close to Rachel, their thighs touching, his hand resting casually on her arm. Rachel was laughing, her face flushed, her body angled toward him.

Cam froze, his jaw tightening. Derek didn't budge, his presence dominating the small couch. Cam handed out the drinks, his voice tight. "Here you go."

Derek took his glass, his smile easy, staying put. Cam realized he wasn't moving and sat in Derek's chair, his nervousness returning. Rachel's laughter filled the room, her hand brushing Derek's arm, the dynamic shifting.

Chapter 4:

The conversation grew more intimate, Derek's stories of his travels, yachts in Monaco, penthouses in Dubai, captivating Rachel, his voice low, his eyes locked on hers. He leaned closer, his hand brushing her knee, lingering longer than before, his fingers warm against her skin. Rachel's laughter was softer, her responses playful, her body angled toward him, her auburn hair catching the city lights. Cam felt like a fly on the wall, his presence fading as their exchange became a private dance. Derek complimented her smile, her confidence, his tone suggestive, his hand sliding higher on her thigh, grazing the hem of her dress.

Cam's stomach knotted, his earlier ease gone. He cleared his throat, his voice strained. "Rach, maybe it's time to go."

"Hey Cam, the recipe's on the bar, actually," Derek cut in, his tone casual but firm, not looking at him. "Mind making us another round? Should only take a few minutes."

Rachel didn't glance at Cam, her eyes fixed on Derek, her smile bright, her laugh soft as she leaned closer, her hand resting on his arm. Cam hesitated, his heart pounding, but stood, his legs heavy. He walked to the bar area, his hands trembling as he mixed the drinks, following the recipe card on the marble counter. From the living area, he heard Rachel's light laughter, snippets of conversation drifting over. "I mean, I heard some stories when I was younger, but I just assumed they were exaggerating," Rachel said, her voice playful, intrigued.

"Not at all," Derek replied, his tone smug, a low chuckle following.

Cam's brow furrowed, his mind racing. Stories? About Derek? He brushed it off, focusing on the drinks, measuring espresso and vodka with unsteady hands. The clink of ice and the hum of the city outside were drowned by his unease. He finished the martinis, balancing the glasses, and returned to the living area, his heart sinking once more. The couch was empty, the room silent except for faint laughter from deeper in the penthouse.

Cam wandered, his steps hesitant, following the sound down a hallway. The laughter grew clearer, Rachel's voice bright, Derek's low and warm. He reached an open door, revealing a spacious bedroom: dark wood furniture, a king-sized bed with crisp white sheets, and a wall lined with gleaming golf trophies. Derek stood beside Rachel, pointing at the awards, his hand resting lightly between her shoulder blades. Rachel's eyes were wide, her smile nostalgic, as she traced a finger over a trophy's plaque.

"Your dad and I used to make a hell of a team," Derek said, his voice warm, reminiscent. "Won this one in '98, crushed the competition."

Rachel nodded, her voice soft. "I remember going to a few tournaments. I was, what, ten? Dad would drag me along, and you'd sneak me candy from the clubhouse."

Derek chuckled, his hand sliding slowly from between her shoulder blades to rest squarely on her ass, his fingers splayed over the tight black dress. Rachel didn't react, her laughter unbroken, her body relaxed against his touch. Cam stood in the doorway, clutching the drinks, his presence unnoticed. Rachel seemed in a trance, hanging on Derek's every word, her laughter bright, as if he'd vanished. Just as the thought crossed his mind, Derek glanced over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Cam's. "Set the drinks on the table, Cam," he said, nodding to a small table beside a plush chair in the corner. "Make yourself comfortable. We're just taking a trip down memory lane."

Cam hesitated, his legs leaden, but obeyed, setting the glasses down with a faint clink, the martinis sloshing slightly. He sank into the chair, his hands trembling, his eyes darting to Rachel and Derek. They continued along the trophy wall, Rachel's laughter soft, Derek's voice low, intimate. Derek's hand shifted, moving to her right ass cheek, giving it a slight squeeze. "Derek!" Rachel exclaimed, pushing his hand away, her voice playful, a giggle escaping, no real objection in her tone.

"Sorry," Derek said, his tone teasing, unapologetic. "I just can't believe how much you've changed since I last saw you." He looked back at Cam, his grin wider, his eyes sharp. Cam's heart raced, dread flooding him. This was certainly a test, a point of no return, and he was failing it, his silence a surrender. Derek's grin confirmed it, the realization sending a chill through Cam's body. Rachel laughed softly, her hand brushing Derek's arm, and they continued down the trophy wall, their voices fading as they moved farther, leaving Cam alone with his racing thoughts, the weight of the moment pinning him to the chair.

Chapter 5:

Derek and Rachel stood at the far end of the bedroom, their flirty conversation continuing, their voices low, intimate, the words indistinct to Cam. Rachel's laughter was soft, her body angled toward Derek, her auburn hair catching the dim light from a sleek bedside lamp. Derek's hand brushed her arm, her hip, his touches lingering, his smile predatory. Cam sat in the corner, clutching his martini, his heart pounding, his mind a storm of dread and indecision. Rachel hadn't acknowledged him in what felt like hours, her world narrowed to Derek, her usual modesty replaced by a carefree, almost reckless energy.

Cam's fingers tightened around his glass, the cold seeping into his palm. He sipped the martini, the bitter espresso grounding him, fueling his resolve. He had to stop this--whatever it was--before it went further. His legs tensed, ready to stand, to intervene, to pull Rachel out of this trance and take her home. He rehearsed the words in his head: Rach, we're leaving. Now. But as he prepared to rise, Derek leaned in, his lips close to Rachel's ear, whispering something Cam couldn't hear. Rachel's smile vanished, her face shifting to a serious, almost haunted expression, her green eyes wide with deep pondering, her lips parted slightly. Derek pulled back, his grin confident, his eyes flicking to Cam, gleaming with triumph.

The room froze, the air thick with tension. Cam's pulse surged, his mind racing—what had Derek said to change her so instantly? Was it a promise, a secret from her past? The three of them stood locked in time, an eternity in seconds, Cam's heart hammering, his resolve crumbling under the weight of the unknown. Then, Rachel moved first, breaking the silence. She walked to the edge of the king-sized bed, her heels clicking on the hardwood, her movements deliberate. Without a word, she leaned forward, placing both palms flat on the crisp white sheets, her back arched, her ass high, the black dress stretched tight over her curves.

Cam's jaw dropped, shock and horror flooding him. His eyes darted to Derek, who stood grinning ear to ear, his expression that of a conqueror savoring his victory, his broad shoulders squared, his eyes gleaming with control. Derek hesitated, letting the moment stretch, giving Cam time to absorb the gravity of what was unfolding. Cam's thoughts swirled--the unimaginable scene before him, Rachel's willingness, the point of no return he'd failed to stop. He knew it was too late, the test long failed, but his voice broke free, weak and desperate. "Rachel," he said, barely above a whisper.

She didn't react, not a glance, not a twitch, her focus entirely on the bed, her body poised, waiting. Derek's low chuckle filled the room, his eyes locking on Cam, mocking. "Relax, Cam," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "Sit back and enjoy yourself. We're certainly going to." He turned to Rachel, his movements slow, deliberate, savoring the moment. He positioned himself behind her, his hands grasping the hem of her dress, pausing to look at Cam one last time, his grin wide, the totality of his control palpable.

With a smooth motion, Derek lifted Rachel's dress above her waist, revealing her perfect ass, the cheeks round and firm, engulfing a tight black thong that barely covered her. The fabric clung to her skin, the thin strip disappearing between her curves. Derek dropped to his knees, his hands caressing her hips, and slowly peeled the thong down, sliding it to just above her ankles, leaving it stretched between her legs. Her shaved pussy glistened, pink folds slick with arousal, her thighs trembling slightly. Derek's hands roamed her ass, squeezing firmly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He pressed light kisses across her cheeks, his lips brushing her skin, each touch eliciting a soft gasp from Rachel.

His hand slipped between her legs, fingers grazing her clit, sliding along her wet folds. Rachel's moans began, soft and breathy, her hips shifting slightly to meet his touch. Derek's hands returned to her cheeks, squeezing, giving them a light jiggle. "I can't believe you've been hiding this from me all night," he murmured, his voice low, teasing.

"I'm sorry," Rachel replied, her voice sultry, a tone Cam had never heard. "But it's all yours now."

Cam's head nearly exploded, his mind reeling. It was the dirtiest thing he'd ever heard her say, a side of her he'd never seen, not even in their most intimate moments. She'd never been this slutty, this free, not with him. The thought of leaving, of retreating to the living area, flashed through his mind, but his body refused to move, pinned by dread, jealousy, and an unwanted arousal that throbbed painfully in his pants. For the first time, he realized he was rock hard, the sensation filling him with embarrassment and shame, his face burning as he sat powerless.

"Bend all the way down," Derek said, his voice now commanding, a shift from his earlier playfulness. Rachel obeyed instantly, removing her palms from the bed, lowering her chest to rest on the sheets, her ass higher, her thighs spread, her pussy and asshole fully exposed. Derek paused, his eyes raking over her, taking in the beauty before him. Then, he buried his face in her ass, his tongue lapping at her clit, lingering along her folds, the wet sounds filling the room. Rachel's moans grew louder, her hips rocking back, her fingers gripping the sheets.

Derek's tongue flicked higher, circling her tight, puckered asshole, a place Rachel had always forbidden Cam to touch, calling it "gross." Now, she squirmed with pleasure, her moans desperate, her body begging for more. "Yes, Derek," she gasped, her voice raw, unrestrained. Cam's shock and jealousy surged--she'd never let him near there, yet here she was, letting a man nearly twice her age eat her ass without hesitation.

Rachel's moans escalated into screams, her hands clutching the sheets, her body convulsing from head to toe. Her thighs trembled, her back arching, her voice breaking into resounding moans Cam had never heard, raw and primal. She collapsed onto the bed, panting, her skin flushed, her pussy dripping. Derek pulled back, his face glistening with her cum, and gave her ass a loving tap. "Good girl," he said, his voice warm, approving, as her juices dripped from his chin.

Cam saw his chance to escape, the scene too much to bear, the certainty of what was coming next overwhelming. He started to rise, his legs shaky, intending to slip out to the living area. Derek's eyes snapped to him, his voice sharp. "Where do you think you're going, Cam?"

Cam froze, stammering, his voice weak. "I--I was just--"

"Get over here," Derek commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cam obeyed, confused, his legs moving despite his racing mind. Why was he listening? He stood beside Derek, Rachel still slumped on the bed, catching her breath, her body glistening with sweat.

"We need your help," Derek said, his voice calm but authoritative. He leaned down, sliding Rachel's thong from her ankles, tossing it aside. He grasped her dress, pulling it up over her shoulders and head, removing it in one smooth motion. "Can you undo the clasp of her bra?" he asked, though it wasn't a question, his fingers still slick from Rachel's arousal.

Cam hesitated, his mind screaming to stop, to object, but his hands moved, unclipping her bra with trembling fingers. Derek flipped Rachel onto her back, pulling the bra off, revealing her perfect breasts, full and round, nipples hard, her skin flushed. Cam's heart raced--early in their relationship, Rachel had told him no other man had seen her breasts, a shy confession that had meant the world to him. Now, she lay completely naked before them, still reeling from what looked like the most intense orgasm of her life.

"Damn, those look perfect," Derek said, his eyes raking over her. "Don't you think so, Cam?"

"Yes," Cam replied instantly, his voice hollow, betraying him. His mind flashed to that memory, Rachel's shy pride, now shattered.

Derek handed Cam her dress and thong. "Here you go, pal. Set those over by you. We're not gonna need them for a while."

Cam walked back to his chair, setting her clothes beside it, slumping down, his heart pounding. Derek turned to Rachel, his voice low, commanding. "You ready to return the favor?"

Rachel sprang to life, sitting up enthusiastically, her eyes locked on Derek, Cam invisible to her. She reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with eager hands, revealing a broad, toned chest dusted with gray hair. "You're so... strong," she murmured, her fingers tracing his muscles, her voice awed.

Derek stepped back, unbuckling his belt, his pants dropping. He stood in tight black briefs, the bulge massive. Rachel slid off the bed, dropping to her knees before him, her eyes wide, gawking at the outline of his cock. She paused, her hands hovering near his waistband, her gaze fixed on the bulge. "I've never seen anything like it," she whispered, her voice trembling with awe, the implication clear to everyone--she'd only ever seen Cam's smaller cock. Slowly, she peeled down his briefs, inch by inch, revealing his cock--thick, nine inches, veined, the head broad and glistening. Her eyes widened further, her lips parting in disbelief. "It's huge," she murmured, her hands trembling as she held the briefs at his thighs. "Can I... put it in my mouth? I don't even know if it'll fit."

Derek smirked, his eyes flicking to Cam, cruel and triumphant. "Let's find out," he said, his voice low, encouraging.

Rachel's lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling eagerly, her hands stroking the base. She moaned, her enthusiasm wild, her eyes half-closed, the act a stark contrast to her reluctance with Cam. He'd had to beg for blowjobs, her efforts always half-hearted, claiming she didn't like them. Now, she sucked Derek with fervor, her head bobbing, her hands working his shaft, the wet sounds filling the room.

Cam sat stunned, her passion a shock to his system. Derek's hand tangled in her hair, guiding her. "Fuck, you're good," he murmured, smirking at Cam. "Must be nice getting sucked like this all the time, huh, Cam?"

Rachel paused for a moment, pulling back, a slight laugh escaping her lips. "He doesn't," she said, her voice light, mocking, her eyes still on Derek.

Derek's smirk widened, feigning apology. "Oh, my bad, Cam," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. He grabbed Rachel's head with both hands, guiding his cock back into her mouth, lightly thrusting, her lips stretching around him, gargling softly as she worked him eagerly. An idea sparked in Derek's eyes, his grin growing. "You know, Rachel, it's unfair. You and I are naked, but Cam's still dressed." He looked at Cam, his smirk giant, predatory.

Cam hesitated, his mouth opening to stammer a weak objection, but Rachel cut him off, pulling Derek's cock from her mouth for a split second. "Strip naked now, cuck," she said firmly, her voice sharp, her first acknowledgment of Cam in well over an hour. The word hit like a slap, her tone cold, dismissive, her eyes not even meeting his.

Cam's heart sank, the acknowledgment doing nothing to ease his shame, only deepening it. Defeated, he stood, his hands trembling as he unbuttoned his shirt, dropped his pants, and stepped out of his boxers. The sounds of Rachel slurping Derek's massive cock filled the air, her moans and wet noises a relentless backdrop. His own cock, fully erect, sprang free, exposed to the room. Derek laughed in delight, his voice booming. "Look at that little thing," he mocked, pointing at Cam's erection. "Not much to work with, is it?" Rachel squeaked out a slight giggle, her lips still around Derek's shaft, the sound muffled but cutting.

Derek's eyes gleamed as he glanced at Rachel. "You see that, Rachel? Your husband's rock hard. He's loving every second of you sucking a real man's cock."

Cam's entire body flushed red, shame burning through him, but his cock remained rock hard, betraying him further. Derek pulled Rachel up, giving her ass a light slap, the sound sharp against her flushed skin. "Get on the bed," he commanded, his voice firm.

Rachel obeyed, crawling onto the bed, lying spread-eagle on the edge, her legs parted, her pussy glistening, her breasts heaving with anticipation. Derek stood between her thighs, his massive cock in hand, rubbing the broad head against her slick opening, teasing her. "You ready for it, Rachel?" he asked, his voice low, commanding.

Chapter 6:

Cam's mind reeled, a realization hitting him that he'd known deep down since this began: Derek was going to take her raw. In their college days, Cam had gone bare a couple of times, but after a brief pregnancy scare, Rachel insisted on condoms, saying she didn't want to risk it or deal with cleaning cum. Now, Rachel's voice broke through, laced with a desperation Cam had never heard. "I'm ready for your cock, Derek," she moaned, her hips lifting. "Please, fuck me."

Derek entered her slowly, sliding into her, his thick cock stretching her, her pussy lips parting, juices coating him. She gasped, her nails digging into the sheets, her legs wrapping around his waist as he stood, thrusting deep in missionary. Her moans filled the room, her breasts bouncing, the bed creaking under their rhythm. Derek's hands gripped her hips, angling her to hit deeper, her cries growing louder, her body trembling.

Derek pulled out, climbing onto the bed and lying flat on his back, his massive cock standing rigid, glistening with Rachel's juices. He motioned to her with a confident nod. "Climb on," he said, his voice low, commanding. Rachel obeyed eagerly, crawling over him, straddling his hips, her perfect ass pointing directly at Cam, its round cheeks flushed from earlier slaps, the thin strip of her thong long gone. Cam's eyes locked on her, and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that her ass had never looked so enticing, its curves beckoning, her pussy slick and pink below. From his angle, he wondered how Derek's massive cock could possibly fit inside her, the sheer size seeming impossible.

Rachel positioned herself, the broad head of Derek's cock resting at her entrance, teasing her folds. She began to lower herself slowly, her thighs trembling, her breath hitching as the tip stretched her. Inch by inch, she sank down, her pussy enveloping him, until, to Cam's astonishment, Derek's entire nine inches disappeared inside her, her lips stretched tight around his shaft, juices dripping onto his balls. Rachel gasped, a deep moan escaping, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders as she adjusted to his girth.

Derek's strong hands gripped her ass cheeks, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, guiding her as she began to grind and bounce, her hips rolling in a sensual rhythm. Her ass jiggled with each movement, the skin glowing under the dim light. Derek lifted one hand and brought it down with a sharp smack, the sound echoing, a red handprint blooming instantly on her right cheek. Rachel yelped, a cry of pleasure bursting from her, her body arching. "Fuck yes, smack my ass," she moaned, her voice raw, urging him on.

Cam's mind flashed to a memory--early in their marriage, he'd tried a light butt slap during sex, hoping to spice things up. Rachel had stopped, her face stern, saying, "Don't do that, it's not my thing." Now, she begged for it, her ass reddening with each of Derek's slaps, the contrast searing Cam's heart. Derek smacked her again, then again, each hit sharper, her skin turning a deep crimson, handprints overlapping. Rachel rode him energetically, her moans growing louder, her breasts bouncing, her auburn hair swinging wildly. Her legs began to shake, her thighs quivering as she ground harder, her pussy clenching around Derek's cock. With a final, piercing scream, she collapsed onto Derek's chest, her body convulsing in another mind-numbing orgasm, her breaths ragged, her skin slick with sweat.

Derek flipped her onto her hands and knees, positioning himself behind her, his cock sliding back into her throbbing pussy, her lips gripping him tightly, his balls smacking her clit with each powerful thrust. She'd refused doggy style with Cam, calling it "uncomfortable." Now, she arched her back, pushing toward Derek, moaning eagerly. He smacked her ass harder, the sound echoing, her skin glowing red. "You love this," he growled. "Tell me how much you love it."

"I fucking love it," Rachel moaned, her voice fervent, ignoring Cam. "Your cock feels so good. I don't think I can ever go back."

They returned to missionary, this time at the head of the bed, Rachel lying back against the pillows, her legs spread wide, her pussy glistening, her breasts heaving. Derek knelt between her thighs, his massive cock poised to enter her again. Rachel's eyes burned with desire, and she growled to Derek, "Bring him over here."

Derek's face lit up with delight, his grin wide and predatory. "Come over to the bed, Cam," he commanded, his voice firm, authoritative. Cam obeyed, confusion swirling in his mind, his legs moving despite his racing thoughts. How did Derek have such complete power over him? He made his way to the bed, his naked body trembling, his erection painfully obvious. Derek's eyes gleamed. "Get in and lie next to your wife."

Cam climbed onto the bed, lying shoulder to shoulder with Rachel, their bare skin brushing, his smaller cock looking pitifully inadequate just inches from Derek's monstrous girth. The proximity was excruciating, Rachel's warmth familiar yet alien in this context. Derek began fucking Rachel again, his cock sliding deep, her pussy stretching around him, her moans deafening, her body rocking with each thrust. Feeling cockier than ever, Derek taunted Cam, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your pussy feels incredible, Rachel. Why don't you tell your little-dick husband who your pussy belongs to?"

Rachel moaned, her voice raw, her eyes locked on Derek. "It's yours, Derek. My pussy is yours."

Derek picked up his thrusting, his hips slamming into her, pretending he couldn't hear her. "What was that? Say it again."

Rachel screamed in pleasure, her voice echoing through the room. "You! My pussy belongs to you, Derek! You're the only one I want inside me!"

Cam felt shivers run down his spine, her words cutting deeper than any before, yet his cock twitched and throbbed harder, betraying him further. He lay in complete disbelief, his mind reeling. He and Rachel had lain naked together countless times, their bodies intertwined in love and familiarity, but never in his wildest nightmares did he imagine lying beside her as she was repeatedly penetrated by an older man he'd only just met. Tingles spread through his body as Derek posed the ultimate question, the one they all knew the answer to, voiced as his final mockery. "I'm getting close, Rachel. Where do you want me to cum?"

Rachel, gasping in ecstasy, cried out, "I want it inside me. I want to feel your cum deep inside me!"

The widest grin yet spread across Derek's face. "Are you sure?" he asked rhetorically, his voice teasing. "I want you to beg for it. I want you to beg for my cum next to your husband."

Rachel's moans deepened, her body trembling, her voice rising. "Please, Derek, fuck, please give me your cum! I want you to fill me completely! PLEASE! I want every last drop deep inside me!"

The words were the final, ultimate humiliation for Cam, piercing his soul, yet they stirred something deep within him. The tingles grew into waves of pleasure, his body betraying him, dread filling him as he realized what was coming. With no control, without even the slightest touch, the waves surged through his body and up into his throbbing cock. Cam's cock exploded, twitching intensely, shooting rope after rope of cum across his body, his torso convulsing, several explosions of cum making it all the way to his face and hair, hot and shameful, the most powerful orgasm he could ever remember, burning him with unbearable embarrassment.

Derek exploded in laughter, his voice booming. "That's the most pathetic thing I've ever seen in my life," he mocked, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "You just shot cum all over yourself watching your wife get fucked, without even the slightest touch! How is that even possible?!"

Rachel had barely noticed, too focused on Derek, her voice desperate as she pleaded one last time, "Unload your cum inside me, Derek. I need it in me" Derek obliged, delivering his most powerful thrusts yet, his cock slamming deep, until he groaned, his body tensing, until finally releasing a massive load deep in her pussy. Rachel felt it fill her, the sensation triggering another convulsing orgasm, her screams echoing, her nails raking Derek's back. Derek collapsed onto her, their sweaty, naked bodies intertwined, caressing each other gently, his cock still inside her, their deep breaths slowing as they basked in the tremendous pleasure they'd given one another. Cam lay frozen beside them, paralyzed by the deepest shame and dread he'd ever felt in his life, his body and face covered in his own cum, his wife cuddling a man who'd just claimed her completely.

Chapter 7:

After what, to Cam, felt like an eternity, Derek finally sat up and pulled out of Rachel, his massive load of cum slowly spilling out from her pussy, pooling beneath her, thick and white, glistening on her thighs, her red ass marked with handprints. She lay panting, sweat-slick, legs spread, her eyes fixed on Derek, Cam invisible. Cam lay beside her, his cum cooling on his face and chest, his mind reeling with post-nut clarity. He stared at the ceiling, disbelief washing over him--his shy, modest Rachel, transformed, leaking another man's cum, her ass red from spanks she'd begged for. Betrayal, jealousy, arousal, but now, also, a small sense of relief, as despite the events that had just unfolded in front of him, at least now it was over, and he could return home with Rachel and they could try to put this behind them.

Derek stood, stretching, his toned body glistening, his massive cock softening. "I'm gonna shower," he said, casual, as if he hadn't just claimed Cam's wife right in front of him. He strode to the bathroom, the door open, water hissing.

Cam's breath was shallow. He glanced at Rachel, her auburn hair splayed, breasts rising and falling, Derek's cum dripping still dripping out of her. "Rach, I think we should go home now. I'll go grab our clothes and we can go" he said weakly, his voice hoarse.

She didn't respond, her eyes half-closed, her expression distant. She slid off the bed, ignoring Cam's words without so much as a glance, and made her way across the room, her naked body confident, Derek's cum dripping down her thighs, her red ass swaying. She approached the bathroom doorway, pausing just before the entrance, turning to lock eyes with Cam for the first time since they'd all entered the bedroom. A slight, devious smile curled her lips as she eyed him up and down, taking in the pathetic scene--Cam lying naked, covered in his own cum, his small cock now useless in her mind. "Happy anniversary," she said playfully, her voice dripping with mockery, before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Took you long enough," Derek's voice echoed through the doorway, filled with lustful satisfaction, as the sound of the shower door opening and closing rang out. Rachel's light laughter filled the air, and the ultimate dread consumed Cam's soul with the painstaking realization that eliminated any relief that had just come over him: this wasn't over, it was just beginning.