I nod across the campsite at the couple who have recently arrived and are hurriedly unfurling their trailer tent in the long rays of the approaching Bavarian sunset.

My wife sips her G&T and regards them over her glasses. Bats away a persistent fly. “Nahh, too straight-laced. Look at their dynamic.”

She's right in a way. There's friction in their actions, brisk and clipped and efficient. I sip my beer, condensation long gone in the seemingly unending heatwave.

“Maybe he's been driving all day and she's been henpecking him to get here before it's too dark to pitch.”

“Maybe. But I think we're better off approaching the ones in the pastel camper.”

I switch my attention to the Bohemian couple relaxing outside the awning of their VW. The plates indicate German origin. Locals. They're in their early 30s, probably. She has dark, braided hair and he has a tattoo of a phoenix across his broad chest. If I was the jealous type, I'd be intimidated. Time hasn't been nearly as kind to my physique, as I consider early retirement.

“I can see why you like him.”

“Mmmm and she’s your type, too. Plenty of hair to hold onto.” She idly twirls a blonde lock round her fingertip. “I thought you'd like her.”

I regard them again. “Oh I do. Just think we'd have more chance with a couple closer to our own age.”

“You mean desperate?” She grins.

“You know what I mean.”

We watch them fuss and unfurl various sections, pegging them to the ground as the structure takes shape. They occasionally snipe or express frustration, but it's no more than the result of a fractious day cooped up together. Samantha lifts her plastic tumbler and takes another sip. “I’m easy.”

“I know that.”

She grabs a cushion and chucks it at me. “Cheeky. You favouring the trailer couple then?”

“Yeah. She's cute. Curves in all the right places.”

“Plenty to grab, you mean.”

“Exactly. What about him?”

She tilts her head. “Swarthy. I reckon he’d figure it out fast.”

“Figure what out?”

“What to do if presented with an opportunity.”

I like this part of our games. The suggestive part where we tease one another.

“What sort of opportunity are you envisioning?”

Samantha flicks her gaze to my crotch and drifts her thighs apart. Her floral summer dress creeps higher and higher. Even though I can't see anything, I know she's pantyless underneath. I also know she's looking for signs of my arousal, and I oblige, stirring beneath my shorts.

“That's very naughty.”

“Mmmm, terrible." She nods at my hard-on. "You've noticed her very full arse then? That can't possibly be for me.”

The woman bends and sways, hammering in a tent peg. “I noticed.”

“Do you think she'd… y'know?”

“Not sure. Probably not. Too straight-laced, like you say. But maybe if he took the initiative, she might warm to the idea.”

“Is that a plan, then?"

I take a sip of beer and wipe my mouth. "I think so. Shall we ask tomorrow?”

“Mmhmm, I'm in.” She claps her thighs shut. “I’m guessing… Roxanne and André?”

I consider. “She doesn't look like a Roxanne. More like, I dunno, Eastern Europe. Svetlana? I'll back you on André though.”

Turns out we were both wrong. In the late-morning heat, as they’re relaxing outside their trailer, we amble over hand in hand. My wife tends to lead the conversation. Less intimidating.

“Morning! You all set up? Anything you need? We always forget something.”

He shades his eyes and looks up at us. “Hallo. We are good thank you.” His accent and intonation puts my guess in the right region.

I reply. “No problem. If you want anything, just let us know. We're right across the way there.” I point. “I'm Harry, by the way, and this is Samantha.” She waves.

“Ivan,” he states. “And Ksenia.”

“Pleased to meet you both. Like I say, swing by any time. We're here most nights. In fact,” I catch Ksenia’s eye and hold her gaze a fraction longer than I should. “Why don't you come over later? After dinner.”

They share a glance. Eventually nod. “Okay. We come, thank you. 8pm?”

“Perfect. See you later.”

We continue past their pitch and saunter to the on-site shop for an overpriced pint of milk, and a baguette for lunch.

The caravan is like a pressure cooker when we return, even with the windows, door, and ceiling vent open. I grab the utensils and salad bits, and we prepare the meal on the table outside, underneath the oversize parasol that's still going strong after 25 years of trips.

Over the sandwiches and a cool, local stubby beer each, Samantha asks. “Do you think they'll play?”

I set my sandwich down and wipe a few crumbs off my lap. “Difficult to say. She's nervier, so I think he'll be the key. Get him on board and we might stand a chance.”

“Okay, yeah. I'll pile on the charm and see where it goes.”

My dirty chuckle fills the beer bottle and I swig. “You're very good at on-boarding, my love.”

“The best.”

We finish our meal in companionable silence, both looking forward to the evening. After clearing up and reading in the shade for a while, she stands and puts her foot on the first step into the van. Her dress shifts and the tiniest peek of bare buttock slides into view. “Coming?”

I rove my gaze up from my book over her curves. Smile. “Just try and stop me.”

Following her inside the stifling heat, we giggle and strip. She bends over the table at the far end and wiggles her rump. I stroke myself to full hardness, step in, take her, and the caravan rocks with our slaps and sighs, her tits clapping together at each thrust.

We don't even close the curtains.

oOo

As evening rolls in and the temperature drops a degree or two, we're sitting out admiring the sunset over the distant mountain when our guests approach, both in T-shirts and shorts. Ksenia’s khaki pair barely reach her thighs, and Ivan’s appear to be mid-grey cycling shorts that reveal a sizable moose knuckle. Samantha is sure to notice.

“Hallo, and thank you for invite.”

I wave. “Did you bring chairs? We don't have any spares unfortunately.”

“Oh, no. I fetch…”

My wife pipes up. “Or if you can put up with the heat, we could just go inside? These flying critters are going to invade soon anyway.” She swishes the air as if to make a point.

The pair of them share a look. Shrug. “Sure. We are used to heat.”

With that decided, Samantha leads the way up the two steps, ensuring Ivan is following closely. Ksenia is next and I pause on the grass to admire the way her taut rear jiggles and peeks from the hem of her tiny shorts.

The table is set up one end—the same table we fucked over earlier—and Samantha steps in and sidles round, indicating for Ivan to go the opposite direction.

They end up side by side and I thread in at right angles to Sammy, sitting along the side wall, directly opposite Ksenia. Our feet touch.

Ivan nods. “More space than trailer tent.”

“Not by much. Have you come far?”

“From Czechoslovakia.”

“Cool. Just over the border.”

“We bring gin.”

Samantha smiles. “That's my kind of language!”

He proudly lifts the bottle from under the table and places it in the centre. Habanero, from some local new age firm. The words Small Batch are emblazoned as part of the front design.

“Is good,” he proclaims. “You try?”

Samantha is keen. “Thank you. Fetch the shot glasses, honey.”

I slide out and lift the tiny cupboard door over the side window, passing shot glasses for Ksenia to take from me, one by one. Our fingertips brush and a current zips through me as I imagine touching a lot more of her. Starting with peeling those ridiculous shorts off and kissing her panties, little cries progressively escalating before I remove the underwear too and devour the treasures beneath.

Ivan pops the cork and tips a slug into each glass. Lifts his. We all do the same.

“Na zdraví!”

We copy his salute and neck the fiery shot. To be fair, it's fairly smooth considering it's neat.

I shake my head rapidly. “Brbrbrbrr. Wow. Strong.”

Ivan smiles. “Put hair on chest, no?”

“Age is doing that for me, but yes.”

“Again?” He lifts the bottle.

“I'll go blind if I have any more.”

Sammy already has her glass on the table and nudges Ivan's arm. “Ignore the lightweight. Hit me, please. That stuff’s amazing.”

He pours three shots. Eyes her, up and down. “Na zdraví!”

They all echo and sink the clear liquid, pausing as the alcohol filters in.

Czech hospitality seems to revolve around sharing drink. “One more?”

My wife nods, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But this time, we do loopsies.”

“L… loopsies?”

“Aha. Follow my lead.” She indicates the shot glasses. Points at mine. “Him too.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine, but you're driving me to Specsavers tomorrow.”

Ivan splashes four slugs. Sammy picks hers up. Crooks her arm out to one side, pressing the shot glass to her lips, turns to face the Czech man and indicates for him to do the same. He follows suit and she threads her hand and glass through his arm loop, carefully bringing the drink back to her lips without spilling any. Their foreheads almost touch, eyes boring into one another.

Under her breath, she counts down from three, and they knock back the alcohol. Breathe, then separate. Samantha slams her shot glass down. Eyes me. “Your turn.”

I make eye contact with Ksenia, flicking my attention from glass to her. She shrugs and picks up her drink. I do the same and we both half stand, leaning forward across the table until we're close enough to awkwardly hook elbows. Her light perfume carries across the tiny gap, I whisper, “3… 2… 1…” and we chug.

The gin is no less potent second time around. Swear I can feel it needling through my veins as heat spreads.

Unthreading our interlocked arms, we plonk back to our seats. Ivan regards each of us.

“That traditional drinking way in England?”

Samantha laughs and nudges him playfully. “Not really. But it's fun. Who wants snacks?”

She puts one hand on his thigh, the other on the seat cushion and goes to make a move. Pauses and sits back down again, addressing me. “Wowie, that stuff's strong. Can you get the nibbles?”

I have to admire her seduction skills. The thigh thing was no doubt to get him used to the idea of her touching him.

Slipping free of the table again, I rummage in the cupboards for bowls, Doritos and dip.

We munch and chat. Turns out they're from a small town called Ostrov whose main claims to fame are a castle and the Red Tower Of Death. They aren't forthcoming on how it got that name, beyond local legends. Maybe nobody knows.

It's stifling in the van. Sammy stretches, her tight-fitting orange T-shirt pulled taut to reveal the outlines of her nipple bars. Ivan can't fail to notice, especially since she’s not wearing a bra. They firm under the fabric, poking obscenely at his attention, but she pretends not to notice. “Anyone fancy playing cards?”

Nods all round. I grab the deck from the drawer and take the opportunity to refill the nibble bowls. Also pop open a bottle of red and distribute glasses while Sammy shuffles and deals.

“Blackjack okay?”

She deals two cards to each player except herself. “Ivan, you're first. Stick or twist?”

He peeks at the corner of his cards. “Stick.”

She nods. “Ksenia?”

Regarding her hand, she elects to twist. Twice, then sticks. I twist, but pull a picture card and flip my cards. “Bust.”

Sammy takes a card, thinks and decides to stick. The others reveal their hands, and her 9 and Ace beat everyone else, including Ivan’s 19.

Wine flows. She always gets handsy when drinking, and the flirting intensifies, using every opportunity to brush, touch or nudge Ivan. A skim of his thigh. A loaded glance. A hand on his muscly bicep when he makes a joke. Ksenia notices. Bristles a bit, but does nothing.

The rounds go on until Sammy announces, “How about we make it interesting?”

I catch her eye, knowing full well where she's heading. My cock stirs. “How so?”

She smiles. Slurs a little. “Well Ivan here,” she pats his thigh, “has been dying to see my tits all night, haven't you?”

“I… uhh,” he goldfishes. Eyes his wife. Swallows. “No.”

“No?” Sammy cups them. Lifts. Lets go and they bounce to a standstill. “Sure about that? How about we wager our tops? It's roasting in here after all.”

Ksenia shakes her head and folds her arms. She's played conservatively all night, so her reluctance is understandable. “I watch.”

Ivan is clearly torn. Solidarity with his wife is the correct course of action, but pressed alongside him is my wife. And she can be very persuasive. Under the table, Sammy slips her hand up his thigh a little farther and, from his wide-eyed reaction, brushes his cock through the lycra.

“C’mon, Ivan. One round. You're on a winning streak.”

He side-eyes her tits. Then to Ksenia. Then tits. Then his wife again, who gives the faintest of shrugs. Not approval, more… ambivalence. Ivan exhales. “One game.”

Sammy claps her hands and drains her last mouthful of red wine. Shuffles and deals.

He lifts the corner of his cards from the table. Ponders while Sammy hovers her hand over the deck. “Stick?” She licks her lips. “Or twist?”

He peeks again. Eyes her. “Twist.”

She deals him a card. He lifts it. Eyes Ksenia. “Stick.”

It's my turn: “Twist... Twist... Stick.”

All eyes swivel to Sammy as she peeps at her cards. “I'll twist.” She does. Then sticks. “Okay. Moment of truth. Dealer has 20.” She turns her cards face up.

I flip mine over. “Same.”

She turns to Ivan and he reveals his cards one by one. “10… 7… and…” he pauses and smiles. “4.”

We all breathe out and Sammy nods. “Well played.” Reaching down to the hem of her T-shirt, she grips hers. “Come on then, honey.” I pull my top off and drop it beside me, noticing Ksenia's fleeting glance at my chest.

Sammy peels her top up and off, shaking her blonde mane and making her bare tits wobble as she chucks the garment at me.

Ivan gawps. I think they both do. The overhead spotlights catch the silver bars that pierce her nipples. “Whaddya think?”

He nods. “Lovely.”

They're more than lovely, but I know he's playing it coy because his wife is there.

Sammy cups them and shimmies. “You can't fully appreciate them by simply staring. Here.” She slips her hand under the table, grasps his wrist and brings it up, placing the palm firmly on one large boob. “How about now?”

He's a little dumbfounded. Just sits there, probably nursing the beginnings of an impressive erection, her nipple under his palm.

“Squeeze,” she urges. “They're all natural.”

He eyes his wife, indentations forming beneath his fingertips as he gently increases pressure.

“Mmm, that's it. More.”

His breathing picks up as the grip tightens, and she sighs. “Ohh yeah. Harder. That's it. Now play with the cap.”

His throat ripple precedes his hand shifting to capture the stiff peak. Unsure of what to do, he takes hold of the bar edges. And waits.

“Pull,” she breathes. “Twist.”

Hesitantly at first, he emboldens as her groan forms and he tugs and twirls the bar, deforming her breast flesh. The nipple is clearly already hard, and firms further.

“Honey,” her glazed eyes swivel to mine. “Please.”

I reach across and clutch her free breast. Squeeze, pinch and tug, the way she adores as her eyes roll back. Her head follows suit and she sighs. “Yess. So exciting.”

Ksenia observes my strumpet of a wife having her boobs massaged by men either side of her. Each grope and twist seems to send her spiralling deeper into Nirvana. I've seen her like this before when we were first playing with an on-off couple, Greg and Helen, who we met on holiday and remained friends after. We periodically meet up, sink a few bottles of wine, and spend the night a tangle of limbs, indulging in the pleasures of each other’s spouse.

Sammy drops her hands to her lap, slithers one beneath the waistband of her shorts and withdraws, fingers glistening in the spotlights. Batting away Ivan's hand, she paints her nipple with juices. Grips her tit and lifts it towards him. “Taste.”

He freezes. Throws Ksenia a furtive glance. She's impassive, arms still folded. He raises an eyebrow. She doesn't shake her head. Nor does she nod as he creeps his head lower towards the offering, the scent of my horny woman growing stronger with every inch. His wife just stares until he makes contact. Wraps his mouth around the nipple and its jewellery, and sucks, at which point she stands sharply, sidles from the bench seat and strides to the exit.

Ivan stops. “Ksenia!” Goes to follow her, but I put my hand up.

“I'll go.”

She's standing outside, staring into the distance, thumbs in her shorts pockets. I approach. Stand alongside her, listening to the crickets chirping.

After a long moment, she speaks. “You do this often?”

“Play with other couples? Yes.” I offer a shrug. “It's exciting.”

“How…?” She falters. Doesn't even have a sentence as she tries to wrap her head around the concept.

I swallow. “I enjoy watching my wife happy. Filled. And she likes watching me with other women. It keeps our marriage spicy.”

She thinks. “You don't… jealous?”

“It's complicated. But no.” I stroke my stubble. “After all these years, I don't love her any less, and I promise Ivan won't love you any less. It's just adult fun to blow off steam. You might be surprised.” As a sweetener, I add. “It's liberating.”

We stand there overlooking the campsite. The odd peal of laughter or clatter of dishes or whirr of the hand dryer in the toilet block carries across the airless night.

I put my hand on her shoulder and she startles. “It's up to you. You can join us or I can go in and ask Ivan to leave with you. No hard feelings either way. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

She nods. Takes a shaky breath. “Let me think.”

I brush all the way down her arm as my hand drops. “Of course. No hurry.”

Back inside, Sammy and Ivan are talking. She's bigging up our lifestyle, still topless, and they both regard me expectantly. “Give her a few minutes.”

Shuffling in to retake my seat, I lean in and kiss Samantha, instinctively sliding my hand up her body to cup the closest breast. I pause. “God I want you.”

She giggles as I squeeze her tit. “We have guests.”

I look across. “Do you mind?”

Ivan shakes his head. Watches as I resume kissing her and massaging the ample flesh that spills around my hand. Sammy moans and tips her head back as I feast on her neck and pinch a nipple. She drifts a hand from her lap to Ivan's, creeping up his thigh and inward to more overtly stroke and cup his dick through the thin shorts.

She’s an excellent cock tease. Knows the perfect pressure, the perfect touches or breaths to make a man hard, and it seems Ivan is no exception. I don't need to see his crotch to know he's swelling inside his clothes; the burgeoning excitement is obvious on his face as she traces fingertips up and down. Grips his package. Squeezes and strokes it.

I'm in the process of working her nipple with my tongue when Ksenia returns. Stands in the short corridor as we all pause and she regards our chain of arousal, flitting her attention from person to person. Like she's either weighing it up, or judging us.

The atmosphere is thick with the combination of heat and her presence. Eventually, she drifts her hands to the hem of her top and peels it up and off. Drops it on the van floor and reaches behind to unhook her blue bra. With a shimmy, it drops from her shoulders to pool at her feet and all three of us take a breath.

She's exquisite. Dark locks dust her firm tits, a tiny uplift where the pastel pink nipples perch. So biteable. Beneath her right breast is a faint curved splodge of a birth mark leading down her side to a toned midriff.

Taking a cautious step over her clothes, she approaches the table. Sits opposite me again. Settles. The atmosphere alters. Becomes charged, and Ivan takes advantage of it by leaning in and capturing Sammy's other nipple in his mouth. She gasps and resumes stroking his cock through his shorts. Then helps him wriggle them down for better access.

Our hair brushes as we work my wife's tits, lapping and sucking the firm peaks until she inhales, grits her teeth and commands, “Bite them.”

We do and she groans. Hisses for more. The pressure increases, teeth clacking the metal bars, and she grips Ivan's shaft under the table. Wanks him until he moans into her breast flesh.

I pull away from Sammy. Ksenia sits still, observing, then begins idly stroking one breast as her husband continues to lick, bite and groan. With me out of the way, he brings a hand into play on Sammy's other globe, focusing solely on her pleasure.

Placing my hand flat on the table, I slide it forward, eyeing Ksenia as it nears. She doesn't stop me. Nor when I lean forward, lift and place it on her breast. She just exhales and closes her eyes as I toy with the soft orb and its firming nipple, such a contrast to my wife. Her lower lip catches between her teeth when I cup and pinch her cap.

Sammy isn't the most patient person when she gets horny. I glance over and she's grabbed Ivan's hand, digging it beneath her shorts as she continues to stroke his length. Her sighs deepen in the confined space when his fingers hit the jackpot, slipping over her clit and tucking into her wet folds. They continue to masturbate one another side by side, and he relinquishes his mouth from her nipple to tip his head back and enjoy the hand job.

My erection is straining against my shorts and I reach down to rearrange things, continuing to fondle the Czech woman's chest, her sighs joining Sammy's.

The heat in the van is amplified as our actions ramp up, and soon enough, Sammy needs more. “Ksenia, please can I borrow your husband? I need him to fuck me.”

She blinks. “Where you take him?”

Sammy smiles. Taps the table top. “Right here, honey.”

“Oh, o… okay.”

It's clear she's worried. I spot the signs. “Remember what we talked about? He won't love you any less. And Sammy isn't going to steal him. She's mine.” I lean in and whisper loud enough for the others to hear, “After we finish.”

There's no further discussion. Ivan and Sammy separate and she helps him step up onto the bench seat in the cramped conditions, turns him around and sits him on the table facing the rear van window. The curtains still aren't closed.

She leans forward, wraps her lips around his impressive member and spends a short while lapping and sucking him. Little moans of satisfaction drift from her throat as his sharper inhalations signal his state of arousal. She works her mouth over the thick glans and sinks to swallow him whole. Holds. Coughs and withdraws, saliva looping as she wipes a stray tear from her eye.

A few more such sucks and he's ramrod stiff. Primed. She clambers to stand on the seat, hunches a little near the ceiling and pulls her shorts down, tossing them up the corridor. Straddling him, she peels her damp knickers aside, wets her fingers and kneels, reaching to smear arousal up his veined shaft before grabbing it and guiding it into her slit.

They both groan as she sinks onto his length. Anyone passing would get an eyeful of her bottom rocking in a rhythm as he clutches her behind and she rides his stiffness, groans escalating.

I step out from the bench seat and guide Ksenia by the hand to perch against the leading edge of the table. Diagonally back to back with her husband, she grips the table edge as I sink to my knees, facing her khaki shorts. I unsnap the button. Tug them down. Then gaze up at her quaking form as I slide my hands up her toned thighs and hook my fingertips into the waistband of her cute blue underwear.

It's soon pooled on the floor and she's naked before me, her bush slightly flattened by the hot day inside the garment. I glide my hand to it and rub to fluff it up. She gasps. Doubly when I lean in and place my face there, breathing her musky tang in deeply. She colours and I follow it up with my tongue, gently lapping until her eyes drift shut.

Her knuckles whiten as I tease my tongue between her moistening folds and rest my nose against her emerging clit. I rock my face in sync with the soft slaps of my wife's thighs against Ivan's as she rides him, barely a foot away.

Ksenia snaps her eyes open when I bury my tongue deep and begin to tongue fuck her delicious slit. I occasionally slip my mouth upwards to nuzzle and suck her clit, but primarily let my tongue work inside her heavenly pussy.

I know I'm hitting all the right spots when she clutches the back of my head and holds me to her cunt, gasps rising before a lengthy shudder surges through her. A series of mewls tumble from her throat, and as they fade away, a single word takes their place. “Please.”

I stop. Gaze up at her, my mouth glistening with her juices. Stand. “Please what?” Her attention lowers. Focuses. She tenses as I undo and unzip my shorts, letting them fall to the floor. I tug my stiff cock free of my undies. “You want this?”

She stares. Bites her lip. Nods fast and I step in. “Like this?” I place the tip at her entrance. She nods again. I swipe up and down to wet it, line up, pause again, then ease inside.

Fuck, she's tight. Her gasp cuts through the noises my wife and Ivan are making, and they slow to glance over. Ksenia's mouth falls open as I sink deeper and she tips her head back, hair brushing her husband's bicep.

When I'm fully inside and she's adjusted to me being there, I start with a steady rhythm, fucking her, watching the way her mouth changes shape as her inhibitions fade further. I love how she responds to the tempo shift, her mouth closing and opening to let short gasps escape.

Every few strokes, she becomes wetter, the gentle slaps of our actions mingling with my wife's groans as she rides Ivan's rod. The scent of arousal drifts in the confined space, and I slide my hands up the Czech woman's gentle curves to paw her tits, squeezing and thumbing the pliable caps. I grip them. Tug a little. She exhales sharply.

Our eyes connect. I plunge into her and halt. Raise an eyebrow. “Stick?”

She shakes her head. I tighten my grip on her nipples. Pull my cock out and slam in once to the hilt.

“Stick?”

She chews her lip. “Twist.”

I increase the pressure again. Twirl my fingers a few degrees. Withdraw and ram inside one stroke.

“Stick?”

Conflict briefly surfaces. Then she swallows. “Twist.”

I comply and she gasps hard. “Oh god. Twist.”

Rotating my fingertips, her rasps rise, emitting a shriek when I haul my cock free fully and bury it back inside, splitting her tight folds. “Stick. Stick!”

We don't move until she reaches out to grab my hips, pulling me into her and leans back a bit to hook her legs around me, heels digging into my butt. I let go of her nipples and resume fucking, picking up speed. “Yeah, you like that huh? Getting fucked next to your husband. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock?”

She nods. Worries her lip again with her teeth and whimpers as I plough into her.

My attention lifts to my wife bouncing on Ivan, her face a picture of lust, hair swaying as she grips his shoulders and rides harder. So beautiful to see her this way, lost in ecstasy as she in turn watches me ruining someone else.

Ksenia's orgasm rips my focus back on her. She freezes and sighs, shivering as her pussy ripples around my buried length. It's so intensely hot to witness, I feel the bubbling of my own end. “God. Gonna cum. Want me to pull out?”

Her response is swift. “No. Inside. It's okay.”

I hadn't expected anything else; her child-bearing days are over, but felt it polite to ask. With consent in place, I grab her tits, a growl forming in my throat and I grind deeper into her, slamming in and holding still as I pulse against the tail end of her climax. She tips her head back, tilts it towards her husband and leans in. With her breath on his cheek, he turns to face her and they share a deep kiss.

He groans repeatedly into her mouth, grip tightening on Sammy’s hips and unloads inside her, quivering. That tips her over the edge and she moans up at the ceiling, grinding in his lap, hand snapping to her clit and drawing rough circles to intensify the high.

Sighs and gasps crest, meshing in haphazard rhythms as we each peak and ebb, floating in pleasure, together.

None of us move for a long moment, basking in the shared release chain. Sammy is first to move, lifting off him, a stream of spunk splatting back around his still hard dick.

She wriggles clear and shuffles back to the seat, tugging her knickers into place to contain the rest. She knows how much I adore fucking another man's cum from her later, while I call her filthy names. I reverse, releasing Ksenia. She lies back, panting, cum leaking from her messy, pretty cunt.

When she recovers, she props herself on her elbows, regards the splotches on her husband's withering shaft and rolls over to suck and lick him clean. Both of us stare, wide-eyed. From such a reticent start, the pair have kicked into high gear quickly.

She jolts when I brush her open pussy, and scoop dollops of my cum from her dark, matted pubes. Reaching over their bodies, I let it drizzle from my fingertips onto his cock, whereby Ksenia hungrily vacuums it clean. Sammy watches, amused and aroused, idly stroking her bare breasts.

After Ivan’s cock glistens with only saliva, his wife sits up fully, hops off the table and strolls past me to fetch her clothes, dressing provocatively in front of us all. I toss Sammy's top and shorts to her, while Ivan and I tend to our clothing.

Once presentable, there's a silence threaded between the particles carrying the scent of sex. I half expect Ksenia to return for more, or Ivan to suggest they leave so they can continue alone, but in fact it's Ksenia who takes the lead.

“Thank you for… eye-opening. And patience.”

I wave away the compliment. “Glad you enjoyed yourselves.”

Ivan thanks us too, slithers around the seat, and exits into the short corridor to join his wife, slipping his hand in hers and squeezing. She turns back at the doorway. “You have plans tomorrow night?”

Sammy and I exchange a glance and I swear both our heartbeats ratchet in tandem. I shake my head. A smile plays on Ksenia's lips.

“Good. You want play?”