“Have you ever had any… kinky fantasies?” I asked my boyfriend one day.

We were lying in bed together one Sunday morning, still breathing hard from our last orgasms. The rain was coming down outside, and it was a perfect day to spend wrestling in the sheets, and enjoying the inherent laziness of the day. 

Marc, my boyfriend of the past three years, rose up on one elbow. “Well, that depends. What do you mean by kinky?”

I grinned and rolled over to face him. “You know… something you’ve always wanted to try. Something other than vanilla sex.”

“Vanilla sex?” He laughed, but I could tell he was a little hurt. “I didn’t know this was all vanilla to you”.

“It’s not!” I said, quickly backtracking. “But you know what I mean… have you ever wanted to try something different? Maybe something you’ve read about or seen in a porn video, and never really had the chance to experiment with”.

He shrugged and he fell back on his pillow. I could tell he was in deep contemplation over how he was supposed to respond. I quickly realized that I should have known better than to put him on the spot. Marc’s collection of pornography had always been very straight and mainstream, with the occasional girl-on-girl action, and barely-legal thrown into the mix. I sank back against the sheets, afraid that he might think that I had some kind of closet deviant tendencies that I had been keeping hidden up until then.

We hadn’t really talked much about sex during our relationship. The fact that it was happening regularly and that it was pretty good overall, seemed to be enough for both of us. I was 24 years old, and Marc was my first serious boyfriend. We had met at university during a sorority/frat mixer. He was an athlete, and had the tall, broad shouldered good looks that had me weak at the knees almost from day one. It had been easy enough to catch his attention at that party. I had been wearing the shortest little skirt, and had gone braless in a sexy new white halter-top. I had dressed for that party very quickly and hadn’t realized that the fabric was almost transparent. The outline of my nipples was obviously visible to anyone that might have given me a second glance. While I had been getting more than my usual share of attention at that party, I had been pretty clueless about it, until Marc walked up to me and whispered the nature of my accidental display into my ear. I had been so embarrassed that he took off his jacket, and let me wear it for the rest of the night. That’s when I knew he was a good guy. And after having dated a string of bad-boys, I realized it was maybe time to take some well-meaning advice and try a different kind of guy.

The three years of our relationship had been amazing. Marc was a perfect boyfriend in almost every way. He treated me like a princess, he was doting and generous, and my friends and family absolutely adored him.

“He’s a keeper Jenna,” my mom had said when she met him at a family BBQ. “Don’t let this one get away.”

And its not that I planned on letting him get away. Her logic was right. Marc was total marriage material. It was just that… having been a bit of a bad girl my whole life, and being really sexually adventurous during my early university years, my sex life with Marc had become rather stable, and maybe just a little boring. I still loved being with him, but everything had become so predictable and so relegated to the bedroom. Marc had never been one for spontaneous sex, and so, most of the time, I knew that after a party or a night out, we’d come home, brush our teeth, get into bed, and then reach for each other as though on auto-pilot. It was almost as thought the script had been written out for us ahead of time and we were just mindlessly following along.

I had tried asking Marc about his previous sexual adventures, but I quickly realized that there had been nothing particularly shocking or unusual in his past. He had wholesome girlfriends, he played football, and he was a great stand-up guy. There were no threesomes or fetishes or wild sex stories in his past. I had always been aware of this, and uneasily so, because it made me feel like I had to hide so much of my own history. He still didn’t know about my bisexual experiences, or the threesomes and crazy vacation sex hook-ups that I’d enjoyed before we’d met. And I didn’t want him to see me “that way”. I wanted him to see me as a good girl... the kind of girl he could envision marrying one day.

But on that dark, rainy Sunday morning, I couldn’t help but want to probe, just a little. Part of me wondered if Marc maybe did have an edge and was hiding it for the same reasons I was. Those were my secret hopes, anyway.

“Well what did you have in mind?” he asked, after a long silence. I could tell from the tone in his voice that he was still slightly offended by my reference to ‘vanilla sex’. 

“I just thought that… I don’t know… maybe we could surprise each other one night. Maybe we could try a little role-play. Maybe I could dress up… Or you could tie me up.”

“Tie you up? You’re into that? Like ball-gags and gimp masks and all that shit?”

“No,” I laughed, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “I’m just thinking it could be fun to spice things up.”

“Right.”

“Baby, I’m not saying this because I don’t absolutely love being with you. I just thought it might make things a little more fun.”

There was another long baited silence. I was going to make a joke about hearing ‘crickets chirping’ in order to break the awkward tension of the moment, but he spoke, and quickly surprised me with what he said.

“Maybe. I mean I guess we could try.”

“Really?” I cried, almost too eagerly.

He turned on his side, and suddenly his blue eyes were sparkling. “Maybe I’ll surprise you for our anniversary next week.”

I smiled, excited that he was getting into it. “Do you have something in mind already?”

“No”, he said. “Not yet. But I’ll think of something. I’ll just have to put some thought into it first. And I guess I can always ask some of the guys for ideas.”

I rolled my eyes. Marc was living in a beautiful 4-bedroom house in the trendiest part of the city. It had quickly become known as the party-house. He had two roommates, Jack and Ryder. Jack played on the football team with Marc, and had been his best friend since junior high. Ryder had been a casual friend of Jack’s but somehow had never seemed to fit into the sports obsessed vibe of the house. Ryder played in a band, cruised the after hours circuit, and always seemed to be up to trouble. Many nights, while I lay in the upstairs bedroom with Marc, I could hear Ryder and his latest flavor-of-the-week girl fucking like wild dogs in the downstairs bedroom. I didn’t particularly like him, only because he seemed like such a jerk to the girls he dated. He had a kind of arrogance I remembered from my past boyfriends, and it was an attitude I was trying to avoid. Despite his reputation, he still seemed to get more than his fair share of girls. It was something that I know irritated Jack, who was always relegated to playing the second string wing-man when they went out together.

While I had no respect for Ryder, I started to think that he might be a good source of creative sexual ideas for Marc. I realized it might be useful for my boyfriend to tap into Ryder’s brain and maybe start to expand his mind about being more sexually experimental. Certainly his roommate was more than qualified based on the array of girls I saw him bring home, and the depraved noises that I always heard coming from that bedroom.

I kissed Marc, and got up to slip on the short pink robe I kept at his house. I realized a reward was in order, and hopefully might even give him the incentive to really step up his game.

“I’m going to make you breakfast in bed,” I announced. “Just to show you just how much I love having the best boyfriend in the world.”

He smiled, watching the sway of my ass under the short robe as I walked out of the bedroom. I took a quick look in the bathroom mirror. I still had bed head. I have long blond hair and it was still a mess from our morning sex play, but I didn’t care. It was Sunday after all.

I walked past Jack’s room, which was still closed and went down to the kitchen on the main floor. I started to make bacon and eggs, taking care to be as quiet as possible, knowing that Ryder’s bedroom was just down the hall. Around the time I was pouring the orange juice, I heard a loud, strangled moan coming from that direction. I froze for a minute and listened. The sounds continued, and I could hear muffled talking and then more moaning. Unable to resist, I crept on my tip-toes towards the vicinity of the noises.

Ryder’s bedroom door was ajar, and as I got closer, I could hear a girl’s voice.

“Mmmm yeah…. fuck me harder!”

I knew I should have run back to the kitchen immediately. I had no right to be peering into his bedroom door. After all, he was just fucking yet another girl. But I froze when I heard another distinctly different honeyed voice cooing.

“Oooh, you love it when I suck your balls, don’t you? You heard what she said, fuck her harder!”

My eyes, widened. Was he having a Sunday morning threesome? The door hung open, almost invitingly, and I took a few steps forward and pressed myself against the wall, and looked inside.

There was a petite and curvy brunette on her knees on the bed, lurching forward. Her hands were clasped together and had been bound by one of Ryder’s ties. They were fastened to a rung on his wooden headboard, keeping her slightly off balance as she struggled to absorb the heavy thrusts as Ryder pounded her hard from behind. I could hear the loud slapping of his hips against her ass as he fucked her, making her heavy breasts bounce together from the force of his movements.

Ryder’s hands were gripping her hips, leaving red marks in their wake, interspersed with the occasional heavy handed slap against her ass.

“You fucking like that, don’t you?”

From my vantage point I could almost see the beads of sweat on his forehead and the snarl of his smile as he continued the steady quick thrusts.

My eyes then continued further down the length of this sordid scene until I could just make out the a spill of black hair just behind him, and a small pair of hands on his ass, while the second girl steadied herself to the rhythm of his thrusts while she eagerly dove into the core of their sex, sucking his pussy-soaked balls, and then diving in to get a lick of his slippery wet cock as it slid in and out.

“How does she feel, baby? You like fucking my best friend, don’t you?”

My eyes widened. I recognized the voice immediately. It was Sabrina, Ryder’s latest girlfriend. They had been dating for a few months, and I had grown used to seeing her around the house. I had always suspected her to be a wild girl, but I was still amazed as I watched the scene unfold. I could feel the stirrings immediately, making me feel wet in response to seeing such hot lusty fucking in such an unexpected way. I wanted to move, but somehow I couldn’t. I felt almost in a daze; utterly transfixed and unable to turn away. 

My nerves were on edge in an unexpected way. I had never watched people have sex before, and certainly not this kind of sex. I quickly realized that the one threesome I’d been involved in during spring break was rather tame in comparison. It had been awkward, and alcohol infused. This seemed very lucid, and very primal. There was an aggressive sexuality about all of them that had me instantly and unexpectedly aroused. It was against my better judgment. But I was paralyzed by the moment, torn by my intentions to be a good girlfriend, and conversely by the darker desires I obviously had not yet resolved.

I realized I was still naked beneath my robe, and I pressed myself against the wall, unconsciously sliding my hand down, and then up and under my short robe. My fingers ran over my smooth pussy lips. It was still swollen with the remains of Marc’s cum from earlier that morning, and now was I was freely dripping wet again, as my excitement built watching his roommate fucking these two girls. My heart raced, half fearful one of them would turn and see me watching, and yet unable to care enough to stop what I was doing.

I rubbed my clit between two fingers, while sliding a third digit up inside my pulsing pussy. Ryder had momentarily pulled out of the brunette and slid back off the bed so that he was standing and Sabrina, still on her knees, moved her mouth over his cock, licking and slurping at the combined juices of her boyfriend and her best friend. He groaned and held her head, fucking her mouth with almost the same intensity as he had been fucking her friend’s pussy. I was amazed that Sabrina was able to keep up this momentum without gagging. The expert way she obliged each thrust and the look of ecstasy on his face caused a heat to flare within me. 

Marc and I had just had sex twice that morning, but somehow I felt even more turned on just watching this scene unfold, than I had during either time we had made love. A lick of excitement went through me as I imagined what might happen if I joined them. It was just a momentary fantasy, and nothing I would have acted on given my commitment to Marc, but the idea of it had my pussy gushing around my fingers, as I built myself up to a crescendo peak of heat and electricity, teasing my clit with renewed focus.

“Don’t forget about me, guys,” the brunette called over her shoulder. She had been watching them too.

“You still want more of my cock too, don’t you?” Ryder said, brushing Sabrina aside to walk up to the foot of the bed.

“Yesss….” I heard her gasp, before she was silenced, and replaced with the wet slurping sounds of her mouth sliding over the length of his shaft. I couldn’t see as well from the way he was positioned, but was left to admire his round, well defined ass clenching and unclenching as his hips propelled him forward, into her mouth. 

Sabrina was quick on her feet and scrambled up onto the bed to slide herself under her best friend, spreading her legs so that her pussy was positioned over her mouth. Her arms went up to clamp over the girl’s thighs and she drew her down over her face, sucking her pussy with renewed enthusiasm. Her friend’s moans were still audible, though muffled by the cock moving in and out of her mouth.

The entire visual of this live pornographic scene intensified in my mind. Suddenly I found myself imagining that I was either of those girls. Watching all this twisted sex and heat had me only too aware of what I’d been missing. It drew me up and out of myself, forgetting I was Marc’s girlfriend, or potential wife material, or anything other than a primal animal in need of complete carnal abandon. I bit down hard on my lip as the familiar excitement built up inside me. I rubbed my clit faster, leaning back harder against the wall to steady myself. Finally I felt myself coming in a long orgasmic wave that had my legs shaking, while I tried to restrain my moans. 

Breathing hard, I suddenly came back to the reality of where I was, and what I had been doing. Half mortified with myself, I scrambled back to the kitchen. I leaned forward on the counter, shocked by what I had just done. And even more shocked that I had gotten away with it! I looked at the breakfast plate of cold eggs and bacon, and felt a pang of guilt. Quickly I put everything away, trying to erase the images from my mind, and put the plate into the microwave to heat. 

It was then that I heard a noise in the hallway. It was Ryder. He walked into the kitchen, now wearing just a pair of boxer shorts. He was all lean muscle, very similar in body type to Marc, but his hair was dark and messy, and he had a kind of swagger that was very different from Marc. He was certainly no college football hero. He gave me a half grin, not at all shy about what he was wearing or what he had just been doing. I, on other hand, felt my face flame with embarrassment. 

“Hey Jenna,” he said, yawning and opening the fridge to retrieve the pitcher of orange juice.

“Good morning,” I said, looking away.

He noticed...