Let me set the scene: My name is Lisa. I’m 45 young and married to an amazing husband, and I’ve just got back from a night out with my bestie and plenty of wine. The night was pretty uneventful apart from some flirting with the hot younger guy at the bar, who was young enough to be my son, but he was hot and certainly made me tingle in ways he shouldn’t have, but I was a very good girl and came home horny to my husband.

I took off my heels and bounced a little down the hall. The living room light was on. The TV blared.

"Lisa!" Barry's voice came from the couch. "You're back early."

I rounded the corner and stopped.

Barry was sitting in his usual spot, beer in hand. Now I was slightly surprised to see someone sitting on the armchair; it was Marcus. Barry's friend from work. A man I'd met a few times now, usually at things, BBQs, Christmas parties, and work events. Not going to lie, he is a very handsome man, tall, with broad shoulders and giant hands that looked like they'd know exactly what to do with them.

"Hey, Lisa." Marcus smiled, easy and unhurried. "Hope you don't mind; I was lonely tonight, and Barry said I could hang and watch the football."

"Of course not; from what Barry said, it’s an important game." My voice came out a little too bright. I dropped my bag by the door and straightened up my dress, the usual little black dress for a girly night, fitted, with a neckline that had been doing a lot of work all night, showing off my very ample breasts.

"I'm going to grab some wine," I said, not sure if I needed any more, but I might as well join in. 

Neither of them looked away from the screen.

I walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and the cool air hit my nipples, and then frustration hit me. I'd been thinking about Barry's hands on me all the way home in the Uber. The way he gets when I come home tipsy, he knows how dirty I can be after a few wines and knows how to tease me. Now there was a Marcus-shaped roadblock in my living room.

I pulled a glass from the cabinet, poured the wine, and took a sip.

An idea formed, reckless, probably a wine-fueled idea, but still an idea.

I walked back into the living room and perched on the arm of the sofa, right by Barry's shoulder. Leaned in close. Let my dress ride up a little.

I leaned into Barry’s ear. "Babe," I murmured low enough that Marcus might catch it but not quite. "I'm really tired. Maybe Marcus should head home so we can head to bed."

Barry chuckled. He didn't look at me. "It's extra time; I need to see if Arsenal wins the Champions League. Can you hang on?”

I bit my lip; if at first you don’t succeed, etc., so I tried a different approach. I rested my hand on the back of his neck and let my nails drag around his neck.

"Barry." My voice was softer now. Needier.

He rested his hand on my thigh. “Soon, I promise, this is almost done."

The wetness between my legs was not helped by his hand on my thigh.

I looked over at Marcus. He was watching me now, a smile on his lips. Maybe he knew what I was trying to do; of course he knew. I was practically crawling out of my skin.

So a new plan formed, probably an even worse plan: let’s flirt with Marcus enough to make Barry jealous. Just enough to send him packing, and then I'd have my husband all to myself. Genius plan 

I shifted my weight. Let my little black dress ride up another inch. Turned to Marcus with a smile that I hoped looked seductive and not desperate.

"So, Marcus. How's work?" I draped an arm, letting my fingers toy with the ends of my hair. "Barry never tells me anything."

Marcus's eyes looked down to my legs, then back up. "Keeps me busy. Long hours."

"Long hours." I let out a laugh, probably louder than it should be. “That sounds lonely."

Barry let out a small laugh. Was it aimed at me? The football match had gone quiet as it was the end of the first half of extra time.

"Lisa, stop flirting with Marcus," he said, almost teasingly. "You're going to give him the wrong idea."

I froze. That wasn't the reaction I wanted. He was supposed to be jealous, not amused.

"I'm not flirting," I said, a little too fast; I could feel my cheeks blushing.

"Sure you are." Barry finally looked at me, and there was a glint in his eye I didn't recognize. A flicker of something, not sure what it was.

“You're doing that thing where you twirl your hair and laugh at everything."

Marcus chuckled. "I wasn't complaining."

The redness in my cheeks was getting worse. "I was just being friendly."

Barry set his beer down. Turned to face me fully. "You know what? I think you should show him."

I blinked. "Show him what?"

"Exactly how friendly you can be."

Wow, that was a surprise. Something that I wasn't quite ready for, I glanced at Marcus; his expression had sharpened, alert, waiting for me or Barry to say or do something.

"I don't know what," I started.

"Come on," Barry's voice was casual, but his eyes were locked on mine, looking me up and down. “You've been torturing him all night with that little black dress. Give us a show."

My mouth went dry. This wasn't the plan. This was wrong. 

But was this exactly what I wanted? From flirting at the bar to flirting with Marcus? 

Thoughts were flying through my brain at a million miles an hour, and it frightened me. My nipples had tightened against the fabric of my little black dress. My breath was coming shallow.

"Barry, I don't think..."

"Unless you're scared." His smile was slow, calculating. "Are you scared, babe?"

Wow, he is now challenging me; I can’t back down. I don’t like losing.

Slowly, I stood. Marcus's eyes tracked me as I moved across the room.

"Fine," I said, and my own voice sounded foreign to me. "But Barry, you asked for this, and whatever happens is your fault."

I started with my hair. I reached up, pulled the clip out, and let the dark waves tumble over my shoulders. Barry and Marcus’s breathing getting a bit heavier, Marcus put down his beer bottle.

I asked Siri to play some music and started to dance, letting my hips flow with the music. I can’t dance to save my life, but I thought that showing off my breasts and ass to the boys was my best option. 

Then the little black dress. The zipper at my side. I dragged it down slowly inch by inch, watching their faces as the fabric loosened, empowering me. The black material slid over my hips, slowly down my thighs, landing at my feet before I stepped out of it.

I was standing in the middle of the lounge in my black lace bra and matching panties. The kind that I save for Barry for when I know I will be wanting to seduce him later.

"Wow," Marcus said. 

Barry just leaned back, spreading his arms along the top of the sofa. "Are you going to keep going?”

My hands trembled as I reached behind me. The bra clasp came undone with a click that sounded like it was louder than the music. I held it over my tits, did a twirl, and then I let it fall to the floor.

Neither of them looked at my face. They were staring at my tits; Barry has always been a breast man. It got me more excited that Marcus seemed to appreciate mine as well.

The air was cool on my nipples, and they were already stiff.

"Panties too," Barry said. It wasn't a request; his breathing was getting heavier.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband, wiggled my ass, and pushed them down. Stepped out. I can’t believe it. I was naked now, naked in front of them both. OMG, the thrill of it! I was soaking wet.

I looked over at the men; they had their hands on their cocks. Barry had unzipped himself, the cock I had seen millions of times before, slowly stroking himself, but Marcus, wow, Marcus had pulled out something else entirely.

Longer. Thicker. Like something I had only seen in porn films 

I made an audible gasp.

I couldn't look away. The size of it made my pussy clench. What would that feel like inside me? What does it taste like? Barry noticed my attention. He laughed, a knowing sound.

"Like what you see, babe?"

I couldn't form words. I just nodded.

“Do you want a closer look?" Barry said.

Again, I just nodded. 

"Then get on your knees."

I didn't hesitate. The carpet was rough against my knees, but I didn't care. I moved forward until I was between them, my mouth level with two cocks, one familiar, one just wow, huge. My hands found them both, wrapping around the cocks, marvelling at the difference in my grip.

Barry was familiar. Marcus was a stretch just to hold; couldn’t get my hand all the way around.

I leaned forward and took Barry into my mouth first, bobbing slowly, tasting his familiar taste. But my eyes were on Marcus's cock, hovering near my cheek, thick and waiting.

Barry said, "Don't ignore him; I’m sure he would like your attention."

I pulled off and turned. Opened my mouth for Marcus's cock.

The head was heavy on my tongue. I took as much as I could, but he was too big to fit deep. I worked him with my lips and my hand, more saliva than air, gagging slightly.

"God, look at her," Marcus groaned. "She's gorgeous and seems to like my cock."

Barry pressed his cock against my lips. I took him in again, alternating, losing track of time. Spit is dripping down my chin, dripping onto my breasts. The two of them moaning.

I pulled away, gasping. "I need..." My voice was broken. "I need to be fucked."

Barry tilted his head. "Who do you want first?"

My eyes went to Marcus. To that thick, gorgeous cock, “Him."

"I need him inside me. I need him to fill me."

Marcus's eyes widened. Barry let out a low whistle.

I turned around before I could lose my nerve, pressing my hands to the floor, arching my back. Presenting myself. My pussy was soaked, practically dripping.

"Do it," I breathed. "Please. Fuck me."

Marcus knelt behind me. The head of his cock pressed against my entrance, and I cried out- just the head, and I could already feel the stretch.

"Go slow," Barry murmured. "She's tight."

Marcus pushed. I felt myself give way around him, inch after inch; his thickness was amazing; I’ve never felt anything like it. I moaned loud, almost animal-like, unashamed.

"Yes, oh my god, that is amazing."

He must be getting close to getting all of him inside me. I was so full I couldn't think. He was bigger than Barry, deeper than anyone or anything had been before, and when he pulled out and slammed back in, I screamed.

"Just like that, oh fuck, don't stop."

He fucked me hard. Brutal. Every thrust rocked my body forward, my tits swinging, my hands fisted in the carpet. Barry knelt beside us, stroking his cock, watching his friend take me, listening to me scream like never before.

"That's it," Barry said. "Take it all."

Marcus's hips slammed into me. "You feel so fucking good; your pussy is so tight."

"Don't come inside me yet," I begged, even as my own time was close. “Not yet, I need us to cum at the same time."

I was close, the pressure building, and I came screaming his name, my pussy milking his cock in waves. Marcus moaned and drove deep one final time, and I felt it. Hot, spurting, filling me, it just wouldn’t stop.

He collapsed against my back. Barry grabbed my hips, pulled me off Marcus, and pressed me down onto my back. His cock slid into me so easily, coated with his friend's cum, and I cried out at the slick, filthy sensation.

"Fill me again," I begged. "Please, Barry, fill me." 

He fucked me fast and frantic; this wasn’t making love, this was fucking hard, and when he came, I swear he had never cum so much.

We collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs and sweat. My brain was all over the place.

"Who won the football?” I murmured into the carpet, "but I know that's the best game I’ve ever watched."

Barry laughed.

"Rematch?" Marcus asked.

I looked at my husband. He looked at me.

"Shall we take this upstairs?"

The words came out of me before I'd even fully formed the thought. Barry looked down at me, his eyebrows raised. Marcus had propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes still dark with the aftermath of what we'd just done.

"The jacuzzi?" I asked, my voice steadier now. "We have that big tub in the bathroom. Seems a shame to waste it."

Marcus smiled. "I could use a soak."

Barry’s eyes looked at me with a passion I’d never seen before.

"Sounds good, Lisa."

We peeled ourselves off the floor. My legs were shaky, wobbling as I stood. Marcus's hand held me steady. His palm was warm and soft, his touch familiar in a way it shouldn't have been after one fuck.

The bathroom was steamy within minutes. I adjusted the jets in the jacuzzi, watching the water churn and foam. Barry was already lowering himself in, his lean body disappearing beneath the bubbles. Marcus followed, and then there was a space between them. For me.

I slid in between them, letting the hot water work on my aching muscles. The jets pulsed against my thighs and my lower back, and I sighed, letting my head fall back against the tub's edge.

I still can’t believe this was happening; this was not the plan, but it was so much better than the actual plan.

The excitement was already building again. A low, insistent pulse that the hot water only encouraged.

I moved closer to Marcus instead of Barry, and I saw his eyes flick down, watching me submerge beside him. The bubbles swirled around my shoulders and tits, bouncing in the water.

Barry was just watching us, arms spread along the tub's edge. 

I let my hand drift underwater. Marcus's thigh was solid. I teased his leg, feeling his muscle tense, then relax, then harden under my touch.

"Marcus," I said, “I don't think I can go back to normal after this."

His hand found mine under the water, guiding it higher. He was already semi-hard, and I wrapped my fingers around him, feeling him thicken in my grip.

“This cock is amazing," I whisper.

I looked at Barry. He was watching us with an expression of lust; yes, he was hungry for me.

"You'll keep sharing me?" I asked him. "You liked watching?"

Barry's answer was immediate. "I loved watching, and we can do whatever you want to do."

The relief flooded through me. My grip tightened on Marcus, and he let out a low groan that the water couldn't quite muffle. I turned to him fully, pressing closer, my tits grazing his chest through the bubbles.

"Then fuck me again," I breathed. "Right now. I need you; let him watch you fuck me again with that beautiful cock."

Marcus's hands found my waist. He lifted me easily, positioning me above him. The water sloshed around us, and I rose up, one hand bracing against the tub's lip.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded. He guided me down, and the head of his cock caught at my entrance. I whimpered, just the head, and already my body was remembering the stretch.

"Take it slow," I whispered. "Let me feel every inch."

He did. I sank down onto him, inch by inch, the water parting around us. My breathing struggled to keep up. The fullness was amazing, that perfect feel of being stretched open. When I was finally seated, his balls pressed against my ass, I could feel him pulsing inside me.

"OMG," I moaned. "You feel even better in this position."

I pulled Marcus’s face level to mine, our lips met, and we kissed, passion taking over us as we fucked.

Barry shifted around the tub. He was stroking himself beneath the bubbles, slow and deliberate, watching my face.

"Ride him," he said. "Let me see your face when you come on his cock."

I stood up and rotated my hips, feeling an emptiness, turning my back to Marcus's chest, facing Barry. Reverse cowgirl, my favorite position. The change in angle made me gasp when I pushed my pussy onto his cock, his cock pressing against a different wall inside me, deeper, somehow more intense.

"Is that good?" Marcus's voice was amused from behind me.

"You don’t realize how good, so fucking good." I rocked on him, finding a rhythm. The water splashed around us with each movement. "God, you're so big. I don't think I'll ever get enough of this."

"Barry," Marcus grunted, his hands settling on my hips. "You hear that? Your wife loves my cock."

"I know; I’m not sure she will ever let you leave," Barry said, and there was no jealousy in his voice. Only heat. "I can see it. She's close; she’s going to come."

I was close. So close. The double sensation, Marcus's thickness inside me, and Barry's gaze on my face, watching him stroke his own cock, pushed me higher. My thighs trembled. My hips moved faster, bouncing on his length, chasing that edge.

"Fuck, I'm there," I gasped. "I'm coming all over your massive cock, Marcus."

The orgasm hit me like a wave, but not the gentle kind. This was different, the kind you only see in porn videos. My mouth fell open, but no sound came out. I looked to Barry's face, and I watched him watch me.

Behind me, Marcus groaned, his hands tightened on my hips. I felt him swell inside me, then erupt, hot and thick, flooding my pussy with his cum for a second time tonight.

"Mmm," I moaned, still riding the aftershocks. "So much cum inside me."

We stayed like that for what felt like forever, Marcus softening inside me, my body sitting on his lap. Then I pulled off, rising, watching his cum mix with the bathwater and disappear.

"C'mon," I said, my voice still husky. "Let's get dry."

We climbed out, water sliding down our bodies. Barry grabbed a towel, but he didn't give it to me. He wrapped it around my shoulders and began to pat me dry, slow and gentle. When he finished with my arms, Marcus grabbed another towel and started to help dry my wet body.

Two sets of hands, two towels, two pairs of eyes looking over my body. They dried my shoulders and my back. Marcus knelt and ran a towel up my thighs while Barry worked the other one over my breasts. I was surrounded, in a way that made my heart ache; I felt closer to Barry than ever, and Marcus was a new sensation.

By the time they finished, my skin was tingling, and I was wet again.

"How is that possible?" I murmured, shaking my head. "I just came twice."

"Three's a charm," Barry said, and there was a challenge in his voice that I couldn't resist again; I need to work on my competitive nature.

We moved to the bedroom. The sheets were cool against my skin as I lay back. Barry kissed down my stomach and my hips until his face was between my legs.

His tongue found my clit, and I gasped. But it wasn't just his tongue; what could he taste? The thought of him tasting the salt of Marcus's cum, still inside me, mixed with the taste of my own release. Barry lapped at me greedily, humming against my flesh, and I arched into his mouth.

"God, Barry, yes, are you enjoying that taste?” I moan.

He ate me with a hunger I hadn't seen in years. Like he was tasting something new and exciting. Which, I suppose, he was; he had only ever tasted his own cum in my pussy; this was tasting another man on his wife's pussy, and he was devouring it.

His cock strained against my thigh, and I could feel his familiar cock.

"Come on," I whispered. "I need you inside me."

He pulled back, and I saw his face was flushed. My own taste, mingled with Marcus's, was on his lips. I pulled him up, and he settled between my legs.

"Slow," I breathed. "I want to kiss you. I want you to fuck me slowly and kiss me the entire time; I need to taste us on your lips."

His eyes widened for a beat. Then he nodded, and he pushed into me.

The feeling was different after Marcus's size. A familiar stretch, my legs wrapped around his waist, and I pulled him down, trying to recapture that feeling of fullness, his mouth meeting with mine.

The kiss was slow. Our tongues tangled lazily while his hips moved in a matching rhythm. And it was good, connected, close.

But I couldn’t help thinking, it's not the same. It's not him. It's not that glorious stretch.

I kissed Barry deeper, trying to silence the thought. But it was there. Marcus's cock. Marcus's size. The way he'd stretched me open completed me in a way Barry never had or could.

"Faster," I begged, though I didn't know if it was for Barry or for my own need. "Please, Barry."

He picked up the pace. His mouth found mine again, a messy and urgent, familiar rhythm, and I felt myself slipping closer, not quite able to reach the peak.

I need it. I need him; I need Marcus. 

Barry kissed me harder, and something in his intensity pushed me over. I came with a cry, my legs clenching around him. He went with me, groaning against my lips, pumping his come into me again. 

We lay there afterward, together. Barry's breath was heavy against my neck. Marcus was sitting in the chair by the window, watching, stroking his massive cock lazily.

"God, that was so good, so fucking good," I said. 

"His cock," I blurted out; the words spilled out before I could stop them. "I can't stop thinking about his cock, Barry. I don't know if I can ever go back to not having it in my life, but I don’t want to lose you."

Barry went still. I watched his face cycle through a million emotions: arousal, hurt, and conflict. His cock, still inside me, began to harden again.

"You will never lose me, and you can have Marcus and any other cock you want, as long as we do it together," he breathed.

I pulled him closer, kissing him hard.

I pulled away and held his face. “I love you so much, Barry."

“I love you too, my gorgeous wife."