9 comments/ 67983 views/ 27 favorites Across The Hall By: ALoverOfGirls This is my first erotic story, so constructive criticism is appreciated! Just leave a comment if you see anything that I should work on! ***** Nadia Varesh, newly fired McDonalds employee, entered her apartment at 11:00 pm with a sigh. Things had gone drastically downhill for the Pakistani immigrant in the last few weeks. First, her grades had started to slip as a student of Cultural Studies at NYU, then her credit card bills had caught up with her. Nadia had taken three jobs in retail and fast food since, but found that she wasn't cut out for that kind of work- she had just been fired for dropping an entire basket of French fries on the kitchen floor. Nadia removed her shoes and poured herself a glass of wine before sinking down on her sofa. She found herself missing her last boyfriend, who she knew would have been there to comfort her. Nadia was bisexual, but had always had a preference for boys. And they had a preference for her, too: At 23, Nadia had been called a bombshell- long, silky black hair, tanned and unblemished skin, and full lips (dick-sucking lips, an ex had once called them) that many women would have killed for. Her body, too, was an object of envy. Her breasts were of average size, c-cups, but perky and full, with dark, fat nipples. Her posterior was almost perfectly rounded, and well-toned, like the rest of her form, by cardio and yoga. But all of this she often hid under sweatpants and oversized tee-shirts. Nadia had always been shyer and bookish, her intelligence carrying her out of Pakistan and into New York City, where she gathered a handful of friends around her and became reclusive, usually only going outside for her job and trips to the nearest bookstore. Nadia set down her wineglass, the thoughts of her ex causing a stirring between her legs. Slowly, she eased manicured fingers into her jeans and under her panties, stroking a growing wetness that had gathered there. Nadia moaned quietly as she pumped first one, then two, then three fingers inside herself, her hand rubbing over her erect clit every time she thrusted. As she pleasured herself, she found a familiar thought entered her mind, a fantasy of the woman in the apartment next door. The object of Nadia's fantasy was Billie Andrews, a 21-year old college graduate and a perfect example of the privilege that Nadia, raised in a filthy ghetto apartment, abhorred. Billie had cruised through life with the help of her rich daddy and her American-ideal looks. Fair skin, flowing blonde hair, d-cup tits that guys fainted over, Billie had it all, and the bitch acted like nobody could have deserved it more. She had always looked down on Nadia, but whether it was due to prejudice or the simple fact that Nadia did not behave in the same loud promiscuous fashion as her was anyone's guess. The fantasy itself would have shocked anyone who had seen it play out in the shy, introverted woman's head. In it, Nadia finally showed the blonde bimbo exactly who was the better of the two of them. Nadia was a powerful mistress in leather and high heels, and Billie was her slave, bound and gagged. The things Nadia did to her in this dream were unspeakable. She fucked Billie with a strap-on dildo and then made the bitch suck it dry, she slid a massive butt plug up Billie's rear, she sat on the bimbo's face and rubbed her slit all over it until she came hard on the blonde's haughty features. Nadia was pulled back into reality by an earth-shaking orgasm, as she screamed so loud that her neighbors might have heard her. She looked down and noticed that her jeans were soaked, a spreading wet spot across the front. Stripping out of her clothes, Nadia made her way to her bedroom, sliding into bed with a deep sigh. She was just getting comfortable when the phone rang. "Hello?" Nadia said, rather groggily. "Hey neighbor! It's me, Billie, from across the hall?" said a voice that was simultaneously bubbly and superior. Nadia's breath caught in her throat. She and Billie didn't talk much, but it was no secret that the two hated each other. "Yes?" she asked curtly. "Sooo, I'm going to have a party tomorrow with some friends from back home, and my place is a wreck! But unfortunately, the Mexican lady who cleans has come down with a case of mono, and I need someone to tidy up the place!" "And?" Nadia could already guess what Billie wanted. "I thought you could do it! It's just for tomorrow morning, and I'll totally pay you!" "Forget it. I'm not interested." "Are you sure? I'll pay you two grand for the morning." Billie added, a note of victory in her voice. She knew that Nadia had fallen on hard times and needed rent money. "Oh. Fine then. I'll come over at 9:00." Nadia grumbled, taking the deal without even thinking. She needed the cash, badly. "Thanks so much! I'll have your uniform ready!" Billie crowed, hanging up the phone. Uniform? Nadia hadn't a clue what the white bitch was talking about, but she was exhausted now and couldn't care less about that strange addition. She drifted to sleep in seconds. *** At nine o'clock the next morning, Nadia crossed the hall to Billie's apartment. It was more spacious than hers and as decadent as she expected, outfitted in modern style with pastel colors and rounded furniture. As to be expected, the place was covered in discarded magazines and textbooks, takeout boxes and dirty dishes. Billie came out from the bedroom, dressed it an outfit that would have made Nadia drool internally, if her hate weren't so strong. Billie wore a short black skirt that only went halfway down her thigh, a pair of leather knee-high boots, and a white blouse that seemed to be a size too small, probably by design. "Great! Your uniform's just in the bedroom!" Nadia followed Billie into the bedroom, and saw a costume-shop maid outfit on the bed, the sort that desperate girls wear to Halloween parties. "Are you kidding?" asked Nadia. "Never! Remember, it's two thousand dollars, I want my money's worth!" Billie giggled. "I can help you into it, if you need!" "Fine. Whatever, I'll put it on. But I want that cash in my pocket by noon." Nadia stripped down to her underwear, not noticing that Billie was stealthily ogling her as she did. After she was in her skivvies, she found that the uniform was as bad as she feared. The lacy blouse was tight, creating way more cleavage than she was used too, the skirt was negligible, and the stockings were downright whorish. The headband with the bow marked a final insult to the bookish student. Billie admired her creation with pride. The white stockings looked ravishing beside Nadia's light brown skin. "This is humiliating, Billie." growled Nadia. "I think you look great! Billie leaned in close enough for Nadia to smell her perfume and lightly touched the Pakistani girl's cheek. "Great! I'm going out for a bit, I'll be back to pay you at noon!" Billie gave Nadia's bottom an unexpected slap and hurried out of the apartment, leaving Nadia to look indignant and begin cleaning the mess of an apartment. After about two and a half hours of dusting and sorting, Nadia stumbled across a closet of her wildest dreams. Billie's collection of sex toys was breathtaking. Vibrators, dildos, and plugs of all sizes and sorts adorned the bedroom closet. Nadia noticed a set of leather floggers and ball gags, too, as well as other bondage equipment. She wondered if this meant that her fantasy with Billie wasn't so impossible after all. Having cleaned most of the apartment, Nadia thought she had some time. Thoughts of Billie subjugated, tamed, and at her mercy danced in her head as she slid her panties off, selected a modest dildo, and slipped it beneath her maid's skirt and into her damp vagina. *** The remaining half hour before Billie got back passed in a blink. Nadia was kneeling in the closet still, pumping a dildo in and out of her insatiable gash, when the door slammed. Nadia quickly replaced the dildo and dashed out of the closet and into the living room. Billie was surveying the apartment. Nadia had not completely finished. The coffee table was still unsorted and covered in books and magazines. Billie looked pissed. "Really, Nadia?" She asked, the entitled daddy's girl shining through. "I'm sorry! I was... I was working, I just must have missed it?" Billie surveyed Nadia's flushed face and guessed in seconds what had happened. "I understand. Just let me check out the bedroom, ok?" "Sure! I'll just tidy up the table!" Billie walked into the bedroom and Nadia hurriedly cleaned the table. She was almost done when she heard Billie say "Nadia!" from the next room. Nadia rushed into the bedroom to find that she had left the closet door open. The dildo she had used had been clearly put back incorrectly, and was still gleaming with juices. Worst of all, her discarded panties sat on the floor like a monument to her guilt. "What the fuck is this, Nadia?" asked Billie. There was no point denying it, not even to this bitch. "I'm sorry, I got distracted. I'll clean everything up!" Nadia hurried toward the closet. "Don't you fucking move!" yelled Billie. Nadia instinctively froze. Billie looked over the scene. This poor Paki bitch, who always acted so superior and important, had clearly just been fucking herself in Billie's apartment, with Billie's dildo. She could even see a trail of wetness coming down the bitch's thighs. Billie strode over to Nadia, every step making the Pakistani girl shake. "Seriously, I'm sorry, I'll-" Nadia hadn't gotten the words out of her mouth when Billie reached her. One of the blonde's hands pinned her neck to the wall, but the other one shot down to Nadia's wet slit, checking it for arousal. Nadia was thoroughly shocked. She tried to push Billie off her, but couldn't. "What is this shit? I go out shopping and expect that my maid will clean my place, but instead, when I come back, I find out that she's been stealing my dildos and fucking herself in my closet?" "No Billie, that's-" Nadia was cut short when Billie's probing fingers found her still-gaping hole. "That's what? That's exactly what happened, you little slut! You masturbated with my toy, and I bet you were going to steal it, too! You hypocritical little cunt, I bet you were thinking about me, weren't you?" asked Billie, rubbing Nadia's clit with her thumb. "Slut", she had called Nadia. Nadis had heard insults before, but never anything like that. She was the opposite of slutty. Wasn't she? "I... I..." Nadia couldn't muster the strength to lie. "You what, bitch? Answer me!" "Yes. I was." "I fucking thought so." crowed Billie, thrusting a finger into Nadia. The older girl moaned. Billie grabbed Nadia by the hair and shoved her onto the bed. As Nadia started to push herself back up, Billie snatched the soiled dildo out of the closet and dashed back to pin the Pakistani to the bed. Forced against the sheets by the white girl's forearm, thoughts raced through Nadia's head. Was this her fantasy come true? Billie had touched her, probed her, made bolts of pleasure race through her. But in her dreams, she was the one in charge, and here it was clearly Billie. Billie, not Nadia, was the one wielding the dildo, and disturbingly, Nadia's body didn't want to fight back. Nadia was torn out of her thoughts when the dildo penetrated her lower lips. She let out a shocked gasp as it filled her up and Billie grabbed her roughly by the hair. "Is this what you want, bitch? You want to be fucked?" Before Nadia could answer, Billie was pumping the plastic cock in and out of her victim's pussy, sending Nadia's mind into throes of pleasure. Nadia let out a yelp as Billie reamed her, in and out, in and out. "Is it? Answer me!" Billie slapped Nadia on the ass, hard. The slap was unexpected, and had Nadia's mind not been busy, she probably would have yelled indignantly. "I... I..." Nadia couldn't find an answer. Was the blonde girl right? Was this what she wanted? She had always thought of herself as dominant, but being pinned down and violated made her feel... surprisingly good. Billie let go of the dildo, leaving Nadia's slippery hole to desperately grasp at it as it slid out onto the bed. Suddenly empty, Nadia felt some clarity return to her mind, just in time for Billie to roughly wrench her head around by the hair. "Is it?" She growled. Nadia had made up her mind. She didn't want this. It should be her, on top, domming this girl she had dreamed about. "N...no." she managed, before Billie spat in her face and shoved her back down. "I don't believe you, whore." Billie hissed, giving Nadia's rear another hard smack. "Your mouth says one thing, but your cunt says another." Billie slipped a finger into Nadia and brought it around for the Pakistani to see. True to her word, it was dripping. Nadia's mouth dropped open, shocked that she was getting off on this, and Billie took the opportunity to jam the finger in. Before Nadia could recoil, she was tasting her own juices. It was tangy and sweet, bringing back memories of high-school encounters with her best friend Anna. Suddenly realizing that she was sucking on Billie's finger, Nadia recoiled, jerking her head away. In retaliation, she felt Billie's foot press into her head, pinning it to the sheets. "That was a bad move, whore. Never reject something I give you!" Billie pulled Nadia's butt cheeks apart for better access to her vagina, and then slipped three fingers into it. Nadia moaned despite herself as Billie finger-fucked her. "I can see that this is what you crave. Girls like you, who hide their bodies under pajamas and read all day, all you want is to be fucked. You act all high and mighty, but inside you make the perfect sluts. The perfect submissives." At the word "sluts", Nadia moaned and trembled, an orgasm making its way through her. Billie grinned So, the bitch was submissive after all. She would make a great slave. As Billie screwed the Pakistani girl, she found herself admiring the pussy she was violating. Ripe and juicy, just as she'd thought, and such a pretty shade of pink inside. Even the carpet of black curls around it was pretty. Billie was looking forward to what came next. Billie suddenly got off of Nadia, laying down on the bed a few feet away. She spread her legs to reveal that she wasn't wearing any underwear. As Nadia lay recovering, she couldn't help but stare as the beautiful pink vagina. Completely bald, the lips swollen and slightly open, it was a sight that sparked another tingle between Nadia's legs. "Crawl to me, slut. You know you want it." Nadia didn't move. "I gave you an order. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts now that I've let you cum." Billie sighed, using a hand to spread her pussy wider. Nadia's thoughts raced. Her body wanted this, so badly. Billie's slit looked so beautifully appetizing, and deep down, she knew she wanted to taste it. But was this a path she wanted to go down? Billie had called her a slut, a submissive, and that wasn't what Nadia was. She wanted to be a mistress, to give commands instead of take them. "Come here, slut. Now." Billie's authoritarian voice reached a deep part of Nadia's brain, and she found herself crawling to that pink slit. Billie gently placed a hand on her head and brought Nadia's lips to her nethers. This was going to be fun for the white girl. Nadia's tongue darted out, tasting Billie from hole to clit. It was as tangy and sweet as her own taste, and even more addictive. Nadia lapped up Billie's juices, devouring the sweet nectar. Billie moaned in satisfaction. Damn, this bitch could eat cunt. Nadia hadn't licked anyone out since high school, when she had shared moments in the locker rooms with Anna. But now, her face buried in this rich girl's pussy, instinct took over and she ate as if she was born to do it. She teased and nibbled at Billie's clit, she ran her tongue through the folds of her labia, she used her tongue as a tiny cock, and penetrated her new lover's hole. Billie's first orgasm washed over her in minutes, and she covered Nadia's face in hot cum, rubbing her new pussy-licker's nose all around her cunt. For hours it seemed, Nadia ate Billie, savoring the taste, the smell, the beauty of it. Billie reveled in the girl's submission. For a year, she had lusted after the Pakistani girl, knowing the slut she really was, but not until now had she acted on it. And as Nadia submissively sucked and licked her cunt, Billie knew she had found a slut that she would enjoy for a very long time. There was just something that had to be done first. Billie abruptly shoved Nadia away, and the dark-skinned girl sprawled on the bed, exhausted, with her mascara running down her cheeks and her face slick with juices. "Good job, slut. You earned your orgasm." Billie walked to the closet and selected a fat dildo, tossing it to Nadia. "Play with that, I'll be back." With that, she strode into the bathroom. Nadia wasted no time in ramming the wide dildo into her hungry hole. It was as large as Mark, her last lover, had been, filling her up completely. It never occurred to Nadia how low she had fallen in the last few hours, from a bookish NYU student to a wanton slut, fucking herself on command. Her submissive side had been awakened by Billie in its entirety. Nadia was nearing orgasm when Billie returned with shaving cream, a razor, and a towel. "Lay on your back." she ordered, and Nadia complied. "What are you-" Nadia began to ask, but Billie held up her hand for silence. "I don't want you talking right now, slut. In fact-" she said, grabbing a ball gag from the closet. "I don't want you talking at all." Nadia started to protest but Billie forced her mouth open and shoved the ball inside, tightening it behind her head. Nadia's jaw was forced wide by the rubber, and she felt a reservoir of drool building. "If you take that off, there'll be consequences. I'll make your tight little ass pay the price." Nadia thought of her virginal backside and didn't touch the gag. Billie spread the shaving cream across Nadia's hairy crotch. Nadia looked on in fear as the razor danced, shaving her pussy bald and running dangerously close to her sensitive clit. "You understand" said Billie "that true sluts can't have hair down here. It gets in the way, and a good slut is to always be shaved. I want you shaved at all times, understood?" Nadia found herself nodding, surprising Billie as much as herself. Billie flipped her over and lathered the cream in her asscrack, again ridding the region of hair. "Good girl." The embarrassment of being shaved filled Nadia's mind. She stared down at her bare slit, bald for the first time in her life. What was wrong with her? Why had she let this girl humiliate her like that? After cleaning her new slut with a towel, Billie left the room, returning with two glasses of wine. One she handed to Nadia, removing the gag. "Billie, I-" She began, but Billie cut her off with a deep, long kiss. Their tongues danced, and Billie savored the pussy flavor still on Nadia's lips. "Hush. You're mine now, Nadia. My little girl. But I'll take good care of you." Nadia had a hundred protests, a hundred complaints, a hundred insults, but all she did was weakly stutter "I... thank you." She drained half the wineglass in one gulp. Billie smiled. "Good girl. I'm having some friends over in an hour. You'll stay and meet them, right?" Nadia's eyes widened. She couldn't be seen with Billie! That one realization seemed to tear down the whole charade. What was she doing, submitting to this rich bitch? "No, I'm leaving." She said, firmly, before she had a chance to change her mind. Nadia stood up and began to put her clothes back on. Billie looked annoyed. "You can't leave! I already told them there would be entertainment, and they'll love you!" Across The Hall Entertainment? What was that supposed to mean? Nadia started to pull her pants on when she felt lightheaded. Had Billie drugged her wine? Nadia didn't have time to ask what "entertainment" meant before she collapsed on the floor. Across the Hall... Several years ago, my wife and I flew cross-country to a high school friend's wedding. This was to be his second marriage. We originally planned on finding a nice motel in town, but received an invitation from Pete, the best man (one of my best friends in high school), to stay at his place, a 3-bedroom house with a pool in the back yard. He was recently divorced a year prior and would welcome the company, and we were still early in our careers, had a young family, and were always looking for ways to economize. We accepted the offer. We were greeted by Pete at the airport with big hugs. Even my wife Carly, who had never met Pete before, got a very big hug. Carly, whom I've discussed in another story ("Our First Time"), was a pretty woman. At 5'4" and 110 pounds, she still had a nice figure after 10 years of marriage and 2 children. Her breasts were natural and just right for her shape and height, being firm in spite of having had kids, and on the smaller size. She has short, brown hair, and killer green, 'fuck me' bedroom eyes. Luckily for me, she also had a sexual appetite that went along with those eyes. She couldn't ever seem to get enough sex with me. We got our luggage, and had a very short drive to Pete's house since he lived close to the airport. One thing about Carly is that she always seemed to have the ability to hit it off with friendly strangers, almost making them feel as if they'd known her for a long time. The rapport between Pete and Carly was no different. They hit it off right away, chatting up a storm during our short ride. Once we got to Pete's house, he showed us around, and then to our room where we took a few minutes to get settled in. Our room would be right across the hall from his bedroom. Once we emerged and found our way into the kitchen/dining room, we met back up with Pete who was sitting at the bar, pouring us all some wine to help take the edge off our trip. In no time at all, Carly picked up where she left off on the ride home, engaging Pete in banter, asking him untold questions about his life. Pete welcomed the interrogation and seemed to enjoy talking about himself, even answering the few questions she asked about his divorce. She found out that Pete's wife had left him for another man, and, to our surprise, that Pete had not had another woman in his life since then. Understandably, he still needed time for wounds to heal and to get reacquainted with himself. Carly doesn't drink often or much, so it doesn't take much to get her feeling tipsy. When she gets tipsy, she loosens up quite a bit, and her persona takes on a slightly different nature. After a couple of glasses of wine (a couple of rather full glasses), her persona began to change as if on cue. Her 'personal space' disappeared, and she began occasionally and lightly touching Pete during conversation as if his space disappeared, too. She became even more talkative and much friendlier to the point where you would have thought that Pete and Carly had been old friends from high school. I had to leave the room a couple of times, coming back to find them engrossed in their conversation, and staring intently at each other while talking. I thought to myself, "Uh oh. Pete's getting the full force of those killer 'bedroom' eyes." Our conversation remained, for the most part, rather innocuous. But Carly did boldly manage to ask a couple of penetrating questions, such as, "When you say you haven't been with a woman this past year, do you mean romantically or physically?" or, "How difficult is it to have been married with regular female companionship, then suddenly go cold turkey?" Pete didn't bat an eye. He answered the former, "Both," and the latter, "Quite difficult at first, but it's getting better." Our conversation didn't seem to go much longer after his answers because we had a dinner/dance party in honor of the bride and groom to go to with more of my school friends and others, and we had to get ready. Having stayed up later than Carly the night before, finishing up packing, and getting up extra early in the morning before Carly to get everything into the car, I was quite fatigued. I opted to take a short nap before I went to dinner, otherwise I knew that I would struggle to make it through the night. Carly didn't feel the need for a nap, and chose to begin getting ready. When it was time to go, I was still quite tired. Pete suggested that I sleep for another hour. Carly looked concerned about us being late. Pete quickly said it would be okay because they weren't going to eat right away, and suggested that perhaps she could ride along with him and explain to the others at dinner that I'd be along a little later in his other car. Carly mildly objected at first, but gave in when Pete said it would be a good opportunity to ask him any questions about me as a teenager. Carly (or the wine) giggled a little at that, and said, "That's a great idea." Carly dressed to the nines, wanting to make a grand first impression on my friends. She wore a sleeveless/backless, red, one-piece, belted dress with a slightly-plunging neck line, red satin high heels, and pearls that hung down slightly past where her modest, but noticeable cleavage began, almost as if the pearls drew your attention to that spot. Being backless, it was obvious that she was braless. With her breasts being the perfect size, she usually didn't have much to worry about. If she had to lean forward slightly, you could maybe get a glimpse of a little more breast, but not enough to see any of her nipples, which were dark and about the size of a half-dollar. She was a little concerned, but I reassured her that she was fine. So off they went to the dinner, while I shut my eyes for a little more sleep. I awoke later than I had planned, dressed quickly and headed for the restaurant where I found Carly and Pete enjoying themselves at the bar with another couple. I approached them and offered my apologies for my lateness. Carly reached for my hand, flashed me a smile and told me not to worry about it, that Pete had introduced her to several of the people, and that they were just passing the time away in conversation at the bar. It turned out that the couple was Pete's younger sister Rachel, whom I also knew from high school, and her husband, just in from out of town. They had come straight from the airport to the restaurant, but they were heading back to Pete's place afterwards to stay with him in his third bedroom. I was just a little uneasy because Rachel and I had gone together for a little while in high school and had sex quite a few times during that brief romance. Carly knew nothing about this, nor did I want her to know. After a quick drink, it was time to be seated for dinner. Dinner came and went quickly, followed by a few speeches, a few more drinks, and then dancing. I noticed that Carly's demeanor had not changed one bit since drinking the earlier glasses of wine at Pete's. In fact, she seemed to be a tad bit more outgoing than before. I asked her how it was going. "Oh, fantastic!" she replied, "You have nice friends, and Pete had a load of information about you! I also have had more to drink and am feeling just fine!" Now I was really worried. Just what did Pete tell her?! "Uh, how much did you have to drink?" I asked. She told me that she had three more glasses of wine. Good lord, she never drinks that much!! I danced with Carly throughout most of the evening, with Pete asking permission to dance with her a few times. Of course it was fine with me. With Carly being 'wine-friendly', it was certainly alright with her. When Carly and I danced, she held me very, very close during the slow songs, and we nuzzled and kissed a few times. When Carly drinks, she also gets very amorous with me. When she and Pete danced, while they weren't as close as she and I were, they were still somewhat on the close side, much closer than new-found friends would normally be. It must have been the wine. I also couldn't help but notice during the last dance what appeared to be Pete looking down a number of times. I thought to myself, "I'll be damned. He's trying to look down her dress!" A mixture of emotions hit me all at once. I was just a little bit jealous. This, after all, was my wife! But that thought was quickly met with the remembrances of when I shared her in a ménage-a-trois with my friend Paul in the Marines ten years earlier, and only shortly after we got married. That thought brought out feelings of dry-mouthed lust, where your mind begins to race and your heart begins to beat wildly. I could actually feel my cock begin to stir, and shifted in my seat to hide my growing bulge. Damn! I couldn't believe it. I was getting that same sexual arousal as with the Paul experience. The evening came to an end, and Carly and I drove together back to Pete's house. I chuckled and commented on how openly friendly she was tonight. Her face turned red, and she replied, "Oh, you have no idea!" I asked what she meant by that. She told me that, while on the drive to the restaurant, she and Pete had a very engaging conversation about me. She was learning things that she never knew, going on and on, asking more questions. Throughout that drive, Carly said, Pete kept looking over at her, sometimes for long moments, and she began to become concerned about their safety. As they were getting close to the night club, she realized that one of the two buttons at the top of the front of her dress had come undone. What was supposed to be a slightly modest view of cleavage was now a full-blown view of her entire breast, nipple and all. That's what he was staring at. She refastened the button without saying anything, acting as if nothing happened. Then she noticed that he was sporting a large hard-on in his pants. This caught her off guard, but she quickly surmised that it was because he was turned on at the sight of her tit. After a while, she mustered the courage to ask him how long her dress button had been undone. He replied, "From the beginning. It must have come undone when you got in." "Why didn't you say something?" she asked. "Are you kidding? And ruin the great view?!" was his response. "Besides, remember that it's been a while since I've seen one," he said. "Obviously!" she replied back, nodding at the erection in his trousers. They both had a good chuckle. Then Pete apologized. Carly told him not to worry, and that she felt very flattered that someone would still want to look. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about there," Pete said. Carly said she could feel herself blushing. And for the rest of the ride, all she could do was furtively glance at his unflagging hard-on, getting aroused by the moment. As I was listening, I became aware of that same dry-mouthed lust that I experienced in the restaurant. I was actually turned on at the thought of another man seeing my wife's naked breast, and perhaps even as much so at the thought of her being fixated with his hard-on. I had to press the issue. "How hard and how big was it?" I asked. "I don't know," she said, "It wasn't out. It was just sticking up under his pants. But it looked like it was a big one, a thick one. And it HAD to be very hard to make that kind of tent!" I became hard in no time, too. She saw my rising cock and came to the immediate realization of what effect this conversation was having on me. She began to chide me a little, kidding me about what it was that was making me hard. She wanted to hear me say something that was difficult for me to say...that it turned me on to think of her with another man. She changed the subject by asking me why I hadn't told her about me and Rachel. I asked her, "What about me and Rachel?" "Don't play games with me, Mr. Hard Dick. I know all about it!" "Pete tell you?" I asked. "Well, kind of," she said, "He inadvertently blurted out that she was coming to stay with us, too, and hoped that I didn't feel too uncomfortable with the idea. I asked if there was a reason for me to. He apologized and offered that perhaps he said something that he shouldn't have. But I got the picture. So, did you two fuck a lot?" She never uses the word 'fuck' unless she's horny. And between the wine, the conversation, and her ride over with Pete, there was no doubt in my mind that she was horny. "Yes, we did what teenagers do when they're young, virile, and new to sex. We fucked every chance we got," I replied, "Our hormones were raging!" "Kind of like mine are doing right now!" she said. I reached over, worked up the hem of her dress, and worked my hand up to her panties. She slightly raised her hips out of the seat and pulled her dress higher so that I could get better access. My fingers found the edge of her panties and worked their way inside to her pussy lips which were, by this time, juice-soaked. Although I couldn't get my fingers in very far because I was driving, I was able to work her juice all over her pussy, and to caress her love bud. She began to moan and writhe a little in her seat, humping her hips on my hand. As I fingered her, I asked her if she thought Pete was a good dancer. "Mmmm hmmm," was all she could say. I asked her if she knew that he was trying to look down her dress, trying to get another glance at her breasts. Again, "Mmmm hmmm. I knew that he could see them then, because he was looking down from above. I tried to get as close as I could without raising eyebrows so that he could get a better look." I asked, "Do you think it was turning him on like in the car?" She replied, "I know it did. Even though he hid it well in his pants, every now and then I could feel his hard dick against my hips." "What did you think of that? How did it make you feel?" I pressed. "It was erotic. Turned me on," she said. "Well, you know now that it kind of turned me on, too," I countered. "No kidding!" she blurted. We came to Pete's driveway all too quickly. As we pulled in, Pete was getting out of his car, having arrived only moments earlier. He glanced over toward our car to find us hurriedly recomposing ourselves, flashed a little grin, shook his head, then looked beyond us toward an approaching car. His sister and brother pulled up behind us. While Pete got them settled in to their room, Carly and I stayed at the bar in his dining room. Carly poured herself a half-glass of wine. Rachel and her husband came out briefly, but offered their apologies, needing to get to bed after a long day. Pete had poured himself a glass of wine in the meantime. I looked at Carly and said, "I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I'm with them. I just don't know how much longer I can stay awake." Carly said for me to go on ahead, that she just poured a glass of wine, and that she'll keep Pete company while he finishes the glass that he just poured, too. I gave her a kiss and said, "See you in a few, then." My head hit the pillow, and I was out. I awoke to subdued voices from down the hall in the dining room. I looked at the clock and realized that I had been asleep for almost two hours. It was now 1 a.m. I slightly opened the door to get a better sense of what was going on. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it was clear that they were engaged in deep conversation. I just went back to bed, hoping she'd be along soon. I couldn't get back to sleep, though. My mind was racing, wondering what they were talking about. I lay there for another half hour when the conversation stopped. A few minutes later, the door to our room softly opened, and Carly came over to my side of the bed. She whispered, "Are you awake?" I whispered back to her in the affirmative. She apologized for staying so long. I told her it was okay. Then she tried to say something, but clearly had difficulty getting the words out. I asked her what was on her mind. She asked, "Do you remember our threesome with Paul?" "How can I forget? I get a raging hard-on every time I think of it," I said. "Why is that?" she asked. I responded with, "Well, I'm not sure it's something that a woman would fully understand. Kind of a guy thing. I'm not even sure that guys fully understand it. There's just something about knowing that others find your wife sexually desirable and want to fuck her. It's even more erotic when they do and you get to be there to experience it, to watch her being satisfied as a woman." "Well," she went on, "What if another man wants to fuck me now? How would you feel about that?" I told her, "If it's an erotically-satisfying experience for you, then I would feel the same way. It would give me nut!" "Someone wants to fuck me!" she said. "Pete?" I asked. She said, "Yes. And I think I'd like to do it. That is, if you're okay with it. We've been talking all night long, and he's been dropping sexual hints. Then he told me that he does find me very attractive, and could easily fantasize fucking me, but wouldn't act on it out of respect for you. I hope you don't mind that I shared with him how we had a threesome...so that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable or feel any need to apologize for his comments. His attention to me all night long has me in such an aroused state that I just want to do something wild again like we did with Paul! I told him that, too. But..." "But?" I asked. She went on, "He did say that, while he would jump at any opportunity to have sex with me, he just didn't think he could do a threesome. I think he just wants to do me." "Wow," was all I could say, "Is that something that you think you'd like to do?" "Well," she continued, "He is handsome, very, very sweet, and it has been a long, long time since he's been with a woman. He would make me feel very sexual. It's been a long time since we've had the opportunity or the courage to do something like we did with Paul. Yes, I'd like to fuck him." Again, she used the 'fuck' word. She clearly was turned on. "When?" I asked, as if I needed an answer, but she gave it to me anyway. "Now." "Alright. But please," I said, "I would at least like the pleasure of the details. And be as quiet as you can so that his sister and brother don't wake up!" She kissed me very deeply and very hard while I reached down and fingered the hell out of her sopping wet pussy. Oh, yeah, she was one hot woman! Then she broke away, undressed and slipped into a short slip/nightie. I took in the sight, admiring the softness, the gentle curves, and the perfectly-shaped breasts in the light that glowed into our bedroom from outside, thinking that he's going to have his hands all over that body in just a few moments. My cock hardened immediately. When she was done, she glided stealthily out the door, across the hall, and into his room, opening and closing the door without a sound. As the door closed, I knew that the deed was done. She's going to get fucked. There was no way that I could go back to sleep. I tried and tried, but the images of what must have been going on in that room crowded out any notions of sleep. My cock was clearly not going to subside. It had achieved a hardness that I rarely experience...it was going full-throttle. In time, I found myself creeping over to the common wall between our rooms. We each had a closet on opposite sides of the wall. I was so intrigued by what I could only imagine was going on that I pressed my ear to the inside closet wall to see if I could hear any of their love-making activity. I could barely make out some muffled noises...most likely sex noises. I had hoped to hear more than that, but I did tell her to keep it quiet so as not to alarm the others. At that point, all I could do was known that, at that very moment, his hard cock was more than likely plunging in an out of her. That thought almost brought me to an orgasm. My cock was so tingly that I dared not touch it...I wanted to save it for her return to my room. Across the Hall... I went back to bed, and the night eventually got the better of me. I drifted off to a fitful sleep. I was awakened by the movement of her getting back in bed. I looked at the alarm clock. She had been with him for nearly an hour and a half. She quietly slid in next to me under the sheets, wearing the nightie, but no panties. She didn't say anything. She just propped herself up over me, wrapped her arms around my back and shoulders, and planted her lips on mine for a wet, passionate kiss. I pulled her nightie up over her head and rolled her over on her back. It took only moments for the engorged head of my rock-hard cock to find the opening to her pussy. She was wet...wet with his come and with her own pussy juices. She was still turned on. My cock sank to its full depth in one stroke. As it did, she let out a small moan. We continued our hard kissing as my hips pistoned my cock in and out of her. As I stroked in and out of her, I whispered, "Do you like getting fucked by two men in a row?" She looked in my eyes and could only nod. Unfortunately, it didn't long before I was erupting a torrent of cum into her in a mind-blowing climax. I rammed my cock deep into her pussy and held it there as my pulsating cock spewed my semen into her belly, commingling my cum with that of another man. It seemed as if my cum-spasms wouldn't stop. But they eventually did. My cock took forever to soften. Until it did, I kept it planted deep in her womb, caressing and kissing her body in places that had just been touched by another. Completely spent, we laid there next to each other and drifted off to sleep with my cock still impaled in her cum-filled pussy. In the morning, we arose for breakfast, finding everyone still in their nightwear and robes, at the table enjoying coffee. It was as if everything was normal. And, on the surface, it was. I engaged in light, casual banter, trying to feel Pete out, wanting to be sure that he was not having any second thoughts or feelings of guilt about fucking my wife. At the first opportunity, Carly and I sought to get Pete alone so that we could reassure him that I was completely aware of it, and to try to make him understand why I was okay with it. It was an awkward conversation at first, but he was most grateful for my genuine concern for him, my friend. Carly did share with me what went on behind the door across the hall. But that's for another time. It was good that we did have our chat with Pete, because this left the door wide open for more experiences to share...again, for another time. Across the Hall - The Long Version My first submission of this event ("Across the Hall") was met with some valid comments, mostly about how it would have been significantly better had I shared what happened in the room across the hall. In response, I have resubmitted my recollections of the series of events in this experience, with an expansion on the activities from across the hall. To all readers...PLEASE...this is a submission in the Loving Wives section on the Literotica web site. By that alone, you should know that it involves marital and extramarital sex, as is fully disclosed in the description of this section in the Index. If this is not your thing, rather than waste your time reading it and make rude, angry comments (which will just be immediately deleted), you should perhaps browse the Index to find something that does appeal to you. You and the readers who do enjoy this subject matter will all be happier. Also, while some might consider this to be a classic 'cuck' story, it's not. My wife's adventure with my friend was with my full knowledge and permission. There was no humiliation, domination, disrespect, or betrayal...just a very erotic encounter by a loving woman who is married to a loving man that likes to help her celebrate her sexuality. We were that secure enough in our relationship to be open about our sexual needs and attitudes. Thanks for your consideration. And enjoy. ***** Several years ago, my wife and I flew cross-country to a high school friend's wedding. This was to be his second marriage. We originally planned on finding a nice motel in town, but received an invitation from Pete, the best man (one of my best friends in high school), to stay at his place, a 3-bedroom house with a pool in the back yard. He was recently divorced a year prior and would welcome the company, and we were still early in our careers, had a young family, and were always looking for ways to economize. We accepted the offer. We were greeted by Pete at the airport with big hugs. Even my wife Carly, who had never met Pete before, got a very big hug. Carly, whom I've discussed in another story ("Our First Threesome"), was a pretty woman. At 5'4" and 110 pounds, she still had a nice figure after 10 years of marriage and 2 children. Her breasts were natural and just right for her shape and height, being firm in spite of having had kids, and on the smaller size. She has short, brown hair, and killer green, 'fuck me' bedroom eyes. Luckily for me, she also had a sexual appetite that went along with those eyes. She couldn't ever seem to get enough sex with me. We got our luggage, and had a very short drive to Pete's house since he lived close to the airport. One thing about Carly is that she always seemed to have the ability to hit it off with friendly strangers, almost making them feel as if they'd known her for a long time. The rapport between Pete and Carly was no different. They hit it off right away, chatting up a storm during our short ride. Once we got to Pete's house, he showed us around, and then to our room where we took a few minutes to get settled in. Our room would be right across the hall from his bedroom. Once we emerged and found our way into the kitchen/dining room, we met back up with Pete who was sitting at the bar, pouring us all some wine to help take the edge off our trip. In no time at all, Carly picked up where she left off on the ride home, engaging Pete in banter, asking him untold questions about his life. Pete welcomed the interrogation and seemed to enjoy talking about himself, even answering the few questions she asked about his divorce. She found out that Pete's wife had left him for another man, and, to our surprise, that Pete had not had another woman in his life since then. Understandably, he still needed time for wounds to heal and to get reacquainted with himself. Carly doesn't drink often or much, so it doesn't take much to get her feeling tipsy. When she gets tipsy, she loosens up quite a bit, and her persona takes on a slightly different nature. After a couple of glasses of wine (a couple of rather full glasses), her persona began to change as if on cue. Her 'personal space' disappeared, and she began occasionally and lightly touching Pete during conversation as if his space disappeared, too. She became even more talkative and much friendlier to the point where you would have thought that Pete and Carly had been old friends from high school. I had to leave the room a couple of times, coming back to find them engrossed in their conversation, and staring intently at each other while talking. I thought to myself, "Uh oh. Pete's getting the full force of those killer 'bedroom' eyes." Our conversation remained, for the most part, rather innocuous. But Carly did boldly manage to ask a couple of penetrating questions, such as, "When you say you haven't been with a woman this past year, do you mean romantically or physically?" or, "How difficult is it to have been married with regular female companionship, then suddenly go cold turkey?" Pete didn't bat an eye. He answered the former, "Both," and the latter, "Quite difficult at first, but it's getting better." Our conversation didn't seem to go much longer after his answers because we had a dinner/dance party in honor of the bride and groom to go to with more of my school friends and others, and we had to get ready. Having stayed up later than Carly the night before, finishing up packing, and getting up extra early in the morning before Carly to get everything into the car, I was quite fatigued. I opted to take a short nap before I went to dinner, otherwise I knew that I would struggle to make it through the night. Carly didn't feel the need for a nap, and chose to begin getting ready. When it was time to go, I was still quite tired. Pete suggested that I sleep for another hour. Carly looked concerned about us being late. Pete quickly said it would be okay because they weren't going to eat right away, and suggested that perhaps she could ride along with him and explain to the others at dinner that I'd be along a little later in his other car. Carly mildly objected at first, but gave in when Pete said it would be a good opportunity to ask him any questions about me as a teenager. Carly (or the wine) giggled a little at that, and said, "That's a great idea." Carly dressed to the nines, wanting to make a grand first impression on my friends. She wore a sleeveless/backless, red, one-piece, belted dress with a slightly-plunging neck line, red satin high heels, and pearls that hung down slightly past where her modest, but noticeable cleavage began, almost as if the pearls drew your attention to that spot. Being backless, it was obvious that she was braless. With her breasts being the perfect size, she usually didn't have much to worry about. If she had to lean forward slightly, you could maybe get a glimpse of a little more breast, but not enough to see any of her nipples, which were dark and about the size of a half-dollar. She was a little concerned, but I reassured her that she was fine. So off they went to the dinner, while I shut my eyes for a little more sleep. I awoke later than I had planned, dressed quickly and headed for the restaurant where I found Carly and Pete enjoying themselves at the bar with another couple. I approached them and offered my apologies for my lateness. Carly reached for my hand, flashed me a smile and told me not to worry about it, that Pete had introduced her to several of the people, and that they were just passing the time away in conversation at the bar. It turned out that the couple was Pete's younger sister Rachel, whom I also knew from high school, and her husband, just in from out of town. They had come straight from the airport to the restaurant, but they were heading back to Pete's place afterwards to stay with him in his third bedroom. I was just a little uneasy because Rachel and I had gone together for a little while in high school and had sex quite a few times during that brief romance. Carly knew nothing about this, nor did I want her to know. After a quick drink, it was time to be seated for dinner. Dinner came and went quickly, followed by a few speeches, a few more drinks, and then dancing. I noticed that Carly's demeanor had not changed one bit since drinking the earlier glasses of wine at Pete's. In fact, she seemed to be a tad bit more outgoing than before. I asked her how it was going. "Oh, fantastic!" she replied, "You have nice friends, and Pete had a load of information about you! I also have had more to drink and am feeling just fine!" Now I was really worried. Just what did Pete tell her?! "Uh, how much did you have to drink?" I asked. She told me that she had three more glasses of wine. Good lord, she never drinks that much!! I danced with Carly throughout most of the evening, with Pete asking permission to dance with her a few times. Of course it was fine with me. With Carly being 'wine-friendly', it was certainly alright with her. When Carly and I danced, she held me very, very close during the slow songs, and we nuzzled and kissed a few times. When Carly drinks, she also gets very amorous with me. When she and Pete danced, while they weren't as close as she and I were, they were still somewhat on the close side, much closer than new-found friends would normally be. Yes, it must have been the wine. I also couldn't help but notice during the last dance what appeared to be Pete looking down a number of times. I thought to myself, "I'll be damned. He's trying to look down her dress!" A mixture of emotions hit me all at once. I was just a little bit jealous. This, after all, was my wife! But that thought was quickly met with the remembrances of when I shared her in a ménage-a-trois with my friend Paul in the Marines ten years earlier, and only shortly after we got married. That thought brought out feelings of dry-mouthed lust, where your mind begins to race and your heart begins to beat wildly. I could actually feel my cock begin to stir, and shifted in my seat to hide my growing bulge. Damn! I couldn't believe it. I was getting that same sexual arousal as with the Paul experience. The evening came to an end, and Carly and I drove together back to Pete's house. I chuckled and commented on how openly friendly she was tonight. Her face turned red, and she replied, "Oh, you have no idea!" I asked what she meant by that. She told me that, while on the drive to the restaurant, she and Pete had a very engaging conversation about me. She was learning things that she never knew, going on and on, asking more questions. Throughout that drive, Carly said, Pete kept looking over at her, sometimes for long moments, and she began to become concerned about their safety. As they were getting close to the night club, she realized that one of the two buttons at the top of the front of her dress had come undone. What was supposed to be a slightly modest view of cleavage was now a full-blown view of her entire breast, nipple and all. That's what he was staring at. She refastened the button without saying anything, acting as if nothing happened. Then she noticed that he was sporting a large hard-on in his pants. This caught her off guard, but she quickly surmised that it was because he was turned on at the sight of her tit. After a while, she mustered the courage to ask him how long her dress button had been undone. He replied, "From the beginning. It must have come undone when you got in." "Why didn't you say something?" she asked. "Are you kidding? And ruin the great view?!" was his response. "Besides, remember that it's been a while since I've seen one," he said. "Obviously!" she replied back, nodding at the erection in his trousers. They both had a good chuckle. Then Pete apologized. Carly told him not to worry, and that she felt very flattered that someone would still want to look. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about there," Pete said. Carly said she could feel herself blushing. And for the rest of the ride, all she could do was furtively glance at his unflagging hard-on, getting aroused by the moment. As I was listening, I became aware of that same dry-mouthed lust that I experienced in the restaurant. I was actually turned on at the thought of another man seeing my wife's naked breast, and perhaps even as much so at the thought of her being fixated with his hard-on. I had to press the issue. "How hard and how big was it?" I asked. "I don't know," she said, "It wasn't out. It was just sticking up under his pants. But it looked like it was a big one, a thick one. And it HAD to be very hard to make that kind of tent!" I became hard in no time, too. She saw my rising cock and came to the immediate realization of what effect this conversation was having on me. She began to chide me a little, kidding me about what it was that was making me hard. She wanted to hear me say something that was difficult for me to say...that it turned me on to think of her with another man. She changed the subject by asking me why I hadn't told her about me and Rachel. I asked her, "What about me and Rachel?" "Don't play games with me, Mr. Hard Dick. I know all about it!" "Pete tell you?" I asked. "Well, kind of," she said, "He inadvertently blurted out that she was coming to stay with us, too, and hoped that I didn't feel too uncomfortable with the idea. I asked if there was a reason for me to. He apologized and offered that perhaps he said something that he shouldn't have. But I got the picture. So, did you two fuck a lot?" She never uses the word 'fuck' unless she's horny. And between the wine, the conversation, and her ride over with Pete, there was no doubt in my mind that she was horny. "Yes, we did what teenagers do when they're young, virile, and new to sex. We fucked every chance we got," I replied, "Our hormones were raging!" "Kind of like mine are doing right now!" she said. I reached over, worked up the hem of her dress, and worked my hand up to her panties. She slightly raised her hips out of the seat and pulled her dress higher so that I could get better access. My fingers found the edge of her panties and worked their way inside to her pussy lips which were, by this time, juice-soaked. Although I couldn't get my fingers in very far because I was driving, I was able to work her juice all over her pussy, and to caress her love bud. She began to moan and writhe a little in her seat, humping her hips on my hand. As I fingered her, I asked her if she thought Pete was a good dancer. "Mmmm hmmm," was all she could say. I asked her if she knew that he was trying to look down her dress, trying to get another glance at her breasts. Again, "Mmmm hmmm. I knew that he could see them then, because he was looking down from above. I tried to get as close as I could without raising eyebrows so that he could get a better look." I asked, "Do you think it was turning him on like in the car?" She replied, "I know it did. Even though he hid it well in his pants, every now and then I could feel his hard dick against my hips." "What did you think of that? How did it make you feel?" I pressed. "It was erotic. Turned me on," she said. "Well, you know now that it kind of turned me on, too," I countered. "No kidding!" she blurted. We came to Pete's driveway all too quickly. As we pulled in, Pete was getting out of his car, having arrived only moments earlier. He glanced over toward our car to find us hurriedly recomposing ourselves, flashed a little grin, shook his head, then looked beyond us toward an approaching car. His sister and brother pulled up behind us. While Pete got them settled in to their room, Carly and I stayed at the bar in his dining room. Carly poured herself a half-glass of wine. Rachel and her husband came out briefly, but offered their apologies, needing to get to bed after a long day. Pete had poured himself a glass of wine in the meantime. I looked at Carly and said, "I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I'm with them. I just don't know how much longer I can stay awake." Carly said for me to go on ahead, that she just poured a glass of wine, and that she'll keep Pete company while he finishes the glass that he just poured, too. I gave her a kiss and said, "See you in a few, then." My head hit the pillow, and I was out. I awoke to subdued voices from down the hall in the dining room. I looked at the clock and realized that I had been asleep for almost two hours. It was now 1 a.m. I slightly opened the door to get a better sense of what was going on. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it was clear that they were engaged in deep conversation. I just went back to bed, hoping she'd be along soon. I couldn't get back to sleep, though. My mind was racing, wondering what they were talking about. I lay there for another half hour when the conversation stopped. A few minutes later, the door to our room softly opened, and Carly came over to my side of the bed. She whispered, "Are you awake?" I whispered back to her in the affirmative. She apologized for staying so long. I told her it was okay. Then she tried to say something, but clearly had difficulty getting the words out. I asked her what was on her mind. She asked, "Do you remember our threesome with Paul?" "How can I forget? I get a raging hard-on every time I think of it," I said. "Why is that?" she asked. I responded with, "Well, I'm not sure it's something that a woman would fully understand. Kind of a guy thing. I'm not even sure that guys fully understand it. There's just something about knowing that others find your wife sexually desirable and want to fuck her. It's even more erotic when they do and you get to be there to experience it, to watch her being satisfied as a woman." "Well," she went on, "What if another man wants to fuck me now? How would you feel about that?" I told her, "If it's an erotically-satisfying experience for you, then I would feel the same way. It would give me nut!" "Someone wants to fuck me!" she said. "Pete?" I asked. She said, "Yes. And I think I'd like to do it. That is, if you're okay with it. We've been talking all night long, and he's been dropping sexual hints. Then he told me that he does find me very attractive, and could easily fantasize how sex would be with me, but wouldn't act on it out of respect for you. I hope you don't mind that I shared with him how we had a threesome...so that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable or feel any need to apologize for his comments. His attention to me all night long has me in such an aroused state that I just want to do something wild again like we did with Paul! I told him that, too. But..." "But?" I asked. She went on, "He did say that, while he would jump at any opportunity to have sex with me, he just didn't think he could do a threesome. I think he just wants to do me." "Wow," was all I could say, "Is that something that you think you'd like to do?" "Well," she continued, "He is handsome, very, very sweet, and it has been a long, long time since he's been with a woman. He would make me feel very sexual. It's been a long time since we've had the opportunity or the courage to do something like we did with Paul, or with Mike and Janet (see "Road Trip). Yes, I'd like to fuck him." Again, she used the 'fuck' word. She clearly was turned on. "When?" I asked, as if I needed an answer, but she gave it to me anyway. "Now." "Alright. But please," I said, "I would at least like the pleasure of the details. And be as quiet as you can so that his sister and brother don't wake up!" She kissed me very deeply and very hard while I reached down and fingered the hell out of her sopping wet pussy. Oh, yeah, she was one hot woman! Then she broke away, undressed and slipped into a short, satin slip and bikini panties. Across the Hall - The Long Version I took in the sight, admiring the softness, the gentle curves, and the perfectly-shaped breasts in the light that glowed into our bedroom from outside, thinking that he's going to have his hands all over that body in just a few moments. My cock hardened immediately. When she was done, she gave me a sensual kiss, then glided stealthily out the door, across the hall, and into his room, opening and closing the door without a sound. As the door closed, I knew that the deed was done. She's going to get fucked. There was no way that I could go back to sleep. I tried and tried, but the images of what must have been going on in that room crowded out any notions of sleep. My cock was clearly not going to subside. It had achieved a hardness that I rarely experience...it was going full-throttle. In time, I found myself creeping over to the common wall between our rooms. We each had a closet on opposite sides of the wall. I was so intrigued by what I could only imagine was going on that I pressed my ear to the inside closet wall to see if I could hear any of their love-making activity. I could barely make out some muffled noises...most likely sex noises. I had hoped to hear more than that, but I did tell her to keep it quiet so as not to wake the others. At that point, all I could do was know that, at that very moment, his hard cock was more than likely plunging in an out of her. That thought almost brought me to an orgasm. My cock was so tingly that I dared not touch it...I wanted to save it for her return to my room. I went back to bed, and the night eventually got the better of me. I drifted off to a fitful sleep. I was awakened by the movement of her getting back in bed. I looked at the alarm clock. She had been with him for nearly an hour and a half. She quietly slid in next to me under the sheets, wearing her slip, but no panties. She didn't say anything. She just propped herself up over me, wrapped her arms around my back and shoulders, and planted her lips on mine for a wet, passionate kiss. I pulled her slip up over her head and rolled her over on her back. It took only moments for the engorged head of my rock-hard cock to find the opening to her pussy. She was wet...wet with his come and with her own pussy juices. She was still turned on. My cock sank to its full depth in one stroke. As it did, she let out a small moan. We continued our hard kissing as my hips pistoned my cock in and out of her. As I stroked in and out of her, I whispered, "Do you like getting fucked by two men in a row?" She looked in my eyes and could only nod. Unfortunately, it didn't long before I was erupting a torrent of cum into her in a mind-blowing climax. I rammed my cock deep into her pussy and held it there as my pulsating cock spewed my semen into her belly, commingling my cum with that of another man. It seemed as if my cum-spasms wouldn't stop. But they eventually did. My cock took forever to soften. Until it did, I kept it planted deep in her womb, caressing and kissing her body in places that had just been touched by another. Completely spent, we laid there next to each other and drifted off to sleep with my cock still impaled in her cum-filled pussy. In the morning, we arose for breakfast, finding everyone still in their nightwear and robes, at the table enjoying coffee. It was as if everything was normal. And, on the surface, it was. I engaged in light, casual banter, trying to feel Pete out, wanting to be sure that he was not having any second thoughts or feelings of guilt about fucking my wife. At the first opportunity, Carly and I sought to get Pete alone so that we could reassure him that I was completely aware of it, and to try to make him understand why I was okay with it. It was an awkward conversation at first, but he was most grateful for my genuine concern for him. Later in the day, when Carly and I had some private time in our room, she did recount to me what went on behind the door across the hall. And then I fucked her mercilessly. Her story... When she slipped inside his room, she could barely see him in the darkness, lying in his bed with a sheet half on his body. Her entry seemingly roused him from a half-sleep, and he propped his chest and head up, leaning back on his elbows. She walked over to the foot of his bed, and stopped there, looking at him. "Well, hello, there," he quietly said to her. She could hardly speak, but managed to whisper a hello back to him. "Should I be here?" He replied with, "I'd like to think so. I've been fantasizing about it all day. I'm sure hoping that you're in the right place!" With that reassurance, she moved to the side of his bed and sat down. She began to gently draw the sheet from his body, revealing that he was wearing stylish boxer shorts. She also saw that his cock began to stir within, soon creating a mild tent in the shorts. She reached over and rearranged his shorts so that his cock could find its freedom from the shorts. It sprang out from the front opening. She said that she had suspected that it might have been a good size, but was impressed with just how big it was...about two inches longer than me...and it wasn't even fully erect yet. She let him know that she'd had fantasies of her own, too. "Oh? Tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine!" Carly shared that she was very curious about what his package looked like, what it would feel like, what it would feel like to be with him. "That's mine, too," he said. "When I danced with you tonight, I felt how soft your arms and hands are, and drank in how feminine you were. I am dying to feel how soft the rest of your body is...how warm, soft, and moist your pussy is. I imagined all day what it must feel like. I wanted to find out for myself in the worst way." This evoked a little giggle from her. He reached over to her shoulders and drew her down to him, and their lips met. His warm lips and tongue melted her, and she found herself pouring herself into him. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeper and harder. He raised himself from his position and got onto his knees, pulling her up onto her knees. As they faced each other and kissed, his hands began to caress her small, firm breasts through the satin of her slip. His caresses sent electric pulses throughout her whole body, and hardened her nipples so that they stood out under the slip. She began stoking his now fully-engorged and fully-emerged cock for a few minutes until he grasped the bottom of her slip, pulling it up her body, exposing her flat tummy and beautiful breasts. Nearly naked, she reached down to her panties and removed them, leaving herself completely naked in front of this man whom she had just met. He took a few moments to take in the sight of this shapely woman that was in his bed. He then removed his boxers. Now they were both completely in their glory. They moved towards each other on the bed, wrapping their arms around each other, and kissed as deeply and as passionately as they physically could. Carly could feel his thick cock pressed against her stomach. Pete's kisses began working their way across her cheek to Carly's neck, and down her chest to her breasts. He took turns softly licking and kissing her nipples. All she could do was try to pull his head closer in to her breasts. Her breathing became labored as the tingling in her pussy grew more intense. As he ministered to her breasts, his hands slipped down the sides of her waist and around her hips to the small of her back. There, they began to caress their way down to the cheeks of her ass. He cupped both cheeks and lightly massaged them. With each undulation of his hands, his fingertips crept farther and farther down to the underside of her ass towards her pussy lips. She let out a sigh when they finally reached their destination. He let his fingertips lightly brush against the folds of her pussy lips, but refrained from probing deeper. She began to move her hips in an effort to get his fingertips deeper into her, but in vain. Pete knew just what he wanted to do. He wanted to allow the anticipation to build within her. To Carly's dismay, he drew his hands away from her pussy. But he then placed his hands on her shoulders and tenderly urged her backwards onto the bed. Once she was on her back, he moved down her body so that his head was facing her pussy. He placed his hands on her legs, slightly pushing them up into the air over his shoulders. Now his mouth was aligned with her vaginal opening. As he slowly, almost teasingly, bore down on her pussy, she could feel his warm breathing on her mound. It aroused her to fever pitch. Jolts of electricity shot through her body when his tongue made its way to her slit, and she flexed her hips into the air, pushing her pussy harder onto his mouth. He responded by burying his tongue deeper into her fuck hole, and began rimming it. In no time at all, Carly's body was wracked with a thundering, almost uncontrollable orgasm. Pete reached up to cup his hands over her mouth to help muffle her moans so as not to wake anybody down the hall. He body spasmed for a couple of minutes, with wave after wave of ecstacy coursing through her body. When the orgasm subsided, all she could manage to do was just lie there, panting and sighing, barely able to keep her 'fuck me' eyes open. Pete allowed her to have a moment or two to recover, caressing her entire body in the meantime. Once she regained her senses and energy, she rolled over to his lap and began licking his rock-hard, massive cock. He leaned back to make it stand up, giving her better access to it. After kissing and licking up and down his shaft for a few moments, she then began licking the head of it, tasting some pre-cum seeping out of the tip's opening. Carly has had a lot of experience sucking dicks, both, before and after she met me. She knew what to do to get the head of that cock into her mouth. Once in, she didn't stop there, taking as much of his shaft as she could. As she bobbed her head up and down his pole, he began to move his hips, fucking back at her mouth. His cock was too long to get the whole shaft in, so she mouthed as much as she could, and used her hand to pump up and down the exposed base. That combination, along with having gone without sex for so long, was more than Pete could handle. He couldn't hold off, and his cock developed a mind of its own, blasting the inside of her mouth with his cum. Carly has never been much of one for swallowing. Out of shear lust, she tried to swallow as much as she could, but there was just too much. Some of his pearly juice seeped out from between her lips and his cock, running down his shaft onto her fingers that were wrapped around its base. When Pete finished his cum spasms, she removed her mouth and hand from his cock, and then began licking his juice from her fingers. She looked right into his half-closed eyes as she did it, flashing him a little grin in the process. Carly said, "I hope we're not done. There's more that we can do!" Pete, now fully on his back, agreed, but let her know that he'll need a little time to recharge. Carly smiled, then moved over to snuggle with him. As he lightly stroked her body, she could only sigh her contentment. While basking in the moment, they chatted a little. Pete was concerned about making waves, but Carly let him know that, while this is not our usual sex life, we have had a little spice, as with the threesome that she mentioned earlier in the evening. She began to share with him some of her sexual encounters from before she and I met, wanting to keep her and my sex life private beyond sharing about the threesome. She told Pete that I liked hearing about her 'sexcapades', that it was a source of arousal for me, and thought that perhaps it might be erotic enough to help bring his cock back to life. Either her reminiscences worked, or perhaps her gentle fondling of his cock worked, or both. In any case, it began to rise to the occasion. As it was engorging, she rolled onto her back, and he moved over her to plant kisses on her face and lips. He reached down to stroke her pussy lips, and one of his fingers found its way into her vagina. She gasped lightly. He worked her up with his fingers, getting her love juices to flow from with her pussy. Once he thought that she was lubricated enough, he positioned himself directly over her. She spread her legs open, exposing her vagina to the raging hard-on that was bobbing up and down just inches away from it. As he lowered himself down to her, she reached down and, taking hold of his cock just behind its enlarged head, guided it towards her opening. He paused just as the head pressed against her pussy, and she let out a soft moan. She rubbed the head of his cock up and down her pussy slit so as to bathe more of it in her pussy juice. Pete then began to press his cock into her canal. As it slowly slid in, she moaned a long, low, "Uhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnn!" He impaled about two-thirds of his cock into her, then held it at that depth for several long moments, locking his lips onto hers in a deep, probing kiss. As soon as he started softly pistoning in and out of her, she broke the kiss, burying her face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder to stifle her moans of pleasure. As his thrusts became deeper and more forceful, her pussy tingled more and more. Her orgasm came crashing. It was felt in every neuron of her body. Her entire body spasmed over and over, her legs closing and opening against his hips as he pounded his cock deep into her cunt. Her hands were clenching his ass in an effort to pull him even deeper into her pussy. Since Pete had cum from Carly's magnificent oral, he was able to last. He continued to fuck her in this missionary position for several minutes longer. Carly thought she was orgasming the entire time. After a while, Pete moved from over her, and asked her to get on her hands and knees. Once she was in position, Pete moved in behind her pussy, aimed his cock at her opening, and slipped it in. Carly's head and shoulders instantly went down to the bed out of sheer ecstasy. She moaned into a pillow as he plowed into her pussy. While fucking her from behind, he leaned over her back. Propping himself up with one arm, he reached around under her with the other to fondle one of her tits. This made her moan a little louder into the pillow, but still not loud enough to be heard down the hall. Carly estimated that he rode her this way for about five minutes or more, varying the speed and depth that he plunged her depths. He pulled his stiff rod out of her opening, got on his back, and beckoned her to sit on his cock. Carly declared with a smile that she likes 'Cowgirl'. She feels the cock more in this position because it allows her to control its positioning and motion. In no time, she was experiencing another intense orgasm. Her head jerked up and down, and her hair flowed over her face each time it jerked up. The sight of it was enough for Pete. 'Cowgirl' worked for him, too. Later, in the afterglow, he told her that, as she fucked up and down on his tool, he began to feel the pressure of his own orgasm starting to well up from within the base of his cock. Carly urged him to fuck her hard... real hard. Hearing Carly use sexual language was the trigger. His jism came shooting up through his cock, exploding deep into her womb. Spurt after spurt, he bathed the inside of her pussy with his semen. Knowing that he was filling her pussy with his cum intensified the orgasm that she was still having. She could feel his sperm escaping out of her pussy opening, down around his shaft, lathering up her opening and his rod as they churned against each other. After the spasms of the orgasm ceased, they stayed locked in that position...Pete on his back with his still-hard cock penetrating up into Carly's cum-filled pussy, and Carly towering over Pete with her eyes closed, and her breasts heaving as she took in deep breaths. Slowly, Carly lowered herself against Pete's body on the bed. They lay locked in that position for several minutes, feeling each other breathing. All the while, Carly could also feel Pete's cum seeping out of her body. As his tool softened, the cum gushed out more. "My God! How much did he shoot into me?" Carly thought to herself. It really didn't matter. No matter how much it was, she got to feel a man's cock in her, and had the thrill of bringing him to an orgasm with him cumming inside of her. After our last child, Carly went back on the pill. Even though she didn't exactly like the pill, this is one of the reasons she uses it...so that she can fuck me bareback and enjoy me cumming in her. And now she had the pleasure of the sensation of Pete's cock sliding in and out, flooding her vagina with his sperm. They stayed in that embrace, reveling in the afterglow, sharing with each other how intensely good it was, and what they especially liked about it. After some time, they thought they should let Carly get back across the hall to our room so as not to push their luck. They kissed and fondled some more. Then Carly cleaned herself up a little, putting her slip and panties back on, and made out a little more. As Pete was getting hard again, he suggested that, if she were going to go, it was now or never. When she was ready to exit, she and Pete went to his door. Pete quietly opened it a crack, and looked down the hall to see if the coast was clear. While Pete was checking the hallway, Carly, after wearing her panties for a little so as to soak in some traces of their sex, removed them and handed them to him, wanting him to have them as a reminder. Carly slipped out and across the hall back to our room. She gently opened our door and found her way over to the bed, and she slipped in with me. And that's how I found her when I awoke...her slip on, no panties, and a pussy full of her juice and Pete's cum. As we flew back home, we were both in a euphoric state of mind. Carly was in sexual bliss, her pussy feeling warmed from the fucking that she got from Pete. I found myself constantly looking at her in amazement that she had just fucked another man, and that she likely still had his and my cum in that pussy of hers in the seat next to me. Every time she saw me looking at her, she'd just look back at me with her "Fuck Me" eyes and give me that little grin of hers. Our sex life was on another level after that. We would talk about the experience often as a means of foreplay, then fucking each other's brains out. It was a new experience for her and me. She was able to have a sexual experience on her own as a married woman...a taboo, but, in this case, with my knowledge and consent. We weren't able to repeat the experience during that trip because of the additional company staying with him, not wanting to push the risk of getting caught. We did, however, get together with Pete later in the year when he was traveling on business and found himself in our area. We invited him to stay with us. Of course, he jumped at the chance. And, yes, we did invite him into our bedroom...but this time as a threesome as insisted on by Carly, knowing that we would all benefit by sharing the experience with me. Our second visit with Pete might make for another story, but perhaps for another time. For now, I'm going to devote my writing to sharing what few first-time sexual adventures that we had. Carly and I found it to be more erotic when we explored new territory together.