The Guest Pt. 01

I suppose I should have seen this coming.

You've been rough with me all month. More than you usually are. It was like you were trying to prove a point. The look in your eyes afterwards was pensive, almost wistful. And when we held each other in bed, your mind was far away.

When you return home from the office today, a little later than usual, that same pensive look is still on your face, along with something else. I can see it as you step into the kitchen to find me.

"Carly. Someone's joining us for dinner tonight."

It's a Friday, and as I usually do on a Friday, I come home from work, take a shower, and slip into my nightgown as I make dinner. It's comfortable, but the real reason I wear these things is because you love how they look on me. I know things have been a little... I can't really put it into words, but things have been different lately. So I've been wearing these more out of habit than to actually feel and look sexy. Hopefully you'll still enjoy the view. Why kill your fun just because I'm going through a rough patch?

Still, it is hardly appropriate for company.

"I need to go get changed," I say.

You grab my hand. "Actually... what you're wearing is fine."

A wave of regret washes over me as I realise what you've done.

"We don't have to."

You tilt my head back and kiss me so deeply that I have to lean against you for support.

"Why don't you make us some drinks?" you drawl when you release me. "We'll be in the living room."

I curse under my breath as I watch you leave. Why did I say it? And why do you remember everything?

It was a year ago, when we were still brand new to each other and just a few weeks into fucking. I am in my late twenties; you're almost a decade my senior. You were always gentle at the start--tender, attentive, giving. I was the one who signalled that I wanted more. I would move your arms where I wanted them, or push myself harder against you to indicate that I wanted you to go harder, deeper. You would oblige with that knowing smile... like you're intrigued. Good god, do you have any idea how handsome you are when you smile like that?

One night you held me down in bed, looked me in the eyes and said, "you might be the sexiest woman I have ever met."

My immediate thought was not to fall for it. You probably said that all the time, if not to every woman you bedded, at least to the ones you saw regularly. But the way you held me and looked at me when you said it, I almost felt like you actually meant it.

You scoffed gently. "Why do you look surprised?"

"Sorry," I said, biting my lip. "It's just a little hard to believe because... I feel like you're so... experienced."

"And what gave you that impression?"

I want to hide my face, but you still have my arms pinned down. I make myself look you in the eyes and say it.

"Because this is the best sex I've ever had."

You laughed and kissed me on the lips. "Same. And I don't want to brag about how many women I've been with, because the point is that it's never been this good with anyone else. I want to have you all the time, and I don't have to do anything crazy. Everything just flows and feels amazing. That's what makes you so especially sexy to me."

I should have been happy to hear it, but instead my brain latched onto that one word.

"What do you mean, do anything crazy?"

You kissed me on the hand. "We've sown our wild oats. We've had our little sexual adventures--and misadventures, mostly. I'm so done with all of that now. I'm almost forty. I just want some steady, mind-blowing sex with a beautiful, mind-blowingly sexy woman."

I tried to focus as your lips sent tiny goosebumps up my arm. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?"

You removed your lips from my skin to give me a curious look. "I don't need to go into details. Suffice to say I was pretty open-minded in my youth. Nothing ventured, right? I don't care what you've done in the past either."

Your lips commence their journey towards my neck. I just can't shut up.

"I can't really say I've done anything... that we haven't done."

You stop kissing me, which wasn't the goal at all.

"All right," you say, pulling me into a sitting position. "Let's talk. No judgment. What's the steamiest, dirtiest, craziest thing you have ever done?"

I scramble to come up with something. "Gave a man a blowjob on the first date?"

Your expression changes. "You're joking."

"He wasn't like a stranger or anything," I added defensively. "We knew each other and flirted back and forth for months before we..."

"That's not what I meant, Carly," you huffed. "Christ, I thought you were young, but old enough to have... to have... explored a little."

I must have looked worried, because you wrapped your arms around me.

"Is it a bad thing that I haven't?"

You pause before answering. "It's not like that. I just... I don't want you to look back someday and regret settling for me while you still had the chance to explore your tastes. At least I can say with certainty that this..." you kiss me on the neck again, "... is as good as it gets. But it doesn't seem fair that I've had the opportunity and you haven't."

Your lips, your arms, the adoring way you looked at me; it all felt so intoxicating. All I wanted in that moment was more of the same. I couldn't imagine how I could possibly get tired of this.

"I like everything we've done so far," I say truthfully.

"Good to know," you murmured. "Because I think I'm falling in love with you."

You smiled that smile again, and I think I melted. At the very least, I was getting plenty turned on. We had already been at it, right before that exchange, but we made love again. It was bliss.

Afterwards as we both rode our respective afterglows I blurted out the words.

"Although I've always wondered what it would be like to be shared."

I regretted them as soon as they left my mouth. You went quiet--even your breathing grew silent. I felt like a completely idiot for ruining such a perfect night.

"It's probably better in my head," I hurried to add. "Forget I mentioned it. I don't need anything more than just this."

I reached out to squeeze your hand.

Thankfully, you squeezed it back.

Neither of us brought it up again. Things have progressed slowly but steadily since. We liked to do things for each other, even out of the bedroom. You'd fix and clean my car, buy me flowers, run errands for me. I cooked your favourite meals, bought the groceries, ironed your shirts. Things felt so easy, so right. We could talk for hours, enjoy each other's company in silence. The sex was superlatively enjoyable. Ten months into the relationship, you asked me to move in. It made sense; except for when either of us had to travel to for work, I was in your bed every night anyway. We were in love, or something that felt an awful lot like it.

You had the bigger and nicer apartment, so I gave up my lease. You helped me pack my things. They're all over your place now--my cushions on your couch, my favourite mugs in your kitchen cabinet, my books on your shelf, my makeup, lotions and tools clogging up your bathroom drawer, my clothes taking up half the space in your now-overflowing closet.

That was when I started feeling anxious, though I had no idea why. You started pushing yourself harder in the bedroom, as though you figured you could fuck it out of me. That knowing smile on your face was quickly replaced by a pensive one. The sex was still good enough to make you cum, though I noticed it took a little more work than usual. The real challenge wasn't your orgasms, but mine. You tried--I know how hard you tried--but what used to happen fairly predictably in your competent hands, tongue and cock, suddenly became elusive.

Two weeks ago, I started faking it. I thought you couldn't tell, but I should have known better. That wasn't fair to you. I should have been honest.

You tried mellowing things down last night, but I was still in my funk. "I'm sorry," I said last night, after you'd spent a good hour on me with no result. I offered to suck you off, but you just kissed me on the forehead and went to sleep.

That brings us to right now. My heart raced as I brought out your whiskey sours--no foam and on ice, the way you prefer it in the summer--to the living room. You're sitting on either end of the sofa. You are in your business attire, sans suit, tie and shoes.

So is he.

I have never seen him before. He is tall, like you. Handsome like you. But he is dark haired to your blond, and had a broader build and a darker tan. While you are usually calm, brooding and thoughtful, he seems more upbeat and energetic. You are discussing work as I enter the room. From the sounds of it, he works in the same industry as you do.

He looks at me eagerly but waits for you to introduce us. I feel horribly exposed in my flimsy nightgown, low cut enough for him to stare down my neckline, short enough for him to get a glimpse of my panties, if I don't walk carefully.

"Rich," you say as I set a tray down on the coffee table. "This is Carly."

Rich accepts the drink when I offer it. "You are absolutely stunning."

His voice is a little high pitched compared to yours, but polite. I feel my face flush and hope I'm not blushing too hard. I don't care what Rich thinks. It's your gaze I'm conscious of.

When I hand you your drink, you wrap your hand around mine.

"Darling," you drawl, "why don't you come and sit between us."

I felt the once-familiar chill run down my spine. I hadn't felt it in weeks. I lower myself into the sofa between you and Rich, whose eyes have never left my body since I stepped into the room. You immediately place your hand on the back of my waist, which comforts me.

"Good lord, John," Rich remarks, shaking his head. "I can see why you've changed."

I look at you in surprise. "Changed?"

"Rich is an old friend of mine from grad school," you cut in. "We've shared some... interesting experiences on campus. I trust him and I know his style. I've also told him you haven't done this before."

"Done what?" I ask, though I think I know the answer.

You caress my back. "You don't have to feel ashamed about your fantasies, darling. That's why I want you to give this a real shot. I trust Rich to try and make it as safe and enjoyable as possible for you."

You lean in so close I can feel your breath on my ear. "More to the point, I know that you want to."

Without warning, you slide your hand between my thighs and graze my slit. You chose your timing well; if the reminder of my fantasy hadn't done the job, the way you whispered in my ear certainly did. I know I'm getting wet despite my screaming nerves.

Rich's hand replaces yours on the back of my waist. His hand feels strong but his touch is gentle.

"Do you want to take the lead?" You ask, your hot breath still on my ear. "Or do you want him to?"

I have to close my eyes to say it. "I want him to take the lead."

Rich takes that as his cue, reaches over to lift my chin to his face, and kisses me softly. He kisses me again, his hands are reaching around my thighs, slipping under my nightgown, and sliding around the bare skin of my waist. He picks me up and lifts me onto his lap so I am straddling him, lips never leaving mine. I feel his stiff bulge under his pants and let out a moan. He found this encouraging enough to push my hips against him as he continued making out with me. I move my hips with his, almost involuntarily.

Our lips part eventually so I can catch my breath, and before I can turn to look at you, your lips have replaced his. Rich grunts as he continues grinding his hard-on against me through his pants as your tongue plays with mine. When you release me, Rich lifts me off his lap and places me on the floor between his legs, then unzips his pants and pulls them, along with his boxers, down to his ankles.

He pulls out his cock and offers it to me.

I glance at you uncertainly, and you mouth the words "go on".

I kneel down in front of Rich. He's a good size, not as long as yours but a fair bit thicker. He's also clean shaven and smells like he's just cleaned himself up, which I appreciate. I hold up his cock and look him in the eyes as I run my tongue experimentally over the tip. He smiles, then his mouth drops open as I slide my lips around the head and give it a suck. I have to widen my jaw slightly for him, but it feels fine. I run my lips along the length of his shaft from tip to base and back again, getting him nice and slippery, then return my mouth to the base of his cock and start lapping at his balls while pumping him with my hand. Rich lets out a long, luxurious moan.

I alternate between teasing his balls and sucking his cock, occasionally sliding him as far down my throat as possible, sucking hard and flicking him with my tongue as I go, to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head.

My other hand reaches for you, and you place your cock in it. I immediately bring it to my mouth and start polishing it with my throat. I'm used to your length and girth, and can easily slide you in balls-deep. My hand continues pumping Rich's cock as I gag on yours. You're both moaning while your hands travel along my body, gently caressing my hair, my shoulders, my breasts.

When my mouth returns to Rich's cock, he pulls my nightgown up above my head, picks me up and lays me down on the sofa, slides my panties off--smirking at how wet it was--and spreads my legs wide open. He fishes a condom out of his shirt pocket, unbuttons and removes his shirt, and slides the condom on. My eyes search frantically for you as he runs his fingers along me to feel how slick I was, and presses himself against me. You squeeze my hand just as he enters me.

I gasp and realise I am tensing up against him, as though he is an intruder. His girthier cock stretches me, not unpleasantly, because he is moving slowly enough and gently enough that there is very little resistance, and no pain.

That is when you turn my face and slide your cock inside my mouth. You start fucking my face as Rich thrusts harder and deeper into my pussy. This is what it feels like, I realise. This is what it feels like to have two cocks inside me at once. It's almost overwhelming at first, but soon I give in to the sensation of being filled by both of you. You hold onto my face and move as deep into my throat as you can go, forcing me to relax to avoid gagging, while the tip of Rich's cock repeatedly finds my cervix.

Sooner than I expect, my body begins to spasm and tense up, my back arches and I feel the first waves of orgasm approach. You spot them immediately and pull out of my mouth, unmuffling my loud, pleading moans while Rich continues ramming himself into me. Rich moans right along with me, his thrusts grow faster and more urgent. You hold my body down and lower your face to mine. Our eyes lock as I shudder with pleasure and cum onto another man's cock.

- To be continued -