Things We Tried On - Ch. 05

It was one of those classic moments -- we'd all wanted it to happen, but no one had taken the first step to actually make it happen. Typical us.

And let's be honest: in swinging, the thrill isn't just physical. It's mental. Emotional. Vicarious.

The idea of me being deeply, wildly pleasured by Ken? That alone lit Archie up. Maybe even more than anything he could do with Barbara.

That's the part most people just don't get.

"They think it's tit for tat," I said once, and Archie nodded like he'd heard it a hundred times.

"Quid pro quo," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly," I said. "Like you only let another man touch me because you're getting his wife in return. As if it's some kind of barter system. An exchange of goods."

Even the word swapping sounds transactional. I've always hated that term -- like we're handing each other off at a yard sale.

"I prefer swinging," Archie said. "It's not about giving something up. It's about opening something up." He paused, then grinned. "And you swing well."

We all laughed.

"No, seriously," he said, turning to me. "I wanted you to be with Ken. Not just to get a free pass with Barbara -- I mean, sure, that was part of it. But the real thing? The real turn-on? Was knowing you'd come back glowing. Satisfied. Maybe a little shaken. That got me."

I met his eyes across the room. "You told me that, remember? You said, 'I want to see you go wild. For once, don't hold back.'"

"And I meant it," Archie said. "I wanted to see it. Just like I wanted you to see me with Barbara. I didn't want to hide it -- I wanted you to watch."

"We all did," Barbara added softly. "Eventually."

"Not at first," I said. "It took time. We had to learn how to let go... without letting go of each other."

"Learn how to get turned on by it," Ken said with a crooked grin, "instead of scared by it."

A pause followed -- quiet, thoughtful, a little electric. Then Barbara smiled.

"Well," she said, "we did learn."

Oh, did we ever.

We had to grow into it -- all of it. Before we could even imagine doing everything in the same room, we had to get comfortable with what we were doing in the first place. Like we've always said: none of this happened overnight. It was a slow burn. A gradual unraveling of everything we thought we knew. Everything we were raised to believe.

"Even now," I remember saying once, "in what we like to call an enlightened age, people still carry around these old ideas like baggage."

Barbara nodded. "Morality dressed up as modernity," she said. "It's still the same script underneath."

And it's true. Even those of us who thought we were progressive -- who had no problem with premarital sex, who believed that what a married couple did in bed was private and beautiful -- we still, deep down, held onto this sense that sex had to be secret. Private. Intimate. Tied up in love, or at the very least in exclusivity. That anything else was somehow... wrong.

"You can throw away the rules intellectually," Ken once said, "but it doesn't mean they're gone. They hang around like ghosts."

Exactly. It's conditioning. And getting free of it takes time. You don't leap into freedom. You crawl toward it. Step by step.

"So," someone once asked us, "when it finally happened -- the four of you, together, same room -- was it planned? Someone's suggestion?"

"No," I said. "Not really."

"It just... happened," Ken added with a little smile. "Though to be fair, it had come up in conversation."

"Half-jokes," Archie chuckled. "'Why do we always split up?' I said once. 'I wouldn't mind watching Linda with Ken.'"

"We all laughed," said Barbara. "But you know how jokes go. There's always something real underneath."

***

The moment itself was far simpler than anyone might expect.

Barbara came over that morning to help me plan a kids' party.

She was barefoot, as usual. Lip gloss shimmering. Hair in that artfully lazy twist that made her look like she'd just rolled out of a lover's bed. She brought a bottle of prosecco and a head full of chaotic, brilliant ideas.

"I was thinking... costume party," she said, curling up on my couch, legs tucked under her like a cat. "Whimsical. Naughty, if we dare. I've been collecting things for years. Still have my entire dress-up drawer from college."

I grinned. "So do I."

We ended up in the bedroom, knee-deep in tulle, satin, and temptation. Out came the old trunk. We unearthed fairy wings, tiaras, velvet gloves, opera masks. Then things started to shift. A black lace bustier. A pair of leather garters. A collar with a tiny silver bell.

Barbara's fingers lingered on it. "Someone's been hiding treasure," she whispered.

Some of the pieces made us laugh until we cried. Others made the air grow thick, heavy with a different kind of anticipation. A pink vibrator rolled out of a silk pouch. Sleek. Warm from being held too often. Barbara turned it over in her hands and gave me a look that was more question than statement.

"It's seen things," I murmured. "Mostly me."

She smiled, slow and wicked. "And you've seen yourself with it, haven't you?"

I didn't answer. I didn't have to.

Then came the leather cuffs. The blindfold. A strap that Archie had ordered years ago and never found the courage to use. Barbara clipped the cuffs to her own wrists with a soft metallic click and let out a tiny, breathy sound. She didn't break eye contact.

We tried on outfits. Things that clung and shimmered. Things that revealed far more than they concealed. I slipped into a sheer robe with nothing underneath. Barbara wore a see-through camisole that stopped just shy of obscenity. Her nipples were taut beneath the fabric. We pressed against each other in front of the mirror, laughing, posing, tipsy on memory and possibility.

That's when Archie walked in. He meant to ask about lunch. He never got the words out.

He stood there, stunned. Eyes devouring the sight of his wife and her best friend tangled in glitter and lace. My robe had fallen halfway down one shoulder. Barbara was sucking her finger. We turned to him slowly, like a stage show in mid-act, and I watched something shift in his posture--something primal, unguarded.

"I think," Barbara said, voice low and deliberate, "that your husband wants to play."

I reached behind me, unfastened my robe, and let it slide to the floor.

That's when things stopped being pretend.

Barbara set the cuffs down and stepped closer, her camisole brushing my bare arm like a whisper. The room was quiet now--no more rustling of costumes or clinking of hangers. Just us, flushed and breathless, standing in the soft glow of early afternoon.

"You ever play dress-up like this with anyone else?" she asked, her voice low, rich, intimate.

I shook my head. "Not like this."

She smiled, like she already knew. Her fingers reached for my waist, tracing the edge of the sheer robe still barely hanging on me. She tugged the fabric loose, slow, watching it slip from my skin. Then her hands were on me--confident, exploring, warm with a pressure that was more claiming than curious.

"You always feel this warm?" she murmured, pressing her cheek to mine.

"Only with you."

She kissed me then. Soft at first, tasting, testing, her lips brushing mine like she wasn't sure if she was allowed. I answered by leaning in, opening to her, letting her know I'd been waiting--maybe longer than I even realized.

The kiss deepened.

Her hands slid up my back, into my hair, while mine traced the hem of her camisole, lifting it inch by inch. Her skin was silk under my fingertips, goosebumps blooming everywhere I touched. She gasped when I finally pulled the fabric over her head, baring her to me. Her nipples were flushed and tight, begging for attention, and when I took one between my lips, her knees nearly gave out.

We tumbled to the bed, giggling and tangled, lips never far apart, our bodies discovering a rhythm older than both of us.

Barbara was bolder than I expected--her mouth everywhere, teasing, worshipping. She kissed down my stomach, slow and deliberate, pausing to look up at me with those stormy eyes before going lower. When her tongue finally found me, I nearly came apart at the first touch.

She took her time.

Exploring. Drawing out every sound I tried to hold back. She seemed to savor the way I trembled, the way my hips bucked toward her without permission. I fisted the sheets, moaning her name like a secret I was finally allowed to say out loud.

And when I pulled her up and returned the favor--when I kissed and licked and tasted the slick heat between her thighs--Barbara didn't hold back. She arched and moaned and begged, fingers digging into my shoulders, legs trembling around me. Her body sang under my tongue, and when she finally came, it was with a cry that sounded like freedom.

Afterward, we lay tangled together, sticky and spent, glitter clinging to our skin.

"I told you," she whispered, tracing lazy circles on my thigh. "Joy comes in many forms."

I smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "We should plan kids' parties more often."

We lay there in the hush, the silence not awkward but full--like a room still echoing with music long after the song has stopped.

Barbara's fingers traced the curve of my hip, lazy and aimless, but her gaze held something sharper, more searching. I looked back at her and felt a slow ache that wasn't just pleasure, or satisfaction, or lust. It was something heavier. Warmer. Riskier.

She smiled, but her eyes were softer now. "I forgot how much I missed this... not just the play, but being close to someone who sees me." She bit her lip, then let out a quiet laugh. "God, that sounds so dramatic."

"It doesn't," I said. I meant it. I felt the same. Seen. Touched in ways that had nothing to do with skin.

We kissed again. This time slower. No hunger, no urgency. Just the warmth of mouths remembering each other. Relearning. Wanting to linger.

But the clock was ticking. We could both feel it.

In the hallway, I heard the sound of Archie's footsteps--retreating, thankfully. He knew better than to interrupt again. The house smelled faintly of toast, and somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered I'd left laundry sitting in the washer and groceries still unpacked on the kitchen counter.

Barbara rolled onto her back with a sigh, her body still glittering faintly in the light. She stretched, catlike, one arm draped across her forehead.

"I have to pick up Ken soon," she said eventually, reluctant. "But tonight..."

"Yes," I said, without needing to ask. "Tonight."

"All four of us?"

I turned to look at her. There was a flicker of nerves in her smile, maybe even hope.

"Yes. All four."

We got up slowly, helping each other brush off feathers and sequins, wiping away smudged lipstick and fixing tangled hair. It was like shedding the fantasy, but not quite stepping back into reality. Something lingered--on our skin, in our glances, in the way we touched just a little more than necessary.

She found her camisole again, pulled it over her head, then paused at the doorway. I came up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck.

"We'll clean the rest later," I murmured.

She chuckled. "We always do."

And then she was gone, barefoot as she'd arrived.

I stood in the quiet, naked in the middle of my half-destroyed bedroom, and for the first time in a long while, the mess felt beautiful. Like something blooming. Like anticipation.

Tonight, I'd play host again. But not to a kids' party. To something much more dangerous--and much more delicious.

In the evening we were all four gathered at our place. The kids had gone to bed unusually early.

Archie stretched, a smirk playing on his lips. "Feels like it's going to be a long night."

Barbara grinned. "Long, but still young."

We traded knowing, amused smiles.

Archie leaned back into the couch. "Let's take it easy. Maybe throw on a movie?"

Ken gave a casual shrug. "Or we could play some cards."

I smiled. "Why not both? That way we'll stay... engaged. Maybe even a little active."

Barbara tilted her head, mock-curious. "Active how?"

Laughter bubbled up from everyone. Then, without another word, Barbara stood and slipped into my bedroom.

When she returned, she wore my sheer robe -- the one of the Arhie's favorite. It clung to her in all the wrong, delicious ways. A little too snug at the chest. A little too short at the thighs.

She stopped just long enough to catch our attention, then tilted her head with a mock-innocent smile. "Did I do something wrong?" she teased, giving the hem a tiny tug that only made it ride higher. "I just borrowed your robe. It carries... its own little story, doesn't it?"

Archie's breath caught visibly. "That story still has me under a spell."

He stood and quietly disappeared to change. When he returned, he wore silky shorts and a fitted T-shirt. I slipped into the bedroom after him and chose something even more provocative -- my smallest nightgown. Soft as whisper, barely grazing the tops of my thighs. One brush of air, and my breasts stirred beneath it. I found a matching set of Archie's shorts and a T-shirt and brought them out for Ken, holding them out with a private smile that said I see you, too.

Ken took them with a playful bow. "Grateful. But slightly nervous."

When we were all in the living room, Archie turned on the TV. A movie started, but Ken raised a brow. "Too slow. How about something with a little more... energy?"

We flipped through the channels, but nothing hit the mark -- until we stumbled upon an old pop channel. The moment the opening beat hit, the room seemed to exhale rhythm.

I stood, stretched with exaggerated ease, and pulled Barbara up with me. "Come on. You can't listen to this and stay seated."

The music filled the room -- bright, pulsing, irresistible. We started moving in sync with the dancers onscreen, our bodies teasing the beat, our nightgowns fluttering with every sway and spin. The fabric lifted, catching the light and the eyes of both men.

Barbara twirled with a light laugh and beckoned to them. "Come on, gentlemen. This isn't a show. It's an invitation."

Archie hesitated -- just a second -- then gave in. Ken followed, more confident, the beat already guiding his steps. When Archie stumbled playfully into Barbara, Ken caught her from behind, his hands landing naturally on her waist.

"Careful," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.

Barbara didn't move away. Instead, she reached down his sides, guiding him with flirtatious precision. "Just follow my lead." She turned then, took Archie's hands, and placed them on her hips. "You too. Loosen up. Pretend we're filming a music video for adults."

I stepped behind Ken and let my body press lightly against his back. He tensed -- then relaxed as my fingers grazed his hip, sliding just enough to feel the growing heat between us.

When I turned him gently to face me, I let my hand brush casually along the outline of his arousal. He looked into my eyes, lips parted, saying nothing -- but everything.

The air grew thick with anticipation, laughter giving way to silent heat.

Breathless from dancing, Barbara licked her lips and ran her hands through her hair. "Alright," she said, still catching her breath, "before we all combust... drinks and cards. Let's move to the big bed -- more comfortable for a proper game."

I met her gaze, my pulse quickening. "Cards... and comfort? Sounds perfect."

Archie raised an eyebrow. "Just cards?"

Barbara gave a slow smile as she turned toward the bedroom. "We'll see who plays fair."

Archie carried a tray into the bedroom with orange juice, grapes, and a bottle of wine. He had only brought two glasses.

I poured some orange juice, took a sip, and passed the glass to Barbara. She smirked and said, "Good to see you enjoy sharing juices."

Her words carried a double meaning, sending a small thrill through me. I met her gaze and replied, "Well, juices are meant to be shared among friends."

Ken caught on immediately, his eyes glinting with amusement. I wasn't sure if Archie understood, but his excitement was obvious.

Barbara turned to him, still playing along. "What do you think, Archie? About sharing juices among friends?"

Archie grinned. "Always my pleasure to keep friends happy."

I still wasn't sure if he caught the innuendo, but the spark in his eyes told me he was definitely enjoying the moment.

Ken pulled out a deck of cards. The backs featured two beautiful women locked in an embrace. We exchanged knowing looks and smiled.

I had never had sex with a woman in front of a third party before, but something about the image and our husband's gaze gave me an unexpected thrill.

We started playing, forming teams based on the cards. Barbara and I were paired together, but luck wasn't on our side -- we lost the first three rounds.

Ken leaned back and smirked. "You two keep losing. You know what that means... time to pay up."

Barbara turned to me. "Right, Linda? What do you think?"

I shrugged, feeling the energy between us shifting. "Whatever makes it fun."

The next round, the boys lost. Barbara and I exchanged a glance.

"Now it's your turn to pay," I said.

Archie grinned. "We've got nothing to offer."

Barbara arched a brow. "You have your t-shirts and shorts, don't you?"

Without hesitation, they pulled off their shirts and tossed them to us.

Barbara's gaze lingered on Archie as she held his shirt, then she looked at me. I smiled, silently telling her it was okay.

I shifted closer to Ken, letting my arm brush against his as he dealt the next hand. He caught on quickly, deliberately letting his fingers linger on my skin. Barbara saw this and did the same with Archie, casually brushing her hand over his lap as she picked up her cards.

Archie tensed for a moment, a small shiver running through him. I smirked, and when he glanced at me, I made sure he had a perfect view of my neckline.

We lost the round.

"We're not losing anything," I teased. "This is still the bare minimum."

Then Ken and Archie lost the next round.

They exchanged looks. "This isn't happening," Archie said. "We need to change the wagers."

Barbara leaned in. "And what do you suggest?"

I tilted my head. "How about this? The winning team gets to give the losing team a challenge -- or... the losers have to keep stripping."

Archie dealt the next round, and this time, he was bolder. As he passed Barbara's cards, his hand deliberately brushed over her chest. Barbara, unfazed, caught his wrist and squeezed his hand between her breasts for just a second longer than necessary.

Ken and I noticed.

Smiling, I picked up my cards while my free hand gently ran over Ken's growing cock. I glanced at Barbara, who caught my look and grinned.

We lost.

Barbara exhaled dramatically. "Well, I guess that means we lose our nightgowns."

Barbara, ever the temptress, took her time peeling off the sheer robe. Her fingers traced slowly along the fabric, pausing. She brought the cloth to her lips and gave the darker spot a slow, deliberate lick. "Mmm," she murmured, eyes sparkling. "Juice tastes good."

Ken leaned back against the headboard, amused and aroused. "Why just taste?" he said smoothly. "You could drink, if you like."

Archie, mesmerized, couldn't take his eyes off her. I noticed it. So did Ken.

I stepped toward Archie, my gown falling in a graceful slip, revealing everything. I reached for him, drawing his face to my breast, guiding him lower.

He followed like a devoted worshipper, lips closing around my nipple, his tongue swirling in lazy, hungry circles -- right there in front of our companions.

Ken, ever ahead of the curve, was already moving. Without waiting, he eased me down onto the bed, positioning me so that my head rested on Archie's lap. My legs fell open willingly, offering Ken everything. He slid down, placing himself between my thighs like a man on a mission, burying his face into the soft folds of pussy.

Barbara, watching this, drew closer to Archie, her bare skin now brushing his.

With both hands, I reached for Barbara's full breasts, pushing one gently at a time toward Archie's mouth. He accepted them eagerly, devouring each like a starved man.

At the same time, my hand traveled downward, brushing against Barbara's pussy. She gasped and leaned closer, allowing the touch. I reached for Archie's hand and brought it to join mine, guiding us both together -- four fingers, then six -- into the slick velvet between her thighs.

Barbara shivered, her head lowering to me. I pulled her into a kiss, then brought her lips to my other breast. She began to suckle, softly at first, then more urgently, while Archie stayed between us -- kneading, thrusting, entering.

Ken's tongue worked like a blade of fire and silk. Long, precise strokes, deep exploration, no inch of me left untouched. He drank every drop, every twitch, every tremor.

Barbara, overwhelmed, couldn't hold out long. Her breathing grew ragged. She gasped, then gently pushed me and Archie back, her body trembling. She stood, then positioned herself above me -- her soaked entrance now directly over my lips -- and bent forward, her eyes fixed on Ken's head moving rhythmically between my thighs.

I licked her gently, slowly, savoring her, while reaching for Archie with one hand. He seemed left out -- eyes wide, cock throbbing, craving.

I guided him to lie beside me. "There," I whispered. "Now she can taste you too."

As Barbara bent lower, her lips brushed the tip of Archie's cock -- and then she took it in, slow and deep, her hips still rocking above my mouth.

Archie working his magic of hands on Barbara and Barbara devouring the cock's head slowly brought the juices to flow into Barbara all over my face. Soon Archie's cock released a stream of cum that covered Barbara's face, chest and arms.

Barbara increased her motion over my mouth and the sperm came down over my face, she turned and lay on her back.

Ken had lot of juices from my pussy and Barbara pulled him up. She started to devour my juices from Ken's face and mouth. Once she was done, she pulled me to her gently and kissed me deeply thus sharing my own juice and Archie's sperm mixed. She then asked Ken, Archie and me to devour all the juice from her face and hand.

Ken did it fast, I did it slowly and Archie did it by enjoying it.

Barbara then made Ken lie down on the back.

Ken said, he needs to get some energy boost and asked Archie if there is any beer or any soda, in the freeze.

I said, "Yes, we have some mango juice".

Archie said, "He will get it".

Archie put on his shorts, and went to the kitchen and brought the bottle of Mango juice and he gave it to Ken. Ken opened the bottle and drank from it, Barbara who was still lying on the bed and has moved into the center of bed, asked Ken to give her a sip or two.

Ken slowly poured the juice into Barbara's mouth and she gulped it. Ken was pouring more some got spilled on her lovely boobs.

Barbara looked at me and said, "Linda, don't you want a real mango?" and gently lifted my head to her chest, which was covered in mango juice.

I got the idea and carefully got comfortable, slowly starting to massage her breasts, and when I leaned over, Barbara very gently started to massage my breasts.

Barbara asked Ken to come closer to her on the other side and took his hands and handed over my boobs to him and asked him to slowly caress them, so she can see how the nipples are getting all juicy and hard.

Archie who has been watching Barbara's boobs being devoured by me and Ken busy with my lovely boobs, He moved closer to Barbara's legs and began to run his fingers along her graceful tanned thighs to her pussy, covered with light silky hairs.

Barbara slowly moved her thighs apart to give more access to Archie, while she was doing that, she also started to put her long nailed fingers, into the pussy of mine and I reacted by spreading my creamy thighs little apart.

As Barbara moved her fingers, Ken immediately followed and inserted his thick fingers into the pussy. The long nails and thick fingers created a nice variation as they went in an out of the tunnel. Archie has been busy digging the pussy with both his hands, one hand trying to get the nipple all juiced up and creating a nice symphony of slurping noises.

As I felt juices dripping from my pussy, I decided to do something that I have not done so far. I asked Archie, "Archie, which pussy you would prefer for his cock? Ken you get your chance to decide in next round."

Before Archie could answer, Barbara said, "I think Ken has all sight on the creamy side, so I can see what Archie has been doing to you."

However, I had a different idea. So, I suddenly got up and moved Ken and Barbara's hands from the entrance of my pussy.

I rolled across the bed, over Barbara's warm, yielding body, toward the edge where Ken sat watching. Without hesitation, I slipped off the side and onto the floor, where Archie stood barefoot, still wearing his shorts -- but not for long. His cock pressed against the fabric, impatient, straining.

Still basking in the thrill of bare skin and bold eyes upon me, I knelt before him, my hands gliding up his thighs. With delicate fingers, I slowly peeled down the silken waistband, unveiling him like a gift I knew well -- but never tired of unwrapping. His cock sprang free, flushed and proud, the head glistening with a perfect drop.

My lips parted, rosy and warm, and I brushed a kiss just beneath the crown. Then another. And another, trailing soft warmth before I closed my lips around the head, letting that pearl roll gently onto my tongue.

I looked up -- and saw them. Barbara and Ken, still in place, eyes wide, breath held. We had all seen things, done things. But tonight... tonight was something different.

Later, Barbara would whisper that it had been a vision to die for.

Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I curled one hand and beckoned Ken closer. He hesitated for only a heartbeat before stepping beside Archie, his cock already half-hard from watching. With the same teasing grace, I reached up and traced my fingers along his shaft, letting the contrast between them -- Ken and Archie -- spark another fire inside me.

"Come here, Barbara," I said, voice low and thick with hunger. "Come share."

She didn't even wait for the end of the sentence. She slid from the bed, naked and eager, kneeling beside me. I leaned in, parting my lips just enough to show her the glistening pearl I still held on my tongue.

With a wicked grin, she leaned forward and licked it off -- slow and sultry, her eyes locked on mine.

"Delicious," she whispered.

"Yours," I whispered back, and guided her gently toward Ken.

She obeyed, her tongue flicking across the tip of his cock, gathering his own early offering. Then, turning back to me with heat in her gaze, she kissed me deeply, sharing his taste the way I had shared Archie's.

I moaned into her mouth, savoring the blend, losing myself in it.

"As if there's no tomorrow," she breathed.

"There's only tonight," I said.

I wasn't done with Archie -- not yet. The passion inside me felt unspooled, humming through my limbs like fire under my skin. I turned to Barbara and gently pulled her toward the bed.

"Come," I whispered, coaxing her beside me.

I lay back, spine sinking into the sheets, legs slightly parted, and guided Barbara to straddle my chest with her back to me. I wanted the full view -- her gorgeous pussy hovering just above my lips, dewy and inviting, so close I could feel the heat radiating off her.

"Just like that," I breathed, and gently pushed her down until her mouth found my breast, her lips enclosing around a stiff nipple. She bit down softly, teasing me. I moaned, arching beneath her.

The pleasure surged and I needed more. "Ken," I called, voice husky. "Come closer."

He stepped forward obediently, his cock already hard, standing proud above my face. I reached up with both hands, guiding him to me, and welcomed him between my lips, the tip slipping into the warm, eager gate of my mouth.

Barbara giggled, her breath against my skin. "Hi, Archie," she called over her shoulder, her voice playful and thick with arousal. "What are you waiting for? Look at this creamy forest and the tunnel -- it's calling for a brave explorer. Bring your cock over here and push in deep. I want to see it move... feel it."

Archie didn't need more convincing.

He came up behind Barbara, his hands gripping her hips, and with one smooth motion, he sank into her. She gasped, her voice muffled against my breast as he began to thrust -- slow at first, then harder, deeper.

Ken stood above me, cock sliding in and out of my mouth with a gentle rhythm, and with each of Archie's thrusts, Barbara's hips rocked forward, her folds pressing against my lips. I licked and sucked wherever I could -- her, Archie, the delicious mess they made together.

Ken's breathing became ragged. His hands found Barbara's curves as he tried to steady himself, but it was too much.

He groaned. "Fuck, Linda -- Barbara -- I'm close."

Moments later, his cock twitched inside my mouth, and then I felt it -- a sudden, hot flood spilling across my tongue, dripping down my chin. I let it run freely, licking what I could.

Barbara cried out, lifting her head. "I think Ken just delivered the cum -- for all of us."

Archie groaned above her, the tension in his muscles coiling.

"Your turn, Archie," Barbara murmured, grinding back into him. "I want to feel it. See it. Taste it."

With a final thrust, Archie let go, moaning as he spilled deep inside her. Barbara gasped, then quickly pulled him free, turning to face the now-slick cock. It twitched again, and the last hot spurts painted her lips and chin, streaking down over her beautiful breasts.

"Mmm," she hummed, running her fingers through it and licking them clean. "Just what I needed."

Archie's warm release had painted Barbara's breasts in thick, glistening streaks, pearly trails gleaming on her skin. Some of it had landed on the wild tangle of my own crotch, still damp from earlier pleasures. Meanwhile, Ken's cum had flowed generously, cascading down my cheeks and dripping slowly along the curve of my throat -- a messy, delicious river down my body.

Barbara let out a sultry laugh and called to Ken, her voice teasing. "Ken, baby... come over here and look at this snow-covered landscape," she said, cupping her breasts proudly. "High hills topped with sperm. Doesn't it look irresistible?"

I caught on immediately, licking my lips. "Archie," I called, turning toward him with a playful smirk, "come take a look at Barbara's beautiful sperm-topped nipples. Don't you think they deserve some attention?"

Ken and Archie moved around the bed, eyes gleaming, excitement thick in the air. As they reached the edge of the mattress, their hands brushed -- a brief, electric touch -- and they exchanged a quick grin, like two boys stumbling upon a secret treasure.

Ken leaned down toward Barbara, who welcomed him with a heated kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, deep and hungry, sharing the taste of Archie's lingering essence that still clung to her lips. The kiss grew wilder, messier, until sperm smeared across both their faces.

Breaking the kiss, Barbara held his face in both hands and whispered, "You know what I want next, don't you?"

Ken's breath hitched, and Barbara guided him downward, her hands in his hair as she pulled him between her legs. "Go on, love," she purred, voice thick with arousal. "Lick it all up. Every last drop."

Ken didn't hesitate. He dove in, his mouth finding her soaked entrance, his tongue hungry for the creamy mix of juices. Barbara arched her back with a moan, her fingers tightening in his hair.

Archie knelt beside me, his cock half-hard and twitching. I reached out and stroked him slowly, my thumb gliding over the sensitive tip.

"They're so perfect together," I murmured, watching Ken's head move between Barbara's thighs.

Archie chuckled. "You mean all four of us."

"Mm-hmm," I grinned. "But we're just getting started."

When Ken stepped close, I tilted my face up toward him and murmured, "Take this cream off me, will you?"

He began gently wiping my face with soft, deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on mine.

Barbara watched, her gaze fixed not on my face but on my chest. Her hands moved without hesitation, cupping my breasts, fingers spreading, pressing in with firm reverence.

"Mmm," she whispered, almost to herself, "these are too lovely not to touch."

As Ken finished, I turned toward Archie and gave him a long, hungry kiss. His tongue plunged deep into my mouth, and I welcomed it eagerly, playing with it, tasting it, teasing it -- until I slowly let it go, licking my lips as I pulled back.

Then I smiled and said, low and wicked, "Barbara's rear hole is glistening. Someone needs to clean up those juices. Quickly. Archie, your cock should do just fine."

Archie let out a breath, eyes darkening. He moved behind Barbara and eased himself in, grunting as he penetrated slowly.

I felt him shift forward, his cock brushing over my lips with each thrust into Barbara. I opened my mouth, letting it slide over my tongue, giving it a wet, warm welcome with every motion.

"That's it," I whispered between licks. "Let me help you wake it up."

His cock thickened with each pass.

I glanced sideways. Barbara was now tending to Ken, her lips around his penis, her hand stroking gently.

Then, with her usual elegance, she released Ken and turned. With a subtle gesture, she guided Archie away and whispered to him, "Come here. Stand next to Ken."

Archie moved as instructed, breath ragged.

Barbara then lay down beside me, her skin warm and soft against mine.

Ken remained standing, trapped between Barbara's creamy thighs.

As Archie approached, Barbara slid slightly, her legs parting just enough to welcome him in again.

This time, she captured him between her own warm, firm thighs.

The moment was close. I could feel it -- my body trembling, thrilled at the thought of being torn by another cock. My breath hitched as I glanced at Archie. He was already poised behind Barbara, his hands gripping her hips, a hungry smile playing on his lips.

Ken stood just behind me, watching us both. His gaze locked onto Barbara's, silently asking permission.

Barbara gave a slow nod. "Well?" she purred, looking back at Archie. "What are you waiting for, love? My rear hole's ready... and waiting." Her smile then shifted toward me, wicked and warm.

I reached out, touching Archie's shoulder, encouraging him. "Go on. Fill her." Then I looked at Ken. "And you -- don't waste another second."

Ken needed no more invitation. He slid inside me, and Archie sank into Barbara's rear, both of us gasping as our bodies opened to them.

"Archie -- bend a little," I whispered, breathless. As he leaned in, I guided one of his hands to my breast and the other to Barbara's. Ken, watching, mirrored him. In no time, their arms crossed, their hands exploring both sets of breasts, kneading and stroking in sync.

Barbara turned her face toward me, her breath hot and shallow. I leaned in, our tongues flicking before we locked in a messy, heated kiss, our mouths moving with the same rhythm as the cocks inside us.

The pace built -- thrusts deeper, harder, faster.

Suddenly, Barbara gasped and pulled away. "Archie -- lie down," she ordered.

Without hesitation, he did. Barbara straddled him, taking his cock inside her with a smooth, practiced slide. Her breasts bounced wildly with each motion, inches from Ken's face. He stared, captivated.

"They're your wife's," I whispered to him. "Take them."

And he did -- both hands full of her flesh, squeezing, caressing. I moved alongside Archie, still impaled by Ken, aligning our bodies so Archie had a perfect view of my bouncing boobs. His eyes locked onto me, drinking me in as Ken pumped behind.

Ken grunted -- his rhythm faltering. Then I felt it: the warm surge inside me. I squeezed around him, smiling as he moaned into my neck.

At the same time, I caught the twitch in Archie's hips, Barbara gasping above him. His release filled her rear, and her entire body shuddered in pleasure.

But Barbara wasn't done.

She pulled off Archie with a wet sound and turned to Ken. "Your turn," she said firmly. She made him lie flat, then straddled his face, her thighs trembling. Archie's cum dripped freely from her rear onto Ken's eager mouth.

Then she turned to me. "Come here. Help me clean him."

I obeyed, crawling to them. She grabbed my face and brought me close to Ken's slick skin. I gathered the mixture of juices on my fingers, and she licked them clean with slow, deliberate strokes, her eyes locked on mine.

Then she lay back, spreading herself wide.

"Your turn, darling," she said. "Drip all your sperm onto Mommy's mouth."

I climbed over her obediently, positioning myself so my rear was just above her lips. I relaxed. She moaned in delight as my release dripped onto her tongue.

Barbara was the queen of this game -- and we all played for her pleasure.

The room was quiet now, heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, warm bodies tangled together on tousled sheets. The earlier frenzy had softened into slow breaths and lingering touches, as if none of us wanted to break the fragile stillness that had settled over us.

Barbara curled beside me, her cheek resting on my shoulder, fingers tracing lazy circles over my belly. Her breath was steady, her presence grounding. Across from us, Ken lay with one arm draped over Archie's chest, the two men chest to chest, silent but close, their eyes occasionally meeting with something unspoken and deeply understood.

I reached for Archie's hand and pulled it gently to my heart, guiding his palm over the steady rhythm there. His eyes softened as he looked at me, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips.

"You okay?" he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded. "More than okay." I leaned in and kissed him softly -- not out of hunger, but gratitude. A kiss that said we're still here, no matter how wild things got.

Barbara stirred beside me, and I turned to her. Her eyes were half-lidded, her skin glowing, her voice dreamy. "I didn't think I could ever feel this full," she murmured. "Not just my body... but something else. Like I've been opened wider than I thought I could be."

I kissed her temple and held her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "That's how I felt the first time, too."

Ken reached for Barbara's hand and squeezed it. "It's more than just pleasure, isn't it?" he said, almost to himself. "It's like we've been cracked open -- and we're still here, still holding each other."

We lay there like that -- quiet, safe, real -- a tangle of limbs and emotion. No games, no teasing, just breath, warmth, and skin.

"I think," Archie whispered after a long pause, "this was exactly what we needed."

I met his gaze, my voice low and certain. "It was. And we're not lost. We're just... finding each other again. All of us."

Barbara hummed in agreement. "And I don't want to go back to before. I want to stay here. With you all."

Fingers intertwined. Legs brushed. A new silence wrapped around us -- not heavy this time, but sacred. The storm had passed. Now, in the stillness, something tender began to bloom.

When we finished, all four of us took a shower and went to sleep, each in the own house. It was 4 a. m.

***

Once we began making love in the same room, the rest unfolded like a dream we'd all had before but never spoken aloud.

The first photograph was almost an accident -- Barbara, glowing in candlelight, turned to the lens and said softly, "I want to remember how we looked tonight."

No one argued.

Archie picked up the camera with reverence, as if it were some sacred instrument. Ken adjusted a pillow beneath me, murmuring, "Hold still. You look like a goddess about to be worshipped."

That night became many nights. Pictures turned into sequences. Sequences into stories. We captured ourselves in ways we didn't even recognize.

Within weeks, we stopped retreating to separate rooms. There was only one space now -- fluid, borderless, alive. The bedroom became a stage. A sanctuary. Sometimes a ritual site.

Two months in, we were swinging freely, inventing games drawn from dreams we hadn't known we shared. We whispered suggestions in the dark, and the room seemed to respond -- soft lights blooming where no one had placed candles, shadows folding into new positions before we moved.

Contests became frequent, almost ceremonial.

"Tonight," Barbara declared once, stepping barefoot onto the middle of the rug, wearing nothing but her pendant, "we divide into couples. First woman to bring her partner to climax wins. Losers..." -- she paused, smiling wickedly -- "get tied up and used by the winners. Gently, of course."

Archie laughed, but there was reverence in it. "And if no one wins?"

"Then the room decides," I said, though I had no idea what that meant. And yet we all nodded like we understood.

Sometimes it wasn't even clear who was touching whom. Bodies blended. Names were whispered and echoed back in voices that weren't ours.

I remember Ken once gasping, "Whose hand is that?" and no one answered, because by then, we weren't keeping track.

There were nights when the mirrors fogged from within, when the photographs showed things that hadn't happened yet, and mornings when we woke up wrapped in combinations we didn't remember falling asleep in.

It wasn't just desire. It was... the Game. And once the Game began, we stopped pretending it had rules at all.