Plus One

Plus One

I

"Congratulations! You two make a great couple!"

Those were the first words I heard from my husband's ex, but they weren't the words that took me down a rabbit hole. Marissa was a plus one for our wedding. She came with a cousin of mine. I didn't have any jealousy or resentment about her being my (now!) husband's ex, although she was a pretty woman -- dark hair, soft brown eyes, creamy brown skin. Her perfume was intriguing. I couldn't place it but wanted to ask her what it was. But that would be more conversation than I wanted to have with her.

Cory, my new husband of just over an hour, had never talked about her in length and didn't seem to react when he learned she was here. His actual words were, "Wow. Weird. Small world." But Cory could be hard to read sometimes.

No, the words from Marissa that took me on this journey started with these, "I'm glad he found somebody who could match his needs."

I smiled and nodded, but there was something in the way she looked into her Champagne flute before downing it that made me wonder if there was more behind her words. I mean, I didn't think of Cory as a needy person and the needs he had were typical of a man, in my experience. We were barely outside 30 years old. I felt like we'd had our wild time and were ready to settle down and start the journey my girlfriends had been on while Cory and I had focused on our careers.

There were others at the reception I needed to greet. I didn't have time for conversations and I'd only spoken to Marissa out of an impulse -- a kind of primal need to let the ex see my happiness. Petty, but, like I say, Mjust an impulse. I was going to smile down at her, be pretty and happy, and move on. But the look she gave before downing her champagne. The little toast at the end. I bit the hook.

"His needs?"

She cocked her head in a little double-take.

"Oh, you know, Erin." She leaned in. "The whole bedroom thing." She waved her glass in a little circle. She glanced around the room. Just then, her eyebrows lifted as she saw my cousin walking up. Before he arrived and put his arm around her, she whispered to me, "Lucky you," smiled, then faded back to sip her Champagne, while my cousin hugged me and gave his congrats.

The whole bedroom thing. Like, what did that mean? Sex? He had no weakness in the bedroom, if that's what she meant. We had great sex. He was an attentive lover who never failed to get me off. I'd had my share of one-pump chumps and men afraid to go down on me. Selfish guys, cocky guys who hadn't earned their confidence. And I'd had meek men who wanted me to coddle and mother them. Cory was none of that. He wasn't kinky, and that's fine. I'd done my share of scenes with multiple partners of all sexes and felt like I'd gotten that out of my system. It was fun, sure, but what I had in Cory was a stable, caring partner who put my pleasure first in the best ways possible.

It was my wedding reception, but I carried those words around in the back of my mind for the rest of the evening. The whole bedroom thing. I wanted to find her and interrogate further, but the reception pulled me in too many directions. I chalked it up to her wanting to get under my skin. She was there first. So, I tried to let it go. I needed to be present to all my guests. I had toasts, bouquets, garters, and chats. And when I finally reconnected with Cory and we had our first dance, and I looked into his loving eyes, I finally let the words dissolve in my happiness.

He said, "Babe, you are stunning tonight." He pulled me in his strong arms, kissed me and whispered, "My dream girl." This was my man.

The nice thing about our wedding is that the night didn't have to end. Ours was a destination wedding in Hawaii. Our guests had a full week that started a couple of days ago with dinner parties and preparations. We had several more days in the hotel before we had to go back to our more humble (and colder) homes. We got to have our wedding and honeymoon all-in-one and our guests got to play in paradise. For now, we had balmy evening breezes, sunny walks on the beach, and far more alcohol than we were used to. I would be lucky to fit into my wedding dress by the end of the week, despite restraining myself these past couple of days to stay in it.

The wine was going to my head by the end of the night. I was so ready to be fucked. We'd made the stupid decision to take a little break from sex before the wedding, as if either of needed the time off to be ready to go. But we told ourselves waiting would make the wedding night more intense. I don't know if he was going crazy, but I was used to fucking a lot. And the more the party and people pulled us apart, the hornier I got. We'd done the ceremony, we'd had the party, now we needed to do the deed. I was giving bedroom eyes to Cory every chance I got. Biting the lip, which he loved. Whispering in his ear. Brushing my hand down his back, sliding it down his strong glutes.

He was restrained and maybe a little bashful in front of everyone, but he let his hands roam too, and when he finally grabbed my ass once during a slow dance, the room cheered and urged us on. After that broke the ice, he was more handsy, which only made my condition worse. Finally, as the crowd surrounded us and we became a little less the center of attention, the words in my head came tumbling out of my mouth.

"Maybe we should slip off to our room for a little quickie."

He immediately walked away without a word. I stood looking at the empty space, my face burning with rejection.

I turned to catch him already near the exit. He nodded his head toward the door and I laughed. My man didn't need to be told twice. I put up one finger as he exited and then I found my way to another exit so as not to arouse suspicion.

I met him in our room, and he was already nude. He kissed me at the door, unafraid of being caught. He kissed me hungrily, and I melted into it. Me in my full wedding dress and he fully erect and attempting to pull up my train that was dragging on the doorjamb.

"Easy boy," I said, pushing him slightly. He stopped instantly. He looked at me expectantly. I said, "Let me get inside the room before you get inside me."

He smirked and licked his bottom lip.

Fuck me, I thought. Please.

I spun around and let him begin work on my buttons as I tugged the rest of my train into the room, letting the door close and the room drop into darkness. I lifted my hair up to give him access to the hooks there, and Cory took the moment to kiss my neck. Shivers. If I was wet before, I was soaked now. I felt those flutters in my pussy.

As the dress opened down my bare back, I dropped my arms and let my blond curls bounce on my back. I let the dress slip off my shoulders and down and I brought my arms up to my naked chest and turned slowly around. I held my hands over my breasts demurely, as if he hadn't worshipped them many times. But tonight our bodies belonged to each other in a new way. I knew the effect I would have on Cory. I wanted to be a blond Venus stepping out of the shell of my dress pooling at my feet. My pale silk stockings held up by garters. My vee hidden behind a tiny lace thong that barely covered my tender lips. Wearing something so scant felt like they were about to fall off -- a feeling I found tantalizing.

That's where Cory's eyes paused as he sighed. I let one hand drop to my sex and I ran a finger down the cleft beneath. "Does Mr. Johnson see something he likes?"

Cory looked up at me and laughed.

I said, "I mean... Oh, hell." I put my hand over my mouth. I'd never said those words before and Cory Johnson, with his erect johnson stepped into me and kissed me through my blush.

"Mr. Johnson loves what he sees," he said in a low growl.

He pressed me up against the door and I tugged the strap of my thong down, letting the little patch of lace drop, exposing my pussy to his hands. He reached down to feel and immediately two of his fingers slid into me as I gasped. I could smell the aroma of my own heat.

"Fuck me, please," I whispered.

We didn't need foreplay. The weeks leading into the moment were constant foreplay. I just needed his cock in me. The pageantry could wait. I grabbed his cock and pulled him toward my need. He lifted me up as I guided him there. I slid his circumcised crown back and forth against my hungry opening. I slid my thumb over it, slick already with desire, and pushed him into place. He practically carried me through the door with his lust as I felt him sink completely inside me.

"Fu-u-u-" I groaned. Then I held his shoulders for leverage as he became lost in his lust. I kissed his hair as he kissed my shoulder.

"I can't..." he panted. "I can't stop."

"Don't," I murmured.

He grunted and cried out as he lifted my legs up on tiptoe with his effort to fill me. I felt his contractions inside me as he came. I'd never heard him grunt and moan so openly. He was normally so quiet. It turned me on to see him so out of control for once. I hadn't come, but this felt special -- animalistic. As he relaxed and my heels touched the floor again, I could look up into his eyes. He searched mine. His face was red, and he seemed vulnerable. I stroked his cheek and kissed him.

I whispered to him, "You are so fucking hot when you let go."

He moaned and kissed me back.

I was afire myself, being so close to my first orgasm in weeks. But I knew he would need a little recovery.

"We'll be missed," I said.

He shook his head. "You haven't come yet."

"No, but we need to get back," I said.

He dropped to his knees. "Not like this," he said. "You'll spoil your stockings." He eased my thong the rest of the way down my legs.

Puzzled, I looked at him. He was intently staring at my pussy. It was clear he was ready to help me come, but he'd never eaten me after sex before. I felt those flutters again. Would he?

The look in his eyes was new. It was his intensity that encouraged me to be bolder than I normally was in intimate moments with him. And maybe now that we were married, we could open up a little more.

My voice trembling, I gave him an out, "I... wouldn't mind if people saw it dripping down my legs. They'd be jealous." I let my fingers trace the pearl forming at my opening. I slid my fingers down my thighs, encouraging the flood.

He moaned.

"I'm a fucking mess, Cory."

He licked his lips, but he seemed rapt by what I was doing. He was leaning in. I could feel his breath over my shining labia.

"Are you sure you want this?" I said.

He locked eyes with me. The pure focus on his face was something I hadn't seen before. I felt my pussy contract, squeezing more of his spunk out of me. Never breaking eye contact, he pressed his mouth against my pussy and, using the flat of his tongue, loudly sucked his cum from me.

I came.

My legs quivered, and I just came. Loudly. That only encouraged him. He kept sucking and licking and nipping his lips on my clit. I could barely stand after a few minutes. Finally, after I was afraid the hotel phone was going to ring with a complaint, I pushed Cory back.

His face was amazing. His eyes were glazed with lust, and his face was shining too as he licked his bottom lip. Then he blinked a moment and quickly turned away. He went to the ensuite bath and stood by the sink.

"Wait," I called.

I followed him in there as he grabbed a washcloth and started soaking it under the faucet.

"Are you OK?" I said as I leaned against him. "That was... amazing."

He looked at me. Deep concern in his eyes.

"You're not... disgusted?"

"No, babe. No. You were fucking hot."

I turned his face to mine and, before he could wipe the mess off, I kissed his messy cheek. I could taste his honey and mine. Fuck, his cum was sweet. I missed it. I licked his face clean. As I did, I said, "I've never come so fast, baby."

Relief relaxed his face, and he returned my kisses.

Finally, we pressed our foreheads together and turned to the mirror to look at ourselves.

"Mr. Johnson is so sexy," I said.

"Mrs. Johnson is a goddess," he said.

We took a beat and then I took the cloth from his hand and dabbed his face. "We'd better freshen up or people will have a lot more to talk about than our absence."

He smiled and let me clean his skin. I shook my head as I took in this new Cory who had never done such a thing before. A catch of breath and flutter of desire renewed in me as he stood stock still, letting me clean him up. There was something about his stillness that I found erotic. He was not trying to do anything. He was just receiving this tenderness, completely exposed to me. I saw him erect again and sighed.

"No time for that," I said as I turned to the mirror. "I'll need to touch up and change."

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he walked back to the room.

Then the words Marissa said flashed back to me, "The whole bedroom thing." And a little flare of jealousy roiled in me. What had Marissa done with my man? And why hadn't he told me about it?

II

Cory was back at the reception before I was. Despite his best efforts, his come was still soaking my thong. I had pulled out another pair, but I changed my mind. I first thought about wearing nothing, but decided I wanted to feel him soaking through. That sense of being naughty amid the celebrations tantalized me. Fortunately, I had my reception dress at hand anyway, and I used that excuse for my absence.

It was thrilling to have people compliment me on how good I looked, knowing that I'd just been fucked and eaten by my new husband and was still wearing the evidence. They didn't know that the rose in my cheeks was because of his magic tongue. Could they sense the slight metallic aroma in the air that would give our game away? Maybe. One of my girlfriends told me I was "glowing" and winked at me.

As the party continued, I found myself distracted. I watched for Marissa. I chided myself for being fixated. The past is the past, right? My body count was not low when I met Cory. I knew his number was smaller, but I chalked that up to things being easier for a woman who was not ashamed of sex. Plus, he never gave me any hint of jealousy. Quite the opposite, really. He didn't mind hearing about my experiences and I felt like full disclosure, especially in the run-up to the wedding, was important.

Which is why I felt piqued. I mean, maybe I should have been more curious. I didn't ask for as many details from him and now I realized he had been deflecting. Marissa clearly found something unique in Cory's sexual appetites and thought there was only one way that he would settle down with me. She must think I fulfilled them. And honestly, I felt a little robbed of the chance. I wanted to be his everything and, if he was hiding some desire, I wanted to give him that.

One time, as I was dancing with Cory, I accidentally caught Marissa's eye as I was searching for her. She smiled and raised her eyebrows at Cory. She mouthed the words again, "Lucky you."

I had to find out. But I was damned if I was going to ask her.

I leaned into Cory's neck, and I murmured. "Marissa said something interesting." I felt his body tense at the mention of her name. I said in my sexiest tone, "You've been holding out on me."

He stopped dancing. He stepped back. I couldn't tell if it was panic or shame. He looked down rather than at me.

"I... I'm sorry," he said. "I... uh." He looked at me and I thought his eyes were tearing up. Before I could say anything, he turned and headed off the dance floor. He walked past a couple of guys wanting to pat him on the back and went straight to the bar.

I looked again at where Marissa was. She saw the whole thing. She cocked her head and shook it slightly. There was a trace of a smile there.

A moment of panic swelled up in me. What had I done? This was our magic night and I let my curiosity turn to jealousy, and I had just thrown that in Cory's face with no warning.

Still, it was too soon to seek him out and I couldn't go to her, even though I felt certain she knew I knew she held a secret over me. I gave Cory space and watched as he worked through his emotions. It was easy because at a wedding everyone is clamoring for your attention. My bridesmaids were around me most of the time, although as the night went on, they began lining up their own prospects (most of them were single and some were merely free.) Still, I tracked Cory as the party carried him along and out of his shock.

Finally, I saw him step out on the lanai for a breather. I followed him there, sat down next to him on the chaise, as we both stared at the dark ocean, and held my hand out to him. He took it and I felt a moment of healing.

I said, "You don't have to tell me anything."

He squeezed my hand.

"What... what did she tell you?"

"Nothing, Cory. She just hinted."

He nodded and said, "Yeah, sounds like her. She has a way of getting under your skin."

Now I nodded. I could see the attraction. "I'm sorry I took her bait."

We let the waves of the ocean fill the silence between us and finally he said, "I want to tell you. But I'm afraid you'll see me differently."

"I know you, Cory." I leaned my head against his shoulder and intertwined my hand with his. "Nothing you can tell me will make me forget that. You have nothing to be ashamed of with me."

We stayed connected for the rest of the reception. Even though many people were pulling us apart to give us advice or encouragement, we kept close. And when we weren't able to touch, we kept an eye on each other, making sure that the other saw our reassurances.

When our older relatives slipped off to bed and left the party for younger folks, we drank and danced a little more freely. Many had changed into cooler clothes to enjoy the ocean breeze coming in from the beach. Occasionally, Cory and I would retreat to the patio or the even the beach for a little breather.

I had gone out on the lanai to wait for Cory when I realized Marissa was there already. She was so petite that I couldn't see her on the chaise until I was on top of her. She sipped a cocktail with her eyes closed, just listening to the waves. She now had on a yellow bodycon dress that barely covered her top and bottom. The moonlight glinted off her creamy skin, and I forgot for a moment that I hated her.

That wasn't true. I hated her secret hanging between Cory and me. I hated that there was some need there that Cory found so powerful he seemed content to avoid forever if it hadn't been hinted at tonight.

Did I have a secret like that? Perhaps. Maybe I'd left out a detail or two in my retelling. Maybe I didn't want my future husband to think his wife was once capable of being so slutty. No man wants to hear about another's hard abs or other harder, thicker things.

Marissa opened her eyes and caught me staring. She smiled and gestured to the lounge next to hers. She said, "I'm sorry if I stirred things up. I really didn't mean to."

"It's OK." I said, surprised by her apology. But I added, "Cory has no secrets from me."

She cocked her head, but let her protest drop. My bravado did not fool her. More fuel for my internal fire.

She said, "It's his story to tell, and I broke a trust. It was an honest mistake. But I apologize."

"Thank you." I wanted to say more, but felt disarmed in the moment.

"I think I've been a little jealous," she said. "Cory and my time together was special and I miss it. Occasionally. Don't worry, I'm not looking to rekindle. But we broke up because I wasn't ready to commit to him in the way he needed. And today I was just..." She turned to me kindly. "I was just glad to think someone did."

"I want to."

"It's OK. Clearly, he's changed, or he's worked it out. Maybe it was just a unique time for him. College, right?" She touched my arm, let it linger. "You are gorgeous. Poised and sexy and... a great dancer. The full package. What more could he want?"

I blushed. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I felt almost like she was coming on to me. But that didn't make any sense. The flattery worked though. And it confirmed she had been watching me too from across the reception. Did she come out to the lanai knowing that this was a spot I gravitated to?

I held my tongue. She must know that I was aching for the answers. But I couldn't resist wanting something from her. She let the silence stand between us until I had to break it with my most burning question.

"Will I like it?"

She sighed, "Oh, honey." She turned to her side, facing me, not caring that her hem pulled up to expose a little patch between her legs. In the moonlight, I couldn't tell if it was her lightly trimmed pubic mound or a lacy black thong. "You will amaze yourself with how much you love it."

She planted her feet on the patio. I heard the crunch of the wayward beach sand that had drifted here. I caught a light scent of her perfume -- what was it? She steadied herself and then bent over me like a Madonna and kissed my forehead. I caught a hint of her sweat in the air between us. I couldn't speak.

She said, "I wish I could be there to watch you." She walked away, tugging down her hemline to cover the bottom curve of her ass. In the air's swirl of her wake, I could smell a light almond aroma. She turned and smiled at me as she pulled the neckline up closer to her neck. I could see the outline of her nipples and the bar studs piercing them.

"Caught you looking," she said.

She did. As the damp of her kiss evaporated, I realized was actually wet in other ways. I told myself it was all the talk of secrets and hidden kinks. It was the excitement of the evening and the anticipation of the night's end. It was the quick, furious fuck earlier; but it was also the way he stared at my leaking pussy, the way he dove into it hungrily, the way he stood still while I cleaned him. It was him calling me, "Ma'am." Also, it was the soft brown of her skin and the light hazel of her sparkling eyes. And no, she did not have on a lacy thong. As she stood, I caught the flash of pink before she covered herself. Did she wait just long enough for me to see?

And the tease of, "I wish I could be there to watch you." She painted the picture in my head. I could imagine her sitting by our bed while Cory and I made love. I pictured her with the top and bottom of her dress gathered at her waist while she rubbed that little flash of pink beneath the patch of brown. Fuck, did I tell Cory about the girls in college? Any of them?

"Whatcha thinking?" It was Cory's voice behind me. Startled and a little ashamed, as if he could see what I was imagining after Marissa walked away from me, accentuating the sway of her round ass.

I turned to him. He bent over to kiss me and I pulled him down. I turned the peck into a meal. I was so fucking heated right now. He leaned into the kiss. Maybe he felt the forgiveness in it. Did the kiss tell him I was horny enough to let the secret go? The past didn't matter. I needed him now, as he was. Mine and always. Still, I pictured his eyes looking up at me, his mouth poised over my pussy, dripping with his own cum -- his lips wet with hunger.

"I need you," I said.

"Soon, my love."

"Let's say our good-nights."

"Yes, ma'am."

Fuck. That word. It made me dizzy.

"No fair, boy. I'd take you right here if I could."

He stopped and looked at me for a moment, as if considering it. Do it, I thought. Take me right fucking here on the patio by the beach with all our friends standing just feet away. I'm so fucking ready.

He reached out his hand, and I took it, but we walked back to the dining room.

III

We lasted not much longer at the reception. And the remaining guests didn't mind letting us go. They were ready to close their own deals. We could compare groggy notes tomorrow over brunch.

When Cory and I crossed the threshold of our suite this time, we were more somber. The secret lay between us and we had avoided it too long. Still, Cory wasn't quite ready. As the door closed, he kissed me. I kissed him back, but when his hands slid down to cup my breasts, I sensed he was leading us back to the familiar lovemaking. He hoped to put off the confession. Maybe long enough to make me forget it, or at least put it out of my mind, but it was too big now.

I put my hand on his chest. He paused. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes were down.

I said, "I need you to tell me."

"I... I can't."

I was losing patience. Plus, there was something in his bowed head and the stillness of his body I found erotic. He looked both defeated and ready to leap -- a strange mix of predator and prey. He was ravenous but untamed, held back only by the soft pressure of my hand on his chest. I controlled his hunger with a single gesture. I realized my heart was beating with his.

I wasn't having any more of his diversion. I had to rip the bandage off. In a firm tone I reserved only for my staff who needed correction, I said, "Then show me. Now."

He looked me in the eye, and something changed in his expression. He became expectant, open, and calm. His mouth opened slightly. I could hear his breathing quicken.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, dropping his eyes.

He slowly lowered himself until he was on his hands and knees. He leaned over and kissed the tip of my shoe.

"May I?" he said.

"Yes." I didn't know what he intended. I only knew he needed permission. Did he have a foot or shoe fetish? That'd feel strange, but not insurmountable. We don't know why we crave the things we do.

He gently unbuckled each of my sling backs and carefully removed them. His tenderness and the way he stroked my feet as he did so felt reverential. But I sensed he was working up his courage. He kissed the tops of both feet. I felt like a queen before her vassal.

He said, quietly, "I was wrong to keep a secret from you." He looked up at me. His expression was pitiful. He struggled to speak and then he said it. "My pitiful cock doesn't deserve your pussy."

If he had said it any other time, any other way, I would have laughed. First, he had a beautiful cock that I loved and that satisfied me perfectly. Second, in his daily life, he was an assertive man, a leader, admired by his colleagues. If anyone deserved this pussy, he did. And it loved his cock. But his vulnerability in that moment, that he trusted me with something that clearly he felt shame about. The courage that he showed in that moment weakened my knees. Not only did I not laugh, I felt a connection with him. I felt desire for him. Regardless of where this might lead next, I needed to let him know he was safe with me. If I rejected this attempt, I would not get another chance.

I leaned into it, saying, "Then what does your pathetic cock deserve?"

"Punishment, ma'am. Denial."

Thank you, I thought. OK. This is a start. I said, "Let's see it, then. Stand and strip."

Trembling, he pressed himself up. I tried not to look impressed with his strength. He stood and slowly undressed himself for me. I walked around him as he did so. When his shirt came off, I stroked his shoulders. I squeezed his biceps appraisingly. When his pants came down, I stood behind him and lightly spanked his ass. He flinched, but I heard the sharp intake of breath. This was working for him.

And it was working for me. I'd only played a little with BDSM before. His clear desire to please me, this powerful man held back only by my word, was intoxicating in iteself. I liked the power, but still I also liked to be powerless too. Could I be dominant all the time? That might be hard to sustain, but most men didn't need their kinks full time -- at least in my experience. Or worse, they compartmentalized it, saved it for one seemingly safe or at least anonymous person. To find out more, I needed to take his ego out of the picture. Get him out of his body and into his need.

I stopped in front of him. He wore only his boxer briefs now. His erection was stretching the limits of the fabric. A damp circle outlined the crown of his cock. Reflexively, he brought his hands up to cover the expanding stain.

"No. Hands by your side," I said. "Your cock looks obscene. It's drooling like a puppy. How badly does it want to come?"

"It's... so close."

"I can see that. It wants me to look at it. It wants me to see this shameful display. What else does it need?"

"It needs you, ma'am. It wants to earn the right to be inside you."

Punishment. Reward. Still, I wanted the reward myself. Earlier tonight, I would have immediately bobbed my face on that thick, sticky thing. I would have jerked that cock until it came all over my face. That's the reward I enjoyed. Were there other rewards for me, though?

I said, "But it doesn't deserve this pussy now, does it?" I lightly stroked my dress over the spot of his desire.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I kept a secret from you."

There it is. I waited long enough for him to bring it back to the personal. I said, "That's right. I deserve the truth more than you deserve this pussy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Tell me the secret."

He hesitated. "I... need to be..."

"No, that's not the secret, boy." I found my frustration rising. I knew now he needed humiliation. That's not uncommon. It wasn't the shame he was hiding. If I didn't get the truth out now, we could go on for years playing games -- fun games but also something short of what he was hiding, just as he hid this desire for our whole relationship. If our marriage was going to work, I needed it all out now. And the secret that truly irked me was more specific.

"What did you do with Marissa?" I said.

His face went pale. I hoped I didn't push too hard. But his reaction told me I was on the right track.

He muttered, "She... She, you know, dominated me."

"No, Cory. It was more than that. I could have spanked you, tied you up, and even pegged you. All you had to do was suggest it. You know I denied you nothing in the bedroom."

"Y-yes."

"So, with Marissa, it was more. A deeper humiliation."

He looked shook. More than vulnerable now, he looked a little scared. I was getting closer. Maybe I was opening Pandora's Box, but wasn't hope left inside? I needed to break through his walls.

"Shall we go ask her?"

"No!"

I waited. I held still. I stared him down. I felt so much power in not speaking. The lust rose in me. It wasn't enough for me to dominate and control him. I needed to equal her. I wanted to break the hold she had on my man. I needed to know what they did, not because I wanted the truth, but because I wanted to best her. It's how I operated in business. I'm a competitive person. Watching him struggle to say the words, knowing that he wasn't just confessing. He wasn't merely telling an erotic tale; he was giving me the keys.

"She used me," he said.

"How?"

"With her partners." His voice trailed off on the last word.

"OK," I said. I tried to be open and relaxed now. I was getting to the meat, so to speak. "In what ways?"

"I was her toy. She brought her girlfriends over to tease me and make me beg."

"And her men? There were men too, right?"

He nodded. "I watched while they fucked her. I... cleaned up after."

I shook. "With your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Like earlier?"

"Yes."

My head spun. This was a lot to take in. The man I'd been making passionate love with for the past couple of years had hidden this experience from me. Clearly, it was not gone. He had told me embarrassing stories before. This still had charge for him. He hadn't "worked it out of his system."

I felt sad too; he was OK to live without it because he loved me. He was happy now, but how long would this desire stay suppressed? In what year of our marriage would he finally have the courage to admit this craving or else live forever in the shadow of it?

Then I noticed something else happening. I was imagining it. In my mind, I saw his face between Marissa's thighs sticky with another man's cum. I saw my man bent over a bed with his face in another woman's lap while Marissa pegged him from behind. These were just flashes, but I couldn't help seeing them. And I felt the heat of them.

I said, "Why?"

"Why what, ma'am?"

"Why have you denied me this pleasure?"

"Erin--"

"Don't deny. Do you still fantasize about it?"

"It's just a fant--"

I put up a finger, stopping him. "Do you jerk off thinking about it?"

He stood still. I began circling him.

"Say it."

"Yes."

"Picturing her?"

"No, Erin. You. I picture you."

"Fucking others, while you watch?" But I knew he lied.

He nodded. I slapped his ass. He said, "Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you." I stood behind him now. I leaned close to his ear. "Honesty has rewards." I stroked his ass and pulled his underwear down to his ankles. I stood and pressed close to him as I came around his side and stood face to face. His cock pressed against my stomach through my dress. I put my arms around his neck. I looked him in the eye and said, "Do you think I have fantasies?"

"Of course."

"You thought it would disgust me to have a man suck cum from my pussy?"

"N-no."

"Did I get off on you cleaning me up today?"

"No, ma'am."

I leaned into his ear and whispered, "Then why have you denied me all this time? When I could have had you clean... me... up... every... time."

He shook. I heard him whimper. I felt the pressure of his cock against my stomach. Then I felt the liquid soak through my dress, sticking it to my skin.

I looked him in the eye. "Did you come?"

"I--"

I thrilled at bringing him off with just whispered teases. Still, I had a role to play here, didn't I? "Did I give you permission?"

"N-no, ma'am."

I shook my head. "It turns me on, you know. You shaking like this. You being unable to control your pathetic cock."

He shivered at that phrase. Ding. Ding.

I drew little circles on his chest with my long, manicured nails and said, "I don't know how far I can or will take this. I don't know how far you can go. But I want to find out."

I turned around. "Unzip me." He did. I let the dress fall. I turned around. With one finger, I wiped the wet smear on my belly and I brought it to my mouth. I licked it clean.

"When he misbehaves, he doesn't earn the cream."

"Fuck... Erin."

"I prefer ma'am." I added, "When we're like this." I squinted my eyes for emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am."

I picked up my dress from the floor. I held up the soaked fabric for him to see. It was thick with globs of his spunk. I pushed the fabric into my mouth and sucked it while maintaining eye contact. He had a pained look that told me so much.

I let the dress fall and swallowed what was in my mouth. I stepped forward and kissed him. I let his tongue try to find any trace in my mouth. We kissed deeply for several moments before I pulled away.

I wondered how far this went. I said, "I love cum, too, Cory. But now that I know you yearn for it, I don't want to compete for a taste. So, tell me, when you jerk off, do you eat your cum?"

He looked sheepish.

"It's the truth from now on, or we stop here," I said.

"Yes."

This was new. "Every time?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I shook my head, but inside I felt the quiver. I imagined my masculine husband jerking his cock over his hand as he pictured me getting railed by some stud. Imagining him coming into his hand, and licking it up, was giving me the flutters. But also, what excited me was his honesty. There's nothing hotter than the truth.

But I wanted to play too. I said, "Not anymore. You don't jerk off, Cory. We play all your fantasies out together. If you want to eat cum, you'll beg me for it." Then another wicked thought came to me. "I control your cock completely."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're getting hard again. This is what you want, isn't it?"

"I... do."

"Those magic words a second time today." I shivered this time. "But you know what? I do... too."

IV

The next morning, we almost overslept brunch. I woke to him spooning me from behind, which felt normal and reassuring considering the night's revelations and post-revelation activity. We were man and wife -- partners -- but now we had our own secret. I didn't know everything, but I had a start. We had much to work through, but the feeling of Cory's morning wood against my ass was all I could think of at the moment. I squirmed back against him until he returned the pressure.

"Fuck me," I said softly.

"Yes, ma'am." His enthusiasm hadn't waned in the light of day.

I still enjoyed being called ma'am. There was a bit of throwback to the title that felt right for me in the bedroom. No one at work called me ma'am, despite me being the boss. It seemed aging too, at work. At the office, we were too casual, too modern for titles. I was the leader of my business, but it was small enough to be family.

I raised my leg enough to let him slide his cock between my thighs. With one hand, I guided him in, cupping my hand over his slick crown, feeling his cock against my fingers tugging as he pivoted in and out of me. He couldn't sink all the way in, but the short back and forth inside the ring of my opening was one of my favorite sensations.

I said, "Can you make me come with just this and your words?"

He groaned.

"Can you?"

"I'll try."

"Not good enough, boy. You've got to make me come this way, or you won't earn your treat."

"Fuck, Erin..."

"Who?" I pulled away from him, letting his cock almost slide out of me.

"Ma'am. Sorry."

"Better." I tilted my hips back. Dirty talk was the way through his boundaries. It went right through his ego and into his lust. That's how it worked for me, at least.

I said, "Yes, that's the way. In and out. Just this. Just this bit. But if you can make me come before you do. If you can turn me on without touching my clit or any other part of me? If I come from your words and this little stub of your cock rubbing just an inch or two inside me? Well, then I'll let you come too."

"Oh, fuck."

"But you can't come before. You can't come from your own words even. I have to come first and you have to wait. But waiting gives you dessert before brunch."

"Oh, fuck. Yes, ma'am please."

"I want to see you lit by the morning light as you clean the pussy you just fucked. My sweet, married pussy full of cum."

"Fuck..." He held still for a moment.

"Oh, you're not going to make it are you?" I relished the thought of his failure and what I could make of it.

"No. No, please. I'll be good."

He began again, albeit a little more slowly, which, to be honest, worked better for me. Thick and slick as the crown and foreskin worked those first inches inside me, where all the nerve endings were. Not quite deep enough for the g-spot but occasionally touching it -- a little spark randomly flashing. Fuck, even if he came early, this felt good.

I said, "Now, tell me. I want your eager breath in my ear telling me all the things you want to do for me. Tell me the things you did for Marissa. But make them for me. Only me."

It took him a moment to work up his courage. But his need to come again -- the need to keep his cock inside me long enough to pump his seed into me -- all that was giving him the incentive. Also, being behind me, not having to look me in the eye, likely eased the tension for him.

He began, "I... would be your plaything..."

"Keep going, boy."

His breath came low on that word. He liked the minimization. He said, "I would wait for you when you came home from... a date. I would greet you on my knees with my hands behind my back. I would struggle to find your panties with my mouth. I can already catch the scent of your excitement. Just walking to the door knowing I was on the other side, stripped and waiting, edging myself until you came through the door. My cock dripping for you. I've been catching the drips in a silk cloth. It is soaked and waiting for your permission. I don't taste myself unless I've earned it."

"Mm." Yeah, this was working. Had he done that for her? Did he wait for Marissa to come into his apartment, or did he wait in hers? Did he spend his free time cleaning her place? Maybe in a tight thong. Did he tuck the cloth inside to sop up his excitement? Did that keep it from getting dry? All ready to show her. This is proof of my devotion, this cloth soaked in pre-cum. Let me put it in my mouth and suck it clean. But only if you wish it. Would I make him wear it all week? How nasty would that be to see him insert that sweaty cum-soaked, crusty silk handkerchief into his mouth? How delicious to see him savor it for me to watch. I moaned at the image of his cheeks sucking in and out, his throat contracting as his saliva cleaned the cloth. Swallow. Yes.

Wait, did he say she came home from a date?! My moans encouraged him. He couldn't know what I was seeing, but he knew I was soaking his cock. He could probably feel my juices on my thigh.

He said, "I pull your underwear down with my teeth. I bring them down to your feet, which I kiss as I lift them up to release you. I look up and you nod, giving me permission to press your underwear against my face. I inhale and I moan and I long for the next step."

"Put them in your fucking mouth," I moan.

"Yes, ma'am. Fuck, they taste good. You taste so good. But I want your pussy. I need your pussy. I can tell you want my tongue. You've been thinking about it, haven't you? Making me eat you?"

"Yes. Fuck, I need it. But..."

"Yes, ma'am,"

"Take my panties out of your mouth."

"Yes."

"Show me the other."

"The silk?"

"Yes. Is it wet?"

"I've been edging all day. Every time you texted me. You've been at me all evening, texting, 'Now.' 'Now.' 'Now.' Fuck, I'm on fire because I need to come so much. I show it to you. It's so soaked, it's shiny."

"Good... Mm. Good boy."

He paused his thrusts again. Noted.

"You like being a good boy for me?" I said.

"Y-yes ma'am."

"Suck it then. Show me. Show me how much your little cock drools for me."

"Fuck. Fuck."

"That's right, your cock feels so small in me right now. Can't you get deeper? Can't you fuck your wife any deeper?"

"Oh, geez. Please, hold on. Hold on." He had to breathe for a moment.

I was quiet for a moment. His cock felt so impossibly thick inside me. The torment of it right there, wanting to thrust back onto him, wanting him to lose all control and slam that cock into me and make me scream. I felt like a dirty fucking slut that just wanted to be pounded into the bed. He had me so close.

"How does your cum-rag taste?" I said.

He sighed. He began tentatively sliding again. In and out. Impossibly slower. He said, "It takes so good. I love sucking my cum for you. I wish. I wish I could suck my own cock for you." It came tumbling out, and it shocked me a bit, but then I pictured him with his feet over his head and his own cock right there above his mouth, pumping it with his hand, tongue out, waiting. I don't think he intended to say this much, but he couldn't help it, which made my heart race.

I needed to know. "Did you? For her?"

Silence. A quiver in his stroking.

He said. "Would you push my hips up over my face? Make me stare at my cock dripping down on my face?"

Damn. That sounded fun. And nasty. Had Marissa made him cum on his own face? Add that to the list.

I said, "You can reach it? With your mouth."

"Uh..."

Maybe this was too far. "Are you scared to tell me?"

"Is it... too much?"

"Oh, Cory. We're married now. I want all of you. Can't you tell how much this is turning me on? I'm so fucking hot for you right now. Don't hold back."

"I could... reach it... when I was younger and more flexible."

"And did you make yourself come?"

He groaned.

I said, "Did you swallow?"

"That's how I learned to love it." No hesitation this time.

"Fuck. Fuck. I want to see you give yourself a facial."

"Yes, yes, I'd do it for you."

"Not yet. You haven't even earned your treat yet. Tell me more. Take that cloth out of your mouth. Show me how clean it is. Tell me you need more."

He grunted. "She... You push me on my back. You pull up your skirt. You straddle my face. You lower yourself until you're... just millimeters away. I can feel the humidity against my lips. I want to thrust my tongue into you, but I don't move unless you tell me to. 'Just breathe,' you tell me. 'This pussy is your world. It owns you. It's all you think about.' You say, 'Stick out your tongue,' and you slide your cunt across it. You just brush your lips against my tongue and you shiver."

I was panting now. He'd never said cunt before. I felt so nasty. I could feel myself there above his face. I pictured him below me. I imagined the strength it took not to collapse on his face and ride it. I needed to come. I needed it so badly.

He said, "I want to drink you. I taste just this part of you and I want it to last forever. You say, 'Did I get fucked today?'"

I groaned. She did that? Marissa did that with him? She fucked men and brought home the evidence? She literally rubbed it in his face. My breath was coming faster now.

He said, "You slide down. You know I can taste it. You know I know."

I nodded. I was getting close. Could he hold out? Please hold on a little longer. I'm so close. So close.

He said, "Did you?"

I froze. My heart was pounding. My mouth watered. My face felt heated with desire and shame. This was his test now. Would I go that far? In my heat, I thought, yes. Fuck yes.

"Did you?" he said again urgently.

"Yes. You know I did. You can... you can... fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You can taste him." I cried out. I thrust back against him. I felt his cock push deep as far as he could reach. I screamed as the orgasm spread through me. I bent to give more to him. "Come for me. Come. Please, come!"

He moaned and growled and I felt him pulsing inside me, squeezing all that pent-up cum deep in my pussy where it belonged, where it would wait for him to drink. He'd earned his reward. It was the best orgasm with him ever. And it happened as I imagined bringing home another man's cum. Fuck. Was I slutty enough for that? Did he really need that?

But Marissa would be there at brunch. She would watch the expressions on our faces. She had done it. She had given him that; I was certain. This was his shame -- being brought low by his own lust for her. He had to reclaim her, even if it meant eating another man's spunk. Could I let her have that over me? Could I forget the little flash of pink I'd seen as she got up from the lounge? Could I stop imagining her getting fucked last night? Would she have it in her still at brunch? Would Cory sense it? Would my husband want it?

I quivered as I realized I wanted it.

V

We arrived late for brunch, but as the wedding couple, it surprised no one and they had already started eating. We gave the sheepish looks of honeymooners that enjoyed their wedding night, but knew they'd drop their jaws (and drawers) if they knew what we had been up to.

They weren't aware that between last night and this morning, I had my husband give me head until I counted out four orgasms. I actually do not know how many times he made me come. I just kept calling out numbers while he ate me. I only wanted to exhaust his tongue while I imagined Marissa dominating him, while I thought about doing so, too.

But the details he provided this morning were now spinning in my thoughts. I felt like running back upstairs and fucking him again. But he needed a respite, and we both should refuel.

I was still leaking cum, but Cory had more in his stomach than I did in my pussy. I gave him the reward he had earned. I made him beg for it, of course. It excited me to hear him say the words repeatedly. "Please, ma'am. May I eat my cum?" Seeing the bliss on his face as he licked me clean was intoxicating. There's something about seeing your man completely powerless before you, just an aching need.

Last night I discovered more than just my husband's secret kink, I saw another sexier Cory. Before we got married, he was quiet and focused. He was communicative, but mainly about my pleasure. I took it for granted that he was satisfied. But the Cory I saw last night made me realize up to then he had been performing in a way, giving up his primal needs to satisfy mine. I mean, he performed marvelously. And he clearly enjoyed the sex we had when we were dating. But hearing his soft moans as he tasted more of himself, his groans as I told him how pathetic it was that he couldn't resist his own mess, made me want to bring out more of that side of him.

And the cum shining on his face in the morning light looked so dirty. I made him hold still in the light while I masturbated until I came again, staring at his sticky face. I was a satisfied bride for sure; but I also felt a little ungrounded. There was so much to process, and lust solely had guided me all night.

As I looked at Cory, I saw him anew. He was more relaxed and open. He looked literally lighter. He ate hungrily. He chatted easily. I didn't see a pathetic submissive worm. I saw a man confident in his skin. Even though last night he literally prostrated himself before me, this morning he was free.

I scanned the room and caught Marissa's eye. As my cousin's plus one, she was at a table further back, but it was directly across from us. Marissa and I faced each other across the room. She had a soft smirk that told me she knew. Not from the satisfaction on my face. No, she recognized my husband's change because she had once authored it. She saw that where last night Cory was tight and controlled, now he was open and relaxed. She knew the weight of the secret was gone from him. She lifted her mimosa up to me.

Damn, bitch. You don't know me.

But, of course, she did. I tried not to react, yet I felt the blush on my face. With my pale skin, it was like a neon sign flashing. Despite all my confidence in shifting Cory's need to me, Marissa knew I was chasing her. She was in my head. I didn't know if I could live up to the standard she set. She was his first owner. She would always be his model. The only way to displace her was to exceed her.

And yet, staring at her, she was so confident and easily sexy. I couldn't help but compare myself to her. She was my complement in so many ways. Her soft brown hair bounced and moved like she did -- sexy and smooth. I was dishwater blond and my curls didn't last the night. She was petite and curvy. I was tall and sporty. Her skin was light brown and glistening. Mine was pale and dull in the harsh light of day. True, I landed Cory. He was my husband, but only because she declined him first. Her quiet smile, her kind tone, her confident stance screamed across the room to me, "All I need to do is crook my finger."

Marissa reminded me of a girl I dated briefly in college who had that pocket rocket energy. She loved to dance, and she liked her a tall woman. She was the first person to make me come from oral sex, and the first girl I went down on. She taught me what she liked and helped me explore what gave me pleasure. She eventually transferred schools for a better shot on a gymnastics team.

I had fucked women occasionally, but she had made a mark on me that few could match. I told myself it was a phase. I liked dick. Maybe I liked both, but dick was easier in so many ways -- more predictable, if not reliable. And then Cory came into my life and that, I told myself, was the end of my experiments.

Still, as I ate my brunch, I saw Cory was looking at me, not Marissa. I never caught him sneaking a glance her way. He didn't seek her out in the room. During this whole vacation, I never caught him standing with her 'catching up.' It was as if she didn't exist when I was with him. He gave me no reason to be jealous or insecure.

And that's what bugged me. Was he being too careful? Was he actively avoiding any moment with her because he respected me, or because he was afraid of her -- of the power she had over him?

I could not look away from her. I kept glancing away and back. My food didn't interest me. I lost track of conversations. Each time I looked her way, she met my gaze. As the bride, attention often was on me. No one would think it out-of-place if they caught Marissa watching the bride and groom. But she focused on me, not Cory. Just as he never looked at her. She never looked at him.

That's when I realized she didn't intend to seduce my husband. She didn't need to. She had been seducing me. She had planted the seed. She had given me the rope to bind myself to my husband's kinks. It was no accident that she'd found me on the lanai last night or even that she flashed me as she stumbled to leave. She was a predator, and I was prey.

And it was making me wet. I felt my hand drop to my lap reflexively. I had to move it to my knee and squeeze because I ached to touch myself. The way she looked at me, I felt she was daring me to respond, to show her how my satisfaction was entirely because of her. She had once trained my husband. Last night she had given me his reins, but the entire time, she'd been holding mine.

I felt exposed. I turned to Cory and touched his arm; I kissed him. He returned it, but I held him there. I let my hunger out on him. But as I kissed him, I could smell my aroma on his face. We had skipped showering because we were so late for brunch. I let my tongue slip outside his lips and taste the traces of my desire around his mouth. I resisted continuing down his chin and cheeks. The table laughed and cheered as I clearly looked hot and bothered by my husband the morning after our wedding. I appeared eager to get him back to our room and fuck again.

When I broke the kiss, I looked down, avoiding the eyes of the wedding guests, but mainly Marissa. But as soon as I glanced at her, I saw her lick her lips and cross her legs. She sipped her mimosa and batted her long eyelashes. She flicked her eyes down toward my thighs and my heart pounded. My hand had slid up my thigh. My index finger had absently traced circles there -- a little too close. I sunk my fingers into my thigh to stop them moving. I slowly inched my hand back to my knee, hoping no one had seen me practically masturbate right here under the table. I focused on my brunch, forcing myself to eat. Energy, I thought. I need fuel for strength.

After brunch, we opened wedding gifts. That helped take my mind away from the petite elephant in the room until we got to my cousin's gift. Marissa sat next to him, having moved up together as their gift came up. She squeezed in next to Tiffany, my maid of honor, who smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she slid in. I guess they had connected during the week. I opened the lovely blue box and held up a glistening string of diamonds.

My cousin said, "It's a choker."

I nodded and smiled, overwhelmed really. It was gorgeous and likely expensive.

"Put it on," Marissa said. She had a husk to her voice, like smoke over a fireplace grate.

"Here," I said, handing it to Cory while I pulled up my hair from my neck and lowered my head. He wrapped his hands around and brought the cool diamonds to my throat. As he fumbled with the catch, I looked up at Marissa, who was cool and detached. I felt the flush in my face. She shifted in her seat just slightly and my eyes were drawn to the hem of her skirt for just a flicker. I snapped back to her eyes as I realized I'd once again seen a flash of pink before she pulled the hem down just a little. Then I saw something that made me quiver. She took a deep breath. I saw her nostrils flare. Was she breathing me in? Could she smell the aroma of our lovemaking?

As Cory finally finished with the necklace, he laughed and said, "But what about me?"

Marissa said, "If your wife is happy, you're happy." They were the first words she had spoken to him.

I touched the choker. It was snug against my neck and quickly warming.

"It's lovely," I said to my cousin. "Thank you."

My cousin said, "Marissa thought it suited you."

I stroked it and looked at her, my first opportunity to naturally relax into her gaze. "It... it's perfect, Marissa, thank you."

"Glad you like it," she said. "I hope you'll think of us fondly when you wear it."

I nodded nervously. She said 'us' but that was cover. She wanted me to think of her when I wore it, to think of her hold on me. It was a collar as much as a choker. It was a metaphor for my marriage bed now. She would always be a part of it. She was telling me I would never escape the leash attached to this collar. The flush in my cheeks made me feel that everyone in the room could see it, too. They could see the erotic tension between Marissa and me, but logically, I knew it was all in my head where Marissa had just moved in.

In that moment, even Cory seemed to miss the symbolism. He was high from our adventures of the night. He was unburdened, and his focus stayed on me.

We moved on to the remaining gifts and Marissa slipped away at some point, which I didn't notice until I caught myself missing her.

The plan for the afternoon was to separate the boys and girls. The men were to go on a boat tour, a kind of pretend fishing expedition. The women had planned a hike in the rainforest to visit a waterfall. I think the idea was to give the men and women a reason to be excited to meet back up later. I didn't need to build more sexual tension, though.

In our room, as we changed for the events, I pushed Cory down to the bed and we made out feverishly. I told him I needed him and that we had better uses for the afternoon.

"Whatever you say, ma'am," he said as I rubbed his cock through his shorts.

But then pounding came on the door. My bridesmaids, my besties, wanted in.

"Stop what you're doing, right now!" Tiffany said in low voice imitating security. "Do not defile this woman!"

I groaned and went to the door and opened it a crack. Tiffany stood close and peeked around, trying to see if we were truly naked and fucking. I think she got a little eyefull of the tent in my husband's shorts because I caught a flicker of her eyebrows. She widened her eyes and said to me. "Having fun?"

I smiled demurely. "Whatever do you mean?"

She raised her voice to make sure Cory could hear (and anyone else on the floor.) "You can't fuck all the time. We need you too."

Cory stepped behind me and leaned against my back, kissed my neck, and said, "I guess I get to have a little bonding time with the men."

I realized I was still holding the door open only a crack, which suddenly seemed more suspicious. I opened it all the way. Cory shrank back from all the commotion as the rest of my bridesmaids came in too. Along with Marissa.

Seeing the surprise on my face, Tiffany said, "We invited Marissa to join us. She's been a lot of fun. We think you'll love her."

"Of course," I said. "The more the merrier." I shook Marissa's hand and said, "Nice to have you along." She leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek as a greeting, like we were old friends. I stood frozen as I felt her kiss drying on my cheek as she reached up to touch my hand that had shot up to stroke the choker around my neck.

"I'm glad you like this," she said. "But you'll have to take it off for the hike."

I felt the buzz of emotions. I wanted to check on Cory's reaction to Marissa now being literally in our room. But that would be too obvious.

"Here, let me help," Marissa said, spinning me around and sliding her hands up the back of my neck. "Pull up your hair," she said. It wasn't a whisper, but it was soft and close to my ear. I reached up and lifted my hair. As I felt her slide her fingers, taking a little too long to find the clasp, I felt exposed even though all my girls were busy checking out the bridal suite. Tiffany had plopped on the bed, saying something about where the magic happens. Liane and Kylie were looking through the nightstand, joking about what toys they might find. Cory stood still across from me. His face was inscrutable. For a moment, I saw myself as he did -- being touched by his former mistress, bending my head.

"Ugh," Marissa said, "You're so tall. Help me out and kneel."

The look in Cory's eyes was both panic and lust mixed. Or maybe that was all projection. Marissa said it so casually and naturally, but Cory and I both felt the implication deeply. I lowered myself to my knees in front of her, facing him.

"There!" said Marissa. "That's perfect."

It only took a moment, but it felt like an hour -- Marissa's soft touch, her control, her casual command. It had already infected my girlfriends, who had taken her into our circle. I knew she could see the blush on my neck through my pale skin.

"You can get up now," Marissa said as she walked to the nightstand to drape the choker next to my side of the bed. It would wait there for me, open and inviting.

"Geez, Cory! Didn't you get enough of her last night?!" I heard Kylie say. By the time I looked to her and then to my husband, he had already turned around and gone into the bathroom, holding his hands over the crotch of his shorts. All the girls laughed, and Kylie looked at me and raised her eyebrows. "Nice," she mouthed.

They wouldn't act this way in front of Marissa if they knew she was Cory's ex. I could tell them right now and they'd turn on her in a heartbeat. They would circle the wagons around their best friend and cluck at Marissa for imposing. They would wonder how she even wrangled an invite.

But I didn't tell them. I thought about it. I told myself to do it. Make this stop. End this here. Marissa sat on the bed next to Tiffany. "I love your bracelet," she said, stroking Tiffany's wrist. Tiffany smiled and told her where she had got it. All the girls looked at me and I could have broken the spell right there.

I looked at Marissa and said, "What should I wear?"

VI

That's how I found myself in the bathroom with four girls, letting them dress me. Cory had already left, giving me a lingering kiss at the door and telling me he would miss me all afternoon. The only hint of anxiety came as I stepped into the hall after him. He said, "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I can handle this. You have fun."

"You... too," he said, filling the slight pause with all of his fear and reluctance and desire. It told me he understood Marissa's game. "I love you so much," he said, kissing me again.

I said it back and added, "Are you OK?"

He said, "I know what she wants."

I shook my head. "I could kick her out."

He gave a slight smile. "Easier said."

Tiffany and Liane pulled me back into the room, like sirens to the rocks.

In the bathroom mirror, my girls held up outfits in front of me, helping me dress. We were only dressing for a little hike, but I think they felt that buzz of having a Barbie doll again. Marissa sent Liane, Tiffany, and Kylie back to the closet with instructions, leaving Marissa in the bathroom with me. She stood behind me as we both faced the mirror.

"Here," Marissa said, tugging down my shorts, leaving me in my tiny thong. (Could she see the pale yellow stains of Cory's cum?)

Reaching around me, she opened my blouse as the girls raided my closet and suitcases. She wasn't stripping me seductively. It was worse; she undressed me like a child -- perfunctory and clinical. She pulled the blouse off my shoulders and held it just for a moment with my elbows locked by the fabric behind me, my braless breasts pulled up high. I swallowed hard as I realized my nipples were erect and my neck flushed.

"Beautiful," she whispered so quietly I thought I was imagining it.

Then she let the blouse drop and before I could react, she had grabbed the straps of my thong and brought it down swiftly to my ankles. She left it there, binding me again for just a moment.

She shouted to the room, "Bring some fresh panties. Our girl has been active."

There were howls from the room. Someone shouted, "Yes, ma'am!"

She and I looked at each other in the mirror. She had nonchalantly stripped me completely nude. She stood behind me, fully clothed, staring into my eyes in the mirror. The top of her head only came to my bare shoulder. My chest rose and fell and my heart pounded and I felt unable to move as my girls' laughter came from the other room.

Marissa quickly moved to sit on the sink across from me. She appraised me coolly. I saw her the bar piercing through her erect nipples under her top. I saw the slight flaring of her nostrils.

She said softly, "You smell nice, Erin."

I bit my lip as I realized what she meant. I could smell it too -- my heat.

The girls came in with outfits. Tiffany looked slightly shocked to see me already naked as she handed me the underwear. I bent over, stepped into them and pulled them up, letting my fingers smooth them over the crotch just a beat too long, making sure they were covering properly. I took each item of clothing and put them on. But I was dressing for her, for Marissa.

The girls didn't even realize they were seeking her approval. They just took her little head shakes and smiles as the natural order. We were all Marissa's toys, and I was her new doll.

When we finally had her approval, we all tumbled out of the room as intimate friends. Marissa felt completely at home with them. They loved her. Who wouldn't? She was fun, sexy, confident, and super cute. My hot little goddess.

She sat behind me on the van ride to the trail. I sensed her throughout the drive. It was worse than having her next to me. I was self-conscious of my every movement and word, as if she was silently judging me. I could hear her vocalizations -- hums and sighs that seemed to direct my conversation. I know. I know it was all in my head. She had done nothing more than help me dress. She had given me gifts and praised my marriage. I could not say there was anything insidious about her behavior. So, my anxiety was all inside me -- the way I noticed the fine hairs on her brown arm, the little freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, the light gloss of her full lips, the soft curve of her low belly. But also there was the quiet command she held with my girls. This wasn't some alpha mean girl. She was an easy leader, encouraging conversation, asking questions to open us up, giving us praise and compliments. By the end of the drive, we all wanted to be her.

She set the pace on the walk. I held back to watch her ass sway as she practically charged up the slope. I noticed she dressed me like herself. The girls had worn bikinis and cover-ups, not expecting anything more than a casual walk. Their sandaled feet grew muddy in the wet dirt. Marissa and I wore shorts and light blouses in matching cream colors. We wore sneakers that gave us a little edge on the group. After a bit, a pattern established, Marissa and I charged ahead and waited for the girls at a bend in the path. There we would have a few moments of privacy and short conversations.

Our chats were casual at first. She wanted to get to know me. I wanted to know more about her. She learned I played tennis. She was an ice skater, briefly. She liked being outdoors. I had to stay out of the sun most of the time.

"Well, nighttime walks on the beach then," I said.

Where did that come from? I shook my head. She cocked her head at me and said, "Are you asking me out?"

I stammered. "No, I mean. I like those. I don't--"

She cut me off by reaching up and sweeping my hair back over my ear. I shivered at the touch.

I said, "I forget myself."

"Your marriage is fresh," she said. "It's easy to forget all the new rules."

I nodded and said, "I'm so happy."

"Yes, now, you are. Now that you know his heart."

I searched her face, trying to understand what she wanted from us. But the girls caught up, and we moved on.

By the time we got to the base of the falls, the girls were exhausted and spending their time on selfies with all the other tourists. Marissa looked up at the rocks and stepped over the little rock wall.

"What're you doing?" I said.

"I want to see," she said, not looking back.

"But we're supposed to stay over here."

"Suit yourself." The thick trees muffled her voice.

I turned to the group and said, "We'll be right back." But they were too busy recovering and directing their photos to worry about Marissa and me. I climbed over the wall.

It took a few minutes to catch up to her, following the sounds of her moving through the forest. But despite it looking thick, the undergrowth fell away, leaving us with tree trunks, vines, and flowers. It was beautiful and the forest quickly swallowed up everything but the roar of the waterfall that guided us up.

She stood by a tree, waiting. I realized now why we were dressed alike. This was part of her plan, to get us together away from the group. At least, a part of me hoped that was the case.

I stopped in front of her, panting slightly from the effort to catch up with the incline. On the steep rise, she was above me. She couldn't look prettier with the soft light behind her like a halo. I waited without knowing what I was waiting for. Finally, I had to break the silence.

I said, "Well, you called this meeting."

She smirked. "Yeah, thanks for coming. I think you have questions."

So, it was on me, still. The tension of my attraction, my lack of knowledge about the past. She had all the answers, but what was most important for me in these few moments?

I said, "What do you want from us?"

"To be happy, Erin. What do you want?"

You, I thought and shook it away. Because that wasn't completely true. I wanted to be her for Cory. But I also wanted her. I wanted her to kiss me, touch me. I said, "I want to respect my marriage."

"Of course, Erin. I have strict boundaries. I won't do anything without both of your consent."

I felt dizzy. She just burst the bubble of deniability. She wanted something from both of us, something that required our permission.

She said, "You want to kiss me."

I tried to be still, but my head made the smallest quiver, nodding.

"I want you," she said. She closed the gap between us. Her face was close to mine, but slightly higher. "Cory couldn't have found a better partner. You are sexy and powerful, and you have only just begun your journey with him."

My heart beat fast. I wanted to lean up and taste her mouth. I wanted to touch her there under the canopy, take her nipples lightly in my teeth and tug on the bars, let my hands open her shorts and slip inside. My eyes went back and forth between hers, looking for the slightest request to throw away my vows for the moment. I knew Cory would let me. Hadn't he already put the idea of another partner in my head? He wanted me to play the hot wife for him. But did he want Marissa to be one of those partners?

I said, "I want to learn."

Marissa nodded. She stroked my shoulder and squeezed it. "I can guide you both."

My mouth opened slightly. I wanted her there. I wanted her in the room with Cory and me, showing us, showing me how to properly own my man, how to become what Marissa was to him.

Marissa said, "Ask him tonight. Tell him you want this. Tell him you need this. And if he agrees, block the door with the latch at midnight. I will come in. And we will begin."

"Yes," I said.

"However," she said, "Once you let me in, you might never want to let me go."

I shook. I tried to kiss her. I couldn't help myself. But she pulled back with a smile.

"That's right. That's my needy little slut."

I moaned in frustration.

She said, "Masturbation isn't cheating, is it?"

Was it? Wasn't this conversation already crossing a line? I didn't let myself think about it. I shook my head.

"Touch yourself, Erin. Show me how you do it."

I didn't hesitate. We were alone. We were isolated. Masturbation isn't cheating. Let me touch myself. It doesn't matter that it is for her. That she will watch. It's just for me. This moment. I unbuttoned my shorts, licked my fingers, and slid my hand in. I was wet, of course. I shook as I squeezed my clit with my thumb and forefinger. I let my middle and ring fingers slide into me. I was panting for her in no time. I looked into her eyes while I increased my tempo.

"That's perfect," she said huskily. "Your face is so beautiful when you need to come. Did you imagine this when you saw my pussy last night?"

I gasped.

"Yes, I saw you peeking. I thought about you, too, last night. I thought about your face between my thighs, begging to taste me while your husband edged himself in the corner."

"Oh, fuck," I cried.

"Yeah, I made myself come over and over thinking about you. I pictured this moment. You with your hand in your cunt in front of me."

I could only grunt as my legs quivered. It was hard to stay standing. I wanted her to touch herself too, but she stood and watched. Somehow, that was sexier. I was her toy, and she didn't have to touch me. I would do it for her.

She said, "Did Cory tell you what he used to do for me?"

"Y-yes."

"Did it disgust you? Your brand-new husband wanting you to fuck another man? To bring him home a cunt full of cum? To watch him suck the cream pie?"

I shook my head vigorously. I was almost there. Her words were searing into my mind.

"If he consented. Would you?"

"Fuck, yes. Yes. I fucking want it."

"Are you going to come, baby?"

"Uh, huh."

"You need to come, baby?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Good. Think about your tongue in my pussy. Think about your needy cunt getting railed, while your husband lies bound and helpless."

I was cresting now. I could see it all.

She said, "He's waiting there, unable to move, watching the pleasure on your face, hearing your screams of pleasure, waiting for that pussy, waiting to taste that cunt full of--"

I cried out. I came. I hoped the waterfall and the trees were enough to muffle my sounds. I came looking into Marissa's eyes. She closed hers gently and pulled me close to her. My face leaned against her shoulder as she cooed and murmured sweet words of praise. She eased my embarrassment. She made me feel that this was just as natural as any other connection.

She pulled my hand up. She pressed my fingers against her lips. She closed her eyes and breathed in my aroma. She gently licked and nibbled my wet fingers. She sighed.

"I knew you'd taste so good," she said. "See?"

She put my fingers against my lips. I sucked my fingers, both of my taste and the taste of her mouth that had just licked them.

Later, that same hand waved down at my bridesmaids from the top of the ridge next to the waterfall. They looked up, waved and cheered back to us, unaware of the differing celebrations going on. Even if Cory said no tonight, what I felt in this moment was liberation enough. We could go on without her; I could take Cory where he needed to go. But wouldn't it be so much better with Marissa? Won't we both be happier at her feet?

VII

On the ride back, Marissa sat next to me. She chatted with my besties as I came to terms with what had happened and what it might mean for Cory and me. Would I tell him about my side trip with Marissa? Would he feel that I'd crossed a line somehow? When he left me with the girls, I had seen the trepidation in his eyes. He knew how persuasive she could be. Would it feel like a betrayal?

But that meant he understood the risk and let me go, anyway. Could he have wanted this?

I felt Marissa's shoulder brushing against mine as the van bounced and swayed. We rocked with it, my pale skin against her silky brown. She was small again next to me. I felt the compulsion to lean over and gently bite her shoulder. The scent of her hair, the light sheen of sweat in the humid air. Subconsciously, I brought my hand up to touch my face, and I could smell the aroma of my desire for her. I stuck a manicured nail in the corner of my mouth thoughtfully.

I caught Kylie quietly gazing at Marissa from the row in front of us. Taking advantage of the distraction created by Tiffany and Lianne's monopolization of the conversation with Marissa, Kylie was undressing her with her eyes. She was my one full lesbian bridesmaid. We'd never dated each other, but of course, I pretended to be an expert in all things Sapphic. She indulged me, but we both knew I was fronting. I'd only had one long-term relationship with a woman and I went back to men. She had no interest in boys.

Kylie glanced at me. I smiled back, and she rolled her eyes. She made a face of mock agony. I laughed and nodded. I felt Marissa's shoulder press into mine. Was she aware of the silent conversation between Kylie and me? I wouldn't put it past her. Kylie's long brown hair was pulled back in a pony held by her baseball cap. I didn't think of her sexually most of the time, but now my senses were on overload. All I could think about was sex with every person in my orbit. Is this what it's like to be a boy?

We made it back a little over an hour before the men were scheduled to return, so we all went back to our rooms to shower and change before meeting back downstairs at the bar to pre-game for the evening.

In my room, I removed my clothes and warmed up the shower, thinking about Marissa standing in the bathroom earlier, sizing me up like a meal. I ran my fingers over my body, taking in each inch of my skin as the steam slowly engulfed my reflection. I touched my nipples, wondering what they would feel like pierced as Marissa's were.

A knock came at the door.

"Busy," I called back.

"Aw, that's too bad," came the answer. It was Marissa's voice.

I ran to the door and opened it. Marissa stepped inside with a towel and a change of clothes stacked neatly in her hands. She handed the stack to me and stepped inside. Stunned, I let the door swing slowly shut as I watched her walk into the ensuite, unbuttoning her blouse and letting it fall, unclasping her bra and turning to me. She cocked her head to the side and dropped the bra. Her breasts were fuller than mine, round and heavy on her small frame. Her brown nipples tightened in the breeze created by the steaming shower. I could see the piercings clearly for the first time -- gold with rounded ends.

I stepped into the doorway, still holding her clothes. She nodded at the counter and I stacked them there, setting the towel aside.

She opened her shorts and slid them over her hips. I finally got to see the underwear I'd been wondering about all afternoon. Had she been in a thong? No, too impractical for a hike. Something lacy? Perhaps too ornate. These were white cheeky shorts with a pattern of daisies. In the mirror, through the fog, I made out the light brown skin of her exposed cheeks. Her ass was thick and tight. She turned around and let me see it clearly. I was jealous of that booty. I wanted to squeeze it. Cory said he liked my ass. I had a high bubble butt; but now that I know that he once planned to spend his life with Marissa, I wondered if he was setting down with me or just settling.

She looped her thumbs in the waistband and slid her shorts down, bending at the waist like a stripper. I clearly saw the puffy lips of her pussy lightly covered in short hair, that nest of ovals with a slight pink center that made me want to drop to my knees behind her. She stood up and stepped out of her underwear on the floor and into the shower.

I followed. She could have made some pretense -- my room's being cleaned, my water's not getting hot -- but she knew it wasn't necessary. She was here because she wanted to be, and I let her in because I wanted to be near her.

The bridal suite shower was spacious, of course, and had multiple jets. She let the water flow over her body as I sat on the little bench inside and closed the shower door. I stroked myself as I watched her. Masturbation isn't cheating.

"Stop," she said quietly. My hand froze. She continued showering, as I waited with my finger lightly pressed against my slit, powerless to move it or let it drop. She smirked as she soaped up her body, taking care to stroke every curve and crevice. She let me gaze on her perfect body, knowing I was thinking about kissing every place she touched.

She rinsed off and said, "Your turn," as she moved toward the bench. I leaned up expectantly, but she smirked. "To shower, baby."

Red faced, I gave up my seat to her and slid past her in the shower. There was room, but she closed the gap between me and the wall, forcing me to slide my breasts across her chest. I felt the metal of her piercings. Incidental contact. That didn't count, right?

I stood under the water and began my ritual. I washed my hair; she had been careful to keep hers out of the water. I soaped and scrubbed my skin. All the while she sat and began stroking her pussy with one hand while she cupped and rubbed her breasts with the other, occasionally tugging at a tight, dark nipple, twisting the bar.

I let my hand linger a little too long, cleaning my vulva. She made a sound like a 'tsk' sucking her teeth and I immediately stopped.

"You need a thick cock in you soon," she said. "Have you had bigger than Cory?"

I nodded.

"He's got a pretty cock, though, right?"

"Yes, I love it."

She nodded. "Do you want to watch him fuck me with it later?"

I paused. I felt a little anxiety as I imagined him behind her as I watched.

She said, "I know. It's hard to share. But I already know so much about his dick. How to keep it on edge. Where I can safely cause him pain."

I stroked my breast.

"You didn't know he likes a little pain," she said.

I shook my head.

"But you want to know, don't you?"

"Yes. If that's what he likes?"

"Maybe you like it too?"

I said, "I don't know if I can."

"It's magic. Giving... or taking." She flicked her fingers over her clit brazenly. She said, "I can tie you up too. I can tease you and make you beg in front of him."

My hands were rubbing across my body now. I avoided my pussy and breasts but all my skin was alive and every touch seemed heightened as I watched her jerk herself off in front of me, as I pictured the things she was telling me.

She said, "You want it. I can tell. You want me to show you how I own your man -- how I can make him beg and cry for this pussy. He's such a good boy. I can make him fuck me all night without letting him come -- just my personal little dildo, begging for release. Would you like that? To show you how you can come all night long on his cock and face?"

I whimpered and nodded. My hands moving across my skin, desperate to touch myself deeper.

"Have you pictured him with a cock in his mouth?"

I nodded and groaned. She grinned.

Her voice came strained now. She was turning herself on as she remembered. "That's my baby. You want to see that, don't you? Your handsome man on his knees, proving his love by getting another man hard for you?"

I panted and groaned. Could I come just from this?

She said, "And the only question in your mind as you... watch his greedy mouth bobbing on that stranger's cock is where... do you let him... finish -- in your mouth or his? Your pussy, or his...?"

Marissa was cresting and somehow so was I. I wanted to see her come.

I said, "That would be so fucking hot. I want it. I want it in my pussy. I want him to see me come. I want him to watch that cock pumping in and out of me."

She cried out, "Yes, that's it. Let him get close. Maybe lick you as it fucks you over his face."

"Oh, fuck." I cried as we hung together on the edge. "And he can feel it with his lips against the cock -- the pumping, the cum fucked into me."

"And you see, as the cock slides out, all that fucking cum, drain onto your husband's face."

"And his mouth is open, and his tongue is out."

Marissa nodded to me as we both lost our words as we came. I never touched my clit, although I squeezed my thighs together tightly, twisting my legs. I leaned against the wall as I pictured Cory's face covered in spunk as he drank and licked, while I watched Marissa's mouth open, her eyes close, her head tilt, and her neck strain as she let out a long, low groan. That was enough to get me off.

We both panted and caught our breath in the shower's steam. I wondered if anyone I knew was next door to us and if they were in their room now. If they were, I hoped they were jacking off to the sounds of two women climaxing.

Marissa looked at me and smiled. "You're perfect," she said. I bit my lip. I blushed. Was I? Or was I a hopeless slut that just jerked off with my husband's ex in the shower while he was away?

She said, "I hope I find your door open tonight."

"Leave him to me," I said.

"Well, not once I'm inside, baby."

I shivered at that thought. She stood up and walked to me. She stood close without touching. She brought her hand up between us. It was wet, but I knew it was her more than the shower. I could smell the aroma -- almonds and spice. I wanted to taste it, but she slid it past my mouth, letting it just brush my lips before she held it under the shower. I felt actual pain in mouth as it watered to taste those fingers and watched it all wash away.

But I licked my lips and found the slightest hint of her, and I wanted more, so much more.

VIII

By the time the men met us at the bar, we girls were pretty well toasted. Tiffany and Liane paired with their husbands. My cousin infiltrated the group, trying to stay close to Marissa. Kylie seemed frustrated by her inability to freeze him out. I hoped Marissa was thinking of better options this evening. Cory arrived and slipped in beside me. His forearm brushed mine, and he leaned over and kissed me before ordering.

As the bartender mixed his drink, he spoke low beside me. "How're you feeling?"

"Pretty buzzed," I said.

Then he leaned close to my ear. "I mean... How are you feeling?"

I turned to him and leaned up next to ear and nipped his lobe. "Pretty. Buzzed," I said slowly.

We locked eyes and a bit my lip as I ran a finger lightly around the rim of my margarita glass. I stuck the salted finger in my mouth and sucked.

"We should talk," he said.

I nodded, emphatically.

But then we had dinner with the full wedding party. I ate lightly; I didn't want to feel bloated later. Family chatted me up with tales of their day's adventures. I tried my best to be present and enjoy the conversations. Still, I kept an eye on Marissa.

She never looked at me. Now she was deeply invested in everything else. I knew it was just another ploy, but it worked. My need for her attention, heightened by the inability to get it, was integral to the tease. I kept picturing her in the shower, her delicate fingers sliding in her pussy, shining.

"I know that look," Cory said at one point.

I looked at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry, husband."

He smiled and kissed my forehead. "When she's got you on the hook, its agony."

"She wants to join us tonight," I said.

"Of course she does." He sipped his drink nonchalantly. I tried to decode his tone. Did he want this? Was he letting me play out my feelings? Why wasn't he acting more jealous?

"Do you?" I said.

"I want you."

"But you also want... other things." I said, looking around for eavesdroppers, keeping my mouth close to his cheek.

He said, "You're enough for me, Erin."

"You'd give up... all the things we talked about?"

"For you, I would."

I thought for a moment. I steadied myself. Did I want this more than he did? Was Marissa's power play turning my head? Or was he merely giving me an out?

I said, "She's very persuasive."

"I know, Erin. I thought about it a lot today. What she might say... or do."

I dropped my head slightly.

"I... it was... challenging."

"I think I needed you to see how hard it was to deny her. I didn't want you to think I was holding a torch for her."

"But you wanted to be with her once, permanently."

"Yes, but then I found you."

I kissed him. I couldn't help it. He was saying the right things. My emotions were all over the place. I loved my man and yet I found myself attracted to this woman -- on our honeymoon, no less. No, attracted was the wrong word. I was obsessed with Marissa. I saw her chatting with Kylie and felt jealous. I wanted to go interrupt them, to cockblock Kylie. Keep your hands off my woman! My memory kept flashing on the look on Marissa's face when she came. I felt the desire to see that expression again -- to see that face while my tongue was inside her.

After dinner, it was more cocktails on the beach. Marissa and my cousin were out in the waves. He followed her like a puppy. They laughed and played, but I didn't see them kissing. I couldn't imagine them fucking. Was she toying with him, too? Or was she here with him simply because she wanted to be here with us? I felt a moment of pity for him. But it reminded me you can't tell by looking at people what their kinks are. My husband looked every inch the figure of masculinity, yet I knew he'd sucked cock for her. He'd cleaned her pussy of another man's seed. What else had he done?

But that didn't make him less masculine in my eyes. That's weird to think, but I saw him as committed, fearless, devoted. Seeing him at my feet, watching him clean my pussy -- those acts were for my pleasure as much as his. And most importantly, they didn't include the threat of him straying from me. In fact, I felt it would bond him more strongly to me.

Years ago, I had a threesome with a girl and a guy. But the guy mainly was getting off on two girls licking his cock. We were performing for him. He was the one in control and we were kneeling at his feet. I didn't feel empowered. I felt naughty, sure. It was fun. I wasn't even into the girl... initially. It felt like a bucket-list item and I was unattached. I didn't even get an orgasm and I don't think the guy cared.

The best part for me was watching her ride him. We had a moment where she was in reverse cowgirl and she stared at me while she bounced on him. His legs were wide, and hers were outside his, so she was wide open as she ground down on his cock. It was too inviting, and I slid between their legs and licked her clit. The feeling of his cock inside her was exciting. I could feel it bulging inside her as it pressed against my lower lip while I gave her long, slow laps with the flat of my tongue. I knew it was working when she grabbed my hair. She stopped bouncing and just let me work.

He begged her to ride him some more, but she ignored him. He tried to hump into her, but the way her legs were holding him, she had all the control. She kept cooing to me, "That's right. Make me come."

I think he said, "I'm trying." But I knew she was talking to me. Finally, he got into it as her moans started filling the room. I'm not sure he'd heard a woman come for real before. Her grinding on him kept him hard and her moans were keeping me going. When she came, she leaned back on his chest, panting. Her breasts were shining with sweat and standing up. I remember her nipples were long and pointing up. I wished I'd sucked on them.

She told the guy, "Do you want to come?"

He just grunted. She lifted until his cock came out of her. It was slick with her juices. The tip was dripping cream that gathered in the band of his foreskin. She stroked his shaft and said, "Come on her face."

I shuddered and leaned in. I didn't care about the cock. I stared into her eyes as she stroked him over my face. It was as if she was stroking herself to come on me. I wasn't really into facials. It was a thing you do for guys to make them think you're nasty. But this felt different, like a sacrament. It didn't take long for him to spurt. She guided him over my cheeks and lips. She nodded at me when my mouth was coated and I licked it clean. She opened her mouth as a cue for me to open mine, and she squeezed the last of his pumps over my tongue. She bit her lip as I swallowed for her.

She got down on her knees and licked my face. The guy watching us said something like, "Fuck, yeah."

As I was leaving later, he was snoring on the bed. She was naked, but she got up and walked me to the door. Before I opened it, she pulled me in for a kiss. She pressed me back against the door and eased her hands up my skirt. Expertly, she brought me off right there in just a few heavy minutes. Then she opened the door and let me out on my wobbly legs. As she closed the door, she said, "Thanks for a fun night." I gave her a little finger wave. Her standing in the doorway with those pretty, pointed nipples standing up is my last memory of her.

I saw her on Instagram not too long ago with two kids and a tall blond husband that wasn't the guy from the three-way. She and her husband probably teach in Sunday school and he does not know she once licked her date's cum off another girl's face, but he fantasizes about something like it while she's asleep next to him in her prim PJs.

I didn't want to be that girl. I didn't want to slip into a demure, wifely role and pretend sex was just for procreation now. I wanted the freedom that complete trust in a partner gave me. Whether or not Marissa was part of it, I wanted to fuck him nasty. I wanted that thrill of a crazy, impulsive release. Sure, I wanted to see him on his knees sucking a cock for me, but only to see him fully free -- no inhibitions, no limits, no holding back. I didn't want him getting me off out of some obligation to 'see to my needs' any more than I wanted to be a dutiful wife, giving her husband a birthday BJ. I wanted to be the hot wife riding a cock because it was fucking fun. I wanted to give my husband a fresh creampie not to humiliate him but because he fucking loves the taste. Why can't marriage mean we get to play together and never judge one another for what gets us off?

I turned to Cory, who had been lost in his own thoughts. I wondered if he was thinking along the same lines.

I sighed. "I want it all, Cory. "

He said, "Are you sure? It won't be too much?"

"Too much is exactly what I want, husband."

We got to our room around eleven. We undressed and went to take a rinse-off in the same shower that Marissa and I had shared.

"Before you decide what comes next, Cory, I need to tell you what happened with Marissa earlier."

He listened. Even though we had acknowledged the attraction Marissa and I had, I felt I hadn't had his explicit consent for the intimacy. In a way, it felt like a drunken moment to me, inebriated by a combination of curiosity and lust.

It frightened me to tell the story. It was one thing to talk about bringing people into our newly formed circle, but to do it this soon with his ex might have been a huge mistake.

He held my hand there in the ensuite. Both of us naked before each other. He let me get my whole confession out. I didn't realize the weight of it until I laid it down. He didn't react or even cry when I started to tear up. When I finished, I looked him in the eye, waiting for the verdict.

He softly said, "You asked me if I wanted you to kick her out. I knew more than you what would come next and I didn't stop it." He laughed. "I've been eating myself up all day, thinking I'd tossed you to the wolves."

I let out a nervous laugh. I rolled my eyes in agreement.

He said, "What happens on this honeymoon can end the minute we board our plane back home. We can tell each other it was fun, a lark, or whatever. But I don't know if we'll ever get a better chance to explore it before our normal lives complicate everything."

I kissed him. I let him feel all my relief as the tension escaped my body. We both wanted this. It didn't have to be forever. We would make a memory though -- something to one day never tell our children.

Cory and I showered then played with each other the entire hour, edging ourselves as we whispered in the dark our fantasies to each other. We kept one-upping each other with the nastiest, most outrageous things we could think of. It went from threesomes to full orgies with cages and spreader bars. No ideas were bad. We were just seeing if we could scandalize the other. But neither balked. These weren't promises, but they were commitments of a kind -- nothing you say will make me think less of you.

At 11:59 PM, naked except for the diamond choker, I walked to the door and opened it wide. Marissa stood there waiting.

IX

Marissa eyed my naked body up and down, letting me hold the door wide open, exposed to light from the hallway. Her eyes paused on the diamond choker around my neck and she smiled like the cat that got the cream.

She wore a cover-up tied at her waist. She loosed the tie and let the robe slide off her shoulders to catch in the crook of her elbows. She wore a shelf-cut bustier that held up her otherwise bare breasts. The gold bars in her nipples glimmered. She also had long thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels. Her underwear was a sheer thong with a pattern that did nothing to hide her pussy. I could see the soft hair above her cleft and the hint of pink that I fantasized so often about these past two days.

She walked in, heels clacking on the tiled entry. She stepped past me. I let the door close. She dropped the cover-up drop and immediately I caught it, falling on my knees. The sharp sting of my skin against the floor -- one on the entry tile, one on the carpet -- flashed past me. I focused only on not letting the fabric touch the floor.

I was right there next to her full cheeks, exposed by the thong. She shifted her weight to one foot and cocked her hip up. I took the implied direction and kissed that cheek. She walked toward the bed where Cory lay waiting, his cock standing straight up. She let her long nails drag along its length from base to tip.

"Has it missed me?" she said.

Cory groaned under the sensation, then yelped as she slapped his balls. He whimpered as she quickly began lightly stroking his cock again.

My mouth must have been hanging open. She came to me and placed a finger on my chin, holding my mouth open.

"Tongue," she said. I stretched my tongue out, and she slid her thumb over it, sliding it back and forth on the slick saliva that filled my mouth suddenly. She pressed her thumb back until the knuckle slid across my upper teeth and my throat reacted. She shook her head in disappointment and pulled her hand away.

She stepped back to Cory and performed the same move on him -- sliding her thumb slick with my saliva deep into his mouth, then pulling it out.

She said, "Now your mouths are mine. I have taken them. Do you want to give me more?"

"Yes," I said.

"Yes," Cory said.

She frowned. "What have either of you done to deserve my touch?"

She walked away from the bed to sit on a chair across from it. She faced the window overlooking the ocean where the crescent moon rose, highlighting the wave crests. She sat on the edge of the chair with her legs close together. She was a queen ascending her throne with all the world her oyster. With each hand, she pointed to separate spots on the floor in front of her. Cory and I crawled to those spots and sat on our knees.

Once there, I stared at her ankles, unable to look up.

She said, "Look at me, Erin."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"No, Erin. Honorifics are earned. They are gifts given and we don't know each other well enough to define our relationship with a single word."

"I'm sorry... Marissa."

She said, "It's also important that you do not disassociate this from reality by turning our experience into a kind of dream. Erin and Cory are inviting Marissa into your trust to teach you. Erin, your husband has a head start on you. He knows his place with me, but he needs to know that the game is different now. I'm a different person and he has since committed to you for life. I will honor that and we will start from scratch." She smiled, "So to speak."

I suppressed a smile. I felt like a new kid in school. I was eager to please.

Marissa said, "You have red, yellow, and green for safe words. Stop, careful, and go. I expect you to use them. I will be displeased if you don't because it means you are not conscious but instinctive, following base desires alone."

"Red, yellow, and green," I said.

"Good, now, Erin, I know you want to dominate your husband. You are, in fact, excited at the idea of watching him show his devotion."

"Yes, Marissa," I said. I felt my heart fluttering at the thought. I pictured coming home from a date where Cory waited for me inside.

She said, "But first you must learn to submit. Not only because I believe you are a switch, but because you need to understand the ache your husband feels to please and the energy, patience, and care required of the dominant role."

I nodded.

"You need to speak, Erin."

"Yes, Marissa. I understand. I want this."

"Yes, Erin. We all know you want it, but now I need to hear that you consent to move forward with me. Not only with yourself, but your husband."

I glanced at Cory. His expression was expectant, perhaps fearful. Afraid I'd say no or yes?

"Yes," I said. "I consent. I agree."

"And Cory?"

"Yes, Marissa. I consent."

She sighed. "What a gift you two are giving me and to each other. I'm so fucking ready to use you."

I felt proud, and I shook my head at how easily I succumbed to praise. I wanted to please her. I wanted to learn how she used Cory. I wanted to be what he clearly needed from the woman in his life.

Marissa said, "Come closer."

We scooted in.

"Closer."

We slid up next to her body. My head was about her shoulder height. I felt the heat of her thigh against my side. I could smell the slight spice of sweat from her skin in the humid air.

"Close your eyes," she said. As I did, she reached up with her left hand and pulled me close to her. I felt my cheek against her breast, the slight scuff of her bustier against my chin. And the aroma of her armpit filled my nostrils.

"Can you smell my skin?" She said.

"Mm hm." I said. I heard Cory's soft grunt to my left. He was in the same position as I.

She said, "You will learn every inch of my skin by scent. You will imprint upon it and come to crave these moments where I let you touch me, smell me, and taste me. I will be your delicacy to savor."

I inhaled deeply, overwhelmed by the spice, a sharpness, but also something else. There was a hint of perfume, but not identifiable. It was like nestling my face into a full rose, letting the esters and attars flood my sinuses. I felt emotions bubbling up that I couldn't place.

Marissa said, "Can you sense it? My desire for you?"

"Mm hmm." I was getting a little dizzy, partly because I was breathing deeper, trying to pull more of her into my lungs.

"Are you salivating, Erin?"

"Yes." I didn't realize it until she mentioned it, but my mouth was watering to the point of almost drooling.

"It's my body's chemical signals, connecting with yours," Marissa said. "Tell her, Cory, did your mouth water when I passed by you at the reception?"

Cory's voice came pained, but defeated. "Yes."

"Are you hard for me now?"

"Yes, M- Marissa."

He stopped himself from saying, "Ma'am." I felt the slight sting again of knowing that Marissa had him this way first. She still held sway. They didn't need eye contact to connect -- scent alone tied her to him.

She said, "Do you want to taste?" Her voice was husky. She was turning herself on, holding each of us like this.

"Please?" I said, surprising myself.

She lifted her arm, wrapping her forearm behind my head, pulling me into her armpit. By now, I was all in. I kissed the soft skin. I felt the slight chafe of her stubble. I inhaled deeply, knowing that it wasn't just the sweat, it was the pheromones. I was taking her excitement into my lungs. I was filling my head with the aroma of her desire. It was the most intimate I'd ever felt with any person -- male or female. I'd never thought of the armpit as sexy before. But now I let my tongue slip out and press against her skin. I moaned softly as I tasted the salt. There were floral notes and umami. Nothing sour, but some acidity. My drool poured off my tongue, and I slurped it up.

"Yes," she said. "Give in to it."

I began panting and moaning as I licked at her armpit like I wanted to lick her pussy.

She said, "Scent goes straight to the core of our memory. In time, I will invoke this passion in you just from standing next to you. The scent of my body will trigger this submission to me better than any code word or demand. Your brain is connecting this to your desire. It's a drug, Erin. You are getting your first dose of the most powerfully addictive drug there is. Are you wet, Erin?"

I moaned between licks, "So fucking wet, Marissa."

"Your wife won't be able to resist anything I ask, Cory."

He said, "Yes, please." I could hear his own panting and licking. We were like two puppies lapping.

Marissa laughed, "It wasn't a question, Cory, but I know you can't help it. Cory, stop now and undo my bustier."

"Yes, Marissa," he said, suppressing his disappointment.

I would not release her. I kept sucking and tasting as if it were my first meal, or my last. The bustier fell away. I felt the heat of her breast against my cheek. She eased my head away from her armpit and under her left breast. There I smelled a different aroma. Not as floral, less spicy, more acidic. I stretched my tongue to clean her skin -- to take more of her into me.

"Each spot is different, no?"

"So. So. Good," is all I could say. She might have been ice cream for the way I lapped at her. I felt I could sense more with my eyes closed. And I couldn't think, I could only groan and lick.

She guided our faces up her body. Her pierced nipple was tantalizing, just out of reach of my tongue. She brought me to her collarbone, which I nibbled with my lips, and then her neck, where I felt the heat of her arteries, felt the rapid pulse of her blood filling her brain. We were bringing her pleasure. Her neck was saltier than her armpit and I felt like a butterfly soaking it up with my long tongue. Then I was behind her ear. The oil of her hair, along with the hint of yeast. Even that was intoxicating now. Nothing about her body could turn me off. I wanted every inch of her.

Then it was down again, along her ribs, the inside curve of her hip. I caught the scent of her pussy stronger now, calling me over, to no avail. We went down her hips until we were both bent over with our lips at the top of her stockings. She rolled them down for us, no longer needing to hold our heads in place. We knew not to stray. She had us bend further until our heads twisted to taste the back of her knees. Each patch of skin had differently combined scents and flavors. The layers and complexity were hard to discern, but unique enough. I knew my brain was mapping them. That in time, I would be able not only to label each by scent; but also could recall them with clarity in quiet moments. I knew I would one day masturbate to the memory of her aroma and taste alone.

Why hadn't Cory and I done this with each other? Would we have needed Marissa had we only allowed ourselves to become addicted to each other's bodies? But without her, I would not have known to try. And now I was imprinting on her. I knew I would have to do the same with Cory. I would take him on this excursion with me repeatedly until he could tell us apart, Marissa and me. I would acquaint him with every scent so he could know for certain when an interloper had marked me.

We arrived at her feet. Her stockings rested at her ankles. She had us unbuckle her shoes and slide them off. We peeled the stocking down over her feet, releasing her toes. There, another aroma beckoned us. This was richer, darker with sweat, but still not completely sour. Again, I've never had a foot fetish to my knowledge, but I could not resist letting my tongue play between her toes. I needed to suckle each pedicured digit, feeling the smoothness of the polish under my tongue. I marveled at the care she gave her feet. No rough patches. They were truly beautiful. I made the note to better care for mine. I wanted a person to be there for me -- a man or woman at my feet, anointing them with kisses.

With eyes closed, I pictured the room where my new husband and I lay naked on the floor sucking the feet of his ex. She clad now only in her transparent thong at the edge of the chair and looking down on us. We were prostrate before her. I knew Cory was struggling with his erection pressed into the carpet beneath him. I could feel my pussy literally dripping down my inner thighs that I squeezed tightly together, hoping for some friction.

"Such obedient little sluts," Marissa said above us. "Erin. Would you like to taste my pussy now?"

I looked up. "Please?"

She snickered. "The question is rhetorical. I can smell your answer."

I groaned.

"Stand up, now," she said.

We pulled back and struggled to get on our feet.

"You can open your eyes."

I blinked. I took her in; we looked down at our petite dom. I got tunnel vision from standing too quickly. She saw me waver and lifted a leg up for me to steady myself on. I held onto her ankle as my eyes focused on her vee covered by the transparent patch of her thong. I saw how wet she was as dew collected on the fabric. Her labia were full and puffy. The pride rose in me again. We pleased her. My mouth watered still more, and I had to suck and swallow the excess. All I wanted in the world was between her legs right now.

When she could see I was steady, she brought her foot back to the floor and stood up. Looking up at each of us, she studied our faces.

"So, eager," she said. "I love this part. The shock in her eyes, Cory. The confusion about how fucking horny she is for me. Do you remember that feeling?"

"Yes," he said.

She touched his face. She played with her fingers on his lower lip as he licked the tips. She said, "I remember the first time he let a man fuck this hole, Erin." She turned to me. "It didn't take long to get him there." She put her fingers on my lips. "You'll be so popular."

I shivered.

"She likes that plan, Cory. I've learned a lot since we were a thing. I've expanded my circle. I have many contacts. They will be so excited to send Erin home for you to clean."

"Fuck." The voice was my own.

"Yes, Erin. Cory needs a very slutty wife to satisfy him. He will devour you because his kink isn't just submission, it's reclamation. He longs to return you to the state of innocence -- the purity of the moment after your vows. He will fuck you with abandon to fill you again with his own seed. You will leverage his competitive urge to erase the image in your mind of the other people you fuck."

"Oh, my god," I said.

"Am I right, Cory?"

Cory paused and I think it was because the thought was too exciting to utter, as if he spoke out loud, he might come then and there. I looked down to see his cock twitch. A bead of cum bubbled out and ran down the underside of his crown, where it had already pressed the foreskin back.

He said, "Yes, Marissa, I will."

Marissa said, "But I will make it impossible for him to do so, Erin. Do you know how?"

My heart pounded. I couldn't be sure what she meant. It was beyond my imagination at this point. My head was still too full of her aroma. I was still fixated on her pussy. I could only imagine my face there now.

She snapped her fingers. My eyes connected with hers. She stood up and stepped close to us again. My head spun as I the air swirled around me full of her scents.

"This is my point. Erin, I will keep you busy with things Cory can't provide. I will keep the men bigger or thicker, longer-lasting, or more numerous. I will make the scenes impossible for him to duplicate on his own. And only when he's gone mad with the sloppy seconds... thirds... fifths, will we let him watch."

I felt my pussy clench at the thought. My mouth dropped open. She reached her hand down, sliding it over my lower belly to my bare mons. She said, "You waxed for your honeymoon? For him?"

"Yes," I said, my skin alive at the new sensation of her fingers just above where I ached for her to plunge them.

She said, "You will keep yourself bare for me. As will Cory. While you are toys, you will not have hair below your neck. Smooth like dolls." She reached up to touch my choker for emphasis. "Until I declare you the owner of your husband, you are my toy, my plaything, my slut."

I nodded and swallowed.

"Words," she said.

"I understand," I said. "I will... be your toy."

"And until then?"

I looked at her, confused, and then I saw her other hand sliding down my husband's belly. Then I knew what she wanted me to say. "Until then... He is yours."

She sighed and kissed me. I melted so quickly, my knees almost gave out, but she slipped her hand behind my hip to support me. This was her final victory. I would give him to her willingly. I would let my husband's ex take him from me until she was ready to give him back.

Or I could say red or yellow.

But I didn't.

Or he could say red or yellow. And I knew he would not. This was my choice.

She said, "Do you remember our conversation in the shower?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you about our shower, Cory?"

"Yes, she did."

"Did she tell you what she fantasized about you doing?"

Cory paused. I may have left out the details of the story. Cory laying below me, watching a cock sliding into me, pumping seed into me, spilling it on my husband's face. Did she have someone waiting to come in here? Would this happen tonight? I felt anxiety tighten in me. Was I ready?

She said, "Erin, lie on the bed."

The recognition on my face gave me away. Marissa gave that evil grin. An expression I longed for, the slight cruelty. I went to the bed and pulled the covers off. I lay down on my back with my feet toward the headboard.

"That's right," Marissa said as she slinked over. She stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at me. I could see the soft hair of her pussy, and the cleft where her legs closed, hiding my prize. I looked up from the small curve above her mons up over her smooth stomach and her round breasts, topped by her tight brown nipples. She bit her lip as she looked down.

She said, "You thought you could make him forget me. You thought you could replace me in his mind."

I nodded. She read me completely.

She said, "Pull them down, Erin."

I reached up with trembling fingers and touched the curve of her hip, felt the straps of the thong in my fingers, and slowly pulled down. Even though I'd seen her pussy earlier, I took a sharp breath as the wet fabric peeled away from it. As my hands dropped below her knees, the underwear dropped to her feet.

She said, "Don't worry. I'm not the jealous type. But I am possessive. And I'm generous. I'll take him when I want, as long as I want, but I'll give you more in return. I'll give you dozens more. You'll thank me every time and beg me to forgive you forever thinking you were the better woman."

"I'm sorry," I said, stunned that my eyes were watering. Her words burned with truth. I did not feel at this moment that anyone was sexier, or more powerful, or more feminine than Marissa standing above me. My heart pounded with the desire to pull her down over me so I could take in that last patch of skin to drink her essence fully.

She said, "You want to taste this." She rubbed her pussy. Her fingers were immediately soaked.

"Yes, please."

She bent over, laying her body down over mine. Her weight immediately pinned me. She stepped her legs wide apart, and I saw her open just inches above me.

"You crave it, don't you? To let your tongue explore just one more place?"

"Yes, please? Please?"

"Well, to taste it, you'll have to work for it. You'll have to make it clean again. Cory?"

He stepped up behind her. I saw his cock pointing straight at her pussy, shadowing my face. His balls were already pulling up tightly against his shaft. His glans was slick with pre-cum and the head was pink with blood, pushing the foreskin all the way back.

"Yellow," I said.

"Stop, Cory." Marissa said. But he already had at my word.

Then silence. They both waited, poised, letting me get my head straight. This was the last moment I could say my husband was my own. Everything that transpired before was fantasy. It was fun and exciting to imagine. But this was my husband, ready to fuck his ex on top of me. I was there to see him take her. I would hear their pleasure as they fucked again for the first time in years. He would get her back. And I would get... the remainders. I would have her sloppy seconds. I would drink his cum as it drained from her. I would drink it so that I could get what I really wanted most -- my strongest urge in this moment -- to taste her clean. I wanted her pure flavor and scent from her deepest place. I wanted to drink her in, hold her in my mouth and swallow. Again. Again. Again.

And that's what he wanted. I understood. Cory's lust would be as strong as mine. I imagined him below my used pussy. Making him grunt and beg until he got his taste. Make me clean again. Wash me pure with your tongue. Suck it all up and remember what I used to taste like before my men. Even the women. Can you taste their spit from where their tongues lodged in me? They got everything they could. Is there any left for you?

This was Marissa's gift to me. Take him from me, but show him to me at the same time.

"Green," I whispered. "Fuck her, please, Cory. Pl--"

I groaned as I saw them press together. She pushing back. He sliding forward. I saw him bump against her pussy, and I reached up to line him up. I let his cock slide through my hand into her. Yes. All the way. Please, take her. Please take him from me.

"Stand still," Marissa said. Cory froze and let Marissa grind back on his cock, pulling out so that I could see her cream coating him. Sliding slowly back so I could see it disappear into her. I watched the bulge grow along her lower curve, where I knew he was stretching her.

"Now, Erin," she said. "Jerk off for me. I want to watch you play with your clit while you watch me fuck your husband. Show me how much it gets you off to have me take him from you."

"Oh, fuck, Marissa, please," I said as I masturbated for her. "Take him. Fuck him. Fuck him like... Like only you can. Please, come on his cock. I want to hear you come on my husband's cock. Please? Please?"

"He feels so good, Erin. Cory sure missed this pussy, didn't you?"

Cory grunted.

"Say it," Marissa barked.

"Yes. It feels so good," he said. The words tumbled out, and each one egged me on, brought me closer to coming. He said, "I never forgot how good this pussy felt. I want to come, Marissa. I can't..."

"Not until we come," she said. The order was clear. I doubled my efforts. I was close, too. I tried to lean up and lick her, but as I lifted my head, she lifted her hips. No luck. He would have to come first. I could not taste her without him filling her.

As she ground back against my husband and I cried and groaned with my need to come, it finally gave her what she needed -- the sounds of our desire echoing in the room. She screamed and pushed back to seal herself against him. She reached down and rubbed her clit. My mouth opened, ready for whatever came next -- or who.

She spasmed. Her legs quivered, and she gave the low guttural moan that told us we could finish now too. I joined her chorus, and Cory grunted and groaned. I watched with marvel as his cock stretched and contracted at the base, filling her with pump after pump of cum. Beads of it squeezed out the sides and ran down his balls. I stretched my tongue up to taste them. I took his lower ball gently in my lips and let my tongue massage it. He groaned in response. More, I thought. Give her more.

They stayed sealed together as Marissa and I kept rubbing our clits in time with each other. She came again first. Then I came. With her second orgasm, I saw her pussy suck in his dick one more time before relaxing as she forced it out. His cock came out and dropped on my face. I eagerly sucked it in, cleaning it. Tasting him and her at the same time.

Then I felt the warmth sliding over my chin. I released his cock. He stepped back, and I knew it was so he could see the cum slowly sliding out of her and onto my face. I gulped and lifted my head to press my mouth against her pussy. I didn't ask for permission and she didn't stop me. She let me give into my desire.

I savored that first pull. I knew his taste. He was sweet. He always had sweet cum. He was creamy and thick, but not clumpy. I swallowed and swallowed. He doesn't cum buckets, but it was a lot more than normal and it was everywhere.

Marissa pressed up to seated, keeping most of her weight on her knees, but planting herself firmly on my face, sealing me off from everything but the taste. I could smell the peppery aroma of her ass and let my mouth find that, too, which elicited a moan from both of them.

I took it all in and swallowed. I licked and cleaned, gasping for air in the brief moments Marissa gave me. This moment was about my utter submission. I was helpless under her. I was a mouth to use. My face was a cumrag for her. As I knew soon my husband's face would be for me. And I would know how delicious it was for him to be here, gulping for air, for cum, for release under me.

She let me stay there as my heart calmed down. She stayed bent over me until I could taste just her. Her seafoam-sweet flavor. Her honey-musk scent. I breathed her in like it was my last connection to the surface, the final gulps up air in my tank before I could sink under the waves. I could hear them crashing on the shore outside, but to me they felt like they were washing above me. I was drowning in her and only her taste could keep me alive.

At last, she slid down off the end of the bed until her face was next to mine. She kissed me over and over. She held my head up and eased me onto the bed. There, the three of us cuddled. Cory spooned behind me, kissing my hair. Marissa wrapped her arms around me as we stared into each other's eyes. She cooed sweet words of praise. She stroked my skin and held me tight. And I dropped into the deepest sleep I've ever experienced.

In the morning, I woke to Cory next to me. I turned my head to look for her.

"She's gone back to her room, babe."

"Oh," I said, disappointed. Groggy, I turned to him. I looked into his eyes and touched his face. "Are you OK?"

He touched my hand. "Perfect, love. Are you?"

I shook my head as if it were all a dream. "I couldn't imagine..." I sighed. I stared at him like a new baby. "I... want... more."

He smiled. "I want it too."

Marissa's flight was earlier than ours. I didn't see her before we left. But I knew we would see her again soon. She had texted us instructions upon landing. Cory had given her our phones earlier so she could give herself access to everything. She would follow our movements. She would guide us. We would wait and be ready for each lesson, each dictate.

We drifted home as if in a daze. All the surrounding people, the friends, family and travelers. They called it our honeymoon glow. No one could understand the secret Cory and I shared now. The secret was no longer Cory's alone to bear. The secret belonged to us. And we belonged to Marissa -- our marital plus one.