The Hotel Room Guests

Claire had picked the lingerie long before she picked the dress. A delicate, almost laughably transparent slip of lace and silk. White, of course, with just enough give to accommodate the kind of movement she hoped would follow a night of dancing and discreet eye contact over champagne.

Jake hadn't noticed it in her suitcase. Typical. But he'd definitely notice it later... if he managed to peel himself away from the whiskey and old college friends long enough to remember why they'd booked the suite with the deep-soaking tub and the king-sized bed.

They were here for someone else's vows, but Claire had her own kind of ceremony in mind: timed, tracked, and meticulously prepared. According to three apps and one very expensive thermometer, tonight was the night.

Unfortunately, Jake hadn't exactly gotten the memo.

The wedding had been beautiful, the reception rowdy. And now, half a bottle of bourbon deep, her husband had invited his charmingly overconfident college roommate and his too-perfect girlfriend back to their hotel room for "a nightcap." As if the ticking clock didn't matter.

Claire forced a smile as Ethan laughed at one of his own jokes, spreading himself across the hotel armchair like he owned the place. He hadn't changed much since college, broad shoulders, that smug little dimple when he smirked. She hadn't liked him back then, not really, but she had noticed him. She'd even imagined, once or twice, what he might be like in bed, before she and Jake got serious.

And now, here he was. Ethan, grinning like sin itself. Snow starting to fall outside. Her husband too drunk to read the room, or maybe just tipsy enough to ignore what he saw.

Claire exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

But maybe... just maybe... it would still end up being unforgettable.

The wine didn't help. Not because it wasn't good, Sierra had brought a bottle up from the reception, something dry and French and "perfect for winding down", but because Claire wasn't winding down. She was wound tight. Ovulation-tight. Calendar-tight. A low, hormonal ache that tugged just beneath her belly button every time Jake touched her thigh and then took his hand away like he'd forgotten why he started.

Across from her, Ethan was halfway through his second glass and completely at home in their suite. He'd kicked his shoes off. Rolled up his sleeves. He even leaned back to grab a pillow off the bed and wedge it behind him as if it were his room. Claire watched the way his forearm flexed, the way the veins in his hands caught the warm light, and immediately looked away.

Sierra was curled up next to him on the chair like a cat in silk. She was younger, mid-twenties, maybe? Big eyes, big lips, and the kind of free-floating sexuality that made Claire feel buttoned-up just by comparison. She laughed easily, threw little glances Jake's way that Claire definitely noticed, and didn't seem to care that they were overstaying their welcome.

Or maybe she hadn't realized there was a welcome to overstay. Jake certainly hadn't made that clear.

"I can't believe the snow's already coming down," Jake said, glancing toward the window. "They said we might get flurries, but this..."

Ethan cut in. "We're definitely not driving tonight. This is legit. We might be snowed in until morning."

"Oh no," Sierra said in a way that didn't sound worried at all. "Guess we're stuck with you two."

Claire smiled tightly. Her legs were crossed, her shoulders straight. She was every inch the composed wife. The one who sent thank you notes and kept a drawer full of practical lingerie that only recently had started to feel like a joke. A timed, tracked, purposeful joke.

"So," Ethan said, dragging out the word as he topped off everyone's glass. "What's it like being married for... how long now? Ten years?"

"Eight," Jake said. "And change."

"Nine in March," Claire corrected. Of course she knew the date. The restaurant they'd reserved. The dress she planned to wear. Assuming she wasn't pregnant by then.

Ethan gave her a slow smile, eyes sweeping her legs. "Still looks brand new."

Claire flushed, more from the way he looked at her than the compliment itself. Sierra didn't seem to mind. Maybe she liked sharing him. Maybe she expected it.

Jake chuckled and clinked his glass against Claire's. "She keeps me honest."

"Does she?" Ethan asked, his tone teasing, but there was something under it, something warm and curious and a little too direct. "I remember when you used to be the bad influence."

Claire stiffened slightly, but Jake was laughing again.

"Oh, he still is," Claire said, before she could stop herself. "He just doesn't remember it the next morning anymore."

That got a laugh out of Sierra. Ethan just grinned at her, slow and wolfish.

"Fair warning," he said, raising his glass, "I'm not the best influence either."

Claire took a sip of wine she didn't want and let the warmth bloom in her chest.

Jake had no idea what he'd invited into their room tonight.

The next twenty minutes passed in a haze of laughter, the occasional refill, and Ethan retelling stories from their college days that Claire had only half-heard back then--and half-wanted to now. Jake egged him on, his voice loosening with each sip of whiskey. Every so often he'd reach for Claire's thigh again, rubbing circles there, grounding her. Reminding her that this was them, that he still saw her. But each time, his hand would drift away to grab his drink or gesture wildly through a joke, and the connection would break like a flickering light bulb.

The snow thickened against the windows, powdering the glass in a way that felt too intimate, too enclosed. The suite seemed smaller than it had before. More crowded. Not just physically, but energetically.

Claire stood to gather the empty glasses, needing a reason to move.

"You don't have to do that," Sierra said brightly from her nest on the chair.

"I don't mind," Claire replied, stacking the glasses on a tray. She needed the task, something to do with her hands that didn't involve accidentally tracing the line of her thigh in front of Ethan again. Something that didn't look like fidgeting while her body buzzed with restless energy that had no outlet.

Not the outlet she'd planned, anyway.

She brought the tray to the small kitchenette and stared out the tiny window above the sink. Snow spiraled down like confetti from a ruined party. She barely heard Jake say something about the roads being shut down, but she heard Ethan's voice clearly when he said, "Well. Guess we're having a sleepover."

Her hand tightened around the counter edge.

Of course they were.

She took a breath. Then another.

When she turned around, Sierra had already kicked off her heels and was curled up on the edge of the bed, their bed, scrolling through her phone like she'd been invited to stay. Jake was grinning, Ethan had his feet up, and not one of them had bothered to ask Claire how she felt about sharing the room.

It was her body on a schedule. Her fertility chart taped inside her planner. Her sexy, stupid lingerie folded beneath her dress in the suitcase. And this? This was not the plan.

Jake looked over at her and must've caught the expression on her face. He gave her a sheepish shrug. "They can take the second bed, babe. It's not a big deal."

"It's not ideal either," Claire said evenly.

"Oh, come on," Ethan said, grinning at her. "We'll be quiet. You two can still do your thing. Just pretend we're not here."

Claire stared at him.

He winked.

Sierra laughed, tossing her phone down. "Seriously, don't stop on our account. We'll plug our ears."

"Or join in," Ethan added under his breath, but she heard it.

The heat rose in her cheeks again, part embarrassment, part anger, and part something else. Something lower. Hungrier. Something that caught her off-guard.

Jake raised an eyebrow at her, surprised. Maybe by how quickly her breath caught. Maybe by the sudden flush that crept up her chest.

Claire turned back toward the kitchenette, hands gripping the edge again.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to slap Ethan, kiss him, or throw him out into the snow.

She wasn't sure if Jake would stop her from doing any of it.

And worse, so much worse, she wasn't sure which part of her was winning.

"One drink," Claire said, holding up her index finger.

Ethan gave her a mock salute and poured a careful two fingers of wine into her glass.

She took it from him without meeting his eyes.

It wasn't about the wine. It was about control. And maybe letting go of just enough of it to get through the rest of the evening without snapping. Or saying something too honest. Or staring too long at Ethan's forearms when he passed her the bottle.

She perched at the edge of the bed, careful to keep a cushion of space between her and Jake, whose buzz had mellowed into a soft warmth and sleepy grin. He leaned back, satisfied, and stretched an arm behind her shoulders. His fingers brushed her skin lightly through her dress.

Sierra, still barefoot, still too comfortable, suddenly sat up straighter.

"Okay," she said, clapping her hands once. "If we're snowed in and not sleeping anytime soon, we should play something."

"Oh God," Claire muttered. "What are we, twelve?"

"Exactly," Ethan said with a wolfish grin. "But drunker."

"Truth or dare?" Sierra offered, her tone playful, innocent on the surface, but Claire saw the glint in her eyes.

Jake chuckled. "We haven't played that since... sophomore year?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Speak for yourself."

Claire rolled her eyes. "No kissing dares," she said automatically, surprising herself with how fast the rule came out.

"Ooh," Sierra teased. "So other dares are okay?"

"I didn't say that."

Jake nudged her gently. "Come on, babe. Let's just have a little fun."

Claire looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were soft, a little glassy, but warm. He wasn't thinking with any agenda, not yet. Just rolling with the moment.

She sighed, took a sip of wine, and said, "Fine. But no stripping either."

Ethan raised both brows and settled deeper into the chair like he'd just turned on a movie he was very interested in.

The first few rounds were harmless. Ethan admitted to skinny-dipping on campus. Sierra dared Jake to text an old professor a heart emoji. Claire was asked if she'd ever faked it with Jake. She answered, diplomatically, not in the last few years.

But then Sierra, clearly riding a mischievous high, asked her a question that sliced through the air like a knife.

"Claire," she said sweetly. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Claire said quickly, before the girl could get clever.

Sierra tilted her head. "If you could change one thing about tonight, what would it be?"

Claire blinked.

Everyone waited.

The answer came before she could censor it.

"I would've had the room to ourselves," she said, quiet but firm. "We were supposed to be trying to get pregnant."

The words hung there. They weren't harsh. They weren't angry. But they were real. Undeniably real. And they cracked the tipsy glow like a pane of thin glass.

Jake cleared his throat. "Claire.."

"No, it's okay," Sierra cut in, her voice suddenly softer. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have... stayed, if I had."

Claire shook her head. "You didn't do anything wrong. We didn't exactly make a big announcement."

Ethan looked over at Jake. "Dude..."

Jake raised his hands slightly. "I didn't think she'd mind. I thought maybe later.."

"Later," Claire repeated, staring down at her wine. "As in, after the day's already passed?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then Sierra leaned forward, tentative. "I mean... not to make it weird, but if that's the plan, you two should still go for it. You don't need to wait for us to fall asleep or whatever."

Jake looked at Claire. "I mean... she's not wrong."

"God, you two," Claire muttered, burying her face in one hand, but she couldn't stop the flush that bloomed on her cheeks. Or the awareness that pulsed now beneath her skin, of how aware Ethan must be of all of it.

"Hey," Ethan said, voice quiet. "We can keep our backs turned. Pillow over the head. Blanket wall. Whatever makes it work."

Claire laughed in spite of herself. "You all sound like you're coordinating some weird sex ed exercise."

"Only if you need volunteers," Ethan said under his breath, and Claire felt it again, that flash of heat, annoyance tangled with arousal, a tight little knot forming low in her belly.

Sierra stretched her legs and leaned back. "Okay, so maybe we end the game on that note. Let the married couple do what married couples do."

Claire didn't move.

She looked at Jake, who looked at her with something soft and maybe even a little eager.

And then she glanced, just briefly, at Ethan. Who was watching her with the kind of lazy, confident interest that told her he wouldn't push, but he would enjoy whatever happened next.

Her glass was empty. Her body was full of heat.

She had no idea if she was about to storm out or climb on top of her husband in front of two near-strangers.

Maybe both.

Claire closed the bathroom door behind her, turned the lock, and exhaled like she'd been holding her breath all evening.

She leaned against the counter, palms pressed flat to the cool marble, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Flushed cheeks. Glossy eyes. A faint smear of lipstick. She looked like a woman on the verge of something.

But what?

Outside that door: two tipsy houseguests; her husband's old friend, who just happened to be more attractive and far more attentive than she remembered, and a ticking clock on her fertility. Not exactly the night she'd imagined, but something was unfolding. Not just between the four of them. Inside her.

Claire opened her suitcase slowly, almost ceremonially. The lingerie was folded neatly on top, right where she'd placed it. She'd packed it with intention. Not for seduction, not even really for Jake. She'd packed it for herself. As a reminder of what this night was supposed to mean. What she wanted it to mean.

She lifted the sheer lace slip in one hand, letting it spill like water through her fingers. It was whisper-thin, snowy white, and utterly transparent. Her nipples would show through it. So would the small triangle of matching panties. The fantasy of fertility, distilled into fabric.

But now?

Now, there were other eyes in that room. And part of her was furious about it.

The other part... wasn't.

She swallowed, pressing the silk to her chest, and stared at her reflection again. Could she still wear it? For Jake? For herself?

Or for the eyes that might not stay politely averted?

A quiet knock startled her.

Before she could answer, Sierra's voice drifted through the door. "Hey... it's just me. Can I come in for a sec?"

Claire hesitated.

Sierra knocked again, softer this time. "I promise I'm not trying to ambush you."

Claire reached back and unlocked the door.

Sierra slipped in and gently closed it behind her. She was barefoot, still in her dress, though it now hung a little looser at the top. Her face was open, unusually gentle, for someone so playful just minutes earlier.

"Didn't mean to pry," she said. "You just looked... overwhelmed."

Claire gave a half-laugh. "That obvious?"

"A little. I just wanted to say I get it. I would've been pissed too. About the plan. About people crashing in."

Claire sat on the edge of the tub, the lingerie still balled loosely in her lap.

"It's not just that," she admitted. "It's like... I had this whole night in my head. And then everything shifted, and I don't know whether to be angry or..."

Sierra sat beside her. "Turned on?"

Claire's eyes cut toward her, sharp and instinctive.

But Sierra only smiled. "You can say it. You're not the only one who's noticed the tension in that room."

Claire looked down, brushing her thumb along the edge of the lace. "It's not like that. I mean.. I would never.."

"Cheat?" Sierra finished, shrugging. "You're not. But thinking about it doesn't make you a villain. Especially if you're both... kind of thinking about it."

Claire hesitated. "I don't think Jake.."

"Claire," Sierra said gently. "He watched you all through that game. Not like a man annoyed with his wife. Like a man watching other people start to notice what's his."

Claire's pulse kicked behind her ribs.

Sierra smiled. "For what it's worth, I think you're stunning. You don't have to prove anything. If you want to wear that," she added, nodding at the slip, "you should wear it. Whether it's for him, or yourself... or whoever ends up seeing it."

Claire held her breath. Something in her chest opened, warm and slightly dangerous.

Sierra stood, smoothing her dress. "I'll keep them entertained. Come out when you're ready."

She left quietly, with a glance back that felt more like permission than suggestion.

Claire looked at the mirror again.

She stood slowly and slid out of her dress.

Claire opened the door and stepped out into the suite like it was a stage.

For a moment, no one noticed.

Jake was on the bed, still reclined against the pillows, glass in hand and smile on his lips. Ethan and Sierra were across the room, joking about something she couldn't hear, their voices low, intimate.

Then Sierra glanced up, saw Claire, and froze mid-sentence.

Ethan turned next.

His voice cut off entirely.

And then Jake looked. And his entire face changed.

"Holy shit," he breathed, sitting up straighter, eyes wide and locked on her like he was seeing her for the first time.

Claire stopped just a few steps inside the room. The sheer lace slip caught the warm light, showing every soft curve of her breasts and the slight dip of her waist, the swell of her hips just barely traced by the shadow of the panties beneath.

She felt naked. Not exposed, not embarrassed; aware.

Jake blinked, then smiled, slow and stunned, all pride and hunger.

"You look..." His voice dropped a full octave. "Jesus, Claire. You look incredible."

She gave him a small, sly smile.

Then she turned to grab a blanket from the nearby chair pretending to do it for modesty's sake but not before she caught it.

Ethan, shifting on the couch.

Trying not to.

His jeans strained slightly across his thighs, the outline of his cock clearly visible against the fabric. Long. Thick. Impossible to miss.

He'd tried to cross one leg. Then the other. Settled for leaning forward with his elbows on his knees like it was casual.

It wasn't.

Claire's mouth went dry.

Sierra, to her credit, was doing her best not to smirk, but she wasn't oblivious. She gave Claire a look that said told you soand made a show of adjusting the strap of her dress.

Jake didn't notice the bulge. Or pretended not to.

His eyes were still on her. Completely, reverently on her. He reached out, hand extended like he needed to touch her just to confirm she was real.

Claire moved to sit beside him, letting the blanket drape lightly over her thighs, but she didn't pull it higher.

She let the lace whisper against her skin. Let the room see what it saw.

Jake leaned in, voice low. "You did this for me?"

She hesitated just long enough to be truthful.

"Yes," she whispered. "And maybe a little for me."

Jake brushed a hand over her thigh. His fingertips lingered, slow and reverent, not quite rising higher.

Across the room, Ethan shifted again. His gaze flicked to her legs, then to Jake's hand.

Claire felt it again, like a current in the air, humming just below conversation.

She turned her head slightly, just enough to catch Ethan's eye. Held it for half a second longer than she should have.

His jaw flexed.

She looked away.

Jake leaned in, his mouth brushing her ear. "You're going to drive me crazy."

"Maybe that's the point," she murmured back.

Sierra cleared her throat with a smirk. "Well. This room just got a whole lot warmer."

Jake laughed, but his hand tightened slightly on Claire's thigh.

"Don't mind us," Ethan said, voice hoarse but playful. "We'll just be over here. Enjoying the view."

Claire's pulse quickened--but she smiled. Sweet. Innocent. Dangerous.

Jake didn't move his hand.

And for the first time all night, Claire didn't mind being watched.

The room hummed.

Jake's fingers moved absently over Claire's thigh, stroking the same few inches in lazy, appreciative loops. The snow was falling heavier.

Claire leaned into Jake's shoulder, the weight of his arm around her a comforting anchor. For a few long moments, her thoughts were still.

Not about Ethan. Not about Sierra. Not even about the wine or the slip of lace that now clung damply to her skin.

Just Jake.

Her husband. Her partner. The man she'd chosen, and who still looked at her like she was the only woman in the world, even with another pair of eyes (and maybe two) trying not to stare from across the room.

She tilted her head up to him, whispering, "Do you still want to try?"

Jake's gaze met hers, sharp and soft all at once.

"Always," he said, voice rough.

That was all the answer she needed.

Claire shifted, letting the blanket fall from her lap as she turned to straddle Jake's hips. The slip rode up over her thighs. The sheer lace left nothing to the imagination, but she didn't pull it down. Not anymore.

She felt him stir beneath her, already hardening.

Somewhere in the room, someone's breath hitched.

Claire didn't look.

Jake's hands landed on her waist, gripping with sudden urgency. She kissed him, deeply, hungrily, then pulled back just enough to say, "I want you to come inside me."

Jake's throat bobbed with a swallow.

"They can watch if they want."

She meant it. Every word.

She reached between them, slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs. She didn't rush. She reveled.

Jake's cock sprang free. Not massive, not like Ethan, but familiar, warm, and thick in her hand. Hers. The one that would fill her, that should fill her tonight. That she would make sure of.

She stroked him slowly, her gaze never leaving his face at first.

But then Claire glanced sideways and saw it:

Ethan, legs slightly apart, lips parted, trying so hard not to look and failing miserably. His cock still strained hard against the front of his jeans, now even more obvious.

Claire's pulse fluttered.

She leaned down and licked a slow line up Jake's shaft.

Her lips were on Jake, but her eyes were on Ethan.

Jake groaned, hand gripping her hair.

Claire didn't stop. She wrapped her lips around him, tongue teasing the underside, just the way he liked. And she let herself feel it--not just the weight in her mouth, but the weight of their gaze. The heat of it.

Her hips rolled slowly against his thigh as she bobbed her head, letting herself get lost in the performance. Not for them, not entirely, but not just for Jake either.

She wanted to be seen. Worshipped. Desired.

Claimed.

Jake's voice was low, strained. "Fuck, Claire..."

She pulled off him just long enough to say, "You're going to come inside me tonight."

His eyes darkened.

Claire kissed the tip, then looked sideways again, this time, directly at Ethan.

He held her gaze.

Hard.

Watching her lips glisten. Watching her touch the man she was going to let breed her.

And Claire smiled.

Claire's lips still tingled from where they'd wrapped around her husband's cock, her mouth slick, breath shallow. She stroked him lazily now, relishing the weight of him in her hand, the man who would fill her, who would finish what this night had started.

But something was pulling at her. Drawing her eyes to the other side of the room like gravity.

Ethan.

He hadn't spoken since she'd started. Had barely moved, except to shift in his seat, again and again, each time his arousal becoming more obvious, more desperate to be freed.

Now he stood up. Slowly.

His eyes flicked to Jake's, then Claire's, as if asking, not permission exactly, but acknowledgment.

Then, without a word, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down.

Claire stopped moving.

His boxer briefs tented so obscenely that the fabric looked like it might fail trying to contain him. He hesitated, then peeled them down too.

What emerged made Claire's mouth part in an audible exhale.

Ethan's cock was... monstrous. Long and thick, already slick at the tip, pulsing with each breath he took. Heavy enough to rest against his thigh. There was no hiding it now, and he wasn't trying.

Jake let out a soft, stunned laugh beside her. "Jesus Christ..."

Claire didn't speak.

Couldn't.

Her eyes were glued to Ethan, wide and unblinking.

Jake noticed.

He leaned forward, cock still twitching in Claire's hand, and murmured, "You've always wondered about him, haven't you?"

Claire's cheeks flushed. She shook her head, but the lie didn't land.

Jake tilted his head. "Be honest."

Claire hesitated. "Maybe... once."

Jake's voice was low, curious. "And now?"

She swallowed hard. "Now I want to know what he feels like."

Jake's breath hitched.

Across the room, Sierra, quiet until now, rose from the couch and stepped beside Ethan. She was biting her lip, watching Claire as much as her boyfriend.

Jake turned his eyes to Sierra. "You okay with sharing?"

Sierra's brows lifted. Then she smiled.

"Only if I get to watch her touch him first."

Claire's heart thudded like a drum.

She looked at Jake, wide-eyed, waiting for the joke.

It didn't come.

Instead, he reached out, gently guiding her hand off his cock, and nodding toward Ethan's.

Claire blinked.

"You sure?" she whispered.

Jake's smile was tight, burning with lust. "Touch him. I want to see you wrap your fingers around something that big. Just once."

Claire stood, legs trembling slightly. She crossed the room on instinct, eyes locked on the obscene length jutting from Ethan's body. When she reached him, he didn't move. Just looked down at her with quiet intensity.

Her hand rose. Slid over the shaft slowly.

He groaned.

She gasped.

It was hot, thick, alive under her palm, heavier than Jake, harder, longer than she'd ever held.

She heard Jake behind her. "That's it... Look at you."

Claire didn't look back.

She just stroked.

Up and down.

Watching Ethan's face tighten, her own body pulsing with each twitch of the thick cock in her grip.

Sierra moved behind her and whispered, "Told you this would be fun."

Claire didn't answer.

She was too busy imagining what it might feel like inside her.

Even as Jake reminded her, from across the room:

"That one doesn't get you pregnant."

Not yet.

Claire's fingers moved with reverence, not urgency. Ethan's cock felt impossibly hard in her hand, the kind of thickness that demanded both attention and caution. She slid her palm upward again, watching a bead of slickness roll down from the tip, catching the light.

Behind her, she heard Jake rise from the bed. The soft pad of his feet on the carpet. He didn't stop her. He didn't pull her back. If anything, the sound of his low, controlled breathing only spurred her on.

Then another hand joined hers.

Claire looked up.

Sierra had moved closer. Casual, confident, like this was all part of some unspoken plan. Her fingers curled gently around the base of Ethan's shaft, just below Claire's. They stroked in tandem, a slow, sensual rhythm.

Claire's eyes widened, but Sierra only smiled. "Takes more than one hand anyway," she murmured, her tone half-teasing, half-provocative.

And then a third hand.

Jake.

His fingers brushed against Claire's as he joined them, wrapping lightly around the thick, pulsing length. Claire glanced over her shoulder. His eyes weren't on Ethan.

They were on her.

She didn't know what stunned her more, that he touched another man's cock without hesitation, or that he did it while smiling at her, proud, turned on, in love.

"This is yours tonight," Jake said softly, almost reverently, like he was offering her something sacred. "Whatever you want."

Claire swallowed hard. Her hand moved again, sandwiched now between Sierra's and Jake's. She felt the heat of their skin. The shared pressure. The way Ethan's hips twitched beneath the attention.

She looked up at Ethan.

His face was flushed, jaw clenched, eyes blown wide with lust. But he didn't speak. He just watched her.

Only her.

Her mouth parted, and for the briefest moment she imagined it. Not just touching, but tasting. Lowering herself to her knees and letting this monster fill her throat while Jake watched from behind, whispering how filthy she looked. How proud he was.

Claire blinked, trying to steady herself.

But she wasn't embarrassed.

Not anymore.

She was ready.

Claire lowered herself slowly.

She felt Jake's hands on her hips as she knelt between Ethan's legs. A hum buzzed in her ears, not from nerves. Those were long gone. But from pure, pulsing arousal. She was so wet she could feel the slip of moisture between her thighs with every movement.

Ethan's cock stood tall before her, flushed and twitching, still glistening from their shared touch.

She met his eyes as she leaned forward, then let her tongue flick against the tip.

Ethan groaned. A raw, broken sound. Jake's fingers tightened around her waist like he felt it too.

Claire parted her lips and took him in slowly, her mouth stretching around the impossible girth. It didn't all fit. Not close. But she savored what she could. Sucking, swirling, teasing.. until she heard movement beside her.

Sierra knelt down next to her.

There was a silent agreement as Claire pulled back and Sierra leaned in, taking Ethan deep into her throat like it was second nature.

Claire watched, mesmerized, as Sierra worked him with practiced confidence. The sound of her soft gags, the flex of her throat, it made Claire ache with the desire to do it again. Better.

When Sierra pulled back, gasping lightly, Claire moved in again. Her turn. She wanted to impress. To make them all feel just how far gone she was.

And then..

Jake knelt behind her.

Claire felt his hands tug her hips back, her ass lifting, legs spreading instinctively. Her panties were soaked, nearly see through, and he peeled them down slowly, like he was unwrapping a prize. His cock pressed hard against her backside, and then, without warning, he slid inside.

Claire moaned around Ethan's cock, the thick head hitting the back of her throat just as Jake filled her from behind.

It was too much. And not enough.

Jake groaned behind her. "Fuck, Claire..."

Her body rocked between them. Mouth full, pussy clenched around the man who would get her pregnant tonight.

Sierra's voice came soft and teasing. "God, you look perfect like this." She played with Claire's hair.

Claire flushed, not from shame but from power.

She pulled off Ethan with a gasp, eyes watering slightly, spit glistening on her lips. "You taste... dangerous.."

Sierra grinned and leaned in to clean the tip with her tongue before taking him in again, moaning as she sucked.

Jake's thrusts grew sharper.

Claire's head fell forward as she felt herself being pushed closer to the edge, her mouth finding Ethan's shaft again between Sierra's turns. Sharing him.

Jake's voice was low and strained. "He's not the one who's gonna fill you, Claire."

She moaned around the cock in her mouth.

And for the first time, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be filled just once tonight.

Claire was gasping now, her mouth wet, her thighs trembling.

Jake's thrusts behind her were steady and possessive. Each one pushing her forward slightly, just enough to make her lips brush Ethan's length again. She let it happen. Welcomed it. Her tongue darted out to taste what Sierra had just licked clean.

She was being filled and surrounded. Touched and praised. Claimed, yet offered.

And it still wasn't enough.

Ethan's cock stood proud and slick in front of her, throbbing. It hadn't softened for a second. Not with Sierra's mouth, and not even with Claire's wrapped around it. And now, every time Jake pushed inside her, the image of herself riding Ethan burst behind her eyes like a spark.

She wanted to feel that thickness. All of it. Stretching her. Reaching places Jake couldn't. She knew it would hurt.. at first. But the ache she imagined made her clench around Jake harder.

He must've felt it.

Jake groaned low behind her. "You like this too much."

Claire opened her mouth but no sound came out. Her body answered for her, bucking back against him, rolling her hips down to take him deeper. But her gaze never left Ethan's cock.

She could ride it. Slide down slow, ease herself onto it inch by inch. Let Jake watch her stretch open around another man, just once. Just to see what it felt like. Just to feed the need.

Jake's voice came again, lower this time. "You keep looking at him."

Claire licked her lips. "He's just so... big."

Jake's thrusts slowed.

Claire braced herself.

"Say what you're thinking," Jake murmured.

Her throat tightened. "I want to try him."

There. It was out. Floating between them like a secret no longer secret.

Claire turned her head, looking at Jake over her shoulder. She needed his eyes. Needed to know if this was the moment everything would stop, or the moment it would shift forever.

Jake stared at her. And then..

A slow smile.

"You want to ride him?"

Claire's breath hitched. She nodded.

Jake leaned forward, lips brushing her ear. "Then you'll ride him."

Claire's heart nearly stopped.

Jake pulled out of her slowly, groaning at the loss of contact. Her legs trembled as she knelt there, open, dripping, caught between anticipation and disbelief.

Then he looked up at Ethan.

"Think you can handle her?"

Ethan's eyes burned. "Only if she says yes."

Claire looked between them both.

And whispered, "Yes."

Claire moved slowly, as if in a dream. Her knees trembled slightly as she straddled Ethan's hips on the edge of the bed, the thick head of his cock brushing her inner thigh like a promise.

Ethan lay beneath her, chest rising and falling in tight waves. His hands were on her thighs but not pushing. Just resting, grounding. Waiting. She could feel the tension rolling off him, the restraint.

Jake stood behind her, naked, flushed, breathless. His cock still slick from her body, standing tall and ready, positioned like a shadow behind her, close enough to step in, but not yet. Not unless she wanted him to.

Sierra knelt beside them, her palm pressed lightly to Claire's back. "Slow," she murmured. "He's a lot."

Claire nodded, breath shallow, her body pulsing between nerves and need. The tip of Ethan's cock kissed her entrance as she guided it with her hand. Slick, heavy, hot.

Jake leaned in closer, one hand on her waist, the other moving to help. Together, he and Sierra angled her hips just right. He looked down between them, voice low with awe. "You're going to take him... fuck, Claire..."

She met Jake's eyes for a beat. "I want it."

Jake kissed her shoulder. "Then take it."

Claire lowered herself slowly.

The thick head pressed against her.. then in.

Her body stretched around him immediately, breath catching as the first inches pushed into her. It wasn't pain exactly, it was pressure. A slow, breathtaking invasion.

Sierra exhaled. "God, you're really doing it."

Jake watched every inch disappear. His hand slid to Claire's belly, palm resting there like he was already thinking about filling her again. "That's it, baby. Stretch around him. Take him deep."

Claire whimpered, forcing her hips down farther. More of him entered her, thicker, longer, hotter than anything she'd taken before.

She paused halfway, panting, already trembling.

Jake's hands slid to her breasts, holding her up, helping her breathe. "You've got this. All of him, when you're ready."

And she was.

She lowered herself fully, inch by thick inch, until her thighs met Ethan's and the impossible cock inside her pulsed deep and full.

She gasped.

Ethan groaned.

Jake's grip tightened.

Claire blinked down at Ethan, wide-eyed and slightly dizzy. "You're inside me."

He nodded, voice thick. "All of me, too."

Claire rolled her hips slightly, testing the depth. Her body sang with the fullness, the stretch, the rightness.

And behind her, she felt Jake, still hard, still close, position himself just behind her entrance.

Ready.

Waiting.

But not forcing.

Claire turned her head, hair sticking to her damp cheeks. She looked between the two men, the one buried deep inside her, and the one ready to reclaim her, and felt something click.

Power.

She was the one in control now.

And for the first time in her life, she wanted them both.

Claire began to move.

Tentatively at first, lifting herself just a few inches, then sinking back down with a shudder. The fullness was dizzying, her walls clenching with each stretch, each slow descent. Ethan grunted beneath her, his hands gripping the sheets as he fought to stay still.

"Take your time," Jake murmured, his voice thick behind her. "He's not going anywhere."

But Claire didn't want to take her time.

She wanted to feel everything.

She rolled her hips, rising and falling again, then again, building a rhythm that pushed Ethan deeper, faster. Her breath came in quick pants now, and the wet sounds of her body taking him filled the room with every bounce.

Ethan's head fell back, jaw tight. "Jesus, Claire..."

That only spurred her on.

And behind her, Jake still hadn't moved. He was watching. His cock rested against her lower back, still hard, still flushed, but pulsing now. Needy. She felt it every time she rocked back, a reminder that he was next.

And Sierra noticed too.

She leaned into Jake, one hand sliding down his stomach. Without a word, she wrapped her fingers around him and began stroking. Slow, smooth, measured. Her eyes were fixed on Claire the entire time.

"You like watching her ride him?" she whispered, lips brushing Jake's ear. "She looks so full."

Jake groaned, hips flexing into her hand. "She's perfect."

Claire heard them, and moaned louder. The thrill of it all hit her in waves: being watched, being filled, being shared. She didn't feel dirty.

She felt worshipped.

Sierra's other hand slid up Claire's back, fingers trailing light and electric. "You're taking him so well. You look like you were made for this."

Claire dropped harder onto Ethan's cock, burying him to the base. Her head fell back, chest heaving, and she locked eyes with Jake.

"Do you want me back?" she asked, voice hoarse with pleasure.

Jake's hands found her waist, steadying her rhythm. "I want you soaked."

She bounced harder.

Faster.

Ethan was panting beneath her now, his control slipping.

Claire leaned forward, hands braced on his chest, her body rolling, grinding, taking all of him. Her moans filled the room, shameless and raw.

And as Sierra kept Jake throbbing hard behind her, Claire knew.

She wasn't just going to finish on Ethan.

She wanted to be filled by him.

And then taken again by her husband.

Claimed twice.

Owned completely.

And still... in control.

Claire was shaking.

From pleasure. From power. From the sheer, dizzying fullness of being stretched around Ethan's cock while Jake hovered behind her, watching her come undone.

She could feel Ethan's restraint fraying with every stroke. His hands had found her hips now, gripping tighter, trying not to thrust up into her with everything he had. Sweat glistened on his chest. His jaw was clenched. His eyes were locked on hers like she was the only thing keeping him tethered.

But Claire wasn't holding back anymore.

She rolled her hips harder, riding him deep and fast, chasing the quake building in her belly. Her breasts bounced with every impact. Her thighs trembled, slick and wide, and every sound she made came out as a moan or a plea.

"Fuck, Claire," Ethan gasped, voice ragged. "I'm not gonna last..."

Behind her, Jake groaned, still rock-hard in Sierra's fist. His eyes were glassy with arousal, locked on the place where Claire's body swallowed Ethan over and over.

She looked over her shoulder and met Jake's gaze.

And said it.

"I want it."

Jake blinked. "What?"

Claire bit her lip, voice trembling with need. "I want him to come in me."

Sierra gasped softly behind her, still stroking Jake.

Claire didn't stop moving, if anything, she rode harder.

"I want to feel him pulse inside me, and I want you to see it. I want you to know what it looks like when I'm filled."

Jake cursed under his breath, his cock twitching in Sierra's hand.

Ethan groaned like he'd been shot.

Claire's voice broke. "And then I want you to take me. I want you to finish inside me right after. I want to be filled to the fucking brim."

She was past pretending. Past teasing. Every buried fantasy she'd ever stuffed away had ripped to the surface, bold and shining.

She was claiming them now, both of them.

Jake moved behind her, guiding his cock between her thighs, ready to follow the moment Ethan spilled into her. He kissed her spine, his voice low and reverent. "You'll get every drop, baby."

Claire slammed down on Ethan, crying out as her orgasm ripped through her like lightning.

Ethan bucked under her with a groan, hands digging into her hips as his cock pulsed, hard and deep, and Claire felt it, every throb, every twitch, every hot surge of his release spilling inside her.

She gasped.

She didn't stop grinding.

And when she felt him soften slightly within her, she lifted herself just enough to let Jake take his place.

"Now," she whispered, breathless and burning. "Fill me again."

Claire barely had time to breathe before Jake was there.

Ethan's length slipped free from her with a wet sound, leaving her open, stretched, and dripping. Claire moaned as she felt the heat of his release slide down her inner thighs, slick and warm. Her body trembled, still clenching around the ghost of his cock.

But Jake wasn't giving her a moment longer.

His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging in as he angled his cock to her entrance. She was soaked, ready, and flushed red with arousal, her skin buzzing. She could feel how hard Jake was. Throbbing, aching, pushed to the edge from watching it all.

He growled low behind her. "Mine."

Then he drove into her in one deep, claiming thrust.

Claire gasped louder than she'd meant to, as Jake's cock filled the space Ethan had just left. It was so different, familiar but possessive, not quite as thick, but hungry and raw. He was fucking her like he needed to mark her, like he had to prove something to all of them, and especially to her.

She pushed back to meet every thrust, the slick mixture of her arousal and Ethan's cum making it effortless, messy, filthy.

"Jesus, Claire," Jake grunted, pounding into her. She fell forward.

Claire cried out, her cheek pressed to Ethan's chest, her fingers digging into his skin as Jake took her harder, faster. She could feel every stroke, every desperate push. She could hear the wet slap of bodies, the breathless gasps, the chorus of arousal from Sierra watching just inches away.

"Say it again," Jake growled. "Tell me what you wanted."

Claire choked out the words. "I wanted both of you. Inside me."

Jake groaned, his rhythm faltering. "You're fucking perfect."

Sierra reached down to Claire's belly again, palm flat, like she was feeling the fullness. "He's deep," she whispered. "Right where he needs to be."

Claire's whole body was on fire. Her legs were trembling. Her core was spasming, trying to milk Jake even as the lingering heat of Ethan's release coated her inside.

She was being bred. Twice.

And she loved it.

Jake's pace grew brutal, his hands gripping her tighter as he neared the edge. "You're going to take me now, too," he rasped. "Right on top of him. Gonna fill you up until you can't hold another drop."

Claire sobbed out a moan, already so close again.

"Do it," she begged. "Claim me. Make sure it's yours."

Jake thrust once, twice, then slammed deep and held. His body locking against hers as he pulsed inside, spilling everything he had.

Claire shattered.

Her orgasm crashed through her again, blinding and white hot. She was full. Stuffed. Used. Claimed.

And she'd never felt more alive.

The room was quiet now, the air still heavy with heat and sweat and the lingering scent of sex.

Claire lay sprawled across Ethan's chest, her skin dewy, her body thrumming with exhaustion and something softer. Satisfaction. Jake sat beside them, one arm lazily draped around her shoulders, the other hand resting possessively on her thigh.

Ethan's cock had softened long ago, now damp with the shared mess they'd created. Claire slowly lifted herself off him with a breathy sigh, feeling the slide of fluids trail down her legs as she shifted.

She glanced down at Ethan's length, still impressive, even now, and couldn't help but reach out.

Her fingers gently curled around his softened shaft. Playful.

"Still incredible," she murmured, stroking him slowly, lazily, her touch more affectionate than lustful now.

Ethan gave a sheepish laugh. "You're not so bad yourself."

Claire leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip, a soft and final thank you.

Then she rose and crawled back into Jake's arms, curling into his warmth.

"Thank you," she said, voice low and genuine. "For sharing. For letting me go there."

Jake kissed the top of her head. "You were never more mine than you were tonight."

Sierra flopped onto the bed beside them, tousled and glowing. "Next time," she said with a mock pout, "I want a turn. That was torture."

Claire laughed, head tilting toward her. "Hopefully everyone's still into group sex when I'm round and glowing."

Sierra grinned. "Are you kidding? I have a thing for pregnant girls. Especially the slutty ones."

Claire raised a brow. "Perfect. Because I have a feeling that's exactly what I'm becoming."

Ethan stretched an arm behind his head, still catching his breath. "I really liked... when all of you were touching me. That moment. I've never felt anything like it."

He hesitated, glancing at Jake. "Certainly no guy's ever touched me before."

Jake smirked but didn't look away. "You didn't seem to mind."

"I didn't," Ethan said.

Claire reached across Jake to tap his chest lightly. "Maybe next time you go a little further. I'd love to watch that."

Jake chuckled. "We'll see."

Claire nestled into Jake's side, her body utterly spent, her mind buzzing with the images they'd created together. She felt owned, adored, shared. And finally, fully herself.

Sierra and Ethan pulled the blankets over the four of them, limbs tangled without hesitation. No shame. No awkwardness.

Just warmth.

Laughter.

Possibility.

And as sleep slowly claimed them, Claire smiled into Jake's chest and sarcastically whispered, "I told you it was a good idea to invite them back.."