What She Brought Home

**Author's note**

There's guilt here. A need to make amends. But Tasha doesn't apologise with words - she brings him a young, tight, inexperienced, but sexy offering and watches him take it. She wanted to give him everything. And she did. Right there in front of her.

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The kitchen was quiet, lit only by the soft glow from under the cabinets and the flicker of a candle burning low on the table. The bottle of red between them was nearly empty. Two glasses. Her bare feet curled on the chair. His long legs stretched out, one sock half off.

It was late, and it should've been perfect.

Tasha laughed softly at something he said, one of those low, easy chuckles she'd mastered over years of loving him. But her eyes didn't quite crinkle at the corners the way they used to. And when the moment passed, so did the warmth.

Ben leaned back in his chair. Shirt unbuttoned. Forearms bare. His hair was messy - the kind of mess she loved - and a shadow of stubble was claiming his jaw. He looked so fucking good it almost hurt.

Something ached, because she'd broken the rules.

It wasn't the sex. Not really. They both loved the game, the push and pull, the flirt and the fuck. They'd built a life on trust and kink and carefully drawn boundaries. But this time - in the hotel, on that business trip - she'd crossed one.

No permission or preview. No Ben.

He'd told her it was fine. That she looked incredible. That he loved hearing about it afterward. But deep in her gut, Tasha knew the difference between "fine" and fine.

Whatever this was it wasn't right.

She watched him sip his wine. His fingers curled around the glass, veins shifting under the skin making his tattoos move as though alive, his wedding band catching the light. The man she'd loved for years. Fucked in every room of their house. Shared everything with.

She wanted to say something, wanted to close the distance. But it was like a thin veil hung between them - transparent, but there.

Ben stood first, yawning, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm heading up," he said. "You staying?"

"For a bit."

He nodded. Kissed the top of her head. Just a light brush.

She closed her eyes.

She sat in the quiet for a while longer, tracing the lip of her wine glass with one finger. Her mind turning in slow, heavy circles.

They'd lived the kind of lifestyle they did - the sex, the swapping, the watching - for years. But it had always been based on a simple set of rules. The biggest of which was all decisions together.

She'd broken that. Carried away in the moment, looking for ways to test him, push him further. She'd fucked up, and she knew it.

Eventually, she padded upstairs. She paused in the doorway to their bedroom.

He was half-undressed already - jeans off, standing in front of the mirror, bare chest and boxer briefs, his broad back turned to her. The muscles in his shoulders shifted as he rubbed moisturiser into his forearms.

She stared. Even now, her body stirred. Her pussy burned just watching him.

God he was beautiful, she thought to herself.

He caught her eye in the mirror.

"You okay?" he asked.

Tasha smiled. The kind you wear when you're trying to mean it but struggling to make it believable.

"Yeah. Just tired."

Ben nodded. He didn't push.

He climbed into bed, and flicked off the lamp on his side. She could hear his breathing shift. The rustle of sheets as he turned toward the wall.

She undressed slowly. Slipped beneath the duvet, staring at the ceiling.

Her body was warm and restless. She reached down and touched herself absently, fingertips grazing her clit. No real intention. Just needing to feel something.

But it didn't take, not without him. They'd had sex since then, but something had been missing. Not a lot, but enough for it to feel different. Somehow incomplete.

Tasha lay there in the dark, eyes wide open, heartbeat steady but hurting.

She had to make this right. But she didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to show him.

***

The following morning the sun bled in slow through the blinds, warm and pale, catching on the edge of the bedding. Tasha woke before him - which itself was rare - and lay still for a minute, listening to Ben breathe.

His arm was flung over his pillow. His mouth slightly open. Hair still messy from sleep. The covers half off, revealing a bare hip and the start of that thick morning bulge pressing into the duvet.

He looked peaceful. Untouched by the thoughts that had churned through her all night.

She reached over and gently touched his forearm. Just enough to feel him. Then she slipped out of bed.

They moved around each other in the kitchen like a couple who knew the routine - coffee, toast, the clink of mugs.

It was familiar and comfortable. But it was not quite them.

Tasha leaned against the counter in her robe, cradling her coffee, watching Ben skim his phone at the table.

She hesitated. Then cleared her throat.

"I was thinking about going out tonight," she said, casually as she could. "Jess and Elle are maybe doing that trance night at Thirty9."

Ben looked up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She didn't say "are you okay with that?" - but it was written all over her face.

Ben's expression didn't shift much. Just a faint, neutral nod.

"It's cool. You've not been out in a while."

"You sure you're ok with it?"

He looked at her properly now, holding her gaze.

"Tash... it's fine. Go. Have fun."

She gave a small smile. Not because she fully believed him, but because she wanted to.

"Okay," she said softly. "I might wear something sexy. Something for you to think about while I'm out and look forward to when I get back."

Ben smirked. "I'd expect nothing less."

He went back to his phone, while Tasha went back to pretending that everything was just fine.

***

The club was busy, loud and hot. People intoxicated on the alcohol and the music, dancing like they were barely in control.

Low light bathed the place, all red and violet pulses - like being inside a heartbeat. The bass hit deep, thudding through the floor like a second pulse in her chest. Synth arpeggios danced overhead, hypnotic and ghostlike.

Tasha stood near the bar, one elbow resting casually, her other hand curled around a bottle of something colourful and sweet but packing a potent punch. She wasn't in the throngs of the crowd, not yet, though her friends were. She was watching it all, letting the night wash over. She'd come to lose herself, to feel herself again.

To feel alive.

A black leather mini skirt clung tight around her hips, the hem cut sharp across her thighs. Knee-high stiletto boots, patent and textured, caught the flashes of light like wet glass. She wore a red turtleneck that was bold and body-hugging. Partly demure, showing no cleavage, but leaving little to the imagination with the way it cupped her tits in a way that dared attention.

It received it - in waves.

Men turned. Girls glanced.

Eyes flickered, trailed, then looked away too slowly.

She sipped her drink and let them look.

Tasha was in her early forties, but walked with the heat and confidence of a woman who'd only gotten better - and filthier - with age. Tall, toned, and curvy in all the right ways, her figure turned heads without ever begging for attention. Her tits were huge, natural, and proudly unhidden beneath that tight red top - a body that made people stare and wonder if they could handle her.

Most couldn't.

Her hair was dark and long, worn loose over her shoulders with just enough wave to look like it had been styled to fall out of place. Ink curled along one thigh, peeking from under her skirt - and there were others, glimpsed at her wrist, another unseen on her back. She had only one piercing - her right nipple, a bar that made her shirts stretch tighter than they already did.

She was sex, unapologised for.

But tonight, she was on her best behaviour.

It was maybe a good 10 minutes later, as the track shifted - something with a heavier beat and a dirtier rhythm - that the girl appeared beside her.

Not dramatically. She just slid into the space at the bar, close enough to touch, and leaned over slightly to try to catch the bartender's attention.

Tasha noticed her first as movement. Then shape.

She was petite, toned and with bare legs. A denim micro skirt sat low on her hips, frayed at the hem. Her white vest top clung to her chest - no bra, nipples just visible under fabric.

"You waiting too?" the girl asked, glancing at her sideways. Her voice was soft, but raised slightly to be heard.

Tasha looked at her fully for the first time.

Big brown eyes. Flushed cheeks. Full lips. She was pretty in a slightly unconventional sort of way, and looked like she could only just be legally old enough to be in a place like this. Light brown hair fell around her shoulders.

"Apparently," Tasha said, nodding toward the bartender still busy pouring mixers at the far end.

The girl gave a sheepish smile. "I always pick the wrong place to stand. Or I'm invisible."

Tasha arched an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "You're definitely not invisible."

That made her laugh - a breathy, relieved sound. She brushed hair from her face and bit her lip.

"I like your outfit," she said, a moment later. "You look..." She trailed off, as if searching for the right word. "... hot."

Tasha's smile deepened, something sly and just short of indulgent. She enjoyed the compliment.

"Thanks. You're not doing so bad yourself."

The bartender finally made his way over. The girl ordered a bottle of a vodka-based drink.

"Are you here with anyone?" the girl asked, casually, taking her drink.

"Sort of," Tasha said. "Here with a couple of friends. But they're off dancing and probably on the pull. How 'bout you?"

"Alone," the girl said, taking a swig from her bottle. She licked a little moisture from her lower lip.

"I'm Chloe, by the way," she said now. "Sorry. Should've said."

"Tasha."

The names hung between them. Another wave of bass rolled through the club.

"You come here often?" Chloe asked, lips twitching at her own cliché.

Tasha laughed softly. "Not really. Not lately. Just... needed a night."

"Same."

She paused, swirling her drink in its bottle.

"My ex used to hate places like this. Said it was full of desperate people trying to fuck strangers."

"And now?" Tasha asked.

Chloe shrugged. "Now I kind of wish I'd fucked a few strangers."

Tasha let the words settle for a moment. Chloe had said them lightly, offhand almost - but they had carried something behind them. A flicker of heat, or maybe a flicker of hurt.

She turned slightly, facing her more directly now. One boot angled across the floor between them, her own drink still in hand.

"Sounds like there's a story there."

Chloe smiled into her drink. "Isn't there always?"

Tasha didn't answer. Just waited.

Chloe exhaled softly. Not dramatic, just letting go.

"We were together six years," she said. "Since school. He was my first. My only."

Tasha's brow lifted slightly.

Chloe caught the look and grinned.

"I know. Fucking tragic, right? Nearly 22 and only been with one bloke."

"It's not tragic," Tasha said. "It's just... limited."

That made Chloe laugh. "Exactly."

She took another sip, then leaned back against the bar beside Tasha, shoulders just brushing.

"I thought I knew him. I thought I was doing everything right. We didn't argue. We fucked often enough. We planned things. And then he tells me he's been screwing some older woman. Like, a proper grown woman. Mortgage, job, the works."

Chloe laughed again, but there was a bitter edge to it. "Guess she showed him what real sex was like."

Tasha tilted her "Did she?"

Chloe looked over, eyes sparking now. "You tell me. You ever steal someone's man?"

Tasha gave a slightly rueful smile. "No. But I've borrowed a few."

That made Chloe go quiet for a second. Tasha let the silence hold.

Then Chloe looked up. "You married, yeah?"

"I am."

"But here without him."

Tasha nodded. "He knows where I am."

"So you're allowed to... borrow people?"

"Sometimes. If the mood's right. If the rules are respected."

Chloe leaned in a little, her voice lower now.

"What kind of rules?"

Tasha took a slow sip of her own drink, watching her over the rim of the bottle.

"Talk first. No surprises. Always protection."

Chloe's lips parted slightly. Her breath caught, not dramatic, just a hitch.

"And he's cool with that?"

"He is. He gets to join in," Tasha said. "Or watch. Though that's partly why I'm here alone. I broke one of our rules and I think he's still pissed at me."

Chloe looked stunned for a moment - wide-eyed and flushed.

"That's so fucking hot," she murmured. "Which rule did you break?"

Tasha's smile turned knowing and slightly sad. "I took a game too far, didn't ask permission before I fucked someone."

Chloe looked stunned.

"I'm guessing your ex wasn't built for that kind of arrangement," said Tasha - a statement rather than a question.

Chloe laughed nervously. "Please. The sex was so vanilla it barely qualified. He had an average cock and an ego way too big for it."

Tasha laughed. "Met plenty of them in my time," she said. "I'm just better at sniffing them out now and avoiding them.

She paused momentarily, then continued. "I'm very lucky, or I was, still am if I can put it back together. Ben's a diamond and we both love being adventurous. It's how we met, sort of, and it's always been our thing."

Tasha reached in her clutch bag for her phone, saying nothing at first. She just gave the faintest smile - the kind that curled at the corner of her mouth and hinted at all the things she wasn't saying.

Then unlocked her phone and started to scroll.

Chloe leaned in slightly, instinctively, not too close or invasive. Just... drawn.

The first image:

Ben in jeans and a grey shirt, sleeves pushed up, leaning against their kitchen counter with a glass of wine and a faint smile. Candid and handsome. The kind of man people noticed.

"That's him?" Chloe asked.

Tasha nodded. "That's him."

Swipe.

Ben again - shirtless now. Gym mirror, towel over one shoulder. Sweat on his chest, muscles lit in natural light, abs tight.

Chloe's eyes widened slightly. "Wow. Okay...."

Swipe.

Ben on the sofa. Casual. Boxers low on his hips. Thick thighs spread, hand resting just above his crotch. The outline of his cock visible - even soft, it looked heavy. Substantial.

"Oh my god," Chloe whispered, swallowing hard.

Tasha glanced at her, amused. "Oops, sorry," she said. "I didn't realise that one was next. Too much?"

Chloe shook her head quickly, her cheeks flushed.

"No. Not too much. He's... that's soft?"

"Mm-hm."

"Jesus. He's bigger than my ex was hard."

Tasha laughed. "Yeah, he's pretty fucking big."

Chloe didn't hesitate. "Show me."

Tasha paused for a moment - not for effect, but to consider. Then she scrolled again, showing Chloe another photo.

Ben hard this time. Thick, veined and very long.

His cock curving up from his groin, his hand wrapped around the base, the head flushed dark and proud. One of those angles that made your breath catch.

Chloe blinked. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed again like she'd forgotten how to speak.

"Fucking hell," she breathed, finally.

She took a small step back, like the image had pushed into her chest.

"That's... wow. He's huge."

Chloe was still staring. Her eyes flicked up, half-guilty. "Sorry, that's just... fuck. I think my pussy literally just twitched."

Tasha sipped her drink and laughed.

"He knows how to use it, too."

Chloe didn't say anything at first.

She just stood there, lips parted, staring down at the image like it had rewired something in her. One hand still loosely holding her drink, the other now resting on the edge of the bar, knuckles white.

Tasha watched her. She didn't press, just let the silence stretch.

Eventually, Chloe exhaled.

"Fuck me," she whispered.

Then, quickly, "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud."

Tasha raised one eyebrow, the curve of another smile ghosting her mouth.

"You alright?"

"I just..." Chloe swallowed. "I've never seen anything like that. Not... not in real life. Not attached to someone real."

She took another sip of her drink - a little too fast. Her cheeks were flushed now, her eyes glassier, her voice lower.

"He's...." she tried again. "He's beautiful. You both are."

Tasha inclined her head slightly. Accepted the compliment like a queen accepts an offering.

"And he's a real man," Chloe added. "Not like the boy I was with. I've never had anything like that - what's it like to fuck a cock like that?"

Tasha smiled. "Incredible," she said, truthfully.

Tasha didn't say anything else. Instead she let Chloe reach for it herself - which she did.

"I should probably fuck an older guy with a big cock like that," Chloe said, almost laughing at her own words. "Just... for the experience. If my prick of an ex could, why shouldn't I?"

Tasha turned to her fully now. Her body facing Chloe's, her drink resting on the bar behind her.

"Maybe you should."

Chloe met her eyes.

Tasha leaned in, just enough that Chloe could feel the heat of her breath.

"Maybe," Tasha murmured, "I've got one at home, waiting for you."

Chloe didn't speak, but she didn't step back either.

Her chest rose slightly. She didn't speak, but Tasha could see the thought forming behind her eyes: yes.

Tasha didn't press the moment. She let the silence settle, then she turned back toward the bar, picked up her bottle, and took a slow sip.

Chloe blinked, cheeks pink, her gaze flicking between Tasha's profile and her phone screen, dark now but with the image of Ben's cock ingrained in her mind.

She reached for her own drink and took a long pull.

When she spoke again, her voice was steadier.

"You always this direct?" she asked, playful now. Breathless but recovering.

Tasha smirked. "Only when I know it'll land. And I owe him something."

Chloe laughed softly - and this time, it wasn't nervous. It was electric.

They stood like that for a few moments, shoulder to shoulder, hips angled in, the club still vibrating around them. Lights strobed as the DJ shifted into a remix that thudded harder. Bodies writhed out on the floor like liquid silhouettes.

Tasha turned her head slightly. "You okay?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah. Just... processing."

"You want to talk yourself in to it, or out of it?" Tasha asked.

Chloe looked at her, held her gaze steady. "I'm trying to think of reasons to say no," she said. "But the truth is, I don't want to say no."

"Sure?"

Chloe's tongue darted across her bottom lip. She stepped half a pace closer, her voice softer, more intimate.

"I'm horny. I'm curious. And I'm definitely not going home to finger myself and regret not going with you."

Tasha grinned, looking pleased.

Chloe exhaled. "Fuck it. I'm in."

Tasha lifted her bottle, tapping it lightly against Chloe's. "To experience, then."

Chloe smiled. "To older men with massive cocks."

Tasha laughed. "And the women who bring them."

They downed the last of their drinks in sync, set them down, and turned toward the door.

***

The taxi smelled like cheap pine air freshener. It wasn't unpleasant, just the kind of smell you didn't notice until you did, and then couldn't shake it off.

Tasha slid in first, Chloe close behind. The door shut. The city blurred past. Bass still throbbed faintly in their ears from the club. Streetlights rolled over their bodies in flickers of gold and shadow.

Tasha's legs parted slightly as she settled back. Her skirt rode high on her thighs, leather creaking softly. Chloe's bare skin brushed against her, knees touching.

Neither of them moved away.

Chloe looked over. Her pupils wide, breathing soft. She bit her lip without realising.

Tasha reached into her clutch and pulled out her phone.

"You don't mind if I give him a little warning, do you?"

Chloe smiled nervously. "You mean Ben?"

Tasha nodded.

Chloe hesitated... then grinned. "Do it."

Tasha unlocked her phone. Scrolled to Ben.

Typed the first message:

"Hope you haven't had a wank tonight. You're gonna need everything you've got."

Sent.

She watched the typing bubble pop up almost instantly.

Ben:

"Should I be scared, worried or hard?"

Tasha laughed under her breath. "He's in."

She snapped a selfie, both of them in frame. Chloe smiling shyly, lips glossy, eyes bright. Tasha's arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

Sent.

Then another.

Chloe's vest top pulled down just a touch, just enough to show the swell of breast that shimmered faintly with sweat.

The caption:

"She's curious."

Then she leaned in close to Chloe.

"You trust me?"

Chloe swallowed. "Yes."

"Lift your top."

Chloe blushed, but did as she was asked.

Tasha leaned back slightly and took the shot. Topless. Chloe's small but perfect tits on full display. Nipples hard. The photo caught just enough vulnerability to make it devastatingly real.

Tasha caught the taxi driver stealing a glance in the rear-view mirror. She smiled at him, and winked.

She turned the phone so Chloe could see.

"Okay to send?"

Chloe nodded, her voice a whisper. "Send it."

Caption:

"She's wet just from looking at you."

Ben's reply took a few seconds longer this time.

"Jesus. Fucking hell, Tash."

Tasha smiled.

Then slowly, leisurely, she ran her hand up Chloe's thigh, fingers brushing the edge of her skirt.

"No knickers, right?"

Chloe shivered. "No."

Tasha leaned in, kissed her on the cheek, then slipped two fingers between her legs - just a tease, a soft graze across the lips of her pussy.

Then she pulled her fingers back and held them up between them.

"Wet."

Chloe's breath hitched.

Tasha took a photo. Chloe's pussy in full view now - parted thighs, trimmed mound, glistening.

Caption:

"She wants your cock tonight."

Send.

Ben's reply came almost instantly.

"Tell her to come. I'm fucking ready."

Chloe buried her face in her hands for a second, then peeked out, laughing breathlessly. Her voice cracked like sugar melting.

"I can't believe I'm doing this...."

Tasha's eyes glinted.

"Believe it, baby. He's real. And he's waiting for you."

The cab turned the corner.

Tasha leaned back, legs spread wide now, one hand resting on Chloe's thigh.

Neither said another word.

The cab slowed to a crawl, headlights sweeping across the front of the house.

Tasha leaned forward, cool and confident, and tapped the driver's shoulder, handing him a twenty.

She opened the door and as she did the night air hit her skin - cool, clean, cutting through the heat they'd built inside the cab. Chloe stepped out after her, legs shaky, heart pounding like a speaker in her chest.

Tasha led the way up the path, hips rolling slow, like she knew Chloe was watching every step.

They reached the door. Tasha paused and turned.

The street was quiet. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed. Chloe stood just behind her, looking suddenly very young, but not weak. Her eyes were wide, her mouth parted, her chest rising and falling like she'd been running.

Tasha stepped close.

Not to reassure her, but to feel her.

Her hands found Chloe's hips. Their faces close now, breath shared.

"Last chance," Tasha said, voice dark. "You sure you're in?"

Chloe didn't speak.

She stepped in close, chest rising against Tasha's. Her hands slid to the hem of Tasha's skirt, fingers tightening, breath catching.

For a beat, it felt like she might lean in, like her lips might brush against Tasha's, but she didn't.

Tasha just watched her, silent and smiling.

The air between them was thick with promise and permission that was unspoken but inevitable.

Tasha turned. She slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door open, looking back over her shoulder.

"You ready?"

Chloe nodded, no words left.

Tasha grinned.

"Good. Because he is," she said as she led her inside.

***

The front door eased open with a soft click, and the hallway lights cast a soft wash across the wooden floorboards.

Ben was already there, leaning casually against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, barefoot, dressed in black lounge shorts and a tight grey short-sleeve hoodie that clung to his chest and biceps. The hood was down, and his arms were crossed.

His eyes locked onto Tasha. Then Chloe. Then Tasha again.

He didn't smile. Didn't speak either at first. But his cock was already getting interested, the outline clear beneath the soft cotton of his shorts.

Tasha stepped aside, eyes glittering.

"I brought you a gift."

Ben's eyes flicked back to Chloe.

She stood just behind Tasha, small frame in the doorway. There was a moment, just half a heartbeat, where she hesitated. Then she stepped forward.

Close. Close enough to touch him. She looked up at him, eyes locked on his, lips parted, and leaned in with clear intent. She rose onto her toes, going for his mouth, body already pressing into his.

Ben caught her waist with firm hands and turned his head slightly - offering her his cheek instead.

She faltered, confused.

Tasha's voice cut through. "Uh uh, sweetheart."

Chloe turned slightly, eyes wide.

Tasha was just behind her.

"No kissing," she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "That mouth is mine."

Ben met Chloe's eyes again, and this time she understood.

She flushed with embarrassment but turned on all the same. So she adjusted.

She kissed his neck instead - her tongue grazing his skin, her hands sliding around his waist as her hips ground into his thigh.

Tasha smiled sweetly. "That's better. Upstairs," she said. "Now."

***

The bedroom was dim and warm. The room smelled like clean linen and shower gel. Chloe stood in the centre, staring at Ben, then glancing to Tasha, unsure.

Tasha moved first.

She walked to the armchair in the corner of the room and sat. Legs crossed, hands draped elegantly over the arms. Her skirt rode up just a little higher.

"I'm not here to play," she said.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "No?"

She smiled. "I want to watch you enjoy her."

Chloe let out a breath as Ben took a step forward, but Tasha stopped him with a word.

"Wait."

She looked at Chloe.

"Strip."

Chloe swallowed, then nodded.

Her fingers went to the hem of her vest top. She lifted it slowly, dragging it up over her stomach, then her chest. Her small tits bounced free - nipples hard and dark in the low light. She dropped the top to the floor.

She pushed her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and slid it down her legs. No knickers, just bare beneath.

Ben watched her the whole time, seated on the edge of the bed, whilst Tasha watched him.

His cock was straining now, pressed full against the front of his shorts.

Chloe moved forward, slowly, nervously but drawn - as though gravity was pulling her straight into him.

Tasha's voice stopped them again.

"No holding back," she said, aimed at Ben, as she uncrossed her legs.

"I want you to fuck her like you mean it."

Ben's eyes locked onto hers and his hands reached for Chloe.

***

Ben stood from the bed, slowly, and reached for the hem of his hoodie. He peeled it off in one smooth motion, tossing it aside, revealing the full breadth of his chest and arms. His body was cut from hard work rather than vanity. Veins rode high on his forearms. His abs flexed with every breath.

Chloe stared, breathless. Her lips parted, chest rising and falling.

He met her eyes.

"You alright?" he asked.

She nodded, but it was shaky.

Then, as if pulled by instinct, she stepped in. Her fingers found the waistband of his shorts and paused. She looked up once - a final moment of hesitation - then hooked her fingers in and tugged.

The fabric slipped down over his hips.

Her breath caught. A full, sharp inhale. Her hand flew to her mouth.

His cock was even bigger in the flesh.

Even soft it had presence. But now - fully hard - it was a fucking weapon. Thick, veined, proud. It curved slightly up and forward, the head swollen and dark.

"Oh my god," she whispered.

Her hand reached out as though unsure - then wrapped around it.

He filled her palm. Her fingers didn't meet. Her thumb stroked along a vein. She exhaled, then she dropped to her knees.

Her lips parted. She kissed the head first - gently. Tentatively. Then again. And again. Her tongue flicked over the crown, tasting him.

Ben rested a hand lightly on her head. His voice was calm and assured.

"Start slow," he said. "Use your tongue. Just get used to the shape."

She swirled around the head. Licked down the shaft. Took him into her mouth an inch at a time. Her jaw stretched.

"Hand at the base," he murmured. "Use both if you need to."

She did. One hand gripping tight, the other stroking below.

"You don't need to deepthroat it. Just focus on rhythm."

She nodded around his cock. Her spit was already coating him. The sounds were wet and obscene. Her inexperience showed - the way she pulled off to breathe too often, the little gags, the wide eyes.

But her desire was clear. She wanted to please.

Ben moaned softly, hand tightening in her hair. "That's it. Just like that...."

And as she sucked, his fingers drifted down between her thighs - brushing against her pussy, teasing her.

She gasped around him.

He pushed two fingers inside, slow and deep.

She moaned. Her back arched. Her knees buckled.

"Such a tight little pussy," he growled.

Tasha, still watching from her seat, crossed her legs the other way. Her fingers had dipped beneath her skirt now.

Ben pulled Chloe up lifted her like she weighed nothing - and carried her onto the bed. He laid her down gently, her legs spread instinctively.

He knelt between them, gripped her thighs, and lowered his mouth, kissing her breasts and then down her sternum until he reached her pussy.

She yelped at first, then gasped as his tongue worked her. Long strokes. Then short, focused flicks over her clit. Then back again. Two fingers slid back in - curling just right - and he devoured her.

Her hands clawed at the sheets.

"Fuck... oh my god... fuck...."

Her body snapped tight. Her breath caught, and then she came - hard and shaking, thighs clenching around his head, back arched off the bed.

When she finally sagged, breathless, she reached for him.

"Please," she panted. "Fuck me. But... go easy. You're...."

Ben stood. His cock still glistened with spit and it bounced heavily as he moved closer.

Tasha stood now, calm and in control.

She held up a small gold wrapper.

"You'll need one of these."

She tore it open.

Magnum XL.

She looked at Chloe. "Bet your ex didn't need this size."

Chloe shook her head wistfully.

Tasha stepped close. Took Ben's cock in one hand. She rolled the condom down slowly, squeezing him at the base.

Then leaned in to whisper: "Make her remember this forever."

***

Ben stood at the edge of the bed, towering over her.

Chloe was on her back now, legs parted, arms outstretched, her chest rising and falling like she'd run a mile. Sweat shimmered faintly on her skin. Her pussy, still slick from his tongue, flexed in little, involuntary pulses as she looked up at him - then down.

At his cock.

Her eyes went wide again. That cock. Thick. Long. Wrapped tight in latex but still intimidating - perhaps even more so. Beautiful in a way that rewired her idea of sex. It had looked big in the photos but now it looked like something that should come with a warning.

Ben climbed onto the bed slowly, muscles rippling with each movement. He braced above her, resting one hand beside her head, the other sliding down her body - from her breast, to her waist, to the inside of her thigh.

He kissed her neck. Then he pulled back, eyes locked with hers.

"You ready?" he asked, voice rough now but heavy with restraint.

Chloe nodded.

Ben reached down. Guided his cock into place.

The head pressed against her entrance - broad and firm.

Chloe gasped. Her body flinched like it wasn't sure what to do - like her pussy was refusing him, too tight, too shocked to let him in.

Ben didn't push. Not yet. He kissed her throat again, slower this time. "Just breathe."

She nodded, apprehension clear.

Then he gave a gentle push - just enough to breach her, the head of his cock popping inside with a delicious stretch.

Chloe cried out, not in pain, more a rush of sensation she'd never felt before. Her hands clawed at the sheets. Her thighs trembled.

Ben kissed her temple. "You're doing perfect. Just breathe. You've got this."

He held still for a moment, letting her adjust. Her pussy clung to him like it wasn't sure whether to let go or pull him deeper.

He drew back just slightly, then pushed in again - another inch.

Chloe gasped. Her head rolled on the pillow. "Fuck... oh my god... it's so much...."

"Slow," Ben murmured. "We'll take it slow."

He rocked his hips gently, giving her more with each stroke. Inch by inch. Her cunt stretched around him, her breathing turning ragged.

He was maybe halfway in when she let out a sharp whimper and pressed her palm flat to his chest.

"Wait. Just... wait."

He froze.

Chloe's eyes were glassy.

"Nothing's ever... been that deep. Or that... full."

Ben smiled softly and nodded. "Take your time."

Tasha shifted in the chair - one hand still lazily between her thighs, the other now resting over her breast. Her eyes never left them.

After a moment, Chloe let out a long breath. Then another. Her hand slid from Ben's chest down to his hips.

She gave him a tiny tug forward.

"Okay," she whispered. "Give me more."

Ben obeyed.

He started slow again - shallow, shallow... then deeper. Not fast. Measured. Controlled. His rhythm hypnotic:

Slow... slow... quick.

Shallow... shallow... deep.

Chloe's body began to respond. Her gasps turned into moans. Her hips began to lift to meet his. Her hands dug into his back, then slid down to his arse.

She pulled him in. Deeper still.

Tasha sat forward now, legs parted, her own pleasure building at the sight of Chloe being opened and taken by her husband.

Chloe moaned into Ben's neck, voice muffled but full of need: "More. Please... fuck... more."

***

Ben slowed. Then he pulled out.

Chloe whimpered at the sudden absence - her body clenching around nothing, left wanting, wide and gaping, her pussy still pulsing around the ghost of his cock.

Then he took her by the hips. Not roughly, not softly. Just firmly and deliberately.

He rolled her onto her side, then up onto her knees.

"Face down," he said.

Her body obeyed before her mind caught up - pliant and dizzy from sex. She buried her face into the pillow, arse high, thighs spread wide.

Ben knelt behind her.

Tasha exhaled sharply in the corner chair. Her hand was still between her thighs, two fingers buried knuckle-deep. Her other hand had slipped under her top to pinch at her pierced nipple. Her eyes never leaving Chloe's swollen pussy.

Ben lined up. He gripped her hips, and pushed in.

Chloe cried out into the pillow - a raw, helpless sound - as his cock filled her again. From behind, the angle changed everything. It felt deeper. Harder. Her walls clenched, stretched, trembled as he inserted himself fully, inch by slow inch.

"Oh my god... fuck...." she gasped.

Ben started to move again - long, slow, and deep strokes. He didn't thrust. He dragged himself in and out of her - each stroke like a wave, heavy and unstoppable.

Every time his hips met her arse, she jolted. Every time he pulled out, her body tried to follow.

Her back arched. Her breath broke. Her hands clawed at the duvet.

Each stroke set off fireworks inside her - new nerves, new depths, a pleasure so rich it almost hurt.

Tasha watched Ben's arse clench, his rhythm measured, gorgeous, devastating. She watched Chloe's hole stretched wide around the base of his cock, clinging like she couldn't bear to let him go.

Ben shifted his grip, one hand sliding up Chloe's spine, pushing her down a little more.

His voice was calm and commanding.

"Take it."

Chloe let out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a moan.

He picked up the pace.

Each thrust drove her forward and the headboard creaked.

Her voice came out in gasps now - short, ragged, helpless. "I'm gonna... fuck... oh my god I'm... FUUUCK!"

Her body clenched around him, sudden and violently intense as she came hard. Back spasming. Mouth open against the pillow. She let out one long, broken moan.

Then she collapsed - her arms gave way, body sinking flat to the mattress, cheek to the pillow, still panting.

Ben pulled back slightly but stayed inside her, holding her hips like he needed to keep her tethered.

Tasha was leaning forward in the chair now. One leg up on the arm. Her pussy glistening in the low light. Her fingers hadn't stopped.

Ben looked over his shoulder.

"She's not done yet."

***

Chloe was still recovering when Ben slipped out of her - slowly and deliberately - leaving her stretched and pulsing.

He guided her onto her side with firm hands. Gently, but with complete control. She didn't resist. She let him move her like he owned every inch of her.

Ben lay behind her, close but not pressed in yet. He lifted her right leg and hooked it over his thigh, opening her up.

"Keep your hips tilted," he said, voice low and steady in her ear. "Just like that."

She nodded. Breathless. Her skin flushed. Her body still weak from the last orgasm.

Then he lined up again.

His cock pressed against her entrance. He slipped in with a slow, grinding thrust - deeper this time, angling up, filling her in a way that made her gasp and arch.

"Jesus... fuck... that's so deep."

"That's it," he murmured, lips at her ear. "You're doing so fucking good."

His hand reached around her front - one palm curling under her breast, squeezing. Rolling her nipple between finger and thumb. Chloe whimpered, body tightening.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"Just fuck me," she gasped. "Please... fuck me like this."

He gave it to her with deep, rolling and relentless strokes. The bed rocked in rhythm. Chloe's cries were higher now - sharper and more desperate. Ben's other hand slid down her stomach, between her legs.

Her clit was swollen and hard. He found it with two fingers and began to flick - short, fast, precise strokes as he thrust into her, timing the movement perfectly.

Flick. Flick. Thrust.

Flick. Flick. Deep.

Chloe's mouth dropped open. She went silent for half a second - like her body couldn't process what was happening.

Then the orgasm hit.

Not like before.

This one tore through her from the outside in - clit first, then pussy, then spine. Her whole body jolted. Her leg spasmed against his hip.

"Oh god... don't stop... don't stop...."

He didn't. His cock stayed deep, hips driving, his fingers never leaving her clit.

She came again - or maybe it never stopped. Her body lost control, riding the rhythm.

Tasha moaned softly from the corner, watching Chloe come apart around her husband's cock and fingers.

Ben growled low in his throat. His hand squeezed her breast harder, mouth near her ear again.

"You wanted to know what real sex felt like?" he whispered.

Chloe couldn't answer.

Ben lay back, chest heaving, sweat beading across his collarbone. His cock stood up thick and proud, wet and twitching in anticipation.

He held out his hand.

"Come here."

Chloe crawled toward him on all fours, dazed, her hair clinging to her temples. She moved like a girl possessed - not in control, but willing.

Ben caught her waist, turned her gently, and then lifted her with ease.

She gasped as he hovered her above his cock - the fat head nestling against her sore, sloppy entrance - and then slowly, with hands firm on her hips, lowered her down.

Chloe cried out as he filled her again - every inch stretching, but this time, she was in control.

Ben's voice was steady. "Take what you want."

She whimpered.

He guided her with his hands - don't bounce yet, grind, slow circles with her hips, then back and forth. Her clit rubbed against his pelvis with every movement, every tilt of her hips.

"That's it," he said, watching her. "Ride it. Grind it. Make yourself cum on my cock."

She moaned loud now, one hand on his chest, the other curling behind her own head. Her body arched, her tits bouncing, flushed and beautiful.

Her hair swung down over her face.

Her eyes closed. Her jaw dropped. She started to move faster, chasing her pleasure, her hips grinding in frantic little figure-eights.

Ben could feel her clenching around him.

He looked over her shoulder.

Tasha was still in the chair - legs wide, a black toy buried in her pussy, her hand rolling slow circles over her clit. Her other hand squeezed her breast hard. Her eyes never left them. She was smiling.

Ben's grip tightened on Chloe's hips. "Cum for me."

"I... fuck... I...." Chloe gasped.

Her pace stuttered, then surged.

Her body jerked, her hand flattened over his chest, nails digging in. Her back arched high as her orgasm hit - hard and fast, wet and deep. Her pussy clamped down around his cock, and she screamed, face contorted, thighs shaking.

She came hard, riding it out, every nerve on fire as her body bucked and grinded in wild, desperate waves.

Ben held onto her through it. Watched her break and bloom at the same time. Watched Tasha touch herself harder now, eyes devouring every detail.

***

Chloe finally slumped forward, trembling, collapsing against Ben's chest - still gasping, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

Her body was pink with heat, her nipples tight, her pussy red, swollen, stretched wide open - used in a way she'd never experienced before.

Ben flipped her onto her back and knelt between her legs, just watching her for a moment.

He stared at her cunt and smiled to himself. She looked ruined. Beautifully so. Like something wild finally broken in. A girl who'd never been fucked like this before - and never would be the same again.

Chloe looked up at him - eyes unfocused. She looked drunk on cock and cum.

Ben's cock pulsed - still rock hard, but different now. Angrier. The veins bulged up the shaft like they might burst. The head was deep purple, glistening, almost too big for the condom stretched tight around it. It looked like it might split at any second.

He bent forward, kissed her belly once, then reached for the pillows and grabbed one.

"Lift your hips."

She did, weakly.

He slid the pillow under her arse, elevating her just enough. Then he took her legs and threw them up over his shoulders.

No ceremony now. No questions. Just pure, final fucking. He lined up and drove into her. All of him, in one brutal, perfect thrust.

Chloe screamed. Her hands flew to the bed, gripping like she was trying not to fall off the edge of the earth.

Ben started to pound her - hips snapping, thrusts merciless. Every movement shoved her up the bed, made her tits bounce, made her jaw drop and her back arch.

Tasha moaned loudly from the chair - fingers slick with her own juice, working herself as she watched Chloe get fucked again.

Ben reached down between them - one hand pinning Chloe's hip, the other finding her clit, slick and swollen. He circled it fast, then flicked it hard as his cock hammered into her.

Chloe's whole body shook as she shattered once more.

Her fifth - maybe sixth - orgasm ripped through her, violent and wet, her pussy spasming, back arched, as she screamed into the ceiling.

Ben's rhythm stuttered. His cock throbbed inside her.

He was right there.

"Fuck...."

He pulled out fast, tore off the condom, and wrapped his hand around his shaft.

Just two strokes. That's all it took.

With a deep, guttural roar, he came - hard and hot, thick white ropes of cum exploding from his cock. The first stream hit her clit. The second splashed up her stomach. The third landed on her mound, the next running down between her thighs, streaking her pussy lips, dripping into the crease of her arse.

So much cum. It coated her, everywhere.

Tasha's moan from the chair was half-a-sob. Her fingers still working.

Ben knelt there, chest heaving, cock twitching in his hand, watching his wife's gift lie beneath him.

***

Chloe lay flat on her back, limbs splayed, mouth slightly open. Her eyes were barely focused. Her chest rose and fell in short, shallow waves.

She was cock-drunk, fucked raw and full, lips parted in a half-smile. Her skin glowed. Her pussy was red, puffy, and stretched wider than it ever had. Thick streaks of Ben's spunk still coated her mound, her thighs, her belly. The curve above her pussy shimmered with it.

Ben sat at the edge of the bed now, chest heaving, arms slack. His cock still half-hard and twitching gently.

Across the room, Tasha stood.

She walked slowly toward the bed - no rush. Every step deliberate. Her black leather skirt still clung to her hips. Her boots heavy on the floorboards. Her fingers glistened from where they'd been buried in her own soaking pussy. Her eyes were hungry.

She didn't speak.

She stood beside the bed, looked down at the scene - her husband glowing with release, the girl flushed and ruined and radiant.

She looked at Ben. He looked back.

Then she turned her gaze to Chloe's body - the slick mess between her thighs, the smeared white flood painted across her cunt and stomach.

Tasha dropped to her knees. She leaned in close - her face just inches from the other woman's core.

"I need to taste what he's left on you," she whispered.

And then she licked. Long, slow, and deliberate - from the bottom of Chloe's pussy all the way up to her clit. Her tongue scooped Ben's cum from the folds, her lips catching the thickest parts smeared across her slit. She moaned low as she tasted it.

Chloe's body jerked. She gasped - overstimulated and lit up again.

Tasha didn't stop.

She moved up - licking Chloe's mound, her pubic bone, the streaks of white across her belly. Her tongue was eager. She sucked one line of cum clean off Chloe's stomach with a low, filthy growl in her throat.

Ben watched, mesmerised.

Chloe let out a high, shaky moan. Tasha looked up - her mouth glossy with cum, her chin wet, her eyes burning.

She smiled, wild and wicked. Then she licked her lips.

"I think," she said, voice low and certain, "she's ready for round two."