Provocation Ch. 03

The burn is accelerating, but they aren't there yet.

In case you missed Provocation 2, I accidentally posted it as Erotic Coupling, not Group Sex

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Provocation - Three

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We finally stopped kissing and got the forks untangled. I really need to start paying a lot more attention when loading this new dishwasher...

For some 'unaccountable' reason, Gwen and I were both now starving and immediately made dinner, even if it was extraordinarily early for us. It was just hamburgers, but we found ourselves at the table, sponging at mostly empty plates with leftover fries to scrounge the juices left by the patties.

"So, how was work for you?" I finally asked. We had discussed my hectic day by this point, or at least the work component thereof.

"Bland, mostly. Did have one interesting phone call," Gwen said casually.

"Ha! I knew you'd call her," I laughed.

"She called me," Gwen said, sticking her tongue out at me. "She was kind of upset at first."

"What? Wait. Really?" I yelped. Ron hadn't said...

"She was afraid that she and Ron had gotten out of line and corrupted us!"

I laughed with her at that. "But she isn't mad at Ron?" I wanted to confirm.

"No! I got the explicit information that they spent as much of the weekend joined at the hips as we did," Gwen replied drily.

How much 'explicit information' did women exchange?

"I reassured her and explained the whole Provoking thing," Gwen said as we moved into the living room to sit on the couch.

"Oh?"

"We agreed that it sure worked for all of us. But we both suspect it would not for most people."

I nodded at that. "Yeah," I thought out loud. "I feel like I have more trust in you than a lot of guys manage."

"That's what we agreed," Gwen replied. "Between you and me, that's why I wasn't feeling so dicey after the dance club as I was after having Ron and Cathy over. Our single gang are all very single. Teasing any of them isn't going to piss anybody else off!"

"It is simpler there," I nodded. "I'm glad to hear all is good then."

She poked me. "Like you didn't call Ron the second your ass hit your chair at the office."

"Of course," I shrugged. "We had much the same conversation, in different terms." I looked at my woman. "You may expect that Ron will hit on you again when we go over there Friday."

Gwen pretended to gasp. Then she grabbed my hand. "Should I feel bad that I'm looking forward to that?"

I wasn't sure if she was asking if she should be apologizing to me for looking forward to it, or she herself should feel bad for looking forward to it.

I shrugged. "Well, I'm sure looking forward to hitting on Gwen!"

"I'll bet," she poked me again, a bit... provoked. "Her and her bazongas!"

"They are... different," I said slyly.

I was starting to get a sore rib from all the poking.

"Just remember," I said, holding her close to prevent any further stiff digits in my side, "your bazongas are, and forever will be, my favorite bazongas."

"Durn tootin'," Gwen said, snuggling in against me.

And with that, we turned on the TV to catch NCIS.

*

The week was uneventful, except that Gwen came home on Wednesday to tell me she had had lunch with Sammy, as they often did.

"Carl, I almost started flirting with him," Gwen said, not guiltily, but still somehow giving the impression that she'd dodged a bullet.

"He'd have liked that," I said slowly. "Why didn't you?"

"Duh, you weren't there. No way I'd want to waste a chance to provoke you!"

"I still think you'd have had fun," I teased.

"Yeah, I would have," Gwen said, almost defiantly. "But," she shrugged, "not as much fun as if you were there to get all horny watching."

"I'm getting horny now, thinking about it," I sort of joked. I stopped and humphed to myself as I realized something. "Honestly, with someone like Sammy, where I already know the undercurrent, I think I could probably be sufficiently provoked by a later retelling." Gwen eyed me dubiously. "I'd still rather have the chance to be provoked in person," I added, realizing that in the moment.

"Hmmm. And I'd much prefer to provoke you in person." Gwen said, giving me a stern but friendly eye. "But while no sane woman is going to encourage her man to go around flirting up a storm in her absence... I think a little ex-post-facto provocation would be okay from you, too. Maybe. Let's think a bit more on that one before we set any rules there on one side or the other."

*

Getting dressed on Friday evening was slower than usual. My hands kept getting in the way as Gwen tried to put on her clothes. Had I gotten frisky like this a month ago, she would have laughed and slapped my hands away with an appreciative smile, but I would have been expected to behave myself thereafter.

Friday, she kept wandering back within my reach...

We managed to arrive only a few socially acceptable minutes late, but I had to speed a little on the drive over to pull that off.

Cathy, when she finally opened the door to us, announced, "Thank God you two are late tonight, like normal people! I'm still not quite ready in the kitchen, but if you had arrived on time, it would have been embarrassing!"

"Can't have anyone being embarrassed," I said, stepping through the door and extending my hand to Ron, who stood behind Cathy.

"Drink, anybody?" he asked the room, letting go of my hand after a firm shake.

"Please," Gwen said brightly, before either Cathy or I could say the same.

"I'll take a Stinger, Ron," Cathy said, starting to dash for the kitchen. "Hold it for me while I get things... put back together in there!"

Gwen and I flanked Ron as he moved to his little bar in the corner of the living room.

"Make it easy on yourself," Gwen said to Ron. "Stingers all around."

I had heard of Stingers, and had recipes for them in several books, but I'd never had one.

As Ron uncorked his brandy, Gwen went on in an almost sing-song voice. "So, something got messed up in the kitchen? Did you get in Cathy's way, Ron?" she asked sweetly.

He tilted his head in her direction. "Possibly," he said slyly.

"Well, I hope she at least enjoyed the interruption..." she teased, clasping her hands behind her back to thrust her chest forward a touch.

"I think she may have."

"I'll bet she usually does," Gwen bore on, actually closing toward Ron just a half step.

"I aim to please," he practically leered back.

They both shot a glance at me, standing about two feet from Ron on the other side.

I rolled my eyes. "Quit distracting Ron," I scolded Gwen. "At least until after he's finished making my drink."

Ron stiffened fractionally at my proviso, and Gwen gave me a provoked look like I had been the one flirting.

Interesting reaction. I filed it away for future consideration.

Whatever mess Ron's impertinence had made in the kitchen, it had already been mostly cleaned up before we had arrived, or it had not been that big in the first place, because Cathy was already coming back out of the kitchen by the time Ron started handing out chilled coupes of minty goodness.

"Wow!" I said brightly. "You handled that quickly, Cathy." I smiled as brightly at her.

She looked back at me for half a beat, then visibly drew a deeper breath than needed before she smiled and replied, "I think you will find that I am quite skilled with my hands."

Oh, really? Game on.

"I look forward to experiencing the results of your skills," I said back swiftly. I may have oiled up my voice a little.

I felt my arm being taken possessively by Gwen. "Weak effort, babe," she whispered in my ear.

"I know," I sighed quietly. "She caught me by surprise. I'll do better..."

"Is that a promise or a threat?"

"I'm aiming for both."

"On target," she murmured back happily.

The dinner was good. Too good. It was so good, it held all our attention and totally derailed the curiosity that had kicked off within moments of our arrival.

Still... something was sizzling in me the whole meal.

Honestly, given how the current vibe had kicked off the week before, I realized the only real disappointment about this feast was that there was no finger food...

The four of us always dressed fairly casually when we got together, but for this, the last of the fancy dinners, we had, seemingly independently, upped our game a little. I had my best trousers on, and my grey linen shirt with the brightly embroidered cuffs. Ron was similarly attired.

The girls had gone somewhat further. Before, they had been been dressing for tennis or, um, aprés golf, you know? Tonight, they both wore bright skirts, pleasingly closer to tennis length than golf. That left a lot of appealing leg to see on both ladies. Gwen had on a black satin bustier-looking top. Even disregarding the spaghetti straps on her shoulders, I knew from watching her dress (closely) that there was no bra underneath. Cathy wore a far looser, flowing, silver blouse. That might have been disappointing compared to Gwen's form-fitting number, but the thing was low-cut. Deeply-cut.

I told you that I am aesthetically a fan of large boobs. I have studied the genre, if you will. I could tell from looking, staring really, into Cathy's neckline that she had a bra on. There had to be, to make those lovelies ride like they were. But, given the depth of that neckline, I couldn't quite figure out what kind or configuration of support garment she wore.

I might not be going to see what that bra looked like first hand, but I was kind of determined suddenly, as Cathy leaned forward extravagantly to rise from her chair, to figure it out.

Gwen and I were sternly ordered to keep our seats now that we had all finished, while Ron and Cathy cleared the table and went to retrieve dessert.

We looked at each other as the old-fashioned swinging door to the kitchen fell closed.

"Does it upset you that I've really been looking forward to this?" Gwen asked quietly. "More than I expected to?"

"It might..." I said slowly. "If I hadn't also been eager for tonight."

We both smiled. "What are we doing?" Gwen said, shaking her head.

"Damned if I know," I chuckled. "I guess we will find out."

There was a clattering of dishes from the kitchen in the amenable silence between us.

"But," I added, knowing they would be back soon, "while I will admit to being quite focused on finding out how you and especially... yes, especially Gwen are going to tease me tonight, in the long run, I am way more committed to enjoying the results of that teasing between two of us later."

"Mmmm," Gwen said, smiling evilly. "I think that, even if nothing else provocative happens tonight beyond what already has, you can at least expect a wakeup blowjob tomorrow morning!"

Great. Gwen was gonna give me a hard-on before I could even try to flirt with Cathy again...

The kitchen door squeaked a bit as Ron pushed it open with a flourish. "Voila!" he pronounced proudly, watching as Cathy came through with a tray.

On the tray was a neat pyramid, consisting of a variety of chocolate truffles. I did a double-take as I perceived that they were hand-made, home-made chocolate truffles!

"Oh, you bitch," Gwen gasped beside me delightedly. "No fair, waiting for the very last night to drop the mike on me!"

Cathy just smiled and went over to the table to stand directly across from me. She bent over, again extravagantly, to set down the tray. But she froze, quirked her lips, and stood back up straight. "We need to buy better dining room chairs, Ron," she said, still holding the tray.

"Huh? Wait, why?" he asked, alarmed. Dining room chairs are expensive.

"Ours aren't as comfortable as theirs," Cathy shrugged. "Let's all enjoy dessert in the living room instead."

"That is a wonderful idea," Gwen enthused sweetly, bouncing to her feet and moving to grab Cathy's arm.

Ron and I looked at each other, raised questioning but not unhappy eyebrows, and enjoyed the view as we followed the ladies.

The main seating area in Ron and Cathy's living room is filled with a really long couch and a matching cozy loveseat. It is an awkward configuration for two couples, so they usually dragged in an extra chair or two, but neither lady gave us any instructions to that end, and since at least I was paying more attention to our two women than to where they were going, we brought along no extra seating.

When we got to the center of the room, Gwen turned, hesitated, then smiled. She pointed at the couch and set the platter of truffles down on the coffee table, at the left of the couch, where it and the love seat came together. "Ron, take that end of the couch and let our guests sit nearest to the dessert," she said, pointing at the right side.

Ron looked amused and took his seat there. Cathy again maneuvered herself so she was bending over while facing me to put down the platter, then curled herself up on the love seat, pointing us at the couch between Ron and where she sat.

"Boy-girl, boy-girl, right?" Gwen asked, looking teasingly at our etiquette-obsessed buddies.

But she happily sat herself in the middle of the couch, and I followed to sit at the end next to Cathy's perch. I noticed without comment that Gwen had seated herself a lot closer to Ron's end of the couch than to mine.

We resumed an earlier conversation from dinner and chatted happily for a good while, maybe ten minutes.

"Hey!" Cathy said, clapping her hands. "No one is eating my sweets," she declared, then flushed briefly at her wording. "Let's all have one so I can hear your opinions, Carl and Gwen!"

We all reached for the platter and each took a delicious-looking confection. Ron had to actually get up and lean way over to reach one.

We all bit in and Cathy reveled in the spontaneous moans at how good they were. Rich, not too sweet, and almost savory. Mine looked like a tiny asteroid, its surface covered in crumbled nuts. Gwen's had thin lines of something red drizzled across its smooth, round surface.

"You are evil, Cathy," I groaned carefully as I swallowed the last bit of my truffle.

"You sound pretty happy for someone calling my wife evil, dude," Ron observed.

I flared my eyebrows at him. "I fucking love these things," I growled at him. I turned and looked at Cathy. "But these are criminally small. If they were full-size, I'd be happy to eat just one... okay, two. But these are just two bites each. My dumbass brain is telling me that they are so small, I can have a whole bunch."

Cathy just preened from the love seat next to me.

Gwen rescued this dead-end set of complaints about the best dessert I'd had in ages with a story about some silliness at her work. We all had a good time trashing some woman she described as producing a truly Karen-like episode in Purchasing.

But we all were getting hungry for more truffle goodness. Ron broke down and struggled up from their lushly soft couch to reach for another truffle.

But Gwen jumped on the opportunity. "Want one, Ron?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said, almost missing what was being asked before sinking back into his seat.

Gwen plucked up two truffles, one covered in sprinkles, the other in cocoa powder. She held them both up before Ron. He pointed at the pink sprinkles. "Good choice," my woman purred, popping the cocoa-powdered one between her dark red, sensuously pursed lips. Ron winced happily as he watched her chew the rich confection.

Then she scooted another few inches over to sit right next to him and offered the truffle to his lips. Ron's eyes lit briefly before he tried to play it as if shit hadn't started happening again. I similarly tried to pretend this was not interesting, but I leaned toward them despite myself. I felt Cathy similarly bending forward on the love seat in my peripheral vision.

Ron opened his mouth slowly, but Gwen grinned impatiently and shoved the small chocolate into his mouth. He leaned back, and she followed, almost resting herself on him. She giggled as he finally bit down and ate half the truffle. He had chewed barely twice when he made an ooohing sound and straightened. Gwen retreated as he moved, but she was still at least slightly pressed against him.

"Honestly, Cath," Ron said with his mouth still half-full of sticky chocolate. "This is the best batch of these you've ever done!"

We all laughed lightly at the enthusiastic break from the gathering tension.

"I found a new Mexican chocolate to add to the blend," Cathy just said smugly.

"Well, it works," Gwen said enthusiastically.

We all paused for just a beat.

Ron made a show of swallowing. "I'd like the rest of my yummy, please," he said casually to my lady.

"Of course," she said, leaning back toward him and lifting the already-bitten truffle back toward him. But this time, Ron hung in there, and Gwen ended up pushing quite obviously against him, her right breast pressed visibly on his chest, and her face within inches of his. He opened his mouth wide this time, and Gwen slid the rest of the truffle deep into his lips, following it in with her index finger. He closed his lips around that finger, and she left it there.

You did not need your teeth to enjoy the firm but soft and creamy chocolate of these truffles, and I saw Ron masticating his treat with just his cheeks and tongue, allowing him to keep Gwen's finger in his mouth as he did.

My woman finally pulled her finger free, and there were streaks of the truffle's soft center on it.

"Whoops," Gwen said, and stared right back at Ron while she tantalizingly licked her finger free of any traces of the chocolate.

Ron looked like he gulped, but maybe he was just swallowing the last of the truffle.

I shot Gwen a look that told her I'd fuck her right now, if we weren't doing a thing. But that I was going to fuck her later. And then some.

I briefly flicked my eyes archly over Ron, who still had my girl resting lightly against him, and turned back to Cathy, who was smiling challengingly at her husband.

"Can I get you another?" I asked her blandly. I was feeling anything other than bland, but unsure how to top Gwen. Until I could figure that out, I was just angling to have Cathy suck on my finger for a bit. The more than nascent hard-on I was dealing with told me that it would be an awesome start.

"Sure. Let me have one of the ones dusted in the cocoa powder, too," she said with a slow smile.

I stretched to pluck one of the light brown balls and turned to Cathy. Instead of leaning toward me, she was lounging back in the little loveseat. I started to stretch toward her, but then popped up. "I don't want to reach," I said offhand and moved to squeeze myself in next to Cathy.

As I said, the little loveseat was really no bigger than one of those cuddle chairs you see that hold two people only if they are extremely good friends. I certainly thought of Cathy as a friend... I squeezed in beside her, our hips pressing firmly together. It was even more intimate than it might have been since Cathy made no effort to make room for me.

I turned toward her with the truffle in my hand. Naturally, to make things comfortable with me twisted like that, I had to swing my arm up and around behind her. That I draped that arm close around her shoulders instead of along the top of the loveseat was simply accidental. Simply.

Cathy opened her mouth and twisted back toward me, but not so much as to dislodge my arm. Again, in keeping with the amorous, but deniable little ritual we were all developing to feed each other, she opened her mouth sexily. I fed the truffle in gently, and she bit it in half. She moaned just a little at the flavor of her own masterwork.

Could I help it if my brain interpreted those low sounds of pleasure as evoking images of something else in her mouth?

No. I could not. Cathy could paint a picture without words...

"I really am good, aren't I?" she giggled. I could not help but nod.

She swallowed and looked at me as she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue this time, expectantly. She still did not lean forward, almost nestling further back into my arm.

I made a production of placing the last half of the sweet on her tongue, leaving one finger on it to help follow it into her mouth as she pulled back her tongue.

But she messed up the maneuver, lowering her tongue too soon instead of sliding it back, and the truffle fell off! I tried to catch it, but I had pretty focused on her mouth and tongue, not the damned chocolate.

I started to yelp, but then the power-coated candy dropped directly down and into her cleavage.

As if aimed.

"Oops," Cathy said, her expression the sort of one you'd try to effect if you had just drained a basket from the mid-court line and wanted to pretend it was no big deal.

I looked at her. I looked down at the chocolate resting in a bit of a powdery, sticky mess between her tits. I looked at Gwen, who was stifling a laugh, but also furiously plotting... something.

I did not bother to look at Ron, but I was sure that he had been getting ready for whatever Gwen would come up with.

I looked down at that truffle and decided that Ron had better be ready for whatever I was about to come up with.

So far, things had been pretty steady. A little flirting all around, and the same feeding games we had established before. Everything had clung to a thin veneer of deniability so far. There had not been much escalation, if any.

But whether she had planned it or not, Cathy had made an opportunity for escalation. And she seemed to be waiting for me to escalate.

Turns out I didn't have to be more than one or two drinks in for the evening to still become Tipsy Stupid. Maybe even Drunk Stupid...

Whatever, I'd listen carefully, but unless I heard some objection, I was about to quite thoroughly escalate.

"No worries," I told Beth. "I'll get it." And I reached my hand down to grab the truffle. I moved slow enough to stop if I heard... well, anything, but the room was suddenly silent as my fingers touched down between those big, fascinating tits

Firm. Warm. Just slightly trembling with what I was pretty sure was arousal. And so generously sized... Listen, Cathy is not some huge tittied cow or anything. They are barely bigger than softballs or grapefruit. Maybe small cantaloupe-sized. Maybe. But they were close to the biggest I'd ever touched.

Honestly, I had a terrible, just terrible time getting ahold of the confectionery. It was slippery as well as sticky, and my fingers rubbed over a lot of the real estate that it had fallen into before I could pluck it free. I brandished it aloft. "Got it!"

"Here," Cathy said drily, snatching it delicately from my fingers. "You recovered it, you eat it." She immediately plopped it into my mouth, and since my lips were closed at first, I now had chocolate filling all over my lips. "Oh, dear," she pretended to apologize. Then she dragged her fingers all around, and occasionally between my lips, stopping here and there to lick her digits clean.

Ron was grinning and shaking his head, but he wasn't unhappy, despite my having just moments earlier rooted around in his wife's cleavage with my entire hand.

Gwen was giving me that ambiguous eye. But she was also slowly snuggling down harder against Ron, and had her arm along his leg and her hand on his knee. The inside of his knee.

A firm rub of the side of my lips with her thumb later, and Gwen declared me clean with a smug grin at her own escalation of things.

But I found that I wasn't Tipsy Stupid or Drunk Stupid. I was Horny Stupid, which is the best or worst kind of stupid, depending on the company one is keeping. And I was not done escalating.

"Thanks, Cathy," I said, loudly enough to be heard by our partners in life, "but you aren't clean yet."

And, without looking to her or anyone else for signs of them stopping me, I turned fully toward her. My arm around her back slid out to her side, and my far hand went out around her waist.

Then I bent and shoved my face down in between her boobs and started licking up the powdered cocoa and soft chocolate filling that I had spread around on them!

The only thing remotely not awesome about the sensory experience of licking chocolate off of big, wonderfully firm tits that I had never so much as touched before and still hadn't fully seen, was that the chocolate aromas were clashing, or at least dissonancing, with whatever perfume Cathy habitually wore. Perfume, she had obviously dabbed a trace of between her breasts before the party had started.

I quickly decided I liked the combination of aromas. But then again, I'd have probably liked a tax audit had you sprung one on me at that particular moment, so my judgment might have been off.

From the corner of my eye, I could just see that Gwen was still snuggled into Ron, and his hand around her was now cupping one of her breasts. Her hand was on his, and I was certain she was making sure he massaged her thoroughly.

I took a split second to be provoked by her wanton behavior with Ron, then went back to sucking all over his wife's cleavage right in front of him. And Gwen.

I was no longer tasting any chocolate, but I was damned if I was giving up licking Cathy's boobs, and she was giving exactly zero indication that she felt I needed to stop. I lifted my hand from her waist and cupped the outside of her breast through the blouse, pressing that tit harder against my face, and nom nom nomed all over its creamy soft inner curve.

Any pretense of this being just friendly cooperative behavior to remove misplaced food was long gone, but I did not want to just look silly by over-staying my welcome, so I finally came up for air. I did not remove my right hand from Cathy's breast. And what do you know, my left had somehow snaked down to grasp her other one...

I looked into Cathy's eyes and saw everything that I could have hoped for. She was flushed, and smiling, and nothing but happy.

There was no commentary from the peanut gallery. We both turned to see that Gwen and Ron were kissing deeply, Ron's hand still very much on my woman's breast, and one of hers grabbing at his ass.

Kissing?

That seemed for a moment to be a bit too provocative. But honestly, this was not some warm, loving embaiser. It still felt like it was somehow more provocative than my literally sucking on Cathy's tits, but in no way did it feel like too much.

It was just a kiss. I had kissed a lot, even on a lot of first dates. Hadn't meant much most times, even if the kiss led to some sex. Hell, I'd kissed and fucked on a few first and intentionally only dates, for that matter. And so had Gwen. And the two of us had kissed a million times, for a hundred different reasons. I could tell when Gwen was being affectionate and when she was hungry. Her kiss with Ron was hungry, and I was there for it. Or, I would be later. Right now, Gwen's hunger was directed elsewhere.

But I was also hungry now, and so, it seemed, was Cathy. She grabbed my chin, twisted it toward her, and we were kissing too, just as hard. I may have cleaned all the chocolate flavor from her cleavage, but not from inside her mouth. I am sure mine still had leftover bittersweet goodness in it as well. Our tongues traded flavors eagerly.

This was the first mouth other than Gwen's I had kissed in... four years. God, it was fun. Not in any meaningful way, though. It was not a bonding kiss. It was just flat arousing.

I heard Gwen gasp, breaking off her kiss with Ron. I could not help but look her way and saw her draining her wine glass.

"Need some more?" I offered, as if we were all playing Bridge around the table.

"No!" Gwen gasped almost desperately. She paused to search for words carefully but urgently.

"I... uh... if I have any more wine, I will eat more of these demon chocolates. If I do that, I will get fat and have to hate Cathy forever. "Let's, um, let's go home," she said to me in a voice that promised great things at that destination.

Well, alrighty then! I brightened.

Cathy and I stood, disentangling ourselves as if we had not been totally making out moments before.

Cathy smoothly picked up a napkin and put one of each style truffle on it. "Take these for later, Gwen," she offered like she was the Evil Queen from Snow White.

Cathy laughed. "Temptress!" she scoffed.

"We'll take them," I said hastily. I was not passing up more of those damned things... though I might wait to devour them as after-sex snacks.

Gwen stepped a little too hastily away from Ron, but smiled at Cathy.

Our hostess put her hands on Gwen's shoulders and pulled her in for a hug just like scores of others I'd seen them share at the ends of evenings. She whispered something in Gwen's ears that might have been a question, and Gwen whispered back something that might have made Cathy smile. A few more words between them, and they let go of each other.

"Great night, Ron," I said, shaking his hand like we had just watched the Padres win a double-header, and the hands we were shaking with had not been all over each other's woman's tits seconds before. He nodded his head back, but shot a questioning glance Gwen's way.

I found that I had great faith that Ron had done nothing wrong, and let him see it in my eyes.

In a flash, we were out the front door and walking to the car.

I was going to fuck Gwen so hard before we even got to the bedroom.

The predatory look she gave me as we approached the car told me I might be lucky to make it to the house first.

This was the unspoken plan after all, flirt with Ron and Cathy, then go home and make like rabbits. But I wasn't sure why Gwen had so suddenly advanced the evening's timetable unilaterally. And I felt just a tinge of simple disappointment, thinking that there was a lot more to Cathy's body than just her tits, and I had not had a chance to invent any reason to explore any of those bits yet. This provocation shit was awesome.

I'd ask Gwen about her reasons in the car.

But before I could get my mouth open to discuss it on the ride home, Gwen clawed at my pants. In a flash, she had my cock out of my slacks and into her mouth. The ride home had my lips firmly sealed as I fought to maintain concentration on the road while my woman hungrily but gently sucked my manhood the whole way. I did not come. I was not meant to. But I also sure had not the fucking mental bandwidth for a possible 'what's wrong?' discussion.

Once in our driveway, Gwen in no way put away my cock. She just pulled my fly together over it to give me something to hang onto, and she was out of the car and heading for our door. I followed clumsily, not wanting to waste the effort of putting away something I urgently wanted to deploy.

She had the door unlocked well before I caught up, and I followed her into the living room. I reached out toward her apex predator of an ass, but she spun around toward me and promptly shoved me onto my back on the carpet in the middle of the room between the sideboard and coffee table. Without even taking off her sexy heels, she straddled me, hiking up her skirt.

I grinned up at her, drinking in her wanton expression.

She slid her fingers between her legs. The panties she wore were pretty, and delicate, and easily dislodged. She shoved the gusset aside and in the next second, guided my cock, enraged by a randy evening and some awesome road head, into a dripping nest that reeked of need.

I gasped in shock at how incredible it felt to sink into my woman as she wrestled herself down to encompass me completely. She rode me for a few thrusts, her body molding itself about my cock like a warm embrace. I shivered as she pushed me in and out of her. Then she paused. A pause that, despite the warm vice of kegels around me, threatened to become cruel, until she hissed, "Grab my ass and slam me onto you!"

I was not going to disobey that order. I grabbed her fantastic ass, mostly her hips actually, and started guiding her delicate form up and down on my steel hard six inches. Gwen let me help her ride me and used her freed-up hands to yank her bustier off over her head.

The only problem here was I needed my hands to jam my woman onto my cock hard, but I wanted to use them to grab her breasts. Gwen really had such fabulous mounds, bouncing in my gaze as I made her ride me. Sure, they were not the sizeable edifices that Cathy had, and that I had earlier been enjoying so much, independent of how that enjoyment had been winding Gwen up for this, but Gwen's breasts... They were not my favorite size in the abstract, but it always felt as if my hands had been tailored to fit them like a bespoke suit whenever I grabbed them.

And given how both of us were mutter-moaning at each other as we fucked, I'd have the time to fondle those lovely titties to my heart's content, shortly.

"Oh... fucking fuck, Carl," Gwen moaned. "You provoked me good back there."

I tried to laugh, but it was mostly a gasp. "Ha! That was a helluva red cape you were waving back there yourself."

Gwen just nodded breathlessly. Or her head just wobbled extra hard as she fucked me. "I was provoking myself! And Ron was..." She cut herself off and ground her teeth as her rise and fall along my length transitioned into not much more than a high-amplitude vibration atop me.

She would come in an instant, I knew well. And that was good, because...

Look, even I could hardly be expected to last long this time! Not after all that she and I got up to back there, and then the loving, edging road head all the way home. I was on an uncharacteristically short fuse, is what I'm saying.

I gasped loudly and felt myself unload up into my woman, surge after surge of erotic energy leeching from my body, through my cock, and out into my love. She yelled ecstatically in response.

We both thrashed around a bit, but not long, as we both collapsed, and I pulled her down to cuddle against me on my chest.

"Fuuuuuck," I moaned. "All this provocative shit is amazing!"

"Oh God, yes," Gwen muttered, but not as enthusiastically as I.

"Are you okay, darling?" I asked quickly.

"Situation A-Okay," she half-chuckled. "Like I said, this is all wonderful... but maybe we need to be careful," she added hesitantly.

"Why?" I asked, not wanting anything to interrupt the roll we were on. My cock, while still inside her, may have been a helpless noodle at the moment, but I still was already planning how I'd fuck my woman next.

"I..." she stopped again, hesitant, but not exactly afraid.

"What?" I asked more firmly. "Nothing is too important to ignore your feelings here. Were you getting uncomfortable?"

"I was feeling great, Carl," she said. "Too great. I felt I had better get out of there. But it wasn't because I was rushing to get to this, though this was mind-bending, and you can expect to do some more real soon now. But..."

She stopped again and did not restart.

"But?" I prompted again, gently but emphatically.

"Carl, I was really enjoying myself back there. Really. I'm... I'm afraid that if we hadn't left when we did, I was going to open Ron's pants and fuck him right on that couch, right in front of you and Cathy, and consequences be damned. You'd have had to haul me off him." Her voice was small, and now fully afraid.

I stared into her eyes as I thought over that little piece of information.

"Gwen," I said slowly. "To tell you the truth, I'm pretty sure that I would have done nothing of the kind."

Her eyes widened wordlessly.

I thought some more. "Seriously. As hot and bothered as I was getting with Cathy, watching you with Ron was revving me at least as much. Seeing how turned on you were from an outside view? Him feeling your tits? You kissing him? Rubbing your hand so close to his package? It was..."

"I felt his package. You just must have missed it," she said a little unhappily.

"Oh really?" I teased... enthusiastically?

Yes, enthusiastically.

She looked at me, then finally relaxed and giggled. "Not sure of any specifics inside his pants, but whatever is in there is pretty nice."

"Good for Ron."

"Good for Cathy!"

We both laughed.

I caught her attention again, but took a deep breath before I spoke.

"Gwen," I said, thinking through my words as I came up with them. "You should know, if you had broken down and mounted up on whatever Ron has to offer, I would have definitely not stopped you. And I would have been hoping like hell that Cathy would not either. Because if she had not stopped you guys, then the minute you two had finished, I would have had my dick in her, in one location or another."

"You would not have gone for it immediately?"

"And not get to watch you two? Watch you come? No way I'm missing that like I missed you grabbing his cock."

"I'd have thanked you for holding off and watching," she said quietly.

"Ah! So you also liked being watched, while you did what you did with him?" I chuckled. "You would have wanted to be watched if you'd done anything more?"

"No! Maybe... Yes. By you. I still have no great desire to show off for the world at large. But I mostly meant I'd have wanted to see the whole Carl and Cathy show myself."

We smiled at each other apologetically.

"Mostly, I'd have wanted to see if you could have avoided becoming a total infant once you got those boobies naked!" she said, poking me, suddenly merry.

"Please. You know there is no way I could have avoided that," I snorted. I usually got pretty infantile with Gwen's lovelies, at some point or other. With Cathy's? I'd have been a four month-old.

"Then it's a good thing I have some self-control," Gwen said superiorly.

I just wagged my eyebrows at her, and we resumed cuddling. I sensed that we might each have more thoughts on the whole subject, but neither of us wanted to voice them right then. I wasn't sure we wanted to actually voice them at all. That was okay to me, as I suspected that we were both happy with where we were, and where we'd gone. We were always in sync when we communicated, and I realized that we both preferred to avoid being explicit about what we were doing here, as if being direct would ruin this crazy, wonderful ride. But we each knew we were in this together.

Either way, a glass of water, one of those truffles for each of us, and I was going to put into action some of those plans for fucking my wife for a lot longer this time around.

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The scores on chapters one and two are pretty good, so I guess people are liking the tale. But I am still curious about what everybody is thinking. Pretty much every series I write now is an exercise in telling a hard-to-tell-well story, just to see if I can pull it off. Please let me know what is and isn't working!