Exhibitionist Threesome in Patong

An Exhibitionist Threesome in Patong

The pool party pulsed like it was synced to Lara's hips.

She was barefoot on the smooth tile, hair stuck to her neck with sweat, the hem of her gauzy beach wrap tied high and loose at her hips, just barely hiding the tiny black bikini underneath. The kind of bikini that never stayed in place--and never wanted to.

The DJ had found the perfect tempo. Lazy, filthy reggaeton. Her ass rolled like it had a plan. And from the way people were slowing down mid-drink, stepping out of conversations, turning toward her with hungry glances--they liked the plan.

Especially two guys she'd noticed across the bar.

Tall. Shirtless. Holiday-sun bronzed. One grinned like he knew the ending already. The other watched like he was afraid to blink.

Lara danced closer. Her smile widened, playful, wicked. She gave them her side profile--hips first, breasts lifted high, the knot of her wrap slipping with every sway.

She turned toward them as the bass dropped, bent slightly forward, and looked up under her lashes.

"You boys look thirsty," she said, voice honey-smooth.

The grinner replied, "You look like trouble."

Lara giggled. "You've no idea."

She reached for their hands and pulled them with her. Past the DJ booth, toward the curved glass doors of the hotel suite. The party kept going without them. Lara had her own show planned.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, she tossed her wrap on the bed and strutted to the balcony, hips still swaying. The ocean glittered in the distance, the street below was lit like a festival, and the air was thick with heat and possibility.

Her husband was already out there, camera in hand, leaning lazily against the far end of the railing. He'd been watching since she stepped onto the dancefloor.

She gave him a wink.

He nodded. Red light on. Shutter half-pressed.

Good. They were being filmed.

She turned back to the two men. "Help me out of this top, will you?"

They approached slowly, almost reverently. The taller one stepped behind her. She raised her arms above her head, elbows loose, hips jutting out to one side. The tiny string-tied bikini top clung damp to her chest. He reached around her with both hands, fingers slipping under the fabric--first grazing, then cupping, then squeezing.

She gasped. Her head tipped back against his shoulder.

"Be a dear," she whispered. "Show them."

He pulled the top up and off, revealing her dark nipples, flushed and hard from the breeze. The other guy let out a soft curse. Her husband's shutter clicked. The flash lit her skin.

Lara smiled wide.

Still arms-up, she twisted her hips and presented her backside to the balcony railing. She turned her head slightly, looking over her shoulder, lips parted. Her bikini bottoms were still on, but barely. A wisp of fabric. A single tie.

The guy behind her slid his hand down her spine, then along the curve of her cheek. He didn't pull the knot yet--just rested his palm against the swell of her ass and let his fingers explore the tight stretch of bikini fabric that clung between her cheeks.

Lara bent her knees and slowly pushed her ass out, exaggerating the curve of her lower back, her spine arching like a dancer mid-pose. It wasn't just for balance--it was deliberate, her signature shot. Provocative, exposed, and unapologetically bold.

Her cheeks parted slightly with the shift. She held it, knowing exactly what it looked like from behind--knowing the camera loved it.

Lara moaned.

"You know," she said, "I've been told my ass looks best when I'm holding this pose. Especially when you can see everything."

The man in front of her groaned. The one behind gently tugged the knot loose. The bottoms fell with a flutter.

The air hit her bare cheeks and her thighs twitched. She reached back with both hand, spread herself open just enough to tease.

She licked her lips, eyes half-lidded, then turned her head toward the camera.

"Zoom in, baby," she purred to her husband. "I know this is your favorite pose."

Click.

Click.

Flash.

She arched her back further. "Get closer," she told the man behind her. "Show them how much I like being watched."

He dropped to a crouch. His hands slid to her hips, then to her ass.

One hand on each cheek, he pulled her even wider open for the camera.

Her ass hole fluttered. The soft evening air licked against it. The camera clicked again.

Her husband adjusted the angle slightly. She saw the little green light blink--he's recording this.

Perfect.

The guy behind her leaned in closer. His thumbs circled gently around the rim of her ass, then parted her further.

"Ohh," Lara sighed. "Go on."

He hesitated.

"I said," she purred, looking over her shoulder, "go on. I'm filming this."

His thumb pushed in--just a little. Enough to make her twitch.

The other man stepped beside her, mesmerized. He placed one hand low on her belly, the other curling over her breast again, thumbing her nipple.

"God," he whispered. "You're incredible."

Lara moaned louder. "Don't say it," she gasped. "Make it worth watching."

And then she braced herself, both arms resting against the balcony railing, knees bent just so, her ass fully exposed and glowing under the hotel light. Both men now behind her. One spread her open for the cam. The other slid two fingers--slick with oil from the bedside--slowly into her rear.

Lara cried out, her voice sharp, real, echoing over the city below.

The stretch made her shiver. It was filthy, deliberate--her ass clenching, then fluttering open again around his fingers. Every inch pushed her deeper into that wild, perfect space where pain and pleasure kissed. She felt owned and worshipped all at once. On full display, held open, plugged by eager hands, and framed by hotel light and camera lens. A sex goddess. Shameless. Stretched. Unforgettable.

People were definitely watching.

One of the guys chuckled. "You're trembling."

Lara looked back and grinned. "And that's just the preview."

Lara's arms were still braced on the balcony rail, shoulders gleaming with sweat, her back arched into the night. Phuket's lights flickered below like they were blinking up at her. She didn't care who saw.

Not with one man's fingers still deep in her ass.

Not with the other palming her breast like it belonged to him.

Not with the camera still rolling, lens catching the shine between her legs.

Her husband hadn't spoken. He didn't need to. The shutter clicks were his approval.

The guy kneeling behind her leaned in and whispered, "Ready for more?"

Lara moaned. Loudly. Shamelessly.

"I was born ready," she gasped. "You just keep my legs open, and give them a view worth paying for."

The second man moved in front of her, already hard, already twitching. He gripped her jaw with one hand and her shoulder with the other, angling himself to her mouth.

She opened wide. Greedy. Tongue out. A light moan humming in her throat as she licked his tip, teasing first. Her lips wrapped around him and she sucked him in slow--messy, wet, exaggerated.

He groaned. "Fuck, you're good."

Lara pulled off with a pop. "Not yet I'm not."

She pushed her hips back toward the other man. "Your turn. Take me."

And he did.

One long, slow thrust into her pussy, stretching her wide as he filled her. She cried out, not in pain--but pleasure, raw and filthy. Her head dropped between her shoulders, her mouth open, panting, eyes fluttering.

The guy in front grabbed her hair gently, guiding her back onto his length. She opened up again--eager, spit already dripping from her chin as he started to move.

Two men.

Two holes.

Lara stretched between them, glistening, trembling, performing.

And always, always playing to the camera.

"Keep me open," she gasped between thrusts. "Let them see how full I am."

The man behind grabbed her hips tighter, pulling her back onto him again and again. The wet sounds echoed in the night air--skin on skin, slaps and gasps, slick and loud. Her thighs quivered. Her ass bounced perfectly with each thrust.

The camera caught every detail.

The glow of sweat on her back.

The deep push into her twitching hole.

The way her cheeks jiggled, open and pink, stretched and shiny.

She was gagging a little now--nose pressed into the man's belly, taking him deeper with every stroke. One hand reached between her legs, circling her clit while she was fucked from both ends like it was the only thing she was made for.

She looked to the side--found the lens--and moaned into it.

"They're watching me," she slurred, drool smeared down her chin. "being fucked on camera."

The guy behind was getting close.

She could feel it--his rhythm stuttering, grip tightening, hips bucking.

"Pull out," she gasped. "Finish on me."

And he did.

With a grunt, he slipped out of her, one hand still on her hip, the other stroking fast. His cum spilled across her ass and lower back, thick stripes of heat painting her skin.

She arched into it, loving the feel. One hand reached between her legs, fingers sliding up through her slick folds and pushing in deep--claiming the moment for herself, letting the camera see just how turned on she was. "Mess me up," she moaned. "Give them something to zoom in on."

The other guy wasn't done.

He gripped her face, thumb under her chin, and started stroking himself harder. Lara stayed still, mouth open, tongue out.

Her husband's camera clicked again. Close-up. Perfect lighting.

He groaned once--and came across her lips, cheeks, and chest. She closed her eyes and let it drip.

Then, slowly, theatrically, she scooped a line of it from her breast with two fingers and sucked them clean. Her tongue curled around them, swirling the taste with a satisfied moan as if she were savoring the finest dessert. She made a show of it--eyes fluttering, lips wet, letting the camera linger on every obscene, greedy lick.

"Mmm," she said. "That's two down. What's next?"

She glanced toward the camera and grinned.

Down below, a cheer floated up again--someone had been watching from the street.

"Hope they got a good view," she murmured, sinking to her knees, her skin streaked, her body trembling. "Because I want them to see everything."

She looked up at her husband. "Did you get it?"

He nodded.

"Good," she whispered. "That was just night one."