Our Journey with Clive

This is a true account of a series of unforgettable experiences with a friend of ours.

First, a little about us. We're a happily married couple who love keeping our sex life open, exciting, and playful. I'm a tall, leggy blonde often complimented on my smile--and, admittedly, my bold streak. My husband, Kobus, is tall, athletic, and a natural party starter. We love each other deeply, and we love adventure even more.

We met another couple, Clive and Annie, slightly older than us. Clive had an air of confidence--he was charming, successful, and carried himself like he owned every room he entered. Annie was sweet and reserved, a contrast to Clive's quiet intensity.

One evening, we had them over for dinner. The wine flowed freely, and the atmosphere grew playful. I noticed Clive staring at a bust on display in the dining room--a cast I'd made years ago of my own breasts.

"That's quite a sculpture," Clive said, walking over to inspect it.

"It's... surprisingly lifelike," he added with a wink.

Kobus grinned. "That's because it is. It's her."

Clive looked between us, amused. "You're kidding."

I leaned in, teasing. "Not at all. It's me--every curve."

Later, while we lingered around the kitchen island, drinks in hand, a mischievous spark flickered in me. I slipped away, pulled off my top, picked up the bust, and returned.

"Still don't believe it?" I said, stepping into the light with the bust in front of my bare chest. "Wanna compare?"

I moved it aside slowly, revealing my breasts. The room went quiet--until Steve stepped closer. Without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed my nipple. His lips were warm, his breath soft.

"Jesus," Kobus muttered, eyes wide with surprise and arousal.

Annie laughed--an incredulous, startled sound. "Well... that escalated quickly!"

The next visit, we had another dinner--more wine, more flirting. After dessert, music started and dancing followed. Just the four of us, playfully swapping partners. Clive's hands wandered more freely this time.

"You move like trouble," he whispered as his hand lingered on my lower back.

I smiled. "Maybe I am."

At one point, when Annie turned away, he leaned in again. "God, I'd love to take you upstairs."

It was bold, and the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. But I only laughed and gave him a wink. "Tempting... but I don't think your wife would approve."

After we moved cities, Clive visited every few months for work. Each time, the tension between us reignited--like static clinging to skin. There were shared laughs, hands brushing where they shouldn't, and more than once, my top somehow found its way to the floor. It became our dance--intimate, risky, thrilling.

Kobus had his concerns. "I like Clive," he told me one night. "But I don't know if he's ready for what might happen if we cross the line. He doesn't talk about this stuff--he just does."

Still, one night, things shifted.

We were once again gathered around the kitchen counter, wine fogging our judgment. My dress had slipped low again. Clive's eyes lingered, lips parted. When Kobus went to the bathroom, Clive leaned in close.

"If you lay back on this counter," he murmured, "I'll make you melt."

My breath caught. There was no hesitation in his voice--just want. I hopped up. As I leaned back, his hands spread my thighs, and his mouth found me.

When Kobus returned, he stopped mid-step, stunned. I met his eyes--and then I moaned. Slowly, a crooked smile crept onto his face. He poured himself another drink and sat down. Watching.

Clive was skilled, patient, and relentless. I was trembling when he finally pulled back.

Next time, the tension was already crackling when Clive walked through the door. After dinner, he leaned in close and whispered, "You remember the counter?"

"I haven't stopped thinking about it," I whispered back.

He led me to the lounge, his hand firm on my back. "Lie down."

I obeyed. He knelt, pulled down my panties, and began again--slow, deliberate, perfect.

When he finally moved over me and entered, my whole body arched. Kobus watched, breath caught, as I cried out his name--my hips lifting high with climax.

Later, Clive asked to watch Kobus and me together, but Kobus shook his head. "Not yet," he said, his voice tight.

Still, Clive was rock hard, and I couldn't leave him like that. I straddled his lap, looking him in the eye, and wrapped my fingers around his length.

"You've got the kind of cock that deserves more than a hand," I said softly.

He groaned under my touch, and I teased him for a long while--slow, steady strokes--until he shuddered and let go.

By the next visit, I was ready to go further. I didn't say a word to Kobus. Instead, I warmed up the Jacuzzi. After dinner, I announced, "Water's ready. Who's up for a naked soak?"

They followed me without hesitation.

The water cooled too quickly, so I grinned. "Shower time?"

The three of us in the shower turned quickly into an intimate frenzy--hands slick with soap, gliding over every inch of my body. They took their time washing me. I loved the feeling of being touched, cared for, desired by both.

Later, in the bedroom, I laid them side by side. Both were thick, hard, and ready.

I straddled Clive. We flirted, kissed, teased. I was aching for him.

Then I guided him inside me.

His eyes widened as I slowly sank down. "Oh... fuck," he breathed.

Kobus sat up, startled. "Wait--you're actually--?"

I smiled, hips rolling. "Too late to stop now."

I rode Clive slowly, savoring the sensation. Then I moved to Kobus, letting him feel what Clive just had. As I bounced gently on him, Clive came behind me, running his hands along my back, over my hips, slipping between my legs. I moaned into Kobus's neck.

Then I collapsed, breathless, spent.

Clive took over, thrusting into me while I writhed beneath him. I was gone--lost in the moment. When he came, I felt it deep and warm.

Kobus took me again after, sliding into me slick with the moment. His pace was rough, fast--he always knew how to finish me.

I came hard, again.

It was raw, thrilling, and unforgettable. That night marked a new chapter--a daring, delicious friendship we'd never forget.

Clive -- Kobus's Perspective

They say trust is the backbone of any good marriage--and ours has that in abundance. But what most people don't understand is that trust can also make space for curiosity, freedom, and even shared temptation.

I'm Kobus. My wife--let's just say she turns heads. Tall, blonde, a natural flirt with a wicked smile. We've always loved keeping things fresh in bed. And sometimes, that means sharing glances, touches, and moments with others.

One of those others was Clive.

We met Clive and his wife, Annie, at a mutual friend's party. They were older than us--Clive, especially, had that seasoned confidence. You could tell he was used to people listening when he spoke. Annie was warm but reserved, always careful, always watching.

That first dinner at our place... it started normal enough. Great food, plenty of wine, laughter echoing through the house. I remember Clive noticing the bust in our dining room--one my wife had made years ago of her own breasts.

"Is this art," he asked with a grin, "or a tribute?"

My wife raised an eyebrow. "It's me."

He chuckled, clearly not believing her. I backed her up, but Steve shook his head. "No way. Too perfect."

Later, while we were standing around the kitchen island sipping our last drinks, she slipped away. I didn't think much of it--until she walked back in with the bust in one hand... and her top nowhere in sight.

"Still think it's not me?" she teased.

I almost choked on my whiskey. She moved the sculpture aside, showing her real breasts--right there in front of Clive and Annie.

Before I could react, Clive stepped in. Calmly. Deliberately. And kissed her nipple.

I froze. Time paused.

Then Annie laughed--a startled, amused sound. I couldn't tell if it was disbelief or delight, but she wasn't angry. That's when I let myself breathe again.

Something shifted that night. Invisible lines blurred.

The next dinner was even more playful. After the meal, music filled the room and dancing started. Just the four of us. My wife moved between us, light on her feet, glowing from the wine and attention. Clive was more handsy than I expected--nothing aggressive, just... bold. Confident.

At one point, he leaned close and whispered something to her. I couldn't hear it, but the look she gave him--half smile, half thrill--told me everything. She told me later: "He said he wanted to take me to the bedroom."

I should have been angry. But I wasn't. I was... intrigued. Turned on, even.

We moved cities after that, and contact became less frequent. But Clive's work brought him to our city every few months. We'd always catch up, usually with wine and laughter--and flirtation that never quite died.

Sometimes her top "accidentally" slipped off again. Sometimes I'd catch Clive looking too long. Sometimes she didn't stop him.

One night, back in the kitchen after too many drinks, I excused myself to the bathroom. When I came back, Clive was between her thighs--right there on the counter--tongue working like a man starved.

I stopped in my tracks.

"Everything okay?" I asked, even though I already knew.

My wife moaned instead of answering.

And in that moment, I realised I wasn't angry. I was hard.

Clive was surprisingly good. She came quickly--breathless and laughing afterward like she'd stolen fire and gotten away with it.

The next visit, tension crackled between them from the start. After dinner, he pulled her aside and whispered something again. I saw it in her eyes: whatever he said had her soaking.

He led her to the lounge, and I followed a few minutes later. She was on the floor, panties already gone. He knelt and went down on her like he was claiming her.

And then he sucked her--right there on the carpet.

I watched as she wrapped her legs around him, her whole body lifting off the floor when she came. She was wild. Glorious.

"Fuck," I murmured, watching her unravel.

Afterward, he asked if he could watch us next. I hesitated. The idea of him seeing that side of us--our deepest intimacy--felt like a leap I wasn't sure we were ready for.

"Nah," I told him, half-apologetic. "Not this time."

Later, as he lay on the floor, hard as a rock, she straddled him and started stroking him--slow, sensual, teasing him like he was hers to play with. I just watched. There was something deeply erotic in seeing her in control like that.

On his next visit, she took things even further.

I had no idea what she had planned. After dinner, she casually announced, "I warmed up the Jacuzzi. Who's joining?"

We all stripped and climbed in. But the water didn't stay warm, so she suggested a shared shower. I raised an eyebrow--but didn't stop it.

The shower turned into a full-blown groping session. My hands slid over her body, slippery with soap, while Clive explored her from behind. She was glowing, moaning, loving every second.

Back in the bedroom, she surprised both of us.

She got us lying next to each other--hard, waiting, wanting. She climbed onto Clive, giggling, flirting--and then she slid him inside her.

I blinked. "You're actually doing this?" I asked.

She just smiled and began to move. Slowly. Deeply.

"I had to feel him," she said, breathless.

She rode him for a few minutes, then turned and climbed on top of me. My cock was still slick from watching her take him, and she slid down on me with ease.

Then Clive moved behind her again, touching her, playing with her as she moaned and rocked on me. It was almost too much--too much lust, too much thrill, too much love and fire and surrender all wrapped together.

Eventually, she collapsed onto her back. Clive mounted her, fucking her hard, her hands gripping his back. I watched her come again--and when he was done, I took my place between her legs.

Sloppy seconds. Her favourite.

She came again--fast, fierce, legs shaking.

We laid there after, a tangle of limbs and sweat and satisfaction. And I realised something:

This wasn't just a night of sex.

It was a deeper bond. A turning point. The start of something new.

And I wasn't afraid of it.

Clive -- My Perspective

From the moment I met her, I knew she was trouble--the kind that made your heart race and your imagination work overtime. She had this boldness, this playfulness that wrapped itself around everything she did. And Kobus... Kobus was solid. Easy to like. The kind of guy who didn't just love his wife--he admired her. It showed in every look he gave her.

That bust--the one in their dining room--was the first clue. When I joked about it and she claimed it was hers, I laughed. I didn't believe it. It looked too perfect. Then she walked into the kitchen, bare-chested, holding the bust in front of her with that smug, sexy grin...

"See, Clive? It really is mine."

For a second, I didn't think. I just leaned in and kissed her nipple. Lightly. A test. A thank-you. Maybe a dare.

Annie laughed in surprise. Kobus didn't say a word. He looked like his brain was trying to catch up with his hard-on.

But he didn't stop me.

That night changed something between us.

Over time, we stayed in touch. Whenever I came to their city, we'd meet up. Every visit was laced with flirtation, teasing, and a slow, deliberate unraveling of boundaries. I didn't know where the edge was--but I wanted to find it.

One night, after dinner and too much wine, she looked at me like she wanted more.

"Kobus in the bathroom?" I asked.

She nodded, already knowing what I meant.

I kissed her again, this time slowly. She leaned back on the kitchen counter, inviting me. Her dress slipped up her thighs, her panties already damp. I dropped to my knees and tasted her. God, she was warm and wet and soft, and she moaned like it had been building for weeks.

That was the first time. The moment we crossed from play into something deeper. Something real.

But the moment I'll never forget--the one that cemented everything--was the next trip.

Dinner ended. We lingered. She was already glowing, already tuned to me.

I leaned in and whispered, "You've been in my head since that night."

"Good," she said, without breaking eye contact.

We moved to the lounge. She pulled me by the hand, her panties slipping away as she lay on the carpet. I knelt, opened her thighs, and devoured her. No hesitation this time. Just hunger. She gasped my name. Her hips bucked, and her fingers tangled in my hair as I sucked her clit, slowly and then harder, her whole body arching.

I felt him enter the room behind me. I didn't stop. Didn't even look up. I knew Kobus was there, and somehow, that only made her wetter.

When she came, her back left the floor. She was crying out, shuddering, a flush rising on her chest. Her release was so pure, so honest, it left me breathless.

And Kobus? He just watched.

That was when I realized: he wasn't threatened. He was turned on.

The door had been opened. And none of us were ready to close it.

By the time I pulled into their driveway for our next visit, I already knew something was different.

There was a tone in her voice earlier in the week when she invited me--casual on the surface, but something was simmering underneath. I'd replayed that last visit too many times: the feel of her thighs tightening around my head, the way her body bucked as I tasted her on the kitchen counter. It wasn't just physical. It was uncharted territory, and I knew we were getting close to something irreversible.

Kobus greeted me like always--open, smiling--but maybe a bit watchful. She, on the other hand, had that glint in her eye again. That mix of danger and play.

After dinner, she stood up and casually announced, "The Jacuzzi's warm if you guys are up for it."

There was no hesitation in her voice. No need to "test the waters." She was leading this.

When we got outside, she peeled off her dress without a word. No underwear. No drama. Just confidence and heat. I followed her in, the water slightly cooler than expected--but not enough to cool me down.

She sat close. Not too obvious, but I felt her skin brush mine more than once. Beneath the surface, our legs found each other. Brief contact. Then again. The silence between us wasn't awkward--it was thick with meaning.

Then she said, "Bit chilly, huh? I think we need a hot shower to warm up."

I didn't even look at Kobus. I just stood, following her lead.

The three of us stepped into the bathroom, water blasting hot now, steam wrapping around us. And then everything shifted. She pressed herself between us like she'd been waiting for this forever. Our hands explored, cautiously at first, then hungrily. Her body was slick with soap, curves gliding under our palms like we were sculpting her in real time.

She moaned--soft, content, present.

It hit me then: we weren't playing anymore. This wasn't teasing. This was her choosing both of us.

When she led us to the bedroom, I felt my heart pounding--not just from arousal, but from that sense that we were crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

And then she straddled me.

I felt her hand on me, her eyes holding mine. She was soaked, trembling, but focused. I thought she was going to stroke me again, tease like last time. But no--she shifted her hips and slid me inside her, just like that.

Hot. Tight. Deep.

My hands froze. My breath caught. I didn't even know if Kobus had seen it happen until I heard a low, stunned breath from his side of the bed.

She didn't move right away--she just held me inside her, like she was claiming me.

I didn't care about lines anymore. I didn't care about rules. In that moment, I just knew this was exactly where we were always headed.

And we weren't going back.

Clive -- After She Took Me Inside Her

She stayed still on top of me at first, like she was giving us all a chance to feel what was happening. Her eyes flicked to Kobus. I didn't look at him--couldn't. I was too focused on her face, the way her expression danced between pleasure and control.

And then she started to move.

Slow. Grinding. Purposeful.

I felt her clench around me with every roll of her hips. I wasn't sure I was breathing. I just stared, mesmerized by the curve of her waist, the way her hair clung wet to her back, the slick sound of our bodies joined. It wasn't just sex--it was her claiming the moment. The look she gave me said: this is mine too.

And then she did something I didn't expect. She leaned forward, pressed her lips to my neck, and whispered, just loud enough for both of us to hear:

"Now it's your turn, Kobus."

She lifted off me with a wet, aching slide and crawled over to him.

I watched her lower herself onto her husband--his face frozen between shock and burning desire. He didn't stop her. He never would. But I knew what it cost him to give up control like that.

Still, the way he groaned when she sank down on him? That told me everything. He wasn't tolerating this--he was in it.

I sat back against the headboard, still hard, watching her ride him. She didn't hold back. Her breasts bounced, her moans came louder now. She was being shared, and she loved it.

That image seared into my mind.

And then, without a word, she leaned forward on Kobus and motioned for me.

I crawled behind her, her body still moving. Her skin was flushed, slick with sweat and shower water. I ran my hands down her back and cupped her ass, watching it bounce in rhythm as she rode him.

I couldn't resist. I pressed myself against her, grinding, teasing. She reached back blindly, found me, and moaned, "Touch me..."

Her voice cracked--need and permission wrapped into one.

So I did. I played with her, touched her clit while she moved on Kobus, then slid my fingers lower. The heat between her legs was feral. We weren't three separate bodies anymore. It was all one, tangled in moans and motion and trust.

Eventually, she collapsed onto her back, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with lust.

I didn't wait. I moved between her legs, and she welcomed me back inside like her body had been waiting. We fucked hard--hungry, driven--and when she came again, it wasn't soft. It was a growl. A claw into my shoulder. A full-body shudder.

When I pulled out, Kobus was already moving toward her.

I lay back and watched him finish what I started--watched her fall into another orgasm while my seed still warmed her insides.

I should've felt jealous. Possessive. But I didn't.

I felt... amazed. Lucky. Changed.

That night didn't just shift our dynamic--it shattered the rules.

And none of us looked back.