Married Bliss Pt. 02

The morning after the night before

I sat outside on the kitchen terrace, legs tucked beneath me on the old wooden bench Bernard had refinished years ago. The sea stretched out before me, glittering and endless, its waves soft and lazy in the morning calm. I cradled my coffee between both hands, letting the heat soak into my fingers as the breeze, salted and fresh, slipped into my barely tied robe and skimmed the skin beneath.

I felt... different.

Not just used or sore, though my body still pulsed with the delicious echoes of last night. But settled. Lit from the inside. Like something had quietly shifted and clicked into place.

For so long, I'd lived beautifully, perfectly. Bernard and I had built a life most people only dreamed of. The house, the view, the calm rhythm of success. We'd done everything right. We still did. But recently... something unexpected had been added. Something unspeakably good.

Anton.

I smiled, slow and secretive, taking a sip of my coffee. God, if someone had told me even a few weeks ago that I'd be sitting here like this, robe half open, sex still humming low in my belly, my husband and my lover sleeping just down the hall, I would have laughed. And yet here I was, body aching, lips tingling, skin still marked by the night, and I'd never felt more alive.

Bernard. My beautiful, thoughtful, wicked Bernard. It had been his idea. He'd handed me over, in his way, not out of absence or neglect, but love. Curiosity. Confidence. He knew exactly what he was doing. And he'd watched, joined, shared me. It wasn't chaos. It wasn't betrayal. It was something else entirely, something bolder, more honest. Erotic in the deepest, most powerful way.

I wrapped one arm tighter around my waist, the robe falling open a little more. The sea breeze caught my bare skin, but I didn't move to cover up. No one could see me here. And even if they could... I wasn't sure I'd care.

There was still so much to come. So many fantasies yet to be explored. So many versions of myself I hadn't even met yet. But this version, this woman, glowing and sore and sipping coffee with salt in her hair, I liked her very much.

A night out

The soft rustle of a tissue-thin shopping bag and the quiet click of the en-suite door pulled both their gazes to me. Bernard was already sprawled back on the edge of the bed in his shirt, nursing a neat whisky. Anton stood by the window, all long limbs and smouldering energy, sipping a beer and watching the sky darken beyond the sea.

"Close your eyes," I said, stepping halfway into the room, the bag hanging temptingly from one hand.

They obeyed, instantly.

I made them wait, slowly stepping out of my robe, unwrapping myself piece by piece. My new outfit was made to tease: a sheer mesh bodysuit, wine red, with delicate embroidery that barely covered my nipples, high-cut around the hips to show off every inch of thigh. Over it, a cropped leather jacket that gave it an edge. I slipped on towering heels and slicked on a final coat of red lipstick, my eyes catching my own in the mirror.

"Okay. Look."

Their eyes opened--and oh, the silence that followed. The kind that vibrated with heat.

Bernard gave a low, appreciative grunt, his hand flexing over his thigh. Anton's eyes flicked up and down, mouth slightly parted, then he licked his lower lip slowly. "Jesus, Tracy."

"I figured if we were going out... I might as well give people something to talk about." I turned around slowly, showing off the cheeky sheer cut of the bodysuit, the way the jacket hugged my waist. My curves felt alive under their gaze.

Anton stepped forward, brushing his hand along my hip like he couldn't help himself. "We might not make it out the door like that."

I laughed, leaning into him a little, before turning and straddling Bernard's lap, kissing him slow and deep, my lipstick leaving a faint mark. "Be patient, boys. The night's just getting started."

~~~

The bar welcomed us with a low, sultry buzz--muted lighting, the clink of ice in glasses, and music humming like a heartbeat under it all. We found a booth toward the back, shadowed just enough to feel intimate. As we slid into place, Bernard settled beside me, his hand warm on my thigh, while Anton sat across, his eyes openly scanning every inch of me.

I wore the new wine-red bodysuit--barely-there mesh, hugging my curves, the color deep like ripe fruit, sinful under my black coat. I'd left the coat unbuttoned on purpose. Just enough to show a hint of lace if the angle was right..

"Teasing us already," Bernard murmured as he leaned closer, fingers brushing just inside the hem of my coat, finding the mesh over my hipbone.

"That's half the fun," I smiled, settling in, letting the thrill ripple through me.

We ordered drinks. Bernard's usual, Anton's neat pour of whiskey, and something bold and sparkling for me. I took slow sips, letting the bubbles tickle my tongue as the conversation warmed up, light touches, shared glances, the kind of flirtation that had its own rhythm, unhurried and inevitable.

Anton leaned in over the table, his voice low. "You know exactly what you're doing in that outfit."

"That's the idea," I purred, crossing my legs so the bodysuit stretched tighter under the table. "Keeps you both paying attention."

"You already have all of mine," Bernard said, fingers curling possessively around my thigh.

A second round came, and with it, bolder words, more heat. I reached into my clutch and pulled out my phone, holding it up for a selfie, me between the two of them, lips parted, coat just enough off my shoulder to show the curve of red mesh underneath.

I sent the photo to our group chat with a message:

"Should I take this off when we get home, or let one of you rip it?"

Anton chuckled low and dark, his eyes burning into me. "I'd hate to ruin something that pretty... unless you beg me to."

Bernard just stood, pulling out his wallet to toss a few notes on the table. "Let's get you home before she does."

I slid out of the booth between them, the coat brushing open, just a flash of the bodysuit beneath, and felt their attention coil around me like a leash. Outside, in the cool night, Anton slipped his hand around my waist, Bernard close behind. I was alight, every step a promise.

~~~

The city lights blurred past the window as the Uber eased away from the bar. I slid into the back seat first, the sheer wine-red mesh of my bodysuit brushing softly against the leather. Bernard followed, then Anton, and soon I was tucked between them, warm, electric, and trembling with need.

The coat I wore still hung loose, open just enough to invite looks. I caught Anton stealing one out of the corner of his eye, his hand resting against his thigh like he was restraining himself. Bernard's hand found my knee first, his palm firm, fingers curling slowly upward beneath the edge of my coat. He didn't need to say a word, I could feel his possessiveness humming in the way he touched me.

I leaned toward him, my lips near his ear, my breath soft and thick with want.

"I want to ride him tonight," I whispered. "I want him to cum in me."

Bernard didn't flinch. He didn't even look at me. Just smiled to himself, slow and approving, before giving a subtle nod. "Then that's what you'll do," he murmured, his thumb now stroking my inner thigh.

Between us, Anton shifted slightly, just enough that I felt the heat of his thigh pressed against mine. He must have sensed the energy between me and Bernard, the faint whisper, the way Bernard's hand was now possessively close to where I was already wet and aching.

I turned my head toward Anton, lips parted slightly, daring him with my eyes.

"Are you going to be good for me tonight?" I asked under my breath.

His voice was low, rough. "Only if you make me lose control."

Bernard chuckled quietly. "Oh, she will."

My hand slid over Anton's thigh as we rode on, the motion of the car making it easy to imagine the way I'd grind against him later. My other hand reached for Bernard's, squeezing it as I leaned back into them both. I could feel the tension building in the silence, lust and approval and something deeper laced between the three of us.

By the time we turned onto our road, I was pulsing with need. My coat had slipped from one shoulder, and neither man had tried to adjust it. They didn't want to hide anything anymore. Not tonight.

~~~

The front door clicked shut behind us, and already my coat was sliding off my shoulders, pooling on the floor. Bernard locked the door without looking back. Anton stood still, eyes burning as I stepped out of my heels and led the way upstairs with nothing but the wine-red mesh clinging to my curves, the outline of my nipples already visible through the sheer fabric.

By the time we reached the bedroom, they knew the pace I wanted.

Both men stripped down with calm confidence, lying back on the bed like they'd been waiting all night for this moment. hard, proud, hungry. I knelt between them, breath catching as I took in the contrast of their skin against the sheets, the scent of their arousal thick in the air.

I started with Bernard, kissing slowly down his stomach, teasing him with just my lips, feeling the way his cock twitched as my breath ghosted over it. My tongue finally touched him, slow and flat, and he groaned deep in his throat as I took him into my mouth.

His hand found my hair, gentle but guiding. I bobbed my head slowly, taking my time, lips tight around him, cheeks hollowing as I sucked him deep. Then I turned.

Anton was watching me with that hungry, intense gaze, his cock thick and dark, twitching in anticipation. I moved to him, locking eyes as I licked along his length, letting the taste of him fill my mouth. He groaned as I slid down onto him, his hand curling in the sheets while I took him deep, my jaw stretching deliciously wide to accommodate him.

I went back and forth, savoring the contrast, the thrill of pleasuring them both, tasting the want between us. Their breathing grew heavier, bodies taut with restraint. But I wasn't done teasing them yet.

I rose slowly, standing at the edge of the bed, letting them both watch as I hooked my thumbs under the high-cut line of my bodysuit. The mesh peeled down over my hips, slipping from my skin inch by inch until I stood naked before them, flushed, glistening, powerful.

They both sat up to help, hands greedy and reverent, peeling the garment the rest of the way off. Fingers grazed my thighs, my breasts, my hips. Their hands were everywhere, but I had already made up my mind. Anton was going to be first.

I pushed him back down with a firm hand on his chest, straddling his thighs, my knees sinking into the bed. His cock stood proud between us, and I reached down to guide him to my entrance, already slick and throbbing with need.

I sank down onto him slowly, letting him stretch and fill me inch by inch.

My lips parted in a gasp as he filled me completely, my hands braced on his chest. I started to move, slow and steady at first, rocking my hips in circles, grinding deep, claiming him fully while Bernard knelt behind me, watching, stroking himself slowly.

Anton moaned beneath me, his head rolling back as I began to ride him with purpose, my body electric, my breath ragged. My hands slid up his chest, nails digging in as I fucked him harder, faster, until I was shaking with the intensity of it, my climax building with a heat that made me dizzy.

And when it hit, when I clenched around Anton with a cry and came hard, back arched, thighs trembling, I didn't stop. I rode it out on his cock, letting the pleasure ripple through me, knowing there was still so much more to come.

Anton's cock throbbed deep inside me as I moved above him, grinding and rolling my hips with greedy rhythm. My hands roamed his chest, nails dragging lightly across his skin, but it was his hands I wanted on me.

I leaned forward, bringing my breasts closer to his face, and his hands rose like he couldn't help himself. He cupped them, full and heavy in his palms, his fingers kneading the softness, thumbs grazing over my nipples with just enough pressure to make me gasp.

"God, they're perfect," he groaned, squeezing and rolling them, his dark eyes locked onto mine with an urgency that made my whole body tighten again.

"Keep playing with them," I murmured, my voice low and breathy as I rocked against him, feeling every thick inch of his cock slide inside me. "Just like that."

He obliged, a little rougher now, pulling and teasing my nipples until my body was tingling from head to toe. I leaned down, bringing my mouth to his ear, my breath hot against his skin.

"I want you to cum in me, Anton," I whispered, hips grinding slower but deeper, my voice trembling with lust. "I want to feel it. Fill me up."

His hands tightened on my breasts, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "You sure?" he asked, voice raw and strained.

I nodded, never breaking rhythm. "Yes. Please... I want it."

That tipped him over.

His grip on me tightened, fingers digging into my skin as his hips thrust up to meet mine. I gasped as he took over, pumping into me from below with ragged, powerful strokes until his whole body went taut. Then I felt it, his cock pulsing inside me, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into my cunt.

I moaned at the sensation, loving how it filled me, how it kept me connected to him even as I slowed, my body melting against his.

We stayed like that for a few long, breathless seconds, his hands still tenderly cupping my breasts, my fingers curled in the sheets beside his head, our breath mingling as we came down together.

And just behind me, I could feel Bernard moving closer. I was still trembling, my thighs slick and trembling around Anton's hips, when I felt Bernard's hands slide over my back, warm and familiar. He leaned in, his chest brushing my spine, his breath hot against my neck.

"You looked incredible," he murmured, kissing the curve of my shoulder. "Feeling him cum inside you... was that everything you wanted?"

I nodded, still panting, my body deliciously spent and yet aching for more. "Mmm... more than I expected," I whispered.

His hand slid down my spine, between the cheeks of my ass, fingers trailing over where Anton's cock was still buried inside me, our mixed arousal dripping from my swollen folds. I shivered.

"Don't move," Bernard said, his voice thick now. "Stay right where you are."

I felt him shift behind me, the weight of his body pressing closer. His cock, already hard again, nudged between my cheeks, and I arched instinctively, opening for him. He guided himself with one hand, pushing slowly into me from behind, so slowly that I gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled again, the dual stretch making me cry out softly.

"Oh, fuck..." I moaned, body trembling as Bernard slid in deep, right on top of Anton's softening length still buried inside me.

"God, you're full," he groaned, holding my hips steady as he bottomed out, his cock thick and hot, pushing everything deeper. "You feel so fucking good like this."

I whimpered, hips pinned between them, my body nothing but sensation. Bernard began to move, slow, purposeful strokes that stirred everything inside me, forcing Anton's cum to spill and drip over my thighs with each push.

Beneath me, Anton groaned softly, still caressing my breasts, watching me get taken all over again. "You love this, don't you, Tracy?" he murmured, pinching my nipples gently. "Being used like this. Owned."

I moaned a yes, too breathless for words, rocked between the two men I craved, my whole body surrendering to them. Bernard's thrusts grew faster, deeper, his grip tightening on my hips as he fucked me hard, taking what was his.

"Let me hear you," he growled in my ear. "Let Anton hear what it's like when your husband fucks you full."

I gave it to him, all the cries, all the tremors, everything. And when I came again, shaking and slick and undone between them, I collapsed forward, my cheek against Anton's chest, mouth open on a moan as Bernard pushed deep and spilled his cum inside me too, hot and claiming. I was filled, claimed by both of them and I never wanted it to end.

They eased me down gently, their hands warm, reverent. Bernard kissed my back, my shoulders, while Anton stroked my thighs, both of them murmuring praise, soft and low.

I lay there in the heat of it all, my body throbbing and stretched, utterly used, utterly adored. My legs trembled as I shifted, Bernard slipping out with a wet sound, and the thick mixture of their cum began to seep slowly from between my thighs. I reached down, idly curious, my fingers sliding through the mess they'd left inside me.

It was filthy. And I loved it.

Without overthinking, I brought my fingers to my lips. The taste was sharp, warm, musky--familiar and new at once. Bernard's richness, Anton's saltiness, and me... all tangled together. I sucked softly, eyes fluttering shut, lost for a moment in that final act of submission. My tongue circled, teasing the last of the taste from my fingers.

Anton let out a low groan from where he reclined on the bed. Bernard's eyes darkened as he watched.

"You are... unreal," Bernard murmured, pulling me close again, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

I melted into his embrace, my body exhausted but humming, sated in a way I'd never felt before. We were tangled across the bed--three bodies, sweat-slicked and smiling, the sheets ruined beneath us.

Lying there, head resting against Bernard's chest, I let the stillness settle around us.

I'd just let my husband and another man fill me--claim me, share me, adore me. I wasn't ashamed. I wasn't conflicted. I felt alive. More alive than I had in years. My body still buzzed from the attention, the weight of their lust, their hands, their heat. Every part of me felt unlocked. Open.

Anton reached over and brushed hair from my face, his fingers gentle now. I looked at him, then at Bernard. Both of them smiled.

"I don't think this was a one-off," I whispered.

Bernard chuckled. "No. Not even close."

"Good," I breathed, heart full and body humming.

Out in the open

Kate looked stunning, as always, forty-nine and recently divorced, but with the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly what she wanted. Her brunette hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, styled to effortless perfection. She wore snug jeans that hugged her hourglass curves and a silk blouse that dipped just low enough to show she hadn't given up on flirting with life.

Her full lips curled into a warm smile as I welcomed her in with a hug. "You look amazing," she said, pulling back to take me in.

"So do you," I replied, meaning it. She always looked like she could've stepped off the set of a glamorous photo shoot, voluptuous, high-cheekboned, eyes lined just enough to suggest mischief. Like the brunette version of a Richelle Ryan daydream.

We sat on the patio with glasses of crisp white wine, the sea air breezing through. It was just two old friends catching up, laughter, the occasional gossip, a toast to how much better we both looked than we had at thirty.

Then, as the conversation quieted for a moment, Kate glanced at me sideways. "So... I heard something curious the other night."

"Oh?"

"I was at that wine bar in town. Someone said they saw you there, with a younger man. Very attractive. Very attentive." Her smile turned sly. "Was it just your nephew, or is there something you'd like to share?"

I sipped my wine to stall the grin tugging at my lips. "You know I don't have a nephew."

Kate opened her mouth to tease me more, but just then Bernard stepped into view from the hallway, casually dressed in running gear. He leaned down without hesitation and kissed me on the mouth, warm and affectionate.

"Heading out," he said, then smiled at Kate. "Good to see you again, Kate."

She blinked, caught a bit off guard. "You too, Bernard."

And then, Anton. Shirtless, sweat-slicked from a quick warm-up, appearing just behind Bernard. He gave me a devilish smirk and casually reached out, his large hand squeezing my bare shoulder as he passed.

"See you soon," he murmured with a wink, before heading down toward the beach with Bernard.

Kate sat frozen for half a second.

"Was that..." she began, eyes wide, still watching the open doors. "That was him, wasn't it?"

I didn't say anything. I just smiled, and drank.

Kate stood suddenly, setting her wine down. "Well--I really should be going. Just remembered I have... something. Somewhere."

"Of course," I said smoothly, rising to walk her to the door.

She kissed my cheek, her voice an octave higher than usual. "You'll have to tell me everything sometime."

"Maybe," I said. "If you really want to know."

Her eyes lingered on mine, equal parts disbelief, curiosity, and something else. Then she turned and left, her heels clicking away down the stone path, the sound slowly swallowed by the crash of waves nearby.

Ready to tell

It was surprising how quickly things settled into a rhythm, our rhythm. Just a few weeks ago, this would've felt unthinkable. But now, waking up between two warm bodies, hearing the sound of the sea through the open windows, and sharing lazy, indulgent mornings had become my new normal.

Anton had moved in.

Not just his clothes or his toothbrush, his presence. His energy. His gorgeous laugh echoing through the halls, his protein shake cups always in the dishwasher, his bare chest glistening with sweat as he came back from a run with Bernard, both of them glowing like gods. He had left behind his dull nine-to-five, emboldened by the space and support we gave him. He was pursuing his personal training dreams now, offering sessions out of the home gym Bernard had once built just to show off.

The freedom of his new routine meant he was around. A lot. And I loved it.

The three of us had become a seamless unit. Meals together, planning sessions, workouts, movie nights and of course, the kind of passion that could make the walls blush. Each dynamic was different. Bernard and I still had our slow, layered intimacy. Anton brought the raw, unfiltered heat. And between them, I felt powerful, cherished, absolutely alive.

So when my phone buzzed that mid-morning as I sipped coffee on the terrace, the name Kate made me pause.

"Fancy a walk along the beach? I could use a friend."

She hadn't messaged since that slightly awkward afternoon visit, hadn't asked for the gossip, hadn't followed up, not even a flirty emoji. I stared at the screen for a moment, curious about her tone. It wasn't teasing. It wasn't prying.

It felt... different.

"Of course. Meet you at the usual spot in an hour?"

I looked up, the sun warming my skin. Somewhere inside the house, Anton was singing along to music while prepping for a client session. Bernard was on a call. My world, my new life, felt beautifully solid.

But I was ready to see what Kate really wanted to say.

~~~

I stood at the long mirror in the bedroom, slipping a loose ivory halter-neck top over my head. The fabric was soft and slightly sheer, catching the breeze that drifted in from the open balcony doors. I'd paired it with light beige linen trousers, low-slung on my hips, and flat leather sandals, effortless, coastal, just enough elegance to make it clear I'd thought about this meeting. My nipples pressed lightly against the inside of the top, and I left it that way. Unapologetic.

Before heading downstairs, I found Bernard in the study, seated in the old leather chair he loved, tapping away on his laptop. He looked up when he saw me, his smile softening as his eyes skimmed over me.

"Walk with Kate?" he asked.

I nodded. "She messaged out of the blue. Says she wants a catch-up." I hesitated, stepping into the room. "If it comes up... are you okay with me talking to her about... us?"

He tilted his head, considering me with that steady calm of his. "About Anton, about how we live now?"

"Yes," I said quietly, "only if it feels right. Only if she asks."

Bernard closed the laptop, reached for my hand, and pulled me close so I stood between his legs. "I trust you. Just don't feel like you owe her anything. But if you want to tell her, that's different."

I kissed him, slow and grateful. "I won't give away anything you wouldn't want shared."

"You can tell her you're deeply loved," he murmured into my collarbone. "That part's important."

Twenty minutes later, I walked down the path toward the edge of the dunes, where the sea breeze danced through the grasses and the sky felt wide and endless. Kate was already there, leaning against the old wooden fence, her dark hair tumbling in glossy waves over her shoulders.

She wore a pale olive halter-neck sundress, fitted at the waist, the hem brushing just below her knees. Bare shoulders, a bronzed glow to her skin, big sunglasses that gave her an almost movie-star air. But real, approachable, if not a little sharp when she wanted to be.

She turned, spotting me, and smiled with something between warmth and curiosity.

"Still look like you belong in a beachside magazine spread," she teased. "I've missed this."

I laughed, greeting her with a quick hug. "Me too. Let's walk."

The tide was low, the beach wide and open. We kicked off our sandals and let the cool sand shift under our feet as we wandered toward the water's edge. The breeze lifted our hair, and for a while we just chatted, catching up on everything that had nothing to do with that night.

She told me about her new place, small, light-filled, still full of boxes she hadn't unpacked. She'd started swimming in the mornings and had picked up yoga again. I listened, smiling at the little changes, the pieces of herself she was reclaiming after the divorce.

"And you?" she asked, glancing sideways. "You look..." Her eyes flicked over me again. "Glowing. Rested. Smug, even."

I laughed, nudging her hip with mine. "Smug? That's harsh."

She smiled, but it faltered slightly. "No, I mean... good-smug. Like... full. Settled. But in a really surprising way."

We walked a little further before she stopped suddenly, her arms folding across her chest. "Okay," she said, letting out a breath. "I owe you an apology."

I turned to face her.

"That day I came by. When I saw... well. Him." She glanced toward the sea, then back at me. "Anton. Right?"

I nodded slowly.

"I left like I'd seen a ghost, and I'm sorry. It wasn't that I was judging, okay, maybe I was a little, but more than that, it just triggered something in me. Caught me completely off guard."

I stepped closer. "I understand. Really."

She gave a tight, appreciative smile. "Thing is, it's been on my mind ever since. I keep thinking about that moment. About how natural it all looked... him walking through like he belonged there. Bernard giving you that kiss like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. And... Anton's hand on your shoulder."

She shook her head slightly, laughing at herself. "I can't pretend I haven't been curious. I mean, what is going on? Are you... all three of you...?"

She left it hanging in the air, as if even forming the question made her breath catch.

I smiled gently at Kate's question, watching the breeze toy with her hair as she searched my face for answers. "It's... not simple," I said at last. "But it works. For us."

She tilted her head, lips parting, but didn't interrupt.

"It's not like we planned it," I went on, keeping my tone light, testing the waters. "Anton came into our lives at a strange time. And then something just... shifted."

Kate's brows drew together slightly. "And Bernard's okay with it? I mean... it's more than okay, isn't it?"

I nodded slowly. "He encouraged it. We talk, a lot. Everything's honest. That's the only reason it works."

Her eyes widened a little. "So... you and Anton... but Bernard too? You all...?"

I gave her a small, playful smirk. "We share. Intimately. We all enjoy each other, just... in different ways."

Kate flushed. I saw her throat move as she swallowed hard, blinking at the horizon. "I--wow."

I stepped beside her again, our arms brushing as we resumed walking. "I wasn't going to bring it up unless you asked. But I'm glad you did. It's good to have someone know."

She glanced at me, something shifting in her expression. A mix of wonder and disbelief. "You're really happy, aren't you?"

I stopped and faced her, my smile softer now. "Yeah. I am."

Her mouth lifted at one corner. "I guess that's all that matters."

We hugged before parting, warm and unhurried. She held on for a moment longer than expected, and I felt the silent curiosity radiating from her. She didn't ask more, but I could tell she wanted to.

~~~

That evening, over dinner with Bernard and Anton, I recounted everything. How Kate had asked, how I'd explained it gently, how she'd reacted.

They both listened quietly, forks pausing mid-air.

"She was shocked, sure," I said, "but also... fascinated."

Bernard smiled, his eyes warm with approval. "You handled it well. You didn't give too much, just enough."

"I told her I was happy. That we were happy."

Anton leaned back in his chair, nodding. "That's the truth."

Then I pulled out my phone and showed them the photo I'd snapped of Kate from the walk--a candid one, her hair caught in the wind, the sunlight making her eyes glow.

Anton let out a low whistle. "Damn. She's gorgeous."

Bernard chuckled. "You're not wrong."

"She's recently divorced," I added innocently.

Anton gave me a slow, knowing smile. "Noted."

We all exchanged a look. No one said anything outright--but the seed had been planted.

That's a first

There are moments when everything in my world feels exactly, exquisitely right. Moments like this.

I was already on my knees--my favourite place--between the two men I adored in such different, delicious ways. Bernard stood to my left, Anton to my right, both naked, towering over me like gods made flesh. I felt their heat, their scent, the pulsing anticipation between us. Their cocks were already hard, thick, heavy with need, and I felt giddy, drunk on the knowledge that this--this--was just for me.

I wrapped a hand around each of them, slowly stroking, feeling the contrast of skin, size, texture. My mouth watered. My breath was already coming fast.

I started with Bernard, my lips sliding over his tip, tongue swirling. He groaned, hand resting gently at the back of my head. But then I turned to Anton, taking him deep with practiced hunger, the weight of him stretching my jaw in the best way. The men let me take my time, switching between them, worshipping them, tasting them, teasing them. Their soft grunts and murmurs of approval filled the room--my reward.

"Look at her," Anton murmured. "Fucking made for this."

"She loves it," Bernard said, voice low. "She's glowing."

I was. I felt it. My nipples were tight, aching, rubbing against the fabric of the silk robe I hadn't bothered tying. My thighs were slick with need. I moaned around Bernard's cock before popping off and licking a wet stripe along his shaft.

"Want more?" I asked breathlessly, gazing up at them.

Bernard smiled. "Let's give our girl exactly what she's craving."

I crawled up onto the bed, the sheets still warm from earlier touches. My body was already humming, sensitive from the build-up, from the pleasure of kneeling between them, from the shared desire in their eyes. I needed more. I needed them.

I was already trembling as I straddled Anton, his thick shaft pulsing beneath me, slick with the wetness from my mouth. His hands guided my hips as I sank down onto him slowly, savoring every inch. My body opened for him easily, welcoming him deep inside me as I let out a low moan. He groaned beneath me, his fingers digging into my hips.

"You feel perfect," he said, watching me move.

I was lost in the rhythm, the slow grind of my hips, when I felt Bernard kneel behind me. His hands slid over my back, gentle, reassuring, familiar. My heart started to race. He knew what this meant--what we'd talked about. What I'd asked him for.

He leaned close, his voice a whisper against my ear. "Are you ready, sweetheart?"

I nodded, breathless. "Yes. I want it. I want you there."

I felt his hands part my cheeks, his fingers teasing and slick with warm lube he must've prepared. I gasped as he worked it in with slow care, circling and pressing, easing me open. Anton watched, his breath catching as he stilled deep inside me.

"You're beautiful like this," he murmured.

I felt Bernard's tip press against my tightest entrance, and I braced my hands on Anton's chest, breathing deeply. Bernard moved slowly, inching forward, pausing, waiting as I adjusted. It burned--just a little--but I trusted him completely.

He kept whispering, soothing, guiding me through it.

"That's it, baby. Almost there. You're taking me so well."

And then I felt him slide in fully.

The sensation was overwhelming--full and intense. I whimpered, my whole body straining to take both men at once. Anton stroked my thighs, grounding me. Bernard's hands were firm on my hips now, steadying me as I adjusted.

Then they began to move--Anton thrusting up gently into my pussy while Bernard rolled his hips behind me, taking his time. I was filled to the edge, every nerve alight, pleasure sparking in places I hadn't known existed.

"Oh my god," I gasped. "I can't believe how good this feels."

"You're incredible," Bernard groaned, his voice thick with awe. "So tight. So perfect."

The two of them found a rhythm--one withdrawing as the other pushed in--and I gave myself to it completely. Their sounds mixed with mine, the soft slap of skin, the low moans, the scent of sex all around us. I'd never felt so desired... or so utterly owned.

The orgasm snuck up on me, sharp and consuming. I cried out, shaking, body locking around them both. Anton gritted his teeth, thrusting hard as he emptied himself inside me. Bernard held back until I was trembling again--then I felt the sudden heat of his release as he groaned and spilled deep inside my ass.

I collapsed between them, utterly spent, filled in both places, my body shaking with aftershocks.

My entire body trembled.

Bernard had just pulled out of my ass, my first time taken there, and it left me raw, open, and absolutely overflowing with sensation. I lay sprawled across him, my back slick with sweat, his cum already beginning to dribble from my stretched rear as I blinked through the aftershocks.

He kissed my shoulder. I felt him smile against my skin as his hand stroked up and down my side. I was so full of him--every inch of me claimed, stretched, aching in the most delicious way. And then I heard Anton's voice, low and close.

"She's incredible like this, Bernard..."

Bernard gave a low, satisfied chuckle. "She's still yours to enjoy."

Anton moved between my legs, kneeling, his fingers tracing up my inner thigh. I whimpered when he brushed the slick folds of my pussy, still so sensitive, still desperate for more. I tilted my hips toward him, silently begging.

He didn't tease long.

I felt the heavy weight of his cock nudge at my entrance. My breath caught. I was soaked--wet from before, from my own release, from the intensity of Bernard's possession--and when Anton pushed forward, I cried out.

His thick, black shaft slid inside me, and the stretch was glorious. Different from Bernard--bigger, harder, so deep. My pussy clenched greedily around him, drawing him in with hungry desperation. I arched beneath him, hips meeting his slow thrusts as he bottomed out inside me.

"Oh my god, Anton," I gasped, eyes fluttering closed.

He leaned over me, his voice hot in my ear. "You feel so full already... dripping with Bernard's cum, and now you're going to take mine too."

I moaned, writhing beneath him. His cock was slick, his thrusts smooth and relentless. He held my wrists down gently, then let go just so he could reach up and cup my tits, playing with them, tugging my nipples while he fucked me harder.

"Look at her," Bernard said, his voice thick with pride and desire. "Used, open, completely ours."

Anton groaned, gripping my hips now, fucking me faster. "She's perfect like this... absolutely perfect."

I couldn't hold back--the angle, the stretch, the ache... it all built into another sharp, devastating orgasm. I screamed as I came again, pussy clenching around Anton's cock, my whole body jerking under the pleasure.

He couldn't hold back much longer. With a deep, broken growl, Anton buried himself to the hilt and came--filling me on top of the cum that was already leaking from my ass.

I collapsed back against Bernard's chest, completely spent, gasping for air. My body was a mess--smeared with sweat, with both their releases, every hole used and aching. I loved it.

I'd never felt more wanted... more alive.

The room was quiet, lit only by the dim glow of the low lamp on the dresser. The air was heavy with sex and salt and skin, and the three of us lay tangled together in the crumpled sheets, our breathing slowing, hearts finally settling into a steady rhythm.

I was nestled between them, my head resting on Bernard's chest, one of Anton's big hands lazily stroking up and down my thigh.

None of us spoke for a while. It was one of those silences that didn't need filling, the kind that said everything in the warmth of touch, the exchange of glances, the lingering pulse of pleasure still humming through my body.

Then Bernard broke the stillness with a gentle murmur.

"You know... I keep thinking about Kate."

I stirred slightly, lifting my chin to look at him. "Me too," I admitted softly. "She's been on my mind since the beach."

Anton chuckled under his breath. "She couldn't take her eyes off you that day. Or me. Or the way you melted between us."

Bernard gave a low, thoughtful hum. "There's something there. Curiosity, at least. Maybe more."

"She's recently divorced," I said slowly, tracing lazy circles across Bernard's chest. "And I think she's been lonely for a long time. She hides it well, but... I felt it, when we walked together."

Anton shifted beside me. "You think she'd ever... want to join us?"

My heart skipped at the idea. The three of us had created something intense, something special. But the thought of another woman, especially one I knew, one I trusted, entering our dynamic? It made my skin prickle with heat.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I think she's curious, maybe even craving something different. But she's proud, guarded. We'd need to be delicate."

Bernard nodded. "We don't push. We make space. Let her see the way we are... and if she wants to lean in, she will."

Anton grinned. "Maybe we start small. Invite her over again. Dinner. Drinks. Let her feel it, not just hear about it."

"Or maybe..." I added, a playful thought creeping in, "I open up a little more. Subtly. Drop a hint. Let her ask."

Bernard's hand slid through my hair, his touch gentle. "You're good at that," he said. "Just being you, open and radiant. She'll come to you if she's drawn in."

"She was flustered last time," Anton said. "But she didn't run because she was scared. It was something else. Excitement, maybe."

I smiled to myself, imagining it. Kate here, with us. Watching. Maybe joining. My mind began to wander again.

"She's beautiful," I whispered. "And I trust her."

There was a soft silence. Then Bernard spoke again.

"Let's give it time. Let her come to us... and if the moment ever feels right, we make it clear she's welcome."

Anton leaned in, kissing the curve of my shoulder. "Until then," he said with a lazy grin, "we've got more than enough to keep us busy."

I laughed quietly, feeling full of love, lust, and possibility.

The Invite

It started with a message earlier in the week.

Kate: "Hey... hope it's not weird to say, but I keep thinking about that evening I came over. Do you fancy catching up again sometime soon?"

Her timing was perfect, casual, open, but there was something underneath. I smiled at the screen, rereading it before I replied.

Me: "How about a chilled BBQ this weekend? Just us and the boys. Nothing fancy."

Kate: "Sounds perfect. I'll bring wine."

And just like that, Saturday rolled around.

The house was glowing in the late afternoon light, the air warm and scented with rosemary from the garden. Bernard stood by the BBQ in loose navy shorts and a white linen shirt left open, tongs in hand, already sipping something tall and cold. Anton, barefoot and golden in the sun, wore black athletic shorts and nothing else, not that he needed to. His body spoke for itself.

I kept it breezy, too, a floaty wrap dress in pale peach with nothing underneath, just enough to whisper suggestion when the wind caught it. I wore it for both of them, of course, but I had a hunch Kate might appreciate it too.

When she arrived, I greeted her with a warm hug. She looked radiant in soft blue denim shorts and a fitted sleeveless top in coral, her dark brown hair loose and just tousled enough to seem effortless. Sunglasses perched on her head, wine in hand, she looked like she belonged.

We eased into things over drinks on the patio, Bernard manning the grill, Anton passing around plates, and Kate and I catching up as if no tension had ever existed.

Eventually, we settled on the bench just off to the side, the garden spreading out around us. I let our legs press together as we talked, and when she made a cheeky remark about Anton's abs, I laughed and casually placed my hand on her thigh.

It was innocent enough. Just a touch. She looked down, then up, eyes wide for a beat before softening. She didn't move away. Instead, she leaned a little closer.

"Is this your idea of behaving?" she whispered playfully.

"Not even slightly," I whispered back.

And from the grill, as if on cue, Bernard turned and grinned. "Hope you two are being good over there."

Kate blushed. I just smiled, fingers still resting on her leg.

~~~

Dinner melted into the golden hour, and the boys, full and mellow, drifted off inside with fresh drinks and excuses, Bernard checking a message on his laptop, Anton disappearing upstairs with a towel slung over one shoulder.

That left just the two of us on the patio. The wine was flowing, our sandals kicked off beneath the bench. I'd loosened the tie on my wrap dress, letting the neckline slip a little lower, just enough to feel the evening breeze brush against bare skin.

Kate had kicked one leg up beneath her, leaning comfortably toward me. Her cheeks were flushed from the sun and wine, her eyes brighter, more open than they'd been earlier. Her top clung to her in all the right ways, the shape of her breasts shifting softly as she moved.

"I wasn't expecting this," she said, voice low, as if afraid to break the spell.

"This?" I asked, sipping slowly from my glass.

She gave a quiet laugh. "All of it. You... the way you've changed. How free you seem. I was jealous at first. Still am, maybe."

I turned toward her, close enough that our knees touched. "You can ask anything. Or say nothing. I just want you to feel comfortable."

She looked at me, long and lingering. "I don't feel uncomfortable," she said. "That's the problem."

I smiled. "Good."

The silence stretched, warm and full.

Then, slowly, deliberately, I reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath caught, just for a second, but she didn't pull away. Her skin was warm beneath my fingertips. I let my hand trail down, fingers brushing her jaw, then her collarbone.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked.

She nodded once.

And then we were there, lips brushing first, gentle, tentative, before settling into something deeper. She tasted of wine and warmth, of nervous curiosity and something hungry underneath. Her hand found my waist, fingers sliding around the soft curve of my hip, and I melted into her touch.

The world shrank to just us. The distant sound of waves. The hum of summer insects. The quiet throb of want between us.

I pulled back just enough to whisper, "I've thought about this before."

Kate's eyes flickered with something unspoken, her voice husky. "So have I."

We stayed close, forehead to forehead, our hands still exploring gently, nothing rushed, just the soft, electric truth of discovery.

~~~

Kate's Uber pulled up just as the sky turned indigo, casting soft shadows across the patio. We stood close at the edge of the drive, her body still warm from the wine and that kiss.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, voice soft, her fingers brushing my hand.

"You're always welcome," I whispered, leaning in. I pressed one last gentle kiss to her lips -- slower this time, lips parting just slightly, letting the promise linger.

When we broke apart, her cheeks were pink, eyes wide, breath a little uneven.

"Goodnight, Tracy."

"Goodnight, Kate."

She slipped into the Uber, and I stood barefoot on the warm stone path, watching the car disappear down the lane before I turned and padded back into the house.

I closed the door behind me, the cool hush of the house wrapping around me after the heat of the evening. My skin still tingled from that kiss -- soft, questioning, lingering. Kate's lips. The look in her eyes.

Bernard was already inside, lounging on the edge of the bed in our room, shirt open, drink in hand. Anton leaned against the doorway to the en suite, barefoot, his arms crossed, a slow smile playing at his lips.

"You look... smug," Bernard said as I stepped in.

I bit my lip, heart racing. "I kissed her."

Bernard's brows lifted. "Come here."

I let the fabric of my dress fall to the floor, stepping out of it. No bra, no panties -- just me. Bernard guided me to the bed, gently pressing me down onto my back. Cool sheets met my skin, heightening every sensation.

"Tell me what happened," he said, straddling my chest, his cock already hard in his hand. He slid it along the swell of my breasts before nestling it between them.

I looked up at him, wrapping my hands around the soft weight of my breasts to squeeze him tight between them. "She thanked me for the night. We stood close... then I kissed her. Slow, tender at first. Then I wanted more."

"Of course you did," he growled.

Just then, Anton knelt at the foot of the bed, easing my thighs apart. He didn't say a word -- just lowered his mouth and began to lick. Deep, hungry strokes that made me gasp and arch, trapped between Bernard's cock above me and Anton's mouth below.

Bernard began thrusting between my breasts, slow and deliberate. "And did she kiss you back?"

"Yes," I moaned. "She was warm. Soft. She didn't want it to stop."

Anton's tongue pressed harder, circling my clit with expert precision. My hips began to roll, helpless to stop the rising wave of pleasure. I could barely keep speaking. "She... she looked at me like she wanted to know everything."

Bernard grunted, picking up his pace. "Like you're mine?"

I nodded, barely able to think. "Yes. Yours."

"I want her to know exactly what that means," he growled, fucking my tits harder now, his shaft gliding wetly between them.

Anton pushed two fingers into me as he sucked my clit, and I cried out, trembling against the sheets, body shaking as the first orgasm crashed over me.

But they didn't stop.

Bernard leaned forward, his cock brushing my chin now. "Open."

I did, eagerly taking him into my mouth, tasting the salt and musk of him as he began to fuck my throat, shallow at first, then deeper.

Anton never stopped working between my legs, tongue relentless, until I came again -- harder this time -- muffled by Bernard's cock as I moaned into him, the pressure building unbearably sweet.

I was completely theirs -- lying bare and open, filled with pleasure, flooded with memory and desire and delicious, filthy satisfaction

~~~

I lay between them, my skin still flushed and warm, my thighs damp and trembling. Bernard's hand traced lazy circles on my stomach, his breath slow and steady. Anton was on his side, one arm tucked under his head, the other trailing along the curve of my hip.

We were quiet for a moment, the only sound the low hum of the sea through the open window.

Then I spoke, voice husky and a little uncertain. "I guess I just need to ask her."

Bernard turned his head. "Ask her what, exactly?"

I exhaled slowly. "What she's hoping for. Whether she'd ever want to... join us." I paused, then added, "Or just me. Or either of you. I don't want to assume anything."

Anton gave a low hum of approval. "Bold move. But smart."

Bernard nodded. "It's better to know. You two definitely had a moment tonight." He smirked. "I've rarely seen someone look that flustered from a kiss."

I smiled faintly, heart still racing. "It didn't feel casual. But it didn't feel decided either, you know?"

"She might not even know what she wants yet," Anton said, rolling closer, his hand resting on my thigh.

"I can be patient," I said softly. "But I want to be honest, with all of us."

Bernard leaned over to kiss my shoulder. "Then just ask her, love. We'll take it from there."

Anton grinned. "And if she says yes... I'll try to behave."

I laughed, warm and full, as I melted back into the pillows between them.

The message

It was two days later. Late morning. The house was still and sunlit, Bernard out for a meeting, Anton at the gym. I sat at the kitchen island in a loose tee and nothing else, legs curled on the stool, coffee cooling beside my phone. I'd been staring at the screen far too long.

I'd started the message to Kate three times already.

First attempt:

Hey you. I've been thinking about the other night. About the kiss... and you. I was wondering what you're hoping for. Whether you'd want more, with me, or with us?

Delete.

Too direct. Too much too soon.

Second attempt:

Had such a lovely time the other night. That kiss is still playing on my mind. Can we talk?

No. Too vague. It sounded like I'd had a nervous breakdown and needed a therapist.

Third attempt:

Hey beautiful. I haven't stopped thinking about how soft your lips were. I want to see you again -- but I also want to be honest. Things with me, Bernard, and Anton... they're open. Loving. Playful. And I'd love to know what you're curious about. Even if it's just me. No pressure. Just honesty.

I read it back. Slowly.

I left it. Got up. Walked to the window. Then came back.

It was the right balance -- warm, honest, playful without being pushy. I wanted her to know it wasn't just about sex... but that the door was open if she wanted it.

I pressed send.

Then I stared at it. A few seconds of breathless stillness. The message had gone.

Now, I waited.

~~~

I didn't leave the kitchen right away. I wandered through the house, tidying things that didn't need tidying, half-distracted by every passing minute. I even poured myself another coffee I barely touched.

The sunlight was moving slowly across the tiles. The sea was calm beyond the garden, and yet my stomach was full of fluttering nerves.

I checked my phone once. Twice. A third time. Still nothing.

I walked barefoot into the bedroom and sat at the edge of the bed, chewing at a thumbnail. I knew she'd seen the message. I knew she was the sort to read and think first. But still, silence had a way of breeding uncertainty.

Was I too bold? Too honest? Did I ruin something soft by trying to name it?

It had been nearly an hour when the ping came. My heart jumped as I reached for the phone.

Kate:

God, I've read your message about six times. I don't know what I'm feeling exactly, but I do know I haven't stopped thinking about you either. That kiss... I think about it in the bath. In bed. During Zoom meetings I should be paying attention to. I'm curious. Nervous. But I want to talk more. Just us, maybe? One-on-one, again.

I exhaled. A slow, long breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

Her words were thoughtful. Open. And full of possibility.

I smiled just as I heard the front door open, Bernard's voice, then Anton's behind it, laughing about something. I tucked my phone against my chest for a moment, letting the moment linger. Then I stood, smoothed my tee down over my thighs, and walked out to meet them, flushed, but glowing.

~~~

They were barely through the door before Bernard narrowed his eyes at me.

"What's that look?" he said, setting down his bag and coming closer. "You're flushed."

Anton followed with a grin, peeling off his hoodie. "Yeah, you've got that guilty glow. What've you been up to, Tracy?"

I tried to brush it off, ducking into the kitchen. "Just been pottering around. Sun was nice earlier..."

"You've been checking your phone like a teenager," Bernard said, catching my hand as I reached for a glass. "C'mon. Spill."

I hesitated for a second too long.

"It's Kate," I said finally, heart fluttering again. "She replied."

Their eyes lit up, Bernard's amusement more knowing, Anton's curiosity sharper.

"And...?" Bernard prompted, gently turning me toward him.

"She's been thinking about the kiss. A lot. She's curious. Nervous. But she wants to talk, just me and her. She said she thinks about it... in the bath... in bed..."

Anton let out a low whistle. Bernard's grip on my waist tightened slightly.

"Well," Bernard murmured, brushing his lips against my forehead, "you've certainly stirred something."

That evening, after dinner, once the quiet of the house settled around us and the boys were upstairs showering, I curled up in the nook of the window with my phone. I must've typed and deleted a dozen replies. I wanted it to feel right. Patient. But also open.

Finally, I settled on it.

Tracy:

Kate -- thank you for replying. I can't stop thinking about that kiss either. I want to talk more too, and only when you're ready. So let's meet, just us. Where and when, you decide.

I stared at the message a long moment. Then I hit send.

The sound of it whooshing off made my breath catch.

But this time, there was no anxiety. Just a quiet buzz of anticipation.

~~~

The late morning sun had already warmed the coastline, casting a golden shimmer over the sea. From our bedroom window, I could just make out the familiar outline of the cliffside café where Kate and I had agreed to meet. It was perched above the shore, rustic and wind-kissed, with a view that always made my heart exhale.

I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair into loose waves. I didn't want to overthink it, but I still wanted to feel confident, quietly magnetic. I chose a soft cream halter-neck top that left my shoulders bare and tucked it into a pair of pale linen trousers that swayed when I moved. Casual, beachy, and just a little flirtatious.

Before I left, I checked in with Bernard and Anton. They were both still lounging around after their morning run. I leaned over the back of the sofa and smiled, "Would it be okay if I showed Kate a photo... or a video? If it comes up?"

Bernard smirked, glancing toward Anton, who gave a lazy stretch and a knowing nod.

"If she asks," Bernard said, "and if it feels right--yes. But let her ask. Let her want it."

I felt my heart quicken as I picked up my bag. The sea breeze met me as I stepped outside. I didn't know what this morning would bring, but I knew I was walking into it open and a little hungry for the unknown.

Cliffside Cafe

I arrived a little early, on purpose. The walk had helped settle the butterflies, but there was still a hum beneath my skin I couldn't quite shake -- a mix of curiosity and quiet anticipation.

The café was exactly as I remembered it: weathered wood, sunlight spilling across scattered tables, and that view -- the ocean stretching far and wide, glittering under the morning light like it was showing off. I scanned the space and chose a table near the edge of the terrace, shielded by tall grasses but with an uninterrupted view of the water.

I took the seat facing the path from the car park, legs crossed beneath the table, my sunglasses on, a gentle breeze lifting the ends of my hair. The waitress brought over a pot of mint tea without me having to ask, a local habit now, and I poured myself a cup, trying not to check my phone again.

My mind drifted to the messages, to the soft edge of possibility that Kate's words had left hanging in the air. She'd been warm. Open. But what would her body say when we were face to face again?

I adjusted the strap of my halter top, letting a little more skin catch the sun, and sipped my tea slowly as I waited, alert to every footstep, every glimpse of brunette hair turning the corner.

I saw her before I heard her, that unmistakable sway of her hips, the way her curves filled the soft fabric of her linen trousers. Kate looked effortlessly stunning, her glossy brunette hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders, catching the sun in all the right places. She wore a crisp white blouse, knotted casually at the waist to show just a sliver of toned, tanned stomach. A delicate gold chain shimmered at her ankle above simple leather sandals.

She spotted me and smiled, that knowing, half-curious smile before making her way over to the table I'd chosen. My heart gave a small, unexpected flutter.

"Hey you," she murmured as she leaned in to kiss my cheek, her voice soft and warm. She slid gracefully into the chair opposite mine, pulling off her oversized sunglasses. Her eyes found mine, bright and searching.

"This place is gorgeous," she said, glancing out at the sea, then back to me with a grin. "And so are you, of course."

There was a gentle buzz between us, not quite tension, but something close. Something charged. I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips as I reached for my cup of tea.

Kate looked around briefly, then back to me, tilting her head. "So..." she said, eyes glittering with curiosity, "what's in this tea? Because I think I need something stronger if we're really going to talk."

I laughed, but inside, I was already bracing myself. This conversation had been waiting to happen.

Kate wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and leaned in, her tone casual but her eyes sharp with curiosity. "Okay, I've been dying to ask... how did this all start? You and Bernard... and Anton?"

I smiled, a little nervous flutter low in my belly, but I'd come here ready to be honest. "It actually started with Bernard," I said softly.

Kate raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yep," I said, nodding. "He told me about a fantasy he'd had for a while. Me, with someone younger. Someone who wanted me, but was also comfortable with the two of us being fully involved. It wasn't about cheating or secrets, it was about sharing."

Kate blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Wow."

"It turned us on just talking about it," I continued. "Eventually we downloaded this app together, just to look, to see what was out there. It felt like a bit of naughty fun, really. But then we matched with Anton."

At the sound of his name, I saw her reaction, a little flicker in her eyes, a quiet acknowledgment.

"He was... different. Not just sexy, though obviously that too, but smart, confident, and interested in the dynamic. He didn't want to replace anyone. He wanted in."

Kate leaned in slightly, her voice low. "So how did it begin? Like... actually begin?"

I gave her a slow smile. "The first thing we did? We let him watch."

Kate's brows shot up. "Watch?"

I nodded. "We set up a stream, a private, secure one. Bernard and I... we had sex in our guest room while Anton watched remotely. He could see everything, me knowing he was watching made everything more intense. I don't think I've ever been so turned on."

Kate exhaled, her knuckles white around her mug. "God, Tracy."

"It was the spark. After that, things just... unfolded. A couple of meetups, some playful teasing. And then... well, things got serious. And now he's living with us."

Kate stared at me for a long moment, clearly trying to process everything.

Kate sat back slightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. I could see the flickers of thoughts running through her mind, how she was trying to piece things together, curiosity dancing behind her eyes, not judgment.

"So..." she said slowly, "you're telling me this started as Bernard's fantasy, and now Anton actually lives with you? Like properly, in the house?"

I smiled and nodded. "It happened gradually, but yeah. He's one of us now. We've made space for him, in our lives, our routines. And it works, somehow."

Kate gave a soft, almost incredulous laugh. "You've always been the confident one, Tracy, but this is next level. I don't even know how I'd handle just talking about something like that with a partner, let alone living it."

"It's not always simple," I admitted. "But there's trust. And a lot of openness. We talk constantly, check in. Bernard and I still have our foundation, that hasn't changed. If anything, it's stronger."

Kate nodded thoughtfully, then fell quiet for a moment, as if weighing her next words. Then she looked me straight in the eye.

"Okay. I have to ask..." She leaned forward slightly, her voice low but firm. "When it's all happening, when it's the three of you... how does it work? Like, who's in charge? Do you... do you get a say? Or are you more... taken?"

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, but it wasn't embarrassment, it was the spark of memory, of desire. I took a sip of my drink and set it down slowly.

"It depends on the moment," I said, voice steady. "But more often than not... I surrender. Bernard and Anton have very different energies, but they're both dominant. And I like being the one who gives in. I'm still me, still strong, still confident, but in the bedroom?" I smiled. "I love being theirs."

Kate swallowed, her gaze fixed on me. "Both of them. At once?"

I gave a quiet, wicked laugh. "Sometimes. And those are the nights I can barely walk the next day."

Kate's breath hitched ever so slightly, her teeth catching her bottom lip. I didn't press further, I didn't have to.

Kate shifted in her seat again, subtly this time, but I caught it. Her crossed legs tightening, her eyes lingering just a little too long on my lips as I spoke. That glossy curiosity had turned warmer now, deeper. Not just intrigued... aroused.

She hesitated, then leaned forward a touch, lowering her voice again.

"And when you... submit to them both," she said carefully, like the words themselves might scorch her lips, "what's it like? I mean, really like?"

I smiled softly, not teasing, just honest. "It's overwhelming. In the best possible way. There are moments when I can't tell where one ends and the other begins, just heat and hands and cock and mouths. I get completely lost in them, in the way they use me, the way they know me. It's not just physical, it's emotional, mental. And the orgasms?" I gave a breathy little laugh. "Like being cracked open. Like there's nothing else in the world but that moment. I can come again and again with them. Sometimes just from being filled... used..."

Kate bit her lip again, her thighs now pressed tightly together. Her cheeks had flushed a little, and I could see her mind racing, playing out scenes she could hardly believe she was imagining.

Then she took a breath, slower this time, and glanced around as if to make sure we were still alone in our little bubble.

"I probably shouldn't ask this," she said, voice low and cautious, "but... hypothetically..."

I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. "Mmm?"

"If... say... there was a fourth person involved -- a woman," she clarified, fingers curling around her mug again, "what would... be expected of her? In that kind of dynamic?"

There it was. Not just curiosity anymore. The door creaked open.

I smiled, gentle and unhurried. "That depends entirely on her. We don't force anything. It would have to come from a place of trust, consent, pleasure. She'd never be made to do something she wasn't comfortable with. But... if she wanted to be part of it, even just to explore, to see what it's like..."

I leaned in slightly, eyes locked on hers.

"She'd be welcomed. Guided. Cherished."

Kate looked down at her hands, then up again, eyes wide, breath a little shallow.

As we stood up from the table, the wind tugging gently at the hem of my halter top, Kate lingered for a moment. Her eyes held mine, thoughtful and just a little wide still, as if she couldn't quite believe the things we'd discussed.

"Thanks," she said softly, her voice low with layered meaning. "For being honest. And... patient."

I smiled and reached out, resting a hand briefly on her arm. "You can always ask. I mean that."

We shared a warm, close hug, longer than it might've been before, her hand brushing my waist as we pulled apart. Her breath lingered near my ear for a beat longer than necessary.

"I'll be in touch," she said. Then with a small, wry smile: "Hypothetically."

~~~

Later that afternoon, I was back home, barefoot, a glass of wine in my hand, the sea breeze wafting in through the open doors. Bernard was at the stove in one of his rare, indulgent moods, putting together something rich and comforting. The golden light of late afternoon cast soft shadows across the floor.

I was just curling up on the sofa when my phone buzzed.

Kate:

Okay... so I've been thinking all afternoon. You said Anton watched once, right? Do you still have anything from that? A clip? A photo? I don't know what I'm asking exactly, but... I can't stop thinking about it.

I stared at the message for a second, heart skipping in that delicious little way. I hadn't expected her to follow up so quickly. I felt the hum of adrenaline under my skin.

I looked up at Bernard across the room. He caught the expression on my face instantly.

"Kate?" he asked.

I nodded, biting my lip, and turned the phone around so he could read it.

"Well, well..." he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I take it you're thinking about showing her something?"

"I mentioned it before," I said softly, heart beating a little faster. "But I wanted to ask you first. I wouldn't show her anything unless you're okay with it."

Bernard came over and knelt by the sofa, his fingers brushing my knee. "Which one would you send her?"

I gave a slow smile. "Maybe the one of me on my knees between you both. Or the clip from that night with the blindfold..."

Bernard's eyes sparkled with mischief at my question, his hand lazily drying a glass from the dishwasher as if he hadn't just lit a fire in my chest.

"The kneeling one is already perfect," he said thoughtfully, placing the glass on the counter. "But..." He turned to face me fully, his voice dipping lower. "If you're in the mood to make something fresh..."

Something shifted inside me, that familiar flutter, a delicious ache that pooled low in my belly. I didn't answer. I just stepped slowly across the kitchen tiles toward him, the hem of my dress swaying around my thighs. His eyes tracked my every move, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Then I sank to my knees.

Right there, on the cool kitchen floor.

Bernard exhaled softly, almost reverently. He brushed his fingers through my hair, then cradled the back of my head, his thumb stroking my cheek.

"I guess that's a yes," he murmured.

I tilted my head up to him, lips parting, my gaze steady. "Let's give her something to think about," I whispered.

He smiled, slow and wicked now. "Hold that pose," he said, stepping just enough to the side to grab his phone. "Let's make something beautiful."

Bernard set the phone carefully on the countertop, angled just right -- capturing me on my knees before him, the soft overhead light casting a warm glow over the kitchen. My hair was slightly tousled, lips parted in anticipation, my hands resting on my thighs. I looked up at him, wide-eyed and waiting, knowing exactly what this would look like through the lens.

He stepped closer, slowly unzipping himself, letting the moment stretch and simmer.

"This is what she's curious about, isn't it?" he said, one hand in my hair, guiding me closer. "What it looks like when you give yourself up. So open. So eager."

I hummed in response, lips brushing his length as I kissed and licked him with practiced affection. It wasn't just about the performance -- it never was with us. There was history in every movement, every glance. Trust. Desire. Power shared and surrendered in perfect balance.

I took him into my mouth fully, letting him slide deep, my throat welcoming him. He groaned, head tipping back, one hand braced on the counter. The camera caught it all -- the way I moved, the tears welling in my eyes, the way he whispered praise between ragged breaths.

"Fuck, Tracy... you're so good at this..."

I pulled back, licking him from base to tip, then looked up again -- a string of saliva connecting us. I didn't speak, but I knew what I wanted.

He did too.

"Let her see this," he murmured as his breathing picked up. "Let her see how beautiful you are like this."

With one last growl of pleasure, Bernard gripped himself and came -- hot, thick spurts across my face, over my cheeks, lips, even a little in my hair. I closed my eyes, let it land, let it stay.

I knelt there, coated in him, my breathing steady, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up into the camera.

"Do you think she'll like that one better?" I asked, my voice low, teasing.

Bernard chuckled behind the phone. "I think she'll be dying for more."

~~~

The message sent, it was viewed, then nothing. Three dots, nothing. Three dots nothing finally my phone pinged.

"You looked... incredible. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't expect to feel like I wanted to be you in that moment. Or maybe... next to you. Is that crazy?"

~~~

Of course -- here's the revised version from Tracy's point of view:

I was still wiping the last traces of Bernard's cum from my skin, cheeks flushed, mouth tingling, when I sent the video to Kate. No caption. No explanation. Just the clip. Letting the moment speak for itself.

Then I waited.

I stayed in the kitchen, perched against the counter, my robe loose and damp against my skin. Bernard walked past and kissed the top of my head, utterly unbothered, almost amused at my anticipation. I rolled my eyes but couldn't deny the tingle of nerves that bubbled low in my belly. Would she even open it? Would she be offended? Turned on?

The reply came sooner than I expected.

KATE:

That was... a lot. And so much more than I expected. You looked incredible. He adores you. You both do.

I exhaled. Slowly. Smiling to myself, a mix of pride and heat blooming through me. I looked incredible. She saw it. She saw us.

Another message popped up seconds later.

KATE:

I need to think. But... can I watch it again?

God, yes.

My fingers hovered over my phone. I didn't reply yet. Just watched her words settle in. She wanted to watch it again. That curiosity was no longer subtle. I knew that feeling. The crack in the door.

And then the third message came, a bit longer.

KATE:

I can't stop thinking about how natural you looked. How much you loved it. How much he did.

I'm not sure where this is going... but I think I want to know more.

That one stopped me. My pulse skipped. She wasn't just aroused -- she was drawn in. And maybe she didn't know where this path might lead, but I could see it. I could feel it. My fingers curled tightly around my phone.

I looked over at Bernard, now lounging in the living room, thumbing through a book like nothing had changed. And yet everything had.

"She's watching," I murmured aloud.

He glanced up, a glint in his eyes. "Good."

~~~

I didn't message her back straight away. I let her words settle in my mind for the rest of the evening, thinking about the ripple she was clearly feeling from what I'd shared. The slow shift from shock, to intrigue, to arousal. I remembered what that felt like. That little flame of curiosity that starts as a flicker and then begins to take over everything.

By morning, I knew what I wanted to suggest.

Not more videos. Not another intense conversation. Something lighter. Intimate in a different way. No pressure, no big declarations. Just... closeness.

So I texted her.

ME:

So this might sound like a total change of pace... but how do you fancy a day out together? Just you and me. Shopping. Clothes. Maybe lingerie. Just fun.

We can try things on, get lunch, make a proper girly afternoon of it.

And if we happen to pick out something... a little more daring, well. Who's judging?

She replied within ten minutes.

KATE:

That actually sounds perfect.

God, I haven't had a proper girls' day in ages. And with you? Yes please.

Lingerie? You'll get me into trouble.

ME:

Trouble's more fun with company.

Pick you up at 11?

~~~

We met at hers, both dressed for a casual day, floaty maxi dresses, sandals, sunglasses tucked into our hair. No makeup too heavy, just enough to make us feel polished. She looked stunning. Confident. But with something slightly vulnerable around the eyes. Curious still.

The shops were busy enough to feel anonymous. We laughed over coffee first, then wandered into the kind of boutique I wouldn't normally take someone on a first shopping trip. Silks, satins, delicate lace. The kinds of things that made you feel wanted just slipping them off the hanger.

"Oh my God," she said, holding up a sheer black bralette, "you actually wear these things?"

I grinned. "Only when I want to make someone very distracted."

We each took a few pieces into the changing rooms. At first it was playful, teasing, funny. But then something shifted. I stepped out in a blush pink set, light as air, lace barely concealing anything, and caught her watching me in the mirror. Not just admiring. Lingering.

"Jesus," she breathed, eyes scanning from my cleavage to my hips. "No wonder he can't keep his hands off you."

I felt my pulse skip again. I reached for another hanger. "Your turn."

Her blush deepened. But she didn't say no.

She stepped out of her changing room in a pale lilac lace set, the bra cut just low enough to offer a hint of cleavage without being too overt. The high-cut panties sat snugly on her hips, and she looked, honestly, gorgeous. Confident. A little surprised at herself.

"Damn, Kate," I said, letting the word stretch with meaning as I looked her over. "If this is you out of your comfort zone, I'm not sure the world's ready for when you lean all the way in."

She laughed, tugging at the hem of the bra self-consciously but clearly pleased. "I wouldn't wear this for anyone. Except maybe..." she cut herself off, then grinned.

"Maybe?" I teased.

"Maybe someone who already knows how to handle trouble."

That got a laugh from both of us. Then, impulsively, I reached into my bag and held up my phone.

"Selfie?" I asked, turning slightly to position us both in the full-length mirror, both of us in lingerie, both flushed and glowing from the buzz of the moment.

Kate blinked. "You're serious?"

I gave her a playful nudge with my hip. "Why not? Just for us. Unless... you don't mind if I share it in our group chat? With the boys."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You've got a group chat?"

"Oh, honey," I purred, still smiling as I snapped the picture. "We do everything as a group."

She laughed, blushed, then, after a beat, nodded. "Okay... just don't let them forget who their favourite is."

I winked. "Trust me, they won't."

I opened the chat: "The House Rules"

[Photo sent: Me and Kate, side by side in front of the mirror, playful smiles and matching confidence.]

Caption: Shopping went well. Thought you boys would appreciate a little preview.

The replies came quickly.

Bernard:

Well now, that made my afternoon.

You both look stunning, Trace. And Kate--if you see this, you wear that beautifully.

I smiled. Classic Bernard. Warm. Measured. Appreciative without being pushy.

Anton:

Wow. You weren't kidding, she's gorgeous.

And you both look like you're having fun--love that.

Please tell her I said hi, politely of course.

I felt a flutter in my stomach. Anton's charm was always so effortless. He knew exactly how to sound inviting without stepping over a line.

Bernard again:

Hope it's been a good day for you two.

And if she's ever curious or has questions... she's in very good hands.

Anton:

Very open to chatting, no pressure. Just say the word.

Also--red definitely suits you both.

Bernard:

Thanks for sharing, sweetheart. Can't wait to hear all about it tonight.

I read the messages twice before locking my phone. My cheeks were warm--maybe from the wine, maybe from the possibility I hadn't dared to fully name yet.

Kate's eyes stayed fixed on my phone screen, her cheeks a little flushed as she read the boys' responses. We were still in our matching lingerie, tucked into the changing room together, soft light reflecting off the mirrors, our laughter still hanging in the air.

I studied her face as she scrolled. First Bernard's message--warm and measured--then Anton's: cheekier, but careful.

"They're..." she began, then stopped, swallowing slightly. "They're actually really sweet. I didn't expect that."

I smiled, leaning back against the bench, legs still slightly tangled in my trousers. "They're respectful. But also... very good at turning respectful into something else when the time's right."

Kate looked up at me, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "They're both into this? Into you... like this?"

"All three of us are," I said softly. "But they're also into the idea of you. If you're into it too."

She didn't respond right away. Her eyes flicked back to the screen, then to the mirror, where our reflections sat so close together. She looked at the photo again--our matching lingerie, our hips brushing--and I caught the way her chest rose a little higher on her next breath.

"It's a lot," she admitted, finally.

"I know," I said, nudging her thigh gently with mine. "But nothing has to happen. We're just here, playing dress-up and having fun. Unless... you want it to be more."

She looked at me again, and her voice was quiet, a little husky. "It's hard not to want more."

I grinned, heat curling low in my belly. "Then we'll take it slow. Like this. Just us, for now."

Her smile grew, and as we stood to change, she lingered just a moment too long behind me--fingers brushing the clasp of my bra with a feather-light touch.

~~~

The rest of the day unraveled in a soft, almost slow-motion haze. After the buzz of the changing rooms, the shared glances and stolen touches, Kate invited me back to hers for a glass of wine. "No rush, just come relax with me a bit," she'd said, casual, but something shimmered beneath her words.

Once we were inside her place, I sent Bernard a quick message, my thumb hesitating only briefly over the screen:

Me: "If anything happens between me and Kate... is that okay with you?"

He replied right away.

Bernard: "Yes. Just tell me everything after."

Just like that, the invisible tension inside me eased, but the nervous butterflies stayed. I'd never really been with a woman before. Not in a real, intimate way. It was new ground, exciting and unfamiliar. I wasn't sure what would happen, only that I trusted my instincts and Bernard's encouragement grounded me.

We poured wine and curled into her plush sofa. We talked about clothes, exes, the weirdness of dating again and I caught her watching me, eyes lingering on my collarbone, my lips. Finally, as the silence softened around us, she asked it.

"Tracy... would you mind putting the pink set on for me again? I can't get the image of you in it out of my head."

I blinked, surprised, but warmed all over by her openness. "Really?"

She nodded, her smile equal parts teasing and sincere. "I didn't get to really look earlier. Just glimpses. I want to see you... properly."

My stomach fluttered. I slipped away to the en suite, unfastening my jeans, easing off my top and underwear, then slowly stepping into the pink mesh. My reflection in the mirror caught me, my skin flushed, hair a little mussed, the set hugging all the right places. I took a breath and opened the door.

Kate was sitting on the edge of her bed, one leg crossed over the other, glass of wine cradled loosely in her hand. When she saw me, her eyes widened slightly, and she didn't even try to hide the way she looked at me, really looked.

"God, Tracy..." she whispered. "You're beautiful."

I walked toward her, bare feet on soft carpet, the air brushing my exposed skin, and stood in front of her, heart pounding.

She reached up, her fingertips trailing over my thigh, then up to my hip. Her voice was lower now. "Can I kiss you?"

I nodded.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like we were both searching. But when her hand slid behind my back and she pulled me down into her lap, the hesitation melted away. Her lips parted, and I let myself go with it, my nerves, my curiosity, everything I'd been holding back.

"You've done this before?" I whispered, breathless between kisses.

She nodded, barely. "A long time ago. Before I got married. But it still feels just as electric."

I smiled against her mouth. "You're my first. I don't really know what I'm doing."

She smiled back and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Then just feel it. I've got you."

And I believed her.

Kate's lips met mine again, slower this time, but deeper--no more hesitance, only hunger blooming beneath the surface. Her hands cupped my face as if I were something precious, and I let myself melt into her. The feeling of her mouth, so soft yet commanding, was unlike anything I'd ever known.

Her fingers trailed down my neck, brushing the tops of my breasts through the thin pink mesh. I gasped into the kiss, and she responded by pulling me closer, her body pressed fully against mine now, skin to skin in the spaces where fabric no longer separated us.

"Still nervous?" she whispered, lips brushing mine.

"A little," I breathed, "but I don't want to stop."

"You won't have to."

She lowered me gently onto the bed, crawling over me with reverence. Her mouth moved to my neck, placing warm, open kisses there, then further--down across my collarbone, along the slope of my chest. My breath caught as her fingers slid under the hem of the mesh and found bare skin, teasing, exploring.

Every touch was deliberate, slow, as if she wanted to memorize me. And I let her. My hands tangled in her hair as her lips found my nipple through the lace, her tongue circling with practiced grace. My hips shifted against her thigh, seeking pressure, aching for more.

"God," I moaned softly, "Kate..."

She looked up at me with a smile--playful, but focused. "I've got you."

Her hands moved lower, gliding down my stomach, parting my thighs gently. She touched me like she already knew me--like she'd imagined this before, maybe more than once. And when her fingers slid between my legs, I gasped--arching, pulsing with need.

She took her time. Teasing, stroking, her mouth never far from my skin, her breath warm against my inner thigh. And when she finally dipped her head, pressing her tongue to me, I let out a sharp, trembling sound, half disbelief, half surrender.

The world narrowed to sensation. To her mouth, her fingers, the sound of her breath. It built inside me like a wave curling tighter and tighter, and when it broke, it was sudden and complete--leaving me gasping, clutching at the sheets, at her.

But she didn't stop.

She kissed her way back up my body, cradling my face again. And when our mouths met once more, I tasted myself on her tongue, and I didn't care. I wanted everything.

Now I needed to give it back.

Kate lay beside me, her breathing shallow, lips slightly parted, a faint flush blooming across her chest. Her eyes flicked open and met mine, hazy, full of warmth, and something deeper... something raw. I reached for her, brushing hair back from her cheek, then leaned in to kiss her again, not soft this time, but hungry. Possessive.

"I want to taste you," I whispered against her lips.

She nodded, a tremble passing through her body at my words alone. "Then do it," she murmured.

I shifted, kissing my way down her neck, taking time at each freckle, each hollow. Her blouse was long discarded, and I ran my fingers over her stomach, tracing lazy circles as I eased the waistband of her trousers and underwear down in one smooth motion. She lifted her hips for me, offering herself completely.

She was warm, soft, and already glistening with arousal. My breath hitched as I knelt between her thighs, letting my hands slide up along her legs, gently parting them. The sight of her spread open for me, trusting me, made something deep and aching bloom inside my chest.

I leaned in slowly, breathing her in, then pressed my lips to her cunt. Her body jolted slightly in surprise, but she didn't pull away, if anything, she pressed closer.

I began with slow, languid strokes of my tongue, learning her, listening to every gasp, every subtle shift. She tasted like salt and warmth and something impossibly intimate. I could feel her thighs tense around me, her fingers gripping the bedsheets.

"Oh... Tracy," she moaned, and it lit something in me.

I circled her with my tongue, then flicked lightly, faster, until her hips began to rise to meet me. My fingers joined in, exploring gently, carefully, curling to find the rhythm that made her whimper and tilt her head back, her body fully open beneath me.

"You're perfect," I whispered between kisses, and she shuddered.

She came suddenly, quietly at first, then with a low cry, her whole body trembling as she pressed her thighs to my shoulders and rode the wave. I didn't stop. I held her through it, tasting her, kissing her inner thighs as her breath slowly steadied.

When I finally crawled back up beside her, her eyes were glassy, a lazy smile on her lips.

"I wasn't expecting that," she said breathlessly. "You're dangerous."

I laughed softly and pulled the sheet up around us, wrapping my arm around her waist. "You brought it out of me."

We lay together in the quiet, legs tangled, hearts still beating faster than normal. For now, there was no need for words.

Just the warmth of skin and breath... and the promise of whatever came next.

We lay tangled in her sheets, the late afternoon light slanting through the window, casting soft gold over our skin. Kate's head rested on my shoulder, her fingers idly tracing circles on my stomach, her breath slow and content. My body still buzzed, not just from the pleasure, but from the connection -- the way she touched me like she'd been waiting to for years.

"You really hadn't done that before?" she murmured, voice low and warm.

"Not even close," I smiled, brushing my fingertips through her hair. "But I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it."

She looked up at me, her lips curving. "Well... you're a natural."

I laughed softly, kissing her forehead. "You made it easy."

We lay there a while longer, tangled in warmth and something more intimate than I'd expected. No pressure. Just the kind of quiet closeness that said this wasn't just curiosity. There was something deeper taking shape, gentle, electric.

I sighed eventually, glancing toward the clock. "I should head back. The boys are probably wondering if I fell into a changing room somewhere."

Kate smiled, fingers still lightly resting on my thigh. "They'll know exactly what happened the moment they see your face."

That made me grin. "Speaking of..." I reached for my phone on the nightstand. "Feel like making them jealous?"

She raised a brow. "You want to send them a picture?"

"Just a cheeky little one," I said. "Something fun."

I sat up slightly, the sheet draped loosely around me, pink mesh still visible under the curve of my dress. Kate stayed where she was, propped on one elbow behind me, tousled and glowing. We leaned in close, cheek to cheek, her smile lazy and playful.

Caption: Shopping was productive. Heading home... eventually.

I sent it off with a flutter in my stomach and turned to kiss her once more, slow, sweet, lingering.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She kissed me back, her hand sliding up my back. "Anytime."

~~~

The night air was warm, the breeze from the sea soft against my skin as I stepped out onto the terrace. The sky was streaked with violet and silver, the distant sound of waves a steady rhythm. Bernard was already there, lounging shirtless in one of the cushioned deck chairs, a drink in hand, looking as relaxed as ever but his eyes lit up when he saw me.

Still in the pink mesh, barefoot and glowing from the inside out, I walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps. I didn't need to speak, he could read everything in my body language. I was still humming with energy, and I wanted to share it with him.

He set his drink aside as I sank to my knees between his legs, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. "Tell me about her," he murmured, brushing my hair behind my ear.

"She kissed me like she meant it," I said, my fingers working him free. "Touched me slowly... made me feel like I was being worshipped."

I took him in my hand, then in my mouth, slowly, sensually, as I looked up at him through heavy lashes. He groaned, his hand tightening in my hair.

"She asked if I'd ever been with a woman," I said softly between strokes, "and when I told her no, she said she'd show me."

Bernard watched me, his breathing deepening. I kissed my way up his body and straddled him in one slow, fluid motion. His hands gripped my hips as I lowered myself onto him, inch by inch, savoring every second.

That's when I heard the terrace door slide open.

Anton stepped outside, shirtless, barefoot, holding a small glass bottle. "Figured you'd be out here," he said, voice low, amused. "Thought you might want this."

He held up the body oil, something we'd used before, something that always meant things were about to get messier.

Bernard didn't say a word, just leaned back into the lounger, holding me in place while I moved over him, slowly, deliberately. Anton came behind me, setting the bottle on the small side table, then kneeling between my legs, his hands already slick.

As I rode Bernard, I felt Anton's hands glide up my back, then down again, over the curve of my hips, between my thighs. He kissed the back of my shoulder as I tipped my head forward, bracing myself on Bernard's chest.

"Tell us what happened," Bernard said, his voice deeper now, his hands steadying me.

I gasped as I felt Anton press against me from behind, slowly, patiently. The oil made everything smooth, deliberate. I was surrounded, filled, claimed in a way that made me shake with every breath.

"She was so soft," I whispered, my voice shaking. "She undressed me slowly. Her mouth... her fingers... she made me come with just her tongue."

Anton pushed deeper, and I cried out, the stretch overwhelming, my body trembling as I took them both in.

"And then I gave it back to her," I moaned. "I made her fall apart for me."

They groaned almost in unison, hands holding me, grounding me, their bodies locked against mine. And in that moment the ocean breeze on my skin, the stars above, and the two men who knew me better than anyone, I felt worshipped too.

Their bodies moved with mine, slow and deep, every motion deliberate, Bernard thick and steady beneath me, Anton strong and insistent behind. I was caught between them, stretched full, my breath coming in ragged gasps as they filled me, surrounded me, consumed me.

Every inch of my skin was alive, slick with sweat and oil, the breeze cool against heated flesh. Bernard's hands gripped my hips, guiding my rhythm, while Anton's mouth brushed along the curve of my shoulder, his breath hot, teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp.

"You should've seen her," I whispered through panting breath, eyes locked with Bernard's. "How she moaned for me. How she begged."

Bernard groaned, thrusting up into me. "And now you're begging for us."

I was, shamelessly, desperately. The sensation of being filled so completely, the stretch and heat and pressure building fast, too fast. My head fell back against Anton's shoulder as he rocked into me from behind, slow at first, then harder, matching Bernard's rhythm until I couldn't tell who was moving anymore, only that I was the one being moved.

"I can't..." I gasped, voice cracking as the pressure inside me shattered.

The orgasm tore through me, sudden and powerful, stealing the air from my lungs. My muscles clenched tight around them both, my cry echoing out into the open night as I shook between them. Bernard held me steady while Anton pressed deeper, groaning as he chased his own release.

"God, Tracy..." Bernard hissed, his hips bucking up into mine once, twice, then he was cumming in me, hot and thick, his grip firm and possessive.

Anton followed seconds later, his moan low and rough against my ear as he buried himself deep, warmth flooding me, their release mixing inside me, slick and overwhelming. I collapsed against Bernard's chest, trembling, legs too weak to hold myself up, both of them still wrapped around me, hands gentle now, soothing.

We stayed like that for a moment, tangled, breathless, utterly wrecked. I could feel them both inside me still, their warmth, their weight, the way they'd claimed me all over again.

Sticky. Sore. Completely undone.

And so, so loved.

The invite

It was a quiet Thursday evening, the kind we both savored. Bernard and I were curled up on the outdoor sofa, the soft rustle of waves below the terrace keeping time with the breeze. The sky was dipped in dusky gold, and everything felt still, content.

His hand was resting on my thigh, fingers idly tracing along the inside of my leg beneath the blanket. There was nothing urgent about it. Just that slow, grounding touch I'd come to love. I sipped from my wine and leaned into him, letting the hush stretch out between us.

Then he broke it, softly.

"Have you thought about inviting Kate here?"

I turned to glance at him. "You mean for dinner? Or... something else?"

His smile was subtle, but there was a flicker of heat in his eyes. "Just you and her, to start. Somewhere familiar. Comfortable. But I wouldn't mind being nearby."

"Nearby?" I asked, amused, but already tingling at the idea.

He turned to face me more fully, his voice low. "Only if she's alright with it. If things move in that direction. I'm not saying you should plan anything formal, just... open the door. Let her feel what it's like here. With you. With us."

I let that sink in, heart ticking a little faster. "So you'd watch?"

"Maybe," he said, his thumb still moving in lazy circles on my leg. "Or maybe I'd join. Gently. If she wanted it."

My skin flushed. I bit my lip and looked out at the horizon. "She's curious. I think she'd come. I think... part of her might even want more."

Bernard's voice dipped even lower. "Then invite her. Saturday night. Just keep it open. Let her feel safe. Desired."

I smiled. "You always make it sound so simple."

"That's because it is," he said, brushing a kiss against my temple. "When you want something, you invite it in."

~~~

Back in the bedroom, I sat cross-legged on the bed with my phone in my lap, the sea breeze lifting the sheer curtain beside me. Bernard had gone to pour us both another glass of wine, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of anticipation. My heart was racing in that delicious way, nerves, yes, but excitement too. The kind that came from stepping closer to something I wanted but hadn't quite dared to claim.

I opened my messages to Kate and started typing.

First attempt:

Hey you... I was wondering if you might want to come over Saturday night. Just us. A chance to relax, maybe revisit some of what we explored...

Too vague. Too hesitant. I deleted it.

Second attempt:

Kate, Bernard and I were talking, and we thought you might enjoy coming over for the evening. You and me to start. But he might be nearby. Only if you're okay with it.

I paused, staring at the words. I could already feel her overthinking that "he might be nearby." It sounded clinical.

Third attempt:

Would you like to come over Saturday night? Just you and me to begin with. Bernard may be around, but nothing happens unless it feels right. I'd love to show you more of what I've learned... if you're ready for that.

I read it twice. Three times. Then, before I could lose the nerve, I hit send.

The seconds afterward stretched long, the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every heartbeat. I tossed the phone aside like it might burn me and stood, pacing once by the window. Bernard returned with the wine and handed me my glass, raising an eyebrow as he watched me.

"You sent it?"

I nodded. "Now we wait."

I didn't have to wait long.

Kate:

I was hoping you'd ask.

Yes. I'd love to. I trust you. And if Bernard's nearby... I trust him too.

Saturday it is.

My whole body exhaled.

I looked up at Bernard, smiling, half thrilled, half dazed. "She said yes."

He took a sip of his wine, then leaned in, brushing his lips against mine.

"Good. Let's make her feel welcome."

Saturday night

Saturday crept up faster than I expected. From the outside, it was just another beautiful day on the coast, the sea calm, the air warm, the light golden as it slanted through the wide windows. But inside me, everything felt electric.

I'd been preparing since morning. Fresh sheets. Soft lighting. Candles placed with intention. The bedroom didn't scream seduction, but it breathed invitation, comfort with a pulse underneath. I wanted Kate to feel safe. Seen. Wanted.

And that meant one very difficult conversation first.

Anton was in the kitchen, shirtless, coffee mug in hand, watching the tide roll in from the window. He smiled when I padded in barefoot and wrapped my arms around him from behind.

"Big night?" he asked, setting his mug down and turning to face me.

I nodded, then exhaled. "That's actually what I came to talk to you about."

He raised a brow but stayed quiet, giving me space.

"I want her to feel fully comfortable," I said slowly. "This is a big step for her. She's curious, she's open... but she's also new to all of this. So for tonight, I think... I think it's best if it's just me and Bernard."

Anton didn't react right away. But when he did, it was calm, understanding.

"You think I'd spook her."

"Not you," I said quickly, cupping his cheek. "Just the idea of too much, too soon. I need her to trust the rhythm of this, not feel swept into something she's not ready for."

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over my wrist. "So this is the long game."

I smiled. "Exactly."

Anton leaned in, kissed my forehead, and grinned. "Then I'll go stay at Jack's tonight. But if she ever wants a third opinion... you know where to find me."

~~~

By mid-afternoon, I was pacing softly in front of the mirror, deciding between two outfits. The sheer black robe with the pink mesh underneath felt like too much, too soon. The silk slip, though, the blush one that just kissed the tops of my thighs and clung to my curves like breath, that felt right.

Subtle. Suggestive. But gentle.

I added perfume to my wrists, a touch behind my ears. My makeup was light, hair soft and loose. Bernard passed by the door, pausing just to look at me.

"She's not going to know what hit her," he murmured.

"I hope she doesn't want to run from it."

"She won't," he said, stepping close to brush a kiss behind my ear. "You're doing everything right."

I checked the time. Almost there.

The evening was beginning to stir.

~~~

I was in the living room when I heard the knock, one soft, then two, and my stomach fluttered. Not nerves, not exactly. Just that delicious thrill of stepping into the unknown with someone who might meet you there.

I opened the door and there she was.

Kate stood on the threshold in the kind of effortless outfit that made her look like she hadn't tried at all but of course, I knew she had. A soft, cream-coloured wrap dress cinched at the waist, hugging her curves just enough. The neckline dipped modestly, but gave a hint of cleavage when she moved. Her legs were bare, sandals delicate, and her hair was pulled back loosely, soft strands framing her face.

She looked beautiful. Not just sexy, though she was, but present. Glowing. Slightly flushed from the drive. Nervous, maybe. But willing.

"Hi," I said, smiling as I stepped aside. "You look..."

"Overdressed?" she teased, glancing at my silk slip.

"No," I said, stepping closer and brushing a kiss to her cheek. "You look perfect."

She walked in slowly, taking in the space, the gentle lighting, the subtle scent of sandalwood and something sweeter from the candles I'd lit. Bernard was nowhere in sight, though she glanced toward the hall instinctively.

"He's around," I said gently. "But not here unless you want him to be. Tonight is about you. About us."

Her smile softened, eyes meeting mine. "Good."

I took her hand and led her to the couch. We sat close, our knees touching. I poured us each a glass of wine, letting the quiet stretch out a little before I broke it.

"Are you okay?" I asked, resting my hand lightly on her thigh.

She looked at my hand. "I'm more than okay," she said. "I've been thinking about this since you asked. I didn't know if I'd be nervous when I got here... but right now? I just want to be closer to you."

I turned slightly toward her, letting my hand drift up along her waist as I leaned in. Our kiss was soft at first, tentative. But like before, it deepened quickly, naturally. Her hand slid over my shoulder, pulling me closer.

"You still taste like mischief," she murmured against my mouth.

"And you still smell like trouble," I whispered back.

She laughed, breath catching a little as I tugged gently on the tie at her waist.

"May I?"

Kate nodded slowly, her eyes bright. "Please."

The knot at her waist came free with a single, slow pull. Her dress loosened and fell open just enough to reveal the soft skin beneath, smooth, warm, and lightly freckled from the sun. My fingers grazed the fabric, easing it from her shoulders, baring the creamy lace of her bra and the generous curve of her breasts beneath.

She watched me, her breath already a little shallower, her body still but humming. There was something beautiful in that moment of stillness, a quiet surrender, like she'd been waiting for someone to touch her like this.

"You're stunning," I whispered, letting the dress slide from her arms, pooling around her on the sofa. My fingers moved over her skin, learning her, trailing along the line of her collarbone, over the swell of her chest.

Kate leaned back slightly, her eyes fluttering closed as my hands slid up to unfasten her bra. I took my time, not because I was unsure, but because I wanted to savour the moment she was bare for me.

The fabric slipped away, and there she was, full and soft and so exquisitely real. I cupped her gently, thumbs brushing over her nipples, and she let out a quiet, surprised moan.

"You're so responsive," I murmured, leaning in to kiss along the curve of one breast, then the other. "I love that."

Her hands found my hair as I kissed lower, trailing down her stomach as I eased her back against the cushions. She opened for me without hesitation, her thighs parting slightly as I knelt between them, kissing the inside of one knee, then higher.

She was already warm and slick when I touched her, her breath catching as I teased her gently through the lace. I looked up, watching her eyes darken, her lips parted.

"Do you want me to?"

Kate nodded, breathless. "Yes. Please."

I slid her panties down slowly, kissing the inside of her thighs as I went. And then I leaned in, letting my mouth find her, tasting, exploring. Her hips jerked slightly as I found her rhythm, her fingers tangled tighter in my hair. I moaned softly against her, loving how she moved, how she opened for me completely.

Her voice came in soft gasps, my name once, then again and I could feel her start to build. I slipped a hand up to her chest, cupping her breast, grounding her as I worked her closer and closer.

When her orgasm hit, it was sudden and sweet, her body arching, thighs trembling, a sharp cry muffled by her hand over her mouth. I stayed with her, slowing my movements, kissing gently until she eased back down.

Kate looked at me, dazed and glowing. She reached for me, pulled me up into her arms, and kissed me with something different than before, not curiosity, but hunger.

"I needed that," she whispered. "I didn't know how much until now."

I smiled against her mouth. "We're just getting started."

Kate was still curled into me on the sofa, her cheek resting just above my breast, her hand tracing lazy, feather-light circles across my stomach. The glow of the candles danced across the walls, the sea breeze slipping in through the open patio doors, cooling the heat still simmering on our skin.

She shifted after a moment, lifting herself onto one elbow to look at me, eyes still soft but darker now, with something deeper stirring behind them.

"My turn," she murmured.

I let out a breath, half a laugh. "You don't have to--"

"I want to," she said, silencing me with a kiss. Her hand slid down my side, deliberate and sure, and before I could think to stop her, she was already settling between my legs, pushing my thighs apart with a confidence that sent a pulse straight through me.

Her kisses started high, my hips, the inside of my thighs, and then her mouth found me, warm and eager, and I gasped out loud.

My head fell back into the cushions, hips twitching beneath her as she worked me open with her tongue, slow at first, then with growing pressure, purpose. I moaned, fingers threading into her hair, not guiding, just holding on.

She was good. Almost too good.

And then she paused. Just slightly. Her breath warm, her voice low.

"Invite Bernard in."

I blinked, lifting my head off the back of the sofa to look down at her.

She licked softly once, teasing. "I want to watch you take his cock. While I do this to you."

A rush of heat flooded through me, sharp and dizzying. It was no longer just curiosity for her. This was want.

I reached behind me, grabbing my phone off the end table with shaking fingers, and typed:

Me:

She wants to watch me suck you off. Come in. Slow.

As I set the phone down, I felt her tongue again, firmer now, more confident. My legs spread further, knees pulling up instinctively as she pulled me deeper into her mouth.

Then I heard it, the quiet creak of the floorboards, the subtle shift of air as Bernard stepped into the room.

I didn't look at him yet. I couldn't. My eyes were closed, my mouth parted in moans, and Kate was still there, working me higher with every flick of her tongue.

But I could feel him. His presence. His gaze. And the quiet pull of anticipation low in my belly.

I didn't open my eyes when I heard him enter, I didn't have to. I felt Bernard's presence the way I always did: steady, calm, quietly commanding. The soft tread of his bare feet on the floor, the subtle shift of energy in the room. Kate hadn't paused, if anything, her mouth became more eager, her tongue more insistent, as if his arrival had lit something in her too.

I let out a soft, helpless sound, and then his voice, warm and low, curled into my ear from beside the sofa.

"You look incredible like this," Bernard murmured. "Completely undone... and you've barely started."

I opened my eyes and turned my head toward him, breath ragged, lips already parted. He'd stripped off his shirt, loose lounge trousers slung low on his hips. His cock was already hard beneath the fabric, thick and heavy, unmistakably ready.

"Come here," I whispered, my voice trembling with want.

He stepped closer, and I reached for the waistband, freeing him with a practiced, eager motion. I looked up at him as I wrapped my hand around him, the way I always did with reverence and hunger. Bernard ran his fingers through my hair, cradling the back of my head, guiding but never forcing.

I took him into my mouth slowly, lips stretching around him, tongue teasing as I eased him deeper. Above me, Bernard exhaled, long and low.

"That's it," he murmured. "Show her how good you are."

Kate moaned softly at those words, the sound vibrating into me as she doubled her pace, her tongue now swirling in slow, deliberate circles that made my thighs shake.

It was overwhelming, the weight of Bernard in my mouth, the rhythm of Kate's tongue and fingers between my legs, the heat, the hands, the glances passed silently above my head. I felt completely possessed, completely seen.

Bernard rocked into my mouth with gentle thrusts, his hand in my hair tightening just slightly each time I took him deeper. My own moans were muffled around him, my body twitching beneath Kate's mouth as she pushed me higher, determined, steady.

My orgasm built hard and fast, pressure blooming inside me with a ferocity I hadn't expected. I clutched at Bernard's thigh with one hand, the other buried in the cushions behind me as Kate's mouth pushed me over the edge.

I came with a cry against Bernard's cock, my body shaking, breath caught in my throat. Bernard groaned above me, stilling for a moment, his voice taut.

"Fuck... Tracy..."

I pulled back slowly, breathless, my chest heaved. Kate sat up between my legs, lips glistening, eyes wide with delight and something deeper, pride.

Bernard stood in front of me, thick and hard in my hand, my lips wrapped around the head of his cock as I moved slowly, deliberately, letting Kate feel every pulse of pleasure that passed between us. Her mouth back between my thighs, her tongue still worked with slow confidence between my thighs, drinking in the sounds I made, the way my body moved under her.

The moment built beautifully, not rushed, not wild. Just layered. Intimate. Intoxicating.

I pulled back from Bernard's length, licking my lips as I exhaled, eyes still locked on his. He cupped my face in one broad hand, his breath heavy, but controlled. I could tell he was holding back. For us.

Kate shifted between my legs, her tongue trailing upward until she pressed a final kiss just below my navel. She looked up at me, flushed and glowing, then turned her head to look at Bernard, truly look at him.

There was something in her expression: curiosity, yes, but also trust. And hunger.

"If you want me..." she said, her voice low and steady, "I'm yours."

The room went quiet for half a second, and in that stillness, something sacred passed between the three of us.

I brushed Kate's hair gently behind her ear, then leaned in to kiss her. Slow. Deep. Full of gratitude. I cradled her cheek as I kissed her, then moved to press my lips softly to her shoulder, her collarbone.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" I murmured to Bernard, my hands gliding down Kate's bare sides.

"In every way," he said, voice thick, eyes locked on hers.

Kate lay back slightly into the cushions, legs parting naturally. I settled beside her, kissing her neck, her chest, as Bernard knelt between her legs. His hands were steady as they slid along her thighs, pausing for a moment, asking without words.

Kate nodded, breath catching. "Yes."

As Bernard leaned in, I stayed beside her, my lips on her shoulder, my hand stroking her side. She turned to me with wide eyes as he entered her slowly, carefully, filling her with a groan that made my whole body shiver.

"You're okay?" I whispered, stroking her hair.

Her answer was breathless, but certain. "Yes. More than okay."

I watched as her body opened to him, guided her through it, kissed her mouth, her breasts, her stomach, grounding her, connecting us. I wasn't just a witness. I was part of it. Present in every touch, every sound, every trembling breath.

And Kate? She moaned my name even as Bernard moved inside her.

I watched Bernard move inside her, slow, deep strokes, the way I knew he did when he wanted a woman to feel every inch of him. Kate gasped softly, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands clutching the sofa cushions. Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a moan that echoed low and helpless from somewhere deep inside her.

And God, she was beautiful like that.

Her chest rising and falling. Her hair spread in tousled waves over the cushion. Her soft, flushed body opening for him, for us.

And I wasn't jealous. Not even close.

What I felt was... electric.

It was like watching a part of myself unfold from a new angle. The same man who knew every inch of my body was now learning hers, not taking her away from me, but inviting her in. And she wanted it. She wanted us. And seeing Bernard give her that? Seeing Kate lose herself to him while my hands stroked her skin and my mouth kissed every trembling part of her?

It made me wet all over again.

I slipped one hand between my legs, fingers moving slowly, matching the rhythm of Bernard's thrusts as I leaned in and kissed Kate's lips. "You feel good?" I whispered.

"So good," she breathed. "He's so big... so deep..."

I kissed her harder, one hand on her breast, the other still working between my own legs. I moaned softly against her mouth, tasting her pleasure, her surrender.

Bernard looked at me then, his eyes locking on mine, a flicker of intensity there. I could tell he was close. His rhythm was changing, deeper, slower, a quiet groan catching in his throat.

I broke the kiss with Kate and brushed her damp hair from her face. "Where do you want him to cum?" I whispered, the question full of heat but laced with gentle authority. "You get to choose."

Her eyes opened wide, surprised, a little breathless. She looked between us, flushed and trembling.

"I... I don't know," she said with a little laugh, but her hips rolled against Bernard's in response. "Inside?"

I kissed her softly. "Then tell him. It's your body now."

She swallowed and turned her head slightly to look at him. "You can cum inside me, Bernard. If you want to."

His groan in response was low and guttural, his hands gripping her hips tighter as his body rocked harder into hers.

And I stayed close -- kissing her shoulder, her jaw, her lips, whispering, "That's it... take all of it."

Kate's moans had shifted, from surprise to surrender to something sharp and raw. I could feel it in the way her body arched beneath Bernard's, in the tremble of her thighs as they gripped his hips, in the way her hand reached blindly for mine and held on tight.

"She's close," Bernard said, breath catching as he drove deeper, slower, grinding into her with the kind of control that made my own body ache.

"I know," I whispered, brushing a kiss to Kate's cheek. "Let it go, sweetheart."

That was all it took.

She cried out, full and unfiltered, her body locking around him as the orgasm tore through her. Her nails scraped lightly along my side, her hips rolling helplessly, riding every wave of it. And the moment I felt her break apart beneath us, something inside me shattered too.

Watching her come apart on my husband with my hand in hers, with my mouth on her, it was overwhelming. Hot, beautiful, surreal. I came with her, my body tensing, thighs shaking, breath ragged against her skin.

And then Bernard groaned, low and guttural, his thrusts losing rhythm as he pressed deep one final time and spilled into her. I felt the moment he gave in, the way his hands gripped tighter, the soft shudder of his release against her skin.

The room was thick with heat, with the sound of breath and heartbeat and shared stillness. Bernard lowered his head to Kate's shoulder, chest heaving, still inside her, holding her with a kind of reverence.

And me?

I moved.

I slid down between Kate's legs, kissed the inside of her thigh, then licked softly, tasting her. Tasting him. My first time. And I didn't flinch. I didn't hesitate. I moaned softly into her, letting the mixed taste of her orgasm and his linger on my tongue, savouring it. It was earthy, raw, primal. Intimate in a way I hadn't known I was craving.

Kate gasped, her hips twitching under the touch, already sensitive, but she didn't pull away. Her hand found my hair, gentle, stroking. Bernard watched with heavy-lidded eyes from beside us, his hand resting on her belly, still catching his breath.

When I finally came back up, I kissed her softly, then him, before collapsing between them on the wide, warm cushions.

Kate curled into my side, Bernard behind me, his arm draped over both of us.

We lay tangled, flushed, spent, nothing left to do but breathe together. No words needed. Just the shared hum of something that felt tender, powerful, and new.

And in that perfect silence, I smiled.

Because everything felt exactly right.

The silence between us wasn't empty. It was full, full of warmth, breath, the soft hum of satisfied bodies pressed close. My head rested on Kate's shoulder, Bernard behind me, his hand draped across my waist. The candlelight had burned low, casting a golden flicker across the room, and outside, the sound of the sea rolled in like a lullaby.

I felt Kate's chest rise and fall beneath me, slower now, her body completely relaxed. I turned my head and pressed a soft kiss just above her collarbone.

"You okay?" I whispered.

She nodded, her voice soft, almost drowsy. "More than okay. I don't think I've felt this... held, in years."

Bernard's hand smoothed down my side. "That's all we ever wanted for you."

She glanced toward him, eyes glinting in the low light. "You two are dangerous together."

I smiled and kissed her again. "Then stay. Tonight. No pressure. No expectations. Just... stay."

Kate hesitated for half a second, then exhaled a quiet, contented laugh. "I'd like that."

I reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You can sleep wherever you feel comfortable. Guest room, one of the big beds upstairs... or with us."

Bernard added quietly, "You're welcome anywhere. The choice is yours."

She didn't answer straight away, but I could feel it, the way her body pressed just a little closer to mine, the way her fingers tangled with mine beneath the blanket. And I knew.

We didn't need to move. Not tonight.

We'd already arrived.

Everything after that night

The morning sun spilled through the wide terrace doors, the golden light stretching slowly across the floorboards and creeping up the edge of the sofa where we'd all fallen asleep tangled together. I stirred first, blinking into the warmth, limbs heavy, body sore in the most delicious way.

Kate was still curled beside me, one arm slung lazily across my waist, her face peaceful, hair wild against the cushion. Bernard was stretched out behind me, already awake, one hand idly stroking my hip beneath the sheet.

He kissed my shoulder. "Morning."

I smiled without opening my eyes. "Morning."

We lay like that for a while -- no rush, no words. Just the sound of the waves outside, the creak of the house settling, the quiet breathing of three people who had crossed a line they weren't in any hurry to return from.

Eventually, Kate stirred, murmuring something soft as she blinked into the light. She looked between us with a smile -- not uncertain, not regretful. Just content.

"I should probably head home," she said gently, voice still thick with sleep.

I sat up, brushing the hair from her face. "You don't have to rush."

"I know," she said, pulling the sheet with her as she sat up. "But I think I need a moment to let it all settle. Process. It was... a lot. In the best way."

I nodded, understanding completely. I kissed her softly -- on the mouth, then her shoulder -- before helping her up.

She got dressed slowly, comfortably, casting little glances at me as she pulled her dress back on. We didn't need to say much. Something unspoken had passed between us last night -- something neither of us needed to define just yet.

I walked her to the door, barefoot, still wrapped in the blanket. She turned back just before stepping out.

"Thank you," she said simply.

"Anytime," I replied.

And just as the door clicked shut behind her, I heard it -- keys in the side door, a familiar shuffle of footsteps.

Anton.

I turned toward the hallway as he appeared in the open-plan space, gym bag slung over one shoulder, hoodie pushed back off his head.

He paused when he saw me -- eyes raking over my tousled hair, the blanket, the unmistakable morning-after glow.

His brow lifted, lips curving. "So... I missed something, didn't I?"

I grinned.

"Oh, Anton," I said, walking past him with a brush of my fingers across his chest. "You have no idea."

I barely made it three steps past Anton when I felt his eyes trailing over me, that heavy, knowing silence he always carried when he was holding something back. But this time, I didn't want him to hold anything back.

I turned around slowly, the blanket still loose around my shoulders, the edge barely clinging to my hips.

"You missed quite a night," I said, voice low.

He tilted his head slightly, that teasing glint already in his eyes. "I could smell it the second I walked in."

I smiled, slow, wicked, and let the blanket slip off entirely, puddling at my feet. I stood in nothing but the silk camisole from the night before, clinging to skin still flushed from everything Kate and Bernard had done to me.

Anton didn't move. Didn't speak.

So I stepped to the kitchen counter, braced my hands on the cool surface, and slowly bent over, arching my back, presenting myself to him, bare beneath the hem of the silk.

"She came on Bernard's cock," I said softly, breath catching. "I was right there. Kissing her. Touching her. Helping her fall apart."

I heard the shift of his gym bag hit the floor behind me. Then footsteps.

"Then I went down on her," I continued, my voice thick now. "Tasted her. Tasted him."

His hands came to my hips, hard, possessive and I moaned as he pulled me back against him. I could already feel how ready he was, pressing thick and heavy through the front of his joggers.

"You know how hard it was," he growled, "sleeping somewhere else while my girl was tasting another woman's pussy for the first time?"

His hand slid up my back and tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to make me gasp. I arched further, pressing against him shamelessly.

"I wanted you to miss it," I whispered, breathless. "So I could tell you about it like this."

"Then keep talking," he said, sliding his fingers between my legs, groaning at how wet I already was. "But don't think I'm not going to make up for lost time."

I laughed, low and eager, fingers tightening on the edge of the counter. "I'm counting on it."

Anton's hand stayed tangled in my hair, firm and possessive, holding me in place as he leaned in over my back. His breath was hot against my ear, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

"You wanted me to feel it, didn't you?" he said. "What I missed. What I wasn't allowed to touch."

I nodded, mouth open, breath caught somewhere between guilt and anticipation. "Yes."

He let go of my hair just long enough to yank my camisole up over my hips, baring me to the morning air -- and to him. His hands gripped my waist hard, thumbs digging into my skin as he pulled me back against him.

"I came watching her take him. I came tasting them." I moaned.

He hissed through his teeth and pressed his forehead to the back of my neck for a second, steadying himself, then his hand slid between my thighs. He groaned softly at how wet I still was.

"You're dripping for me."

I moaned, unable to deny it, my body responding to the weight of him, the way he handled me like he'd been thinking about it for hours. Maybe he had.

When he finally pressed against me, the air left my lungs. I braced for it, not just the stretch or the depth but for the wave of heat that always came with being taken by Anton like this: no hesitation, no apology. Just need. Just him.

His hands never stopped moving, one gripping my hip, the other sliding up my back, then tangling in my hair again as he pulled me upright against his chest. I cried out, my hands still flat against the counter, my body arching back into him.

"You don't come until I say," he growled.

I bit my lip, nodded, desperate.

He drove into me again, hard and deep, and I gasped, head falling back onto his shoulder. The rhythm was unforgiving. Filthy. Beautiful.

"Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me what it was like. Watching Bernard fuck her."

I managed, breathless, "She gave herself to him like she belonged there. And I... I loved watching it."

"And now?"

"Now I want you to take me like you own me."

He snarled softly, pulling my head back by my hair just enough to kiss me, messy and hard, before his hand slipped around to my front. Every touch, every thrust, was designed to ruin me, and I let him.

Because I wanted him to.

Because I needed him to.

And as the tension coiled deep inside me again, tighter and tighter, I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

Not with him.

Not like this.

I was trembling now, every nerve lit like wire, my breath ragged and shallow as Anton's rhythm drove me higher. I tried -- truly tried -- to hold back like he told me to, but it was no use. My body had already made its choice.

"Anton--" I gasped, my voice nearly breaking, "I can't... I can't hold it..."

His grip on my hips tightened, and he leaned in close, his voice rough and low against my neck. "Then come for me. Now."

That was all it took.

I shattered with a cry, my hands slamming down flat on the countertop, knees buckling as my orgasm tore through me. I felt my body clench around him, pulsing in waves I couldn't control, couldn't contain. I moaned his name again and again, falling forward, only his hands keeping me upright as I unraveled completely.

"Fuck, Tracy..." he growled, slowing just for a moment to keep me steady, then pulling out with a hiss.

Before I could recover, he was guiding me gently -- but firmly -- turning me around, sinking to his knees in front of me. His cock was slick, throbbing, the tension in his body held on a tight thread. I dropped to my knees too, dizzy, still panting, and looked up at him with flushed cheeks and shining eyes.

He cupped my chin, his thumb brushing my lower lip.

"Open," he said, voice tight.

I did -- willingly, hungrily.

He stroked himself once, twice, and then let go -- a raw, guttural groan tearing from his throat as his release hit. Hot ropes of it landed across my face, my tongue, dripping down my chin. I kept my eyes on his the whole time, moaning softly as I tasted him, letting it mark me -- his satisfaction, his hunger, us.

His chest heaved as he looked at me -- flushed, covered, glowing.

"God, you're perfect," he murmured, still catching his breath.

I smiled, running a finger through the mess on my cheek, licking it slowly with a playful glint in my eye.

"Welcome home."

~~~

The sun had dipped lower in the sky, painting the beach in long shadows and golden light. The house was quiet again -- not in the tense, expectant way it had been before, but in the peaceful stillness of people who'd finally exhaled.

We were on the terrace, the three of us. Me curled between them on the outdoor sofa, still in an oversized shirt of Bernard's, legs tucked up beneath me. Bernard sat to my right, bare feet propped on the low table, his hand resting on my thigh. Anton leaned back to my left, freshly showered, his curls still damp, nursing a cold drink and watching the horizon with that thoughtful stillness he wore so well.

"So," Anton said finally, glancing at me with a smirk. "Are we going to talk about it, or do I have to guess what else happened last night?"

I smiled, tracing slow circles on Bernard's thigh. "We were waiting for the right moment."

Bernard chuckled. "This feels like the right moment."

Anton raised an eyebrow. "Alright then. How was she?"

I let out a soft laugh. "She was... open. Responsive. Nervous at first, but she trusted me. Trusted us."

I leaned my head back against the cushion and looked up at the sky, letting the warmth settle back over me as I recalled the night.

"She let me undress her. I kissed every inch of her. She moaned my name. She came hard -- twice."

Anton's smirk softened into something more thoughtful. "And with Bernard?"

I turned toward Bernard with a slow smile. "She offered herself to him. Completely. I stayed with her the whole time -- kissed her, held her, made sure she knew she wasn't alone. It was beautiful."

Bernard nodded, his voice low. "She wanted to be taken... but held. And Tracy gave her both."

Anton was quiet for a beat, then asked gently, "And how do you feel about it?"

I paused, letting the weight of the question settle. Then I smiled.

"I feel full. Not just physically. Emotionally. It wasn't just sex. It was... something we made space for. And she stepped into it. With us."

Anton reached across and took my hand. "You're amazing, you know that?"

I squeezed his fingers. "So are you. For letting it happen. For not pushing. For understanding."

Bernard raised his glass. "To trust," he said.

"To openness," I added.

Anton clinked his drink against ours, his eyes glinting. "And to whatever happens next."

We sat back in the golden light, the tide whispering below us, and the feeling that whatever came next -- we were ready for it. Together.

After the dust has settled

A week passed, but the memory of that night with Kate lingered like heat in the sheets. Her scent, her voice, the way her body responded -- all of it resurfaced in flashes. In daydreams. In the soft glances between Bernard, Anton, and me when her name came up.

It was a quiet afternoon -- sun high, the breeze just enough to keep the heat from settling too thickly over the garden. Bernard and Anton were stretched out on the sun loungers, shorts low on their hips, skin golden from the sun. I was between them, knees in the grass, the heat of the stone path beneath me, the taste of each of them still warm on my tongue.

We hadn't planned it. But I'd slipped off my bikini top an hour ago, and one thing had led to another -- the teasing, the watching, the way Bernard reached for me when I bent too slowly to pick up a drink. And now, I was taking my time with Anton, my hands stroking him, mouth working in slow, wet movements while Bernard watched with hungry approval.

Then I heard it -- the soft clink of the garden gate.

I paused, Anton's hand still in my hair, my heart kicking up. We all turned toward the hedge line just as Kate stepped around the corner, squinting slightly from the sun.

She froze.

"I--" she stammered, eyes going wide as they fell on us. "I knocked. No one answered. I figured you'd be out here..."

She stopped short, her gaze dropping to where I was knelt, Anton's erection slick in my hand.

I smiled, not flustered -- not anymore.

"Well," I said softly, "you figured right."

Kate didn't run. She didn't look away.

She stepped forward, slowly. Her eyes met mine, then flicked to Anton, who gave her a crooked, unbothered grin.

"Tracy..." she said, still breathless, "you're really just... out here, like this?"

I nodded, licking my lips. "It's a beautiful day. We got carried away."

Bernard sat up slightly. "You're welcome to join," he said, voice smooth, as though offering a glass of wine.

Kate hesitated.

Then she stepped forward.

She crouched beside me in the grass, her sundress falling open just enough to show the soft swell of her breast. She looked at Anton, then at me. "Do you mind if I...?"

I smiled and took her hand. "I'd love that."

Anton groaned softly as Kate leaned in beside me, tentative at first, her lips brushing against his shaft as I held him still. I guided her gently, showed her the rhythm, and before long, we were working together -- warm, wet mouths taking turns, kissing, sharing, laughing a little as Anton cursed under his breath, gripping the edge of the lounger.

"Fuck, you two--" he gasped, then lost his words.

When he came, it was with a shudder, a cry, and neither of us pulled away. I swallowed instinctively, the taste now familiar, but I glanced at Kate -- her eyes wide, lips glistening.

She licked her lips slowly, like she wasn't quite sure what to think.

"You alright?" I asked gently, touching her thigh.

"I... I always thought I'd hate it," she said quietly. "I thought it was disgusting."

"And now?" Bernard asked from beside us, voice low.

Kate looked at me, still dazed, and smiled -- slow, genuine, and just a little wicked.

"I think I need to try it again... to be sure."

Kate was still beside me, flushed and wide-eyed, her lips parted slightly as she caught her breath. The taste of Anton lingered faintly between us -- not just on her tongue, but in the air, in the warmth of the moment. She glanced at me, almost laughing at herself.

"I always thought I'd hate that," she said softly. "But I didn't."

I leaned in, brushing a kiss to her cheek. "You looked beautiful doing it."

Kate looked up at me as I peeled her dress away, her eyes wide, dark with anticipation. She lifted her hips for me willingly, breath shaky as I slid her panties down her thighs and off with care. The sun caught on the sheen of her skin, and for a moment, I just looked at her -- open, trusting, beautiful.

I eased down onto the lounger cushion laid across the grass, my back against the warm fabric, the sky stretching high above me. I felt completely open, completely alive.

Kate climbed over me slowly, her bare knees pressing into the grass on either side of my head. Her dress was gone, and her thighs trembled just slightly as she lowered herself above my mouth. I met her eyes for just a second -- hers wide, trusting, pulsing with want -- before she sank down, her heat pressing to my lips.

I moaned into her, my hands gripping her hips as I began to taste her again, more deeply this time -- not teasing, not gentle, but raw and deliberate. Her fingers found my hair, bracing herself, her head tipping back with a breathless cry.

And then Bernard stepped closer.

I could just see the line of his legs beyond her -- his cock already hard, heavy, glistening as he stroked it once, then twice. Kate opened her eyes, and there he was, standing right in front of her.

She looked up at him, lips parted. He placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face toward his.

"Ready?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

"Good girl," I heard him murmur, just as he guided himself into her waiting mouth.

Kate moaned around him, her body shivering above mine, the vibration of it travelling down as she took him deeper. The angle made her hips rock gently against my mouth, and I held her tighter, tongue flicking and pressing, matching her rhythm.

Then I felt the heat of Anton's breath -- lower, between my thighs -- and the first slow stroke of his tongue.

My entire body arched.

His hands slid under my thighs, holding me wide open as he licked into me with that familiar, expert hunger -- slow at first, then deeper, faster, circling and stroking until I was gasping into Kate, the taste of her flooding my mouth as my own climax built with impossible speed.

We were all moving together -- Bernard groaning above us as Kate's head bobbed in his hands, Kate moaning as she ground herself on my tongue, Anton devouring me from below until I couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe without falling apart.

I came first -- hard, loud, my cries muffled against Kate's skin, body shaking violently as Anton held me still and licked me through it, relentless and perfect.

Kate came next, my hands guiding her rhythm, her body collapsing slightly forward, overwhelmed, as Bernard grunted sharply above her.

He pulled out just in time, spilling hot across her cheek, her lips, her breasts. Kate gasped at the heat of it, her hands gripping my thighs as she trembled.

Above me, her breath came fast. "I-- I've never--"

"Swallowed?" Bernard asked gently, brushing her cheek.

She nodded, dazed.

And then, before either of us could speak, she dipped her head, flicked her tongue out, and tasted him.

A moment of silence.

And then she moaned softly. "Okay... that wasn't what I expected."

I laughed beneath her, the sound muffled by her body. Bernard chuckled low, brushing a hand through her hair.

Anton kissed the inside of my thigh once more and settled beside us on the grass, his fingers laced with mine.

And in the fading sun, our bodies tangled, sticky and warm and full of something far deeper than lust, I realised just how far we'd come -- and how much more we had left to explore.

~~~

The garden was quiet now. The breeze had cooled just slightly, brushing across sweat-slicked skin, carrying the distant sound of waves crashing below the bluff. I lay sprawled in the grass, head resting on Bernard's chest, one of Anton's arms looped around my waist. Kate was curled between us all, her bare leg draped over mine, hair messy and clinging to her shoulder.

No one spoke at first.

We were too blissed out, too wrapped in the quiet afterglow of something that felt less like an encounter and more like a turning point.

It was Kate who finally broke the silence -- her voice soft, raw.

"I don't want to go home."

I turned my head toward her. "Then don't."

Her eyes met mine -- uncertain for just a second, but I saw the shift. The surrender. The answer she'd already given with her body long before her voice caught up.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Bernard's hand slid up her back, soothing. "You've crossed the line already, Kate," he said gently. "And we're not asking you to go back."

Anton kissed the top of her shoulder. "You felt it too, didn't you?"

She nodded slowly. "All of it. Every second."

I reached for her hand, laced our fingers together. "Then stay. Not just the night. Stay with us. See what this becomes."

She smiled -- not just with her mouth, but her whole face. Relief. Excitement. And a little disbelief that something this good could be so real.

"You mean that?" she whispered.

"Yes," Bernard said, firm. "We do."

Kate exhaled shakily and curled deeper into the space between us, her hand now resting on Anton's chest, her toes brushing mine. We shifted to make room, instinctively wrapping around her. As though she'd always been there. As though she'd never not belonged.

We lay like that for a long while. Not talking about what came next. Just being in it. Breathing together. Replete.

Four bodies, one rhythm.