Only the Spicy Bits Ch. 02

Most of my stories are relatively long - I like getting to know characters as unique, lovable people before anybody's clothes come off.

That said, I've heard from readers that it would be nice to have quick ways to return to a few of their favorite sultry scenes. So this "Only the Spicy Bits" series has excerpts re-worked to serve as stand-alones: less feature film, more ten-minute internet clip.

The following scene is adapted from "Vashti's Solstice Gift."

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When my spouse and I realized that we'd be traveling through the hometown of my college girlfriend and then invited her out to dinner, I definitely didn't expect that the evening would end with my spouse watching while Vashti and I made love.

Sex with Vashti was a delight. After her first two orgasms, Vashti ended up lying on her back with her legs wrapped around my waist. Her lips were pillowy, kiss-swollen: we'd been making out while I thrust into her. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown with desire.

And my spouse was right there, perched in a chair beside the bed, masturbating, reputedly very wet.

My spouse also had come once already by the time I felt myself growing close. That's when Vashti asked if I'd be willing to pull out, straddle her chest, and ejaculate on her. Her breathy voice sounded so sexy while making the request. It seems I'd nearly fucked the air right out of her.

I rose - Vashti gave a gratifying shudder when my cock slipped free from her body - and peeled the condom off. I was already anticipating how good it would to feel to have her soft breasts surrounding my bare cock. I'd get to thrust between them, seeking just the right amount of friction. I'd come. Then perhaps have the extravagant privilege of seeing Vashti circle her hands around, smearing my semen over her chest and neck.

All while my spouse was watching.

That's what gave the evening such a scintillating, transgressive thrill. Even now, after all the talking that my spouse and I have done - even knowing that my spouse gets quite turned on by a bit of voyeurism - having sex with someone else while my spouse is in the room always feels so intense.

In that moment, Vashti smiled up at me. She caressed her own chest, then used her hands to push her breasts together. She looked amazing. My breath came out in a low, ragged exhale.

I was ready to climb up over her torso.

But that's when my spouse spoke up.

My spouse asked, "Vashti... could he come on your face?"

Vashti blushed so deeply, then. A sudden prickle of sweat. A little flicker of her eyes.

None of which went unnoticed by my spouse.

And so my spouse cooed that same question again: "Would you like that, Vashti? To have him come... on your face? Because I would really like to watch that."

Vashti locked eyes with my spouse, and she squirmed a bit, but she still hadn't spoken up.

My spouse went on: "God, you're so, so pretty. People everywhere must get so turned on just seeing you. Even in your day-to-day, let alone like this. I didn't think I could get any wetter, but now I'm imagining what it'll be like..."

I was riveted. Hearing my spouse say these things, and seeing Vashti's response. Vashti's skin, blooming with such a deep flush. Her little shudders of anticipation.

"... getting to watch him come all over your face. Would you like that, Vashti? Oh, Vashti. To have him come? To have me watch?"

A pause.

A very erotically-charged pause.

And, my spouse, still talking. Laying out this proposition.

"Vashti. You have to say it, Vashti. You have to tell me if you want it."

"I want it," Vashti said, softly.

But that wasn't good enough for my spouse.

"Want what, Vashti? You have to say it. I want to hear you say it."

I'd pulled out of Vashti over a minute ago - at that moment, I wasn't even stroking myself - yet this conversation had made me even harder than I'd been before.

Vashti hid her deep blush behind her hands when she finally blurted out the words: "I want you to watch your husband come on my face."

My spouse reached forward and gently drew Vashti's hands away. Then my spouse ran a finger along Vashti's jawline. My spouse gently thumbed Vashti's kiss-swollen lower lip. This was significantly more intimate touching than Vashti and my spouse had engaged in so far that evening, and Vashti seemed to find it electric. Her whole body was quivering atop those rumpled sheets. She gave my spouse a shy smile.

With a hand still cupping Vashti's face, my spouse asked, "May I keep masturbating while I watch him come on you?"

"God, I want you to," Vashti said.

Then my spouse gave Vashti's jaw a little squeeze and let go, easing back into the chair to make way for me. I crawled forward, over Vashti's body. I rose to my knees, worked up some saliva, and lustily licked my own palm. Then I began to masturbate.

I had my right hand wrapped around my shaft, pumping, working to get myself off. With my left hand, I resumed fondling Vashti's body. I brought my hand down gently but assertively a few times upon Vashti's flushed cheeks. (She purred in appreciation after every impact.) I used my thumb and forefinger to cradle her chin while I gazed into her eyes. I stroked my fingertips over her jawline and neck. I palmed her breasts, then lightly pinched her nipples. (Another purr.) I reached back to let my fingers tease between her legs. Then slid them in. I kept them there, working my fingers in and out of her until Vashti began to groan. I continued a while longer, then reached up and slid those same slicked fingers into her mouth.

I watched Vashti suck the taste of herself from my hand.

As she sucked, Vashti's dimples showed, which was a lovely sight. Her mouth looked so enticing. Enough that I soon withdrew my hand, shifted my hips farther forward, and lowered my cock to her lips.

With a contented hum, Vashti took me in. She began to suck me off. This was more difficult for me to watch than when I'd had my fingers in her mouth, but my spouse has assured me that it looked sexy.

It certainly felt amazing.

Vashti alternated between fluttering her tongue along the sensitive underside of my erection, and sucking vigorously. What Vashti was doing was no dainty little blowjob. She was intently sucking cock. Which made me realize: Vashti really wanted for me to come.

On. Her. Face.

When I slid out of her mouth, rising to once again kneel over her, I started stroking myself faster.

Vashti bit her lower lip and said, "I actually really love watching men masturbate. And I'm always too shy to ask! I never got to watch you when we were dating during college."

My spouse said, "Watch him now."

I slid my slicked fist up and down my cock.

My spouse said, "Look how excited you've made him."

The room wasn't that hot, but I could feel sweat trickling down my body.

My spouse said, "He thinks of you at home. Still thinks of you. I've watched him do this, at our house, while he thinks of you. He's told me some of his fantasies. Do you realize, Vashti? I've watched him masturbate while he's described fantasies that feature you by name."

These words made Vashti groan again. By then, Vashti had tucked her own hand between her legs. There we were, in that motel room - Vashti, my spouse, and me - and all three of us were masturbating.

I set a hand on Vashti's shoulder, pressing her firmly into the bed beneath me, and turned. My spouse's lips were soft and giving. It felt so gratifying to have my hand on a beautiful woman's naked body, with my penis just inches from her face, all while kissing someone else.

And then, after our deeply romantic moment, my spouse leaned toward my ear, squeezed my shoulder, and whispered, "I want to see you come all over her."

That's what made our evening so hot!

My spouse has long enjoyed watching people reach orgasm - things like la petite mort photography projects or the Hysterical Literature video series - but also, ever since becoming privy to the sort of imagery that turns me on, my spouse has developed a special appreciation for these scenes, too. Viewing the aftermath of a man's orgasm as it plays out over a lover's face. After my spouse and I began watching pornography together, and my spouse noticed the way that my heart races whenever we see someone (or many someones, plural) ejaculate on an enthusiastic partner, now my spouse's heart races, too, in empathetic synchrony.

My spouse wanted to see me do that with Vashti.

My spouse wanted to see Vashti lying there, in that motel room, right where I had fucked her - where Vashti had clutched the sheets, sometimes attempting to muffle her moans by cramming her own upper arm between her parted lips, occasionally biting down hard enough to leave a mark - where, after I'd given Vashti her first orgasm of the evening, she'd become so pliant, so responsive, so happy to let me use her body to put on a show for my spouse - now my spouse wanted to see Vashti with my semen dappling her lips, her cheeks, her chin.

Vashti had looked so put together when she'd met us for dinner that evening; now, with her face flushed and hair tousled from thrashing on the bed, she looked freshly fucked; soon, spattered in cum, she'd be delightfully unpresentable.

And as I stroked myself off above her, I found myself wondering how this moment felt for Vashti. That lingering anticipation as she lay there, not knowing when I'd come. To be waiting, tingling, beneath me on the bed... and beneath my spouse's lustful gaze.

It was so sexy to be in that room with both of them.

So I turned and kissed my spouse again, hard. Hard enough to elicit a gasp. But I couldn't help myself! It made it so much hotter for me, too, to have my spouse right there watching. To sense my spouse's anticipation for the mess I was about to make.

When my spouse and I broke from our kiss, I leaned toward Vashti's face again, rubbed the tip of my cock across her lips, then eased into her mouth. Only an inch or so. Vashti pursed her lips around me in a delightful little O. I felt her exploring with her tongue. All while I kept stroking the length of my shaft, rhythmically bumping Vashti's nose and lips with the edge of my thumb and forefinger.

Vashti's pupils were so blown. She seemed to love having me masturbate directly into her mouth. And when I reached back, hoping to resume fucking her with my fingers, I found that her own hand was still there, tucked between her legs. So I rested my hand on top of hers, feeling the play of her fingers as she strummed her clit.

My spouse, perched on that chair beside the bed and straining for another orgasm, had begun to beg: "Please."

I was trying to get myself off, with each stroke gently bumping Vashti's face, all while my spouse repeated, "Please. Come on her, please. Please."

So I leaned back, slipping from Vashti's mouth, and gripped myself more firmly. I started pumping faster. And now Vashti's voice joined my spouse's. A huskily murmured "Mmm hmmmm" as Vashti tilted her chin, presenting her face more fully.

Their pleading, maybe some of it was an act. A coordinating effort to turn me on. But there also seemed to be a genuine note of desire. Which was a lot. Enough. So much more than enough.

I felt so incredibly lucky.

Usually, when I come, I end up closing my eyes. I can take in the world until that moment, but then, with a grunt or growl or groan, a backward toss of my head, it's the world's turn to overtake me. But this time, as I felt myself so, so close, and my spouse likely guessed that I was about to shut my eyes, my spouse clutched my arm and said, "Watch her. Please. I want for you to watch."

Vashti, lying beneath me, was still cooing her encouragement, "Mmm hmmm, mmm hmm," and she was nodding, staring up at me with big blown eyes.

My spouse said, "She's so gorgeous. She's so, so pretty, I want you to watch yourself come all over her beautiful face."

Vashti was blushing as she nodded along.

Still with a hand between her legs.

My spouse said, "I want for us to watch together."

So I had to try. To come and still see where I was coming. I tried, for my spouse. And for myself. And for Vashti (who, in her scintillating thrill of exhibitionism, likely wanted as many eyes as possible on her). And also, for you. Especially if you, like my spouse, are the sort of person who gets turned on by moments when someone is coming. Or if you, like me, are the sort of person who gets turned on by the sight of cum cascading over an exceptionally beautiful face.

I relaxed my grip, stroked the underside of my cock several times with an open palm, then wrapped my fingers around myself again. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. And then, gazing down at Vashti, I gasped. She had closed her eyes. Her freckled cheeks were rounded in a smile. At the upper edges of her cheeks, comforting crow's feet crinkled. Her lips were slightly parted. A vein at the side of her neck betrayed Vashti's excitement. A subtle pair of furrows showed between her eyebrows, the way they always do when she is concentrating. She was still touching herself, and must have been close to another orgasm of her own. She looked so perfect to me. I found myself thinking, she could be a religious icon, rapturously ascending.

Pretty as a picture.

Her face wasn't yet messy.

And then...

With two more pumps of my hand and a little thrust of my hips (nearly poking Vashti's lips with the tip of my penis), I felt a pulse, a contraction along my entire length, and oxytocin went fizzing through my brain. It felt so good to be coming. I wanted to just sink into that feeling.

But also, my spouse was clutching my arm. Begging me to watch while I did this to Vashti. I owed it to us all to pay attention. (Which, really, was a small price to pay!)

I stared down at her while I came.

Vashti's little whimper when the first strand shot across her cheek was hot... but even better was her laugh, a joyful, throaty sound as I continued to come, more and more of my semen landing on her.

I watched as white lines began to dapple Vashti, each new strand almost as eye-catching as the bright arc of her teeth. Some disappeared into her hair. Most landed on her face. I found myself wondering if I should apologize - I hadn't come in several days, and this was a lot - but instead I just stifled a half-laugh half-groan and kept on going, because it seemed like she was into it. Although surely none of us had expected there would be so much!

Vashti reached up to wipe the ridges of her cheeks before any of my cum could spill down into her eyes... and promptly caught some on her wrist.

The thickest portion had fallen close, landing just below her lower lip. A long bead was sliding down her chin to pool at the hollow of her neck. And by the time I inadvertently sent a bit almost directly up her nose (whoops!), Vashti was openly giggling. Her face had bloomed with an even deeper flush. Some of my cum spilled into her mouth. She swallowed. It all felt very nice.

And then, after I came - after I felt sure that I'd finally finished coming - I gave my cock another big squeeze and began to shake the last few droplets off, onto Vashti's face. When I make love with my spouse, I'm usually not too excited by the idea of dominance, but with Vashti beneath me, this gesture felt so hot. To be using her this way. It helped that my spouse was watching. And that Vashti was still touching herself. Still smiling. Even as I shook that final bit of cum down onto her. Flicking it from my cock onto her face.

I bit my lower lip, staring at what I'd wrought.

This evening had been incredible.

Then I took a deep breath, still panting, and turned to kiss my spouse again. My spouse had been clutching my arm, gripping even tighter as I gave my cock those final shakes, but when I turned, my spouse reached up to embrace me. Cradling the back of my head. Fuck, I loved my spouse so much right then. I love my spouse so much right now, writing this. My spouse is fucking sexy.

We kissed with my whole world spinning.

And then, when we parted, I looked back down at Vashti. She was still so beautiful - her high rounded cheeks, those delightful freckles, that arousing flush - and also, well... that was a lot of semen.

Vashti's eyes were closed. She had a semi-translucent smear quivering alongside her nose. Her lips glistened. So did her chin. A glossy trail of cum led to the little pool at the cleft of her clavicle. Other slick lines arced down the sides of her face and neck toward damp spots on the bed.

Vashti still looked pretty as a picture... except now like the sort of picture that I store in the hidden album on my phone.

As though in a dream, I reached out and cupped a hand over the back of my spouse's head. I began to steer my spouse down toward Vashti. My spouse leaned in. But then, quite close, my spouse paused, momentarily resisting the gentle pressure of my hand.

"May I kiss you?" my spouse whispered to Vashti. Their faces were very, very near.

In answer, Vashti reached up and pulled my spouse in closer. Vashti is the one who initiated the kiss. I stared at Vashti's hand, caressing my spouse's shoulders. I stared at my spouse's back. My lovers' bare breasts were pressed together.

After a few moments, my spouse broke off the kiss to ask, "Do you want for me to touch you?"

And I gulped. Not just from the question: after kissing Vashti, some semen now clung to my spouse's nose and upper lip, and that sight rocked my world.

Vashti reached out, took hold of my spouse's hand, and pulled it down between her legs, wordlessly answering "yes" again.