Matt and Julie sat across from each other in the soft light of their dining room, the clinking of forks and knives the only sound filling the space. The aftermath of their wild weekend lingered between them, an unspoken current neither had yet dared to address. Matt studied his chicken pancetta with more focus than it deserved, while Julie’s gaze flickered between her wineglass and the window, searching for words somewhere in the shiver of yard between their house and the neighbors.
They had always joked that suburbia would be boring, but after their first taste of swinging with Pete and Kristen, the way the boundaries of their little world had shifted, and neither Matt nor Julie quite knew how to act. The air was thick with memories, with questions, and desires.
Julie set her fork down, fingers tracing circles on the stem of her glass. “Okay,” she kicked off, her voice flirty, but muffled and slightly shaky, “I’m stuck working late Tuesday. Big meeting leaning into our project deadline.”
Matt looked up, caught off guard by her out-of-nowhere declaration, and found her watching him, a devious smile creeping across her lips.
She leaned in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Maybe you should check and see what Pete’s doing that night. Wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”
A flush raced across Matt’s face. The spell of silence was broken, replaced by a spark of excitement. She wasn’t put off by sharing him over the weekend after all. “You’re the best, hun.” Matt smiled back at his bride.
“I know.” Julie winked.
—
Later that evening, after Julie had disappeared into her office with work emails and Matt was left wandering the quiet house, his phone buzzed with a message from Pete:
Hey man, bourbons at my place Tuesday?
Matt grinned, remembering Julie’s encouragement. She must have given him a nudge, he thought. After a few moments looking for an emoji, Matt gave up and texted back:
Sounds good. Just us, or…
Pete’s answer came with a winking emoji:
Anyone you want to invite?
Normally, it’s just Brooke and me, but Kristen mentioned she had a fun last weekend.
Matt hesitated, feeling the rush of last weekend’s excitement all over again. He typed back:
If Kristen’s around… I wouldn’t mind
Pete’s response was immediate:
She’ll be waiting
—
On Tuesday evening, Matt returned to his neighbor’s door, the newfound gateway to temptations. Brooke again answered, her youthful face flashing into a welcoming smile. She was draped in a thin, short silk robe that shimmered in the soft hall light and clung to her every curve before its hem grazed the top of her thighs. “Glad you made it,” she said warmly, a playful note in her tone. After taking Matt’s coat, she gently guided him down the softly lit hallway with a touch on his arm.
As they reached the study, Pete was waiting, looking relaxed in his favorite chair. At his feet, Kristen sat with effortless poise, dressed in a seductive robe matching Brooke’s, but sliding teasingly from one shoulder, as if to avoid her enchantingly wavy hair resting across her collarbone.
The fireplace crackled a welcome as Kristen stood to greet him, paying no attention to how her robe continued to slip, revealing more of her captivating cleavage.
Matt paused in the doorway, momentarily stunned. Kristen looked every bit the daydream he’d been replaying since his last weekend, her confidence, her gentle smile, and the mischievous glint in her eyes.
Kristen crossed the room, picked up a crystal decanter, and poured a generous measure of bourbon into a glass. With a teasing smile, she turned to Matt, her voice soft and inviting. “Welcome back,” she said, her eyes holding his. “I was hoping you’d come thirsty.”
Matt accepted the drink, their fingers brushing for a heartbeat longer than necessary. The air nearly sucked out of his lungs as he recounted the forbidden taste of her lips. Matt took his seat with a grin that almost hurt; he felt like a king.
He settled into the soft leather of the dramatic, plush, winged-back chair. Kristen’s perfume filled his senses. She sat on the edge of the chair and draped her arm around Matt’s shoulder.
Pete and Brooke exchanged knowing glances as she took her place at Pete’s feet. Kristen, her eyes locked with Matt’s, leaned closer, her voice hot against his ear. “So, Matt,” she purred, her fingers tracing the rim of his glass, “do you think you can last longer than my husband?”
Kristen’s deft fingers were already toying with the zipper of his pants as Matt took a deep breath before sipping on his warming bourbon.
“I think she loves blow jobs more than I love whiskey,” Pete laughed from his own chair. Brooke had shed her robe and was kneeling over the bundle of Pete’s pants between his legs, her bare back and rounded ass on full display.
Kristen followed suit, letting her robe drop to the floor. Forcing Matt to take another sip to calm his nerves. It was only the second time he’d seen the body of his neighbor’s wife, whom he’d been drooling over for years, but this time, under the light of the roaring fireplace, she was as flawless as ever.
“I’m going to drain your balls like they’ve never been drained before,” Kristen purred as she dropped to her knees and pulled down his pants. Matt’s breath hitched, his gaze fixed on the perfect curve of her breasts as she moved. The scent of her, mingled with the bourbon and the woodsmoke, was a rush like nothing he’d felt before.
Soon Kristen’s lips brushed against his, and a shiver ran down his spine. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment, the world outside the study melting away.
The sound of Pete’s low groan and Brooke’s slurping noises were distant, belonging to another reality. His reality was a dream. The velvety hands pumped his throbbing erection as Kristen’s lips cupped the tip of his cock head, coaxing it to the limits of his hardness.
The bourbon warmed his soul, amplifying the overwhelming eroticism of the moment. Kristen’s attention was immaculate. Her lips embrace a slow, exquisite torture; her tongue’s touch set his nerves on fire with the deluge of pleasure. “This is fucking amazing.” Matt panted.
Pete grunted, “George T Stagg single barrel, it’s one of my favorites.”
Matt’s eyes snapped back to his friend, who was taking another sip of his drink while petting Brooke’s hair. She was bobbing her head faster now, and the resounding sounds of her nearly choking on Pete’s dick were echoing louder than the hearth.
He felt a wave of heat wash over him, not just from the bourbon or the roaring fire, but from the sheer intensity of the scene unfolding around him. Kristen’s devotion to his cock was a masterclass in pleasure. The moment consumed him, his thoughts dissolving into pure sensation.
Suddenly, Pete let out a loud groan that echoed through the room, and Brooke mirrored his elation, her breath warm and quick as he exploded deep into her eager throat. His grunt softened into ragged panting.
Brooke turned to Matt, a cheeky smirk across her glowing face, then opened her mouth to reveal her prize, as Pete’s cum dribbled from her lips.
Kristen sighed softly, turning to acknowledge Brooke. “Fine, you win,” Brooke smirked, swallowing with a flourish, the sound crisp in the charged silence. “Well, hurry up and get me my taste.” She giggled, the lightness in her voice contrasting with the intensity, as she sauntered over to Matt’s chair. Brooke pressed her full breasts against his face, the warmth of skin and softness inviting, and Matt gleefully indulged, his eager sucking joining Kristen’s as she resumed her worship of his cock.
Kristen’s tongue swirled around his shaft, her mouth a velvet cavern, promising an all-consuming bliss. Brooke’s hands moved lower, stroking his thighs with an almost controlling rhythm as he sucked ravenously on her nipples. Her gasps and moans, sharp little cries, pushed him ever closer to the precipice of pure ecstasy. He felt the weight of Pete’s gaze, a fierce, possessive glint in his eyes, a silent challenge as the ice clinked in the shaker, another round of drinks being mixed.
“Cum for us, baby,” Brooke moaned as she raked his hair, sweeping aside the last vestiges of his composure. With a manic grunt, Matt gave a final decisive thrust into Kristen’s eager mouth, flooding it with round after round of hot seed until Kristen began to cough and sputter.
Brooke’s eyes lit up as she rushed to join her at Matt’s feet, pulling her hair back and forcing her into a brutal, lust-fueled kiss. She pressed her mouth to Kristen’s, a wild, demanding kiss that left no room for air. Matt watched, his own arousal still palpable as his muscles tensed with a satisfaction so profound it bordered on hallucination. Brooke squeaked with pleasure, her tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of his release and her prize.
Pete handed his friend a fresh whiskey as the women continued to kiss and moan as their tongues fought over the remnants of Matt’s essence. The clinking of ice provided a somber contrast to the erotic scene. He raised his eyebrows as Pete raised his glass in a toast. “To neighbors.”
Matt agreed. “To neighbors!” he toasted as he took in the sight with another refreshing sip. “So, I have a business trip next week…”
“Consider Julie well looked after.” Pete declared with a wink.
