Ashley yanked the studio bag from the hall closet and dropped it on the bed. Robe. Towel. Flip-flops. Water. Her usual small pack of basics for art studio nights. Michael came in from the bathroom casually naked, hair damp from a recent shower. He stopped when he saw the bag.
“So it’s tonight.”
“It’s tonight.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Who’s going to be there this time?”
“Same as always. A few artists. Painters, sculptures.”
“Lucky them,” he said, bothered. “Just a few artists, staring at your naked body for a few hours.”
Ashley didn’t look up. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting. I’m asking.”
She pushed the towel into the bag harder than she needed to. “And I’m answering.”
His knee started bouncing. Stopped. Started again.
“It’s just,” he said, “I guess I’m still bothered about the HOA meeting. It was really awkward.”
Ashley let out a tired breath. “Jesus. Not that again.”
“It was,” he said. “Chris, Luke and Brett all staring at you over and over again. With me standing right there, like… You know. Who knows what they’re thinking about when they’re staring at you.”
“Then take it up with Brett.”
“Don’t be a bitch,” he said, before immediately apologizing and taking it back.
“I’m sorry, I’m the one standing there like an asshole while every guy looks at you and I’m supposed to smile like it’s flattering.”
“Ah, so you feel like a bitch,” She shot back. “It’s not my job to manage their eyes.”
“It becomes your job when you act like you don’t notice,” he snapped, then caught himself and tried to sound reasonable. “You walk around this neighborhood like it’s nothing. Then you go downtown and get naked for strangers and call it art.”
“It is art. I model. For artists. As a hobby. I’ve done it for many, many years. You know this.”
“It’s attention,” he said. “And you like it.”
“This is about the studio? Or this is about you being embarrassed.”
His jaw tightened. He looked away, then back, like he had to shove the words out.
“Fine,” he said. “You want to talk about it?”
Ashley’s stomach tightened. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Pretend it’s not a problem??” His voice rose. “Pretend you’re not unsatisfied?”
She snapped the zipper closed. “Not tonight.”
“I can tell you’re disappointed, Ashley. I can always tell. And then you go around town dressed like…”
Ashley’s cheeks warmed. Not with guilt. With embarrassment on his behalf.
“I love you,” she said, controlled. “I’ve never shamed you for it.”
“I know,” he said, eyes bright, angry and ashamed at the same time. “That’s not the point. The point is I’m standing there in my own driveway while men look at you like… And all I can think is, what would they do if…”
Ashley stared at him.
“What would they do,” Michael said, his voice rough now, “if they knew your husband can’t keep you satisfied? If they knew I cum in five seconds because I can’t last with you. Do you think they’d still smile and wave? Or do you think they’d come over here like they own you.”
Ashley’s mouth tightened. “You’re being crazy. And you’re fixated on how men look at me, which is none of your business. Further, my body is not responsible for your quick ejaculation issues.”
Michael flinched.
“I’m not responsible for your orgasm,” she continued. “Not your weed. Not your anxiety. Not your ego spiral. That’s yours. And you’re not responsible for my orgasms.”
He stood too fast. “What does that mean? So you’re just going to rub it in my face by going to pose?”
“I’m going to pose tonight, like usual, because I want to,” Ashley said. “Because it’s mine. And I’m not living smaller to protect your pride.”
“I’m trying to protect us.”
“Protect us from what,” she asked. “Men having eyes?”
His voice dropped. Raw. “From me losing you.”
Ashley picked up the bag and set it upright by the dresser. Final. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going to cheat on you. I love you. You make me cum with your amazing tongue, remember? You completely satisfy me..” She lied, which was obvious. She tried to recover. “I need sex for a long time, someone banging me for hours,” She said accidentally. “Shit, I mean I don’t need… You know what? I love you. That’s all you need to know.”
He nodded, but he didn’t believe her.
“Ok, gotta go. Gonna be late.” She gave him another kiss before heading out the door.
“Have fun,” He said, trying to suppress how much he hated her going and being away from him.
One month later
Ashley groaned back at the sound of the doorbell.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in Scottsdale, and Ashley did not want to be disturbed. She’d planned nothing more than lounging by the pool, maybe a book, maybe a nap, nothing that required effort or clothes beyond the thin ivory sundress she was wearing. No bra. No panties. Just loose soft cotton clinging to her skin, outlining every curve.
She quickly walked out of the kitchen toward the front door, hips swaying, her full, heavy breasts bouncing with each step. From behind, the lower curve of her ass cheeks jiggled beneath the hem of the sundress riding up as she hustled to the door. Her waist curved in noticeably which made the hourglass flare from her big tits to her wide, heart-shaped hips and ass look even more dramatic.
Ashley tossed open the door and placed a hand on her hip, thrust out to one side. Her long, sun-bleached, dirty blonde hair was pulled into a loose, messy knot.
The man standing there was tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered in a simple white t-shirt and khaki’s, the outline of his thick cock easily visible. His skin was a rich, deep brown that caught the sunlight, his face confident yet calm, high cheekbones, close-cropped hair, a short beard framing a mischievous smile.
“Ashley,” he said,
Ashley’s mouth went dry. Caleb. The visiting sculptor from New York who had been in town for a residency.
She had been a nude model since her early twenties, first for college classes, then for private commissions. Painters and sculptors sought her out specifically because of her “classical” curves.
She hadn’t expected to see Caleb again. Certainly not at her home.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice smaller than she intended.
Caleb smiled slowly, the kind of smile that made her nervous. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”
Her brow stiffened. “How did you know where I live?”
He took a step closer, not aggressive, but enough to make the doorway feel smaller. “Michael told me.”
Ashley blinked. “Michael? My husband?”
“Is he here?” Caleb asked.
“He’s sleeping,” Ashley said, “You’ve been talking with Michael?”
“He reached out after the gallery opening.”
Ashley visibly cringed, flashing back to the event. She wore a little black dress that night, sleeveless, low-cut, clinging to every curve, tits spilling out, thighs exposed. The feeling of eyes on her all night had made her wet.
Her husband, Michael, had been across the room, talking to someone about real estate, his long hair pulled into a neat ponytail, pretty oval face lit by the glow of a phone screen. She’d drifted toward the centerpiece, her centerpiece – a depiction of a beautiful woman reclining, torso twisted so her breasts hung full and heavy, belly softly curved, hips wide and inviting.
There she was, exposed for all to see. She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Caleb appeared beside her. He didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, looking at the sculpture, then at her.
“You’re perfect,” he said finally, voice pitched low so only she could hear.
Ashley blushed for real. She felt a pulse between her thighs.
“You did good work,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. His hand found the small of her back in a light, almost professional, but deliberate way.
He guided her toward the next piece, his touch firm through the thin fabric, thumb tracing a slow circle just above her ass. She leaned into him, just enough to feel the heat of his body, and his chest against her arm.
You made it easy,” he murmured. “I wanted to keep you there forever.”
She laughed softly, nervous, aroused.
His fingers slid lower, grazing the top of her ass cheek, then back up. She didn’t pull away. Her pussy was wet, lips swelling under the dress. She shifted her weight, feeling the brush of her own thighs and the faint throbbing of her clit. She knew he could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, and she desperately wanted his hands all over her body.
Across the room, Michael looked up. His eyes found Caleb’s hand on his wife’s ass. He saw the way she was leaning into it, the red hue of arousal covering her cheeks. His face tightened with jealousy, but also something else stirring within.
Michael’s hand dropped to his lap, adjusting himself subtly. Caleb saw the bulge in Michael’s slacks, and the way his eyes stayed locked on Caleb and Ashley, even as he pretended to listen to the person beside him.
Looking back at Michael, Caleb squeezed Ashley’s ass firmly, before returning his hand to a somewhat more suitable position on her lower back.
Ashley instinctively glanced back at her husband, openly staring at them, hand still covering his cock. He didn’t look away. She felt a rush of heat between her legs, pussy clenching, wetness soaking her thighs. She became confused why Michael’s jealousy, his arousal, made her wetter.
Caleb leaned in and whispered. “I think your husband is getting aroused watching me touch you.”
Ashley’s knees weakened. She pressed her thighs together, trying to stop the ache, before pulling away.
Ashley laughed to cover her arousal before Caleb stepped away. Ashley stood there, trembling, pussy dripping, heart pounding. Michael crossed the room, and put his arm around her waist. “Ready to go?”
Ashley nodded, realizing Michael had no intention of commenting on what he had seen.
That night, after Michael fell asleep, she slipped into the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned against the sink. She lifted her nightshirt, fingers sliding between her legs. She rubbed her clit in slow circles, then faster, imagining Caleb’s hand gripping her ass, his thick cock stretching her open while Michael watched from the corner, his pretty face wiped of color, his cock leaking, hand stroking frantically. She came hard, biting her lip to keep quiet, thighs trembling, pussy clenching around her fingers.
She went back to bed. while Michael slept undisturbed, soft, safe, and useless. She curled around him, pressed her breasts against his back, and tried not to think about how much she wanted someone else to take her. She thought about it every night for weeks.
And now, here was Caleb standing at her door, like a special delivery, just for her.
“I think he was a little jealous of what he saw between us. He contacted me through the gallery, and we met up for a drink. He was asking about my artistic process, influences, other bullshit art questions, but then it shifted to asking if I fuck the models who sit for me. I answered honestly and said sometimes, which seemed to excite him.”
“…Sometimes?” Ashley asked. Caleb smiled.
“He asked if I fucked you, which made me laugh out loud, but was also telling. It tells me he worries that you might cheat on him, and that you would keep it a secret from him.”
“I would never cheat on my husband. I love him.”
“I know you love him, it’s not about that. This is about art and sex. Sex and submission is an art. And I’m an artist, and you are my muse. And I told that to your husband. He seemed relieved that I didn’t fuck you, but also excited, in some way.”
Ashley remained silent, looking deeply into Caleb’s eyes.
“Then, after a few whiskeys, and after he got really stoned, things got a little odd. Odd, but not surprising,” Caleb grinned a wolfish grin.
“Odd how?” Ashley asked, taking the bait.
“He asked me how I’d fuck you, if I were to fuck you, and for how long, what positions… and I said I’d have to do all of them, one by one. He laughed but I said I wasn’t kidding. I said I wouldn’t stop until you said a safe word. He got quiet and then apologized, and admitted that he couldn’t satisfy you the way you deserved. I definitely had not asked him to share that.”
Ashley was shocked and had become speechless, both by her husband’s betrayal, and hearing such graphic desires about her, so casually dropped by Caleb.
“He asked if I had advice, as an artist. …Actually….I shouldn’t tell you this part,” Caleb teased. “He started texting me photos right there at the bar. Intimate ones of you sleeping, legs parted, pussy bare. Of you in the shower. Bent over the bed. He told me he cums in seconds, and can’t stay hard long enough to please you properly. He begged me to help him be better. For some fucking reason. I guess because of our chemistry together.”
Ashley’s cheeks burned. Her hand tightened on the doorframe. “You need to leave. Right now.”
Caleb didn’t move. “He told me where you guys lived. Said if I was ever in the area, I should come by. That you’d understand. That maybe… you’d want to talk. Or more.”
Ashley laughed. “More? You think I’d just let you walk in here because my husband sent you dirty pictures and begged for tips on how to fuck me better?”
Caleb’s eyes darkened slightly, but his voice stayed calm, measured. “I think when you posed for me, you felt something when my hands adjusted your hips, when my eyes traced every curve. I think you’ve thought about it since. I think you’ve touched yourself imagining it. And I think you’re angry right now, angry at him, but part of you is curious. Part of you wants to know what happens when a man who already knows your body from every angle finally touches it the way it was meant to be touched.”
Ashley hated that he was right. She hated that she would lie awake after those sessions, fingers between her legs, imagining his hands gripping harder, pulling her hair, bending her over. She’d cum hard thinking of him, guilt twisting with the pleasure, and never told a soul.
“Let me in, Ashley. Let’s wake him up. Let’s see what he says when he sees me standing in his house with his wife looking like she’s ready to be claimed.”
She stared at him, heart hammering, pussy throbbing, anger and desire twisting together until she couldn’t separate them.
Ashley stepped aside, inviting Caleb to enter. The door clicked shut behind him. The house she shared with her husband, their beautiful, quiet sanctuary, suddenly felt like it belonged to someone else.
Master Bedroom
Ashley led the way up the stairs, her dress riding up with each step, the hem teasing the lower curves of her ass cheeks. Caleb followed close behind, his presence a steady pressure at her back.
Michael slept naked in bed. Ashley didn’t bother waking him up first before she entered with Caleb. There was a femininity to the graceful arch of his back as he slept, his big round bubble ass lifted just enough to catch the sunlight from the windows, long slender, hairless, curvy legs splayed, full lips parted and long thick hair fanned across the pillow.
Caleb stopped at the foot of the bed, as his gaze lingered. “Well, damn,” he murmured. He’d seen Michael clothed before, but Michael in the nude revealed a much different story.
“Did not expect that.” His eyes traced the smooth, thick curve of Michael’s ass cheeks, thick hips, thighs and soft stomach.
Ashley looked down at her sleeping husband. His delicate features annoyed her.
“Wake him up,” she said.
Caleb grinned, slow, predatory, and reached down. He grabbed Michael’s left ass cheek in a firm grip and jiggled it hard. The flesh rippled under his palm. Caleb’s cock jumped visibly in his pants.
“Look at that ass…” he muttered, almost reverent.
He pulled his hand back and delivered a sharp, ringing spank, CRACK!, a perfect red handprint blooming instantly on pale skin.
Michael’s body jerked awake. “What the hell?”
“Meet your ‘advisor,’” she said. “The artist you’ve been secretly messaging about our sex life. Asking for tips. Sending him photos of me, photos I only let you take because I trusted you.”
Michael’s face drained of color. He yanked at the sheet, trying to cover himself, but Caleb pulled it far from the bed.
“Advisor? I don’t, I don’t know what you’re talking about, ”
“Don’t lie,” she snapped. “He has the photos. He has our address.”
Michael’s voice cracked, high and frantic. “I swear, Ash, I never sent anything. I don’t even know how he got our address. Tell her, dude!!” Michael shrieked at Caleb. “He contacted me and asked me to meet him at the bar for drinks. That’s it.”
“He’s not lying,” Caleb finally spoke. Then, after a beat, he revealed his manipulation. He looked deeply into Ashley’s eyes.
“I needed to have you, and when I felt our chemistry, and when I saw Michael’s reaction, or non-reaction, to seeing us together at the opening, I knew I could have you. I found Michael’s email address online and messaged him, saying I’d like to get a drink and talk about his wife. He immediately wrote back and said yes. We met at Ironhorse next to the studio. When he went to the bathroom he left his phone unlocked on the table. I wondered if it was on purpose. I looked, easily found the folder labeled Ash, sent the best shots to myself, and deleted the thread. I got your address from the registration info from the gallery show. And now I’m here. It’s not rocket science.”
Ashley’s stomach dropped.
“I fucking need you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So I planned. I befriended Michael. I complimented your body right in front of him, I watched how insecure it made him.”
Ashley looked to Michael. “Do you have anything to say? Or are you just going to sit there squeezing your dick??” She chided him. Michael was left without words, now kneeling on the bed, hands covering his cock, wide eyes fixed on Caleb and Ashley.
“I want to turn you into my personal whore, Ashley,” Caleb told her directly. “And I want to turn your pretty husband into the ultimate humiliated cuck who watches, cleans, and maybe even begs to be used himself. It’s art. Performance. Documentation. And deep down, you both want it. Call it artistic intuition.”
Ashley’s heart pounded against her ribs. Michael was trembling, cock still traitorously hard and leaking. Kneeling naked on the bed, his long, flexible yoga body folded in half.
“You lied,” she whispered to Caleb. “You manipulated us.”
“I did.” He said it like it was a fact, not a confession. “But only to start the conversation you’ve both been avoiding for years.”
Ashley felt something thrilling, terrifying and honest rise in her chest.
Caleb stepped closer to her and whispered. Michael could see the whisper happen, but couldn’t hear it. The exclusion hit him first as panic, then as something worse.
Caleb’s mouth hovered near Ashley’s ear. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured.
Ashley looked at Michael, then directly into Caleb’s eyes. “You can do whatever you want to me,” She said, loud enough for her husband to hear.
Michael made a fearful exhale, like a small, broken noise. He looked sick with fear, and alive with it too, like his nervous system had been electrified.
Caleb put his big hand on Ashley’s waist and turned her slightly, guiding her into a deliberate placement on display. Ashley did not resist, letting herself be angled so Michael could see her.
From behind, Caleb lifted his hand to her jaw, thumb pressing at the hinge, tilting her chin the way a man does when he expects obedience and receives it. He turned her head to kiss her.
Ashley moaned against his mouth as his tongue entered. Caleb kissed her more deeply, roughly. Michael stared, frozen. His eyes went glassy. He looked like he couldn’t breathe but couldn’t look away.
Ashley broke the kiss and inhaled. She looked at Michael again. He was trembling with not only fear but also arousal, panic, and humiliation.
Caleb began to grope her beneath her sundress while she watched Michael watch. He was clutching the base of his cock, squeezing desperately to keep from spilling.
Ashley’s voice was cold as she spoke to him.
“Answer me honestly,” she said, while Caleb groped her big tits beneath her sundress. “Did you get yourself off thinking about other men with me?”
Michael didn’t hesitate.
“Yes,” he whispered, voice raw and ashamed and eager all at once.
Caleb’s thumb dragged slow, deliberate circles over her nipple before pinching it hard, sharp enough to pull a fresh gasp from her, then soothing the sting with a slow, flat stroke of his palm.
Ashley held his gaze while Caleb’s strong hands never stopped moving. locked around the heavy swell of her breasts.
“Is this what you want?” Ashley asked, her voice quivering from arousal.
Michael whimpered and squeezed his balls harder.
Caleb pulled her back against his thick hard cock inside his khaki’s so she could feel how desperately he needed her. He pressed his steel into her, then slid his fingers down her belly, shoving her soaked panties aside and pressing two thick long fingers between her wet lips. With deep, slow circular movements he stretched her open while his thumb found her clit and settled into firm, relentless circles.
Ashley’s thighs shook. Her breath came in heavy, uneven pants with moans slipping out between every word she tried to force past her lips.
“Michael…” She locked eyes with him again, voice trembling, wrecked. “Michael??” She knew he wouldn’t stop Caleb and she didn’t want him to, but she enjoyed driving the point home to humiliate him.
Caleb’s fingers curled inside her, stroking with slow, firm drags that made her hips jerk forward.
“Michael, It feels soooo good. Are you… are you going to let him keep going? Or…” Ashley’s voice cracked into a low moan as Caleb added a slight twist to his fingers, scissoring them just enough to stretch her wider. “—are you going to stop him?”
Caleb, pressing his hard cock against her from behind, continued to finger her pussy and squeeze her left tit beneath her sundress.
“I…” Michael’s voice was barely audible. “I… I can’t…”
Ashley’s head tipped back against Caleb’s shoulder as another slow, deep thrust of Caleb’s fingers punched a whimper out of her. Her free hand reached back, nails digging into Caleb’s forearm where she held on for balance.
“Do you like it?” she gasped, hips grinding shamelessly down onto Caleb’s hand now.
Wet sounds filled the room, obscene and rhythmic.
“Watching him… touch me like this… groping me… fingering me… making me shake… Do you like it, Michael?” Ashley moaned. Michael had never seen his wife like this. “Because I love it. I love it. I love it. Oh my God… Don’t stop, don’t stop, please…”
His whole body was trembling. He wanted to stand up. He wanted to be the man who stormed across the room and pulled her away. He wanted to roar, to claim, to stop this.
But he didn’t move, he just squeezed harder, fingers digging into his own cock and balls with punishing force, trying to choke off the orgasm clawing up his spine. His breathing came in short, shamed bursts. Another thick bead of pre-cum welled at his tip and dripped down over his fist.“
Yes,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Yes. I like it.”
Ashley moaned, long, low, helpless, as Caleb’s thumb pressed harder on her clit, circling faster while his fingers kept that slow, deep rhythm inside her.
“Then watch,” she panted, eyes glassy, locked on his.
Caleb’s mouth found her ear, voice a low growl of satisfaction. “That’s it. Let him see how wet you get when he admits it.”
Ashley’s thighs clamped around Caleb’s wrist. Her back bowed hard. A raw, shuddering cry tore out as her orgasm crashed through her around his fingers, wetness flooding his hand in hot, rhythmic waves. She kept rocking through it with small, desperate jerks of her hips, moaning Michael’s name like an accusation.
When the aftershocks finally left her trembling, she fell back against Caleb’s chest, breathless, skin flushed. Michael was still frozen in place, hand locked around himself, cock throbbing visibly, paralyzed by the war inside him.
Caleb’s fingers stayed buried deep inside of Ashley, his thumb resting lightly over her oversensitive clit, ready to start again whenever she wanted.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Michael said to Ashley.
“You won’t lose her,” Caleb said. “This will make her happy. She’ll glow. She’ll finally get what she’s been missing. I don’t want to be her husband. I don’t want your errands and your routines. I just want to make her feel it, again and again, while you watch and learn your place.”
Ashley turned to face Caleb, away from Michael. Her hand reached out and closed around the massive bulge in Caleb’s khakis. She squeezed. His cock jumped and swelled instantly under her grip.
He pulled his cock out in one motion. The shaft sprang free, heavy, dark, intimidating. Nine inches, veins thick and raised, head already glossy. She wrapped both hands around it, but her fingers still didn’t meet around the girth. She squeezed as hard as she could, and Caleb hissed through his teeth and thrust lazily into her hands around his cock, growing harder until the head was leaking steadily.
Michael’s voice came out small and wrecked from the bed.
“Suck it? Will you suck him? Please…?” He asked his wife.
Ashley ignored him completely.
She traced the underside with her thumb, feeling every ridge, every pulsing vein.
His balls hung low and full against her wrist, and she dropped to her knees and put her tongue all over them before choking on his cock. She continued to suck his dick until she realized she hadn’t taken a breath in almost a minute. When she finally inhaled, the scent of him, musky, masculine, salty pre-cum, hit her like a drug.
She looked up at Caleb. His eyes were half-open, lips parted, watching her with that same calm, predatory patience.
“Feel that, my little slut?” he murmured. “That’s what you’ve been missing. That’s what your body’s been begging for.”
Ashley moaned, soft, involuntary, when he called her a slut. Her fingers tightened and she sucked him some more, drooling freely while Caleb fucked her face.
Ashley pulled away and looked over at Michael. He had slid off the bed and was now kneeling on the floor a few feet away, long hair messy, cock leaking steadily onto his thigh, eyes wide and glassy with shock, shame, and raw, helpless arousal.
“Show him,” Ashley said, looking up through tears to Caleb.
Caleb smiled and stepped toward Michael, kneeling on the floor a few feet away. He took Michael by the back of the head, gathered his thick hair in his fist, and slapped Michaels’ face with his cock.
“Harder,” Ashley commanded.
Caleb put his finger, then another, into Michael’s open mouth. He finger fucked his mouth for a few seconds before inserting his dick into his mouth. “Suck it, Michael.”
Caleb’s grip tightened in Michael’s hair, yanking his head back just enough to make his throat open wider. He drove forward again, deeper this time, until Michael’s nose was buried in the coarse hair at the base of his cock.
“Good boy. You suck dick good. You’re a natural sissy,” Caleb said, as Michael happily choked and gurgled.
Ashley remained in the corner of the master bedroom watching, one hand braced against the wall, the other shoved between her thighs, rubbing slow, desperate circles over her soaked panties. Her sundress was still bunched around her waist, breasts bare, nipples tight and dark.
She watched every brutal inch disappear into her husband’s mouth, eyes glassy, lips parted, breathing in shallow pants. She was taken by surprise by how much she enjoyed seeing her pretty husband sucking cock.
“Look at me,” Caleb instructed, waiting for eye contact while Michael choked on his dick. “’m going to cum in your mouth so I can fuck Ashley longer and harder tonight. Just swallow. Understand? Here we go.”
Ashley watched from the corner, thighs pressed tight together, fingers working slow, torturous circles over her soaked panties. Her breath hitched every time Michael whimpered.
Caleb picked up the pace, short, brutal thrusts now, fucking Michael’s face with real intent. The slap of his heavy balls against Michael’s chin filled the room. Michael’s small hands fluttered uselessly at Caleb’s thighs, then dropped to brace himself on the floor.
Caleb made a deep groan as he filled Michael’s mouth with cum, his cock throbbing with each strong pulse.
Michael’s whole body seized. His hips bucked forward and a pitiful, broken cry muffled around Caleb’s cock as his dick twitched and spurted. Ropes of cum shot onto the floor beneath him. He hadn’t touched himself but just couldn’t stop it.
Caleb pulled out with a wet pop, strings of spit and pre-cum connecting Michael’s gasping mouth to the glistening head. Michael coughed, sucking in air, face crimson, tears streaming, cock still twitching and dripping the last of his release onto the hardwood. Caleb stared down at the mess, then at Michael’s wrecked, guilty expression.
Caleb pointed at the puddled cum on the floor. “Clean it with your tongue. Every fucking drop. Right now.”
Michael dropped to all fours without hesitation, head lowered, lapping at his own spend with small, humiliated whimpers. Ashley’s breath got louder as she rubbed herself harder, thighs trembling.
After the floor was spotless, Caleb grabbed Michael by the hair and yanked his face up.
“Apologize to your wife,” he ordered. “Tell her you’re sorry for being such a weak, quick little slut who can’t control himself.”
Michael’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Ashley… I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop it.”
Caleb let go of Michael’s hair with a rough shove, then tucked himself back into his jeans, still hard, the bulge obscene.
“I’m going out,” Caleb said, voice still edged with irritation. “Need to cool off before I come back and ruin her properly. Two hours. French restaurant downtown. You-” he jabbed a finger at Michael “-are going to get her ready. Pick something slutty. Short. Tight. No bra. No panties. Make it obvious she’s dressed to get fucked tonight.”
Caleb turned and walked out. The door clicked shut.
Silence settled, thick and heavy. Michael stayed on his knees a moment longer, breathing ragged, staring at the empty doorway. He stood and approached Ashley, eyes shining with shame and worship. She stepped past him toward the bedroom, hips swaying, voice soft but firm.
“Come on. Help me get ready. And keep your hands where I can see them.”
Ashley straightened slowly, letting the sundress fall back into place, but not before Michael got another long, aching look at her, the wet spot darkening the front of her panties.
In the bathroom, Ashley stood before the full-length mirror, peeling off her sundress, her dramatic voluptuous form glowing under the lights.
Caleb reentered the room, his presence immediately changing the room. He carried a little box.
“Before we go,” he said, voice low and commanding, “your husband needs a reminder of his place.”
Michael froze, his tall frame shrinking inward, long hair falling over his shoulders as he bowed his head.
Caleb opened the box, revealing a cage for Michael’s dick. Michael was a grower not a shower, and his limp dick was easily compacted into nearly nothing with enough force.
Caleb grabbed Michael by the balls and expertly applied the cage. “There we go.” He said, giving Michael a very hard tap on the balls.
Ashley watched, arousal coiling in her belly, as Caleb stepped back.
“Now finish getting her ready,” he said, before once again leaving the bedroom.
Ashley turned sideways in the mirror, arching her back to admire how the g string accentuated her curves. The betrayal from earlier still simmered in her chest, along with Michael’s constant insecurity, and his jealousy-fueled fantasies.
Michael hovered in the doorway, his cock, smashed into the cage, clutching the first outfit he’d selected: a modest black cocktail dress, knee-length, with a high neckline.
Ashley glanced at it in the mirror and scoffed. “No. Too safe. Too… you. Try again.”
He disappeared into the closet, and returned with a red wrap dress, still conservative, mid-thigh, but with a deeper V-neck.
She didn’t even touch it. “Discard. Boring.”
She stepped closer and lifted her foot, pressing against his red, aching balls, gently at first, then harder, smashing them and pushing Michael backward. He gasped, knees buckling, standing upright, pinned against the wall. The denial sent a thrill through her; humiliating him like this, watching him squirm, made her clit throb under the g string. “Kneel. And spread your legs.”
He dropped to his knees instantly, wincing as her foot ground down, the pain mixing with pleasure in his glassy eyes. “Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you love this.”
“I love you so much, Ash. You’re everything. I love your sexy foot on my balls.”
She lifted her foot away, leaving him panting, then turned back to the mirror, spritzing perfume along her inner thighs. “Try again. And if you fuck it up this time, I’ll make you watch from the closet tonight.”
He scrambled back to the closet, returning with an emerald green dress, slinky, low-cut front that would barely contain her breasts, hem so short it would ride up with every step, no back to speak of. It was revealing, obscene for her curvy body type, designed to hug every jiggle and curve. She had ordered online years ago as a possible NYE outfit, but had never worn it.
She stepped into it, shimmying the fabric up over her hips. The satin clung immediately, molding to every curve, the neckline plunging so low it barely contained her breasts. The slit parted with every movement, exposing the full length of one thigh.
“Zip me,” she said.
Michael moved behind her, fingers fumbling with the tiny zipper. His breath was hot on her neck. His cock cage brushed against her ass cheek as he worked, smearing pre-cum leaking across her skin. When the zipper reached the top, he didn’t step away. His hands slid down her sides, reverent, shaking.
She turned to face him, breasts straining against the satin, nipples clearly outlined.
“Tonight, Caleb is going to fuck me in every position possible. And you’re going to watch, if you’re lucky. You’re going to see him make me cum over and over until I can’t speak, except to beg him for more. He’s going to toss me around and fuck me in ways you never could. And when he’s done, you’re going to lick his cum out of me.”
She kissed him once, soft, loving, then pulled back.
“Get dressed. Something nice. You’re driving me to my date.” He nodded, eyes glassy with fear and lust. As he moved to the closet, Ashley looked at herself in the mirror, emerald dress hugging every curve, hair cascading, lips swollen, eyes bright with something new and dangerous. She smiled.
Inside Ciel d’Azur, the light was low, candle flames flickering in hurricane glass, walls the color of old parchment. Low jazz drifted from hidden speakers, bass notes vibrating through the floorboards and up Ashley’s bare legs. She walked in ahead of the two men.
Heads turned as she passed tables. Not polite glances, lingering stares from horny husbands and pissed-off skinny wives. A man in a charcoal blazer paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes tracking the sway of her hips, the way her ass filled the dress, shifting left-right with each step. A woman at the bar looked furious and rolled her eyes.
Ashley felt the weight of every gaze slide over her: the heavy bounce of her breasts, the deep cleavage framed by the scooped neck, the way the dress stretched taut across her belly curve and clung to the wide flare of her hips. She didn’t smile or acknowledge it. She simply walked, letting the dress do its work, letting the room register what she carried beneath the fabric, lush, abundant flesh that had been desired since men first learned what desire felt like.
She wondered if this was a mistake. She felt naked, humiliated in ways, embarrassed, and yet, being with Calbe made her feel validated. All three of them couldn’t really focus on dinner, despite the lovely decor and service. Nobody said a word all night, aside from directions to the servers. The point was to put Ashley on display before the main event, when they returned to the house for Caleb to claim his prize.
Ashley sat between them in the curved leather booth when the food arrived, back straight, chin up. Caleb sat on her left, arm along the back of the booth. His fingers rested on the bare skin at her neck. His thumb traced slow circles. Now and then his hand drifted lower, fingertips grazing the top of her breast through the dress.
Michael sat on her right, back stiff, hands folded tight in his lap. One knee bounced under the table, while his slacks showed a clear bulge of the cage. A small wet spot darkened the front near the tip.
Ashley turned to her husband. “Michael,” she said quietly. Her hand slid under the table to his thigh. She felt him shake. Her fingers moved higher until they felt the cage in his slacks. His hips jerked forward into her palm.
“Do you like seeing me like this?” she whispered. “Dressed for him. Touched by him. Shown off to the room while you sit here leaking? I feel like such a slut.”
Michael’s mouth opened. A small, broken sound came out. His cock twitched in the cage, while his ass pulsed around the plug inside.
“Yes,” he breathed, voice barely there.
Ashley smacked Michael’s cage hard and shook it roughly through his slacks.
“Then tonight you’ll sit where he says. Hands off yourself. You’ll thank him every time I cum.”
Caleb’s fingers tightened slightly on her neck. The check came. Ashley pulled her hand away from the cage.
“Okay then,” She said. “Here we go.”
She smoothed her dress slowly over her thighs, letting the silk ride up just enough to show bare skin. Then she stood, the neckline dipped for a second, flashing soft pale undersides.
They walked out, Ashley in the middle, between the man who owned her body now and the man who had asked him to take it.
Home
The front door closed behind them with a definitive click. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioning and the faint trickle of the pool fountain through the open patio doors. Ashley’s heels had barely entered the house before Caleb caught her by the waist and spun her against the wall.
His mouth was on hers before she could speak, deep, possessive, tongue sliding in claiming every corner like he was marking territory. Ashley groaned into the kiss, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. He tasted of Bordeaux and salt, of the oysters he’d fed her from his fork while Michael watched from across the table.
Caleb’s hands were everywhere, cupping her heavy breasts through the emerald dress, thumbs circling her nipples until they ached, then sliding down to grip her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp against his lips. He lifted the hem, fingers finding bare skin, then the soaked g string, tugging it aside to stroke her swollen clit.
She broke the kiss long enough to pant, “Upstairs, now.”
Caleb smiled against her mouth. “Right here.”
He turned his head toward the hallway. “Michael.”
Michael stood frozen. The faint outline of the steel cage was visible beneath the fabric, a cruel little bulge that hadn’t softened all night.
“Strip,” Caleb said, voice calm but final. “Everything off. No touching yourself.”
Michael’s hands shook as he unbuttoned the shirt, peeled it away, then pushed the slacks down. The cage gleamed under the hallway light, a thin string of pre-cum already glistening at the tip. He stepped out of his shoes, socks, underwear until he stood naked, slender body trembling, pretty face scarlet.
“Good boy,” Caleb murmured. “Now go make us drinks. Scotch for me, neat. Red for her. Bring them to the living room. Don’t be long.”
Michael nodded once, silent, obedient, and disappeared down the hall.
Caleb turned back to Ashley, backing her into the living room, toward the sectional. He sat, legs spread, and pulled her between them. The emerald dress rode up as she sank to her knees. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and freed himself, nine thick, dark inches springing out, already hard, veins ridged, head glossy.
She leaned in, lips parting, tongue flicking out to taste the bead of pre-cum. Then she took him in, slow at first, savoring the stretch of her jaw, the weight on her tongue, then deeper, hollowing her cheeks, moaning around him. Caleb groaned low, one hand tangling in her hair, guiding but not forcing. She worked him like she’d been starving for it, saliva down the shaft and dripping further down his balls.
Michael returned with the drinks on a small tray, two glasses, ice clinking softly. He stopped at the entryway, eyes wide, body trembling. Ashley’s head was bobbing steadily, wet sounds filling the room.
Caleb motioned him over while getting his dick sucked, took the scotch without breaking rhythm, sipped once, then set the glass on the side table.
“She’s busy right now,” he said mildly. “Stand there. Watch.”
Michael obeyed, naked and caged, hands at his sides, cock straining uselessly against steel. He stared transfixed as Ashley sucked Caleb like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.
After several long minutes, Ashley pulled off, lips swollen, chin soaked. She looked up at Caleb, eyes glassy.
“I need to freshen up,” Ashley murmured, looking destroyed, her voice hoarse from the deep throating.
She rose slowly from her knees, the emerald dress stuck into place gathered above her curves, her exposed thighs damp where her arousal had leaked during the act. She tried to smooth it down with shaky hands.
“Fuck it,” she said, turning toward Michael, still standing with the tray, shaking, naked and caged. “You boys play nice.”
She softly walked down the hallway, fading into the quiet hum of the house. The door to the large bathroom closed with a gentle snick, leaving the living room suspended in sudden, charged silence.
Caleb leaned back against the sectional, one arm draped casually over the back, and took another sip of scotch. The ice clinked softly in the glass.
Then he looked at Michael, really looked, his dark eyes steady, appraising, like an artist studying a new medium.
Michael stood there, tray still balanced in his shaking hands, Ashley’s red wine untouched. The overhead light accentuated the curves of his long legs and thick round ass. His full lips parted in shallow breaths, long hair escaping the ponytail to frame his face. The cage gleamed between his legs, his small cock straining pitifully, a steady drip of pre-cum dripping out.
“Come here,” Caleb said, voice low and even.
Michael hesitated but then stepped forward on unsteady legs, setting the tray on the coffee table. He stopped just in front of Caleb.
Caleb studied him longer, his soft stomach, the thickness around his hips, the long hair that begged to be gripped, his pretty face that could have been a woman’s in a softer light.
“You want this, don’t you?” Caleb asked. “Not just to watch. You want to be taken. Filled. Used. Like the little sissy bitch you are.”
Michael tried to look away, but Caleb’s grip held him steady. Finally, he nodded once, his lips quivering.
“Say it,” Caleb commanded, thumb pressing just a little harder.
“I… I want it,” Michael whispered, voice cracking high and fragile. “I want… to be your bitch.”
“Good,” he murmured, satisfaction curling through the word. “Because Ashley’s my slut. And you’re my bitch. Understand?”
“Yes… sir,” Michael breathed, the words tumbling out in a rush, his body sagging slightly in surrender, the cage between his legs twitching visibly.
“Turn around,” he said. “Ass to me.”
Michael turned slowly, trembling. Caleb leaned forward, hands sliding up the backs of Michael’s thighs with deliberate slowness, thumbs tracing the smooth, soft, pale skin.
He spread Michael open gently at first, exposing his tight hole.
Caleb’s tongue circled the tight ring before pushing inside.
Michael cried out, his body naturally arching back, ass up and open further into Caleb’s face as his tongue delved deeper, licking and probing. His deep, swirling thrusts made Michael’s legs shake, his small caged cock leaking in thick, steady strings now, pooling on the floor beneath him.
One hand slid forward, reaching around to cup Michael’s caged balls, squeezing hard, rolling them in his palm until Michael whimpered, hips rocking back despite himself, pushing against Caleb’s face. The pain twisted with pleasure, sharp and unrelenting, Caleb’s grip unrelenting, milking every broken sound from Michael’s throat.
The hallway door opened with a soft creak.
She froze in the doorway, eyes wide, a gasp catching in her throat as she took in the scene: Caleb’s face buried between her husband’s cheeks, Michael’s body arched and shaking, small caged cock leaking steadily, his pretty face contorted in a mix of agony and ecstasy.
Shock hit her first, a cold jolt that rooted her in place, but then arousal followed. The way Michael’s thighs trembled, the wet sounds of Caleb’s tongue, the raw vulnerability of it all, it twisted something deep inside her, making her clit throb, her nipples tighten further.
Caleb pulled back just enough to speak, his lips shiny with saliva, breath hot against Michael’s skin.
“Good bitch,” he said, voice rough with satisfaction, giving Michael’s ass a final hard squeeze that made the flesh dimple under his fingers.
The cage had fallen off. Michael’s cock was hard, leaking steadily.
Caleb stood, arms crossed.
“Michael, turn around and face your wife. Show her your hard, useless, dripping cock.”
Michael turned to Ashley and presented his hard, aching cock, leaking a thin string of pre-cum. Balls tight beneath it.
Caleb stood next to Michael, his thick cock heavy and semi-hard, thick as Ashley’s wrist. It hung there, swaying slightly, balls heavy and low. The contrast was immediate, obscene, Michael’s prick next to Caleb’s massive shaft.
Ashley stared, pussy clenching, fresh wetness trickling down her thigh.
“Feel them,” Caleb said calmly. “Describe the differences. Critique them. Then choose which one fucks you from now on.”
Ashley’s heart pounded. She stepped to Michael first, wrapping her hand around his cock. It was warm, thin, fitting easily in her palm, shaft barely filling her grip. She squeezed gently; he moaned, hips bucking, pre-cum oozing onto her fingers.
“This is yours,” she said to him, voice low and edged. “It feels kinda… thin, I can easily get my hand around it. Not very thick. Hard and eager like a teenager’s dick. It cums too fast. Can’t reach where I need it. It’s cute, but useless.”
She released him, turned to Caleb. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, or tried to. Fingers didn’t meet around the girth. It pulsed warmly in her grip, thickening as blood rushed in, lengthening to nearly ten inches. Veins ridged under her palm, head flaring, pre-cum beading at the slit.
She stroked slowly; it grew harder, heavier, skin smooth and hot.
“This,” she said, voice breathy with anger and desire, “is a real cock. Thick. Long. Heavy. It would stretch me open, fill me completely. Make me cum so hard I’d scream.”
“This… this is what I’ve been missing. This is what I need.”
Ashley looked at Michael. “You choose,” she said. “Tell me which one fucks me from now on. Which would you choose for me?”
Michael’s voice was broken, barely a whisper.
“Caleb.”
“Louder.”
“Caleb,” he said.
Ashley smiled.
“Good boy. Go sit in your chair. You can watch. Does that make you happy?”
“Yes. Thanks,” Michael stumbled away on legs that barely held him, collapsing into the armchair
Caleb crossed to Ashley in three long strides, grabbed her by the waist, and tossed her onto the sectional like she weighed nothing. Her voluptuous body landed on her back with a soft thud, legs splaying wide, g string soaked and askew, exposing her glistening pussy.
Caleb sat and pulled Ashley face down over his knees, her breasts flattened against the couch, ass up over his waist in traditional spanking position. Her thighs spread, cheeks parted slightly, wet, puffy pussy lips dripping slowly down the inside of her thigh.
Caleb’s palm cracked against her right cheek. The sound was sharp, hard, causing Ashley to jiggle all over. He struck again, harder. Red spread across the pale skin. Ashley screamed and gasped, back arching, breasts grinding and sliding against the couch as she writhed in pleasure. Another slap. Then another. Each one making ripples across her ass and down her thighs.
Ashley moaned, her ass up, thighs spread, wet pussy leaving glistening trails dripping over his lap. Caleb paused, smoothed a rough hand over the burning curves of her ass, admiring the handprints. He then pressed one palm firmly to the small of her back, and two thick fingers plunged inside her without warning. He fucked her hard, fast.
“Is this what you need?”
“Yes!” The word tore out of her as her whole body convulsed, head to toes vibrating, thighs shaking, a sharp, shuddering orgasm ripping through her.
Before she could catch her breath, Caleb fisted her hair and hauled her upright, positioning her on top of him, spread across the wide leather couch. He wanted every lush inch of her on obscene display.
Her bare pussy hovered just above his thick cock, lips swollen, glistening from the spanking. Caleb gripped her hips, fingers sinking deep into soft flesh, pulling her down over his dick.
Ashley sank slowly at first, her tight pussy stretching painfully around him. No words, just a strained whimper, eyes shut and her lips parted wide. Her thighs trembled as her nails clawed into Caleb’s shoulders, trying to push herself lower, taking him inch by inch.
“Mmmmmmm uuunnnggggg fuuuuuck yesssssssss…” She moaned.
Caleb bottomed out with one final upward snap. Ashley gasped, head tipping back, mouth falling open on a broken, silent moan.
Caleb thrust hard again, driving so deep her whole body jolted. Again and again, into a pounding rhythm. Her tits bounced wildly, heavy flesh slapping together, nipples creating wide circular arcs in a display of pure sex. The soft flesh around her hips and thighs rippled with every thrust while her ass cheeks jiggled against his thighs each time he buried himself inside of her.
Her hands braced herself on his chest as she panted, her voice cracking. “Deeper, harder, please… don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop.” She begged, even though it wasn’t necessary.
Caleb gave it to her in short hard thrusts upward while she straddled him. Her face twisted: eyes glassy, mouth wide, cheeks flushed dark rose.
She struggled and screamed every time he hammered.“Like that?” One hand around her breast, squeezing until flesh bulged between his fingers. The other clamped the plush swell of her hip, holding her exactly where he wanted so he could watch every jiggle, every ripple.
“Yes—fuck—yes—” She rocked down frantically, grinding her clit against his hips on every downstroke.
In the corner, Michael sat frozen in the low armchair, caged cock throbbing, leaking steadily onto the seat. Every bounce of Ashley’s tits, every desperate cry, every wet squelch of her soaked cunt taking Caleb’s thick length struck him like a physical blow.
Caleb glanced over. “Tell him.” He thrust harder. “Tell your husband how good my cock feels.”
Ashley’s voice came out wrecked, trembling between moans. “It’s—so fucking big—Michael—”
Her thighs clamped around Caleb’s hips. A raw scream tore from her throat as she came hard, her pussy pulsing and fluttering in frantic waves. Wetness flooded down his shaft, soaking his balls. Her whole body shook.
Caleb flipped her onto her back in one possessive sweep, hooking her thick thighs over his shoulders and folding her nearly in half. Legs splayed wide, knees near her chest, every slick inch exposed.
Her soft, fleshy belly compressed into gentle rolls, quivering with each heaving breath.
Her heavy tits spilled outward, swaying as she settled.
He drove in with one deep, merciless stroke that buried him completely. Ashley’s back arched off the leather, a sharp, wordless cry ripping free. Her pussy clenched hard around him, still fluttering from the last climax.
“Fuck—yesss!!!” she screamed, taking it deeper than ever before. Her hands gripped the backs of her own thighs, holding herself open like an offering. Caleb braced one palm beside her head, the other sinking into the plush swell of her hip.
He delivered long strokes, almost all the way out, then slamming home. Caleb was about to burst watching her tits bouncing toward her face, belly rippled, and her ass lifted slightly off the cushion with each impact.
Ashley’s eyes were closed, mouth slack in endless moans, cheeks crimson.
“Harder—please—deeper—don’t stop—” she begged.
He pistoned faster, sharper. Wet slaps echoed louder. Her pussy gaped briefly each withdrawal, then swallowed him again in brutal strokes that shook her entire body.
Ashley’s eyes were closed, mouth slack in endless silent moans, cheeks red. Her thighs trembled violently around his shoulders.
“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum again—” Her pussy clamped down hard, pulsing in rhythmic spasms. Fresh wetness gushed, soaking his shaft, dripping to his balls and the couch.
Caleb slowed only enough to grind through the aftershocks.
“Face down, ass up.” A hard spank punctuated the order. He pulled out slowly, making her whimper at the emptiness, gripped her hips and flipped her like she weighed nothing. Her face dropped flat to the cushion, tits squashed beneath her, soft belly pressed flat, cheek pressed to cool leather, arms splayed out front.
Ashley’s knees slid apart on instinct while her soaked ass lifted up fully into position. Her thighs quivered, threatening to buckle.
Caleb knelt behind her, taking her firmly by the hair, another hand on her hip. He thrust in hard, crashing his hips into her ass, providing a sharp jolt to ripple through her cheeks.
He was about to explode, and knew he couldn’t last much longer. Caleb pounded with fast, steady rhythm, his eyes fixed on Ashley’s ass jiggling, thighs trembling, soft belly and tits bouncing helplessly. He pulled her back by her arms and continued.
Wet slaps filled the room. Moans turned higher, and more desperate.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” Caleb said, for the first time sounding a little broken, frustrated within his overwhelming arousal. “You fucking slut, don’t make me cum yet,” He ordered her. “Don’t make me cum yet, you fucking slut.”
Ashley laughed with the last ounce of energy had, gleefully thrilled by the dirty talk and buzzing from so many orgasms.
“You fucking Slut,” Caleb barked. “God damn it,” He fucked hard as his rhythm broke. The sight of her completely ruined, face down, ass up, soft belly flat, tits squashed, pussy gaping and dripping around him, snapped his control.
“Fuck—Ashley—” One last brutal thrust. His cock pulsed violently. Thick, hot ropes jetted deep inside her, flooding her in heavy spurts. Ashley gave a weak, shattered moan, too drained to scream. Again, she laughed in a giddy type of way.
Cum overflowed instantly, creamy rivulets leaking around his shaft, dripping down swollen lips, pooling on leather couch. He ground slowly, emptying completely, then pulled out with deliberate slowness.
Her pussy gaped open, pink and wrecked, thick white cum oozing steadily, trailing down her thighs. Ashley didn’t move. She couldn’t. She remained, face down, ass tilted, limbs exhausted.
Caleb looked at Michael, still frozen, caged cock straining, tears streaming, pre-cum dripping.
“Get over here. Clean her up.”
Michael didn’t hesitate to crawl over to Ashley, and stopped between her spread thighs, her ass still high, pussy gaping, leaking cum in slow pulses.
Michael leaned in, and began lapping creamy trails from her gaping pussy. Ashley whimpered faintly, oversensitive, but didn’t pull away. His licks grew hungrier: sucking her red, fat, swollen lips, his tongue dipping inside to scoop thick loads. Wet slurps filled the room, his face pressed deeper, his nose brushing clit, his cheeks smeared with cum.
Caleb watched a moment, then stepped behind Michael, kneeling down behind him while he was bent over, cleaning cum from Ashley.
“Keep going,” he said, as he gripped Michael’s hip and guided his still-hard, slick cock to Michael’s tight ass.
Michael gasped against Ashley’s pussy, body locking, then shuddering as Caleb began thrusting slowly, then harder, deeper. Each snap drove Michael’s face harder into her leaking cunt, forcing his tongue deeper, making him lap frantically while getting fucked.
Ashley’s exhausted whimpers mingled with Michael’s muffled moans and wet slaps against his ass cheeks. Caleb squeezed Michael’s hips, pulling him back onto every thrust until he came again, this time inside of Ashley’s husband.
Without a word, Caleb pulled his aching dick from Michael’s widened ass, thunked it on his cheek a few times to clear the extra cum.
“Michael, you may sleep with Ashley in the guest room tonight. I’m taking the master bedroom.”
Caleb spanked Michael hard on the ass, his cum still trickling out. “Good job, bitch.”
He kissed Ashley deeply on the mouth before heading upstairs.
“Good night, slut.”
