Upstairs, the hallway lights were dim, but the sound of giggles carried easily down the corridor.
Hannah and Diana walked side by side, wrapped in towels, flushed from steam and satisfaction. Their eyes sparkled with mischief, and every brush of skin-to-skin contact sent shivers up their spines.
Hannah bumped Diana with her hip, grinning. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
Diana laughed, warm and breathless. “You started it.”
As they passed the stairwell, a sharp moan echoed from below—followed by a scream of Poppy’s voice.
“Jacob! Oh my god!”
They both froze. Hannah blinked, then burst into laughter, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Finally,” she whispered, eyes wide with delight. “Took her long enough.”
Diana’s jaw dropped, but her smile curled with wicked approval. “He always did have a thing for sweet ones.”
They slipped into the master bedroom, still laughing quietly, their towels clinging to warm, damp skin. But they didn’t get far.
Phil was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, eyes dark.
He stood as soon as they entered—and Hannah’s laugh caught in her throat.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just crossed the room in two strides, grabbed Diana by the waist, and tossed her back onto the bed with a controlled, possessive force.
“You took too long,” he growled, his voice gravel and heat.
Diana gasped, breathless and flushed, but she didn’t resist.
Phil turned to Hannah, his eyes searing into her. “You,” he ordered, his voice thick. “Straddle her face.”
Hannah hesitated just a moment, her breath catching—then she dropped her towel and climbed onto the bed, slow and smooth, a teasing smile curling on her lips.
Phil’s eyes flicked back to Diana, now splayed across the mattress, chest rising in shallow breaths.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded, stepping closer.
Diana obeyed, eyes locked on him, anticipation trembling in her limbs.
And just like that, the room ignited again. Hannah let out a soft, breathless moan as Diana’s mouth found her without hesitation—eager, practiced, and hungry. The heat of it made Hannah’s thighs tremble where they bracketed Diana’s face, her hands tangling in her own hair as her body rocked, slowly, deliberately, against every flick of Diana’s tongue.
She positioned herself just right—facing Phil.
Her eyes locked with his.
And then she watched.
Phil didn’t hesitate. He stepped between Diana’s spread legs and gripped her thighs with both hands, grounding her before driving into her with a single, punishing thrust.
Diana cried out into Hannah—sending vibrations that made Hannah gasp and rock harder, her breath catching on a moan.
Hannah’s eyes glittered as she stared down at Phil. The sharp planes of his face were clenched, jaw tight, muscles flexing with every move. His breath came hard and heavy, chest slick with sweat, eyes half-wild.
“You’re really worked up, aren’t you?” Hannah murmured, her voice a low, teasing purr. “Was it walking in on me with your wife in the shower?”
Phil grunted, his hands digging harder into Diana’s hips as he drove into her again—harder, deeper.
Hannah smirked, her body rocking with Diana’s eager mouth, every moan stoking the fire between them all. “You liked watching us, didn’t you?” she whispered, head tilting, her voice honey-slick and cruel. “You liked hearing her beg for me.”
Phil’s breath caught, a growl low in his throat as he glared at her—but the tension in his body said everything. Hannah had him wrapped around her finger just as surely as Diana had her between hers.
Hannah never broke eye contact.
Perched atop Diana with a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, her eyes locked on Phil’s—and held. His were wild with heat, narrowed with focus, but she could see it: that simmering edge of frustration, lust, and need all tangled into one.
He was gorgeous like that.
Tall, cut, his body moving with raw strength as he slammed into Diana again and again, the muscles in his arms flexing, his breath ragged and harsh. Every thrust rocked Diana’s body beneath her, and every moan Diana let out sent a soft, sinful vibration right through Hannah’s core.
Hannah’s lips curved in a slow, wicked smile.
“You ever make her break like this before?” she murmured, voice dark and velvety. “Have you ever made her fall apart this hard? God, feel the way her cunt tightens up on your cock as she sucks my clit.”
Phil growled low, his pace faltering for a moment. Hannah saw it—and leaned into it.
She ground herself harder onto Diana’s mouth, and Diana responded eagerly, her hands digging into Hannah’s thighs, her tongue insistent, eager to please. Hannah gasped, hips bucking slightly, but her gaze stayed on Phil like a challenge.
“She’s so good at this,” Hannah cooed, looking down at Diana as her fingers wove through her hair. “So obedient. So eager to please me. You feel how tight she is around you right now, Phil?” She looked up again, eyes glinting. “That’s all because of me.”
Phil’s eyes flared.
His thrusts got harder.
And Hannah just laughed—dark, breathless, triumphant—as she rocked faster against Diana, her moans building with every flick of tongue and slam of hips, every breath in the dark, heated room charged with the power she held.
Phil’s breath caught, then broke into a ragged snarl.
He snapped.
“Filthy little slut,” he growled, voice rough and full of heat. “That mouth of yours never stops—because all you’re good for is this.”
His hands gripped Diana’s thighs tighter, his rhythm brutal, and his eyes locked on Hannah like she was something he wanted to ruin and worship in the same breath.
But Hannah just laughed.
Full-throated and dark, the sound echoed through the room like a dare. Her hair clung to her damp skin, her chest heaving, her entire body alight with power and pleasure.
“Oh, Phil,” she gasped between moans, “you’re so angry. Is it because you know I’m right?”
She bounced harder on Diana’s face, her hands tangled in the older woman’s hair as she rode her with abandon. Diana didn’t resist—she only moaned and clutched tighter, her tongue relentless, her body writhing between them both.
Hannah’s head tipped back, a moan ripping through her throat as she rocked, chasing the high that was building fast and sharp.
She looked down at Phil again, eyes gleaming, mouth slick with wicked pleasure.
“I’m gonna come,” she purred, breathless and triumphant. “I’m gonna come all over your wife’s pretty little mouth. Watch my pussy drip down her fucking chin. Watch your wife become my little pussy eating bitch.”
Phil growled, his thrusts growing savage as he stared at her, jaw clenched tight.
And Hannah?
She never stopped smiling.
Hannah shattered with a cry.
Her whole body tightened, back arching as the pleasure hit her in a wave so sharp and sudden it pulled the scream from her throat. She didn’t look away—not for a second. Her eyes locked with Phil’s, wide and wild and blazing, and the connection between them held as her body trembled through every pulse of release.
Diana moaned beneath her, her mouth still moving, her grip unrelenting—and that only sent aftershocks ripping through Hannah’s legs as she gasped and laughed, high on the power of it.
Phil’s breath came in hard bursts, the muscles in his chest straining as he slammed into Diana harder, each thrust brutal and possessive. His eyes were dark fire now—searing, feral.
And still Hannah stayed right where she was, lips curling in a breathless smile as she leaned down between her thighs.
Her fingers slipped between Diana’s legs, finding her center with merciless precision. She circled, slow and deliberate, just once—then faster.
Diana squealed, her hips jolting, her hands flying up to clutch at the sheets as her body convulsed beneath them both.
Hannah’s voice was low and wicked as she looked up at Phil again. “Harder,” she growled. “Faster. Make your wife come. Fuck that cunt, Phil. Harder, goddamnit.”
Phil gritted his teeth, grabbed Diana’s hips like he might tear through her, and drove into her with the kind of force that made the bed groan beneath them.
Hannah kept her fingers moving, her smile growing with every desperate cry from Diana’s lips.
“You feel that?” she whispered to Phil. “She’s right there. Push her over.”
And Phil did.
The rhythm between the three of them cracked wide open—moans, slaps, gasps filling the room, bodies colliding in a fever of heat and hunger and shared madness.
Diana broke.
Her body arched between them, a sharp, desperate cry tearing from her throat as her release slammed into her like a wave—long, loud, and unfiltered. Her hands twisted in the sheets, her legs trembling, chest rising in frantic bursts as Hannah’s fingers worked her through every shudder, every aftershock.
And above her, Hannah laughed. Wild, breathless, triumphant.
“Yes,” she chanted, rocking her hips lazily over Diana’s still-moving mouth. “Yes. That’s it. Let her have it, Phil.”
Phil groaned, his face twisted in a snarl of effort and release, his body shuddering with the last hard slams into his wife’s trembling form. Sweat dripped from his temple, his jaw tight, his breathing ragged.
And still, Hannah didn’t let him off the hook.
She leaned forward, her voice silken and sharp as a blade, whispering through her panting breath. “Good little boy,” she purred. “You listened so well.”
Phil’s eyes flicked up to her, still burning—defiance, desire, hatred—all tangled into one desperate, unraveling glare.
Hannah smirked, dragging her fingers slowly down Diana’s thigh. “You couldn’t have made her come like that without me,” she said, her voice low and final. “You needed me.”
Phil’s breathing was still ragged, his chest rising and falling like he’d just fought his way out of something primal. Sweat clung to his skin, his muscles twitching with every aftershock of release.
Hannah barely had time to smirk again before his hand shot out—rough, sudden—and wrapped around her throat.
Not to choke.
Just enough pressure to let her feel him.
To remind her he wasn’t finished.
She inhaled sharply, eyes flaring as his grip held her there, frozen in the delicious tension between control and surrender.
“You think I needed you?” Phil growled, his voice low and sharp, vibrating against her skin. “You think this mouth, this body, gets to talk like that without earningit?”
Hannah’s lips parted, a breathy laugh slipping free.
He leaned in, voice gravel now, dark and thick. “I’ve been thinking about you since the second you walked in that door in your little towel. The way you bossed me around. The way you made my wife beg.” His thumb brushed her jaw. “You’ve got a filthy mouth. And a filthier mind.”
Below them, Diana finally slipped out from underneath, breathless and dazed, her body still twitching with soft aftershocks. She lay on her side across the bed, her legs trembling, eyes glazed with pleasure. Her chest rose in uneven bursts as she reached weakly for the sheets, her voice no more than a whisper.
“Oh… my god…”
But neither Hannah nor Phil looked down. Their gazes were locked, the energy crackling between them like a live wire.
Hannah swallowed under his hand, her smile slow and wicked. “Say it again,” she murmured, breath hot against his lips. “Tell me what you think about me.”
Phil’s eyes burned darker. His grip didn’t loosen.
Phil’s eyes burned, his grip on Hannah’s throat tightening just enough to hold her still—just enough to make her pulse flutter beneath his thumb. Her smirk didn’t fade, but there was something electric behind her eyes now—anticipation, challenge, something hungry.
“You’ve got one hell of a mouth,” he growled, voice low and vibrating through her bones. “Running it like you own the place. Like you can take my wife and then tell me how to fuck her.”
He released her throat and grabbed her waist in the same motion, spinning her around and tossing her down onto the bed face-first. She let out a sharp gasp, hands bracing against the mattress, hair tumbling wild around her shoulders.
“You need to be punished for that mouth,” Phil snarled behind her, his voice sharper now, full of grit and heat. “For touching what’s mine. For being such a filthy whore. For tasting my wife’s pussy.”
And then he thrust into her—hard, all at once.
“Now shut the fuck up and take my goddamn cock, bitch.” Phil demanded.
Hannah moaned, loud and shameless, her back arching as her body took every inch of him without hesitation. The sound she made was half-laughter, half-surrender, like she’d been waiting for this.
Phil groaned low, his hands gripping her hips tight as he started to move, fast and punishing. His words were jagged between thrusts, falling from his lips like fire.
“Dirty little whore.. Always needing attention… Needed someone to shut you up.”
Hannah only moaned louder in response, pushing back against him with every thrust, her voice breaking into gasps.
“Say it,” he growled. “Say what you are.”
She looked back over her shoulder, her lips parted, her eyes blazing.
The bed rocked beneath them, the air thick with the sound of skin, breath, and want.
Phil grunted with each thrust, his pace brutal now, fingers digging into Hannah’s hips like he meant to leave a reminder there. Her back arched, her moans echoing off the walls, her hands clenching the sheets as she pushed back into him, matching his rhythm with desperate precision.
“Harder,” Hannah gasped, voice ragged, pleading. “Don’t stop—make her proud.Use me like you mean it. Show her what happens to silly whores that go after what’s yours.”
Phil’s breath caught. Something darker flickered across his face.
“Oh, you like being used, don’t you?” he growled, slamming into her harder. “Filthy little bitch, just begging to be fucked in front of my wife.”
Hannah whimpered—high and breathless, nearly laughing. “She loved watching me come… I bet she’s still shaking.”
Phil snarled, his thrusts turning vicious, every movement a command.
“You’re nothing but a dirty, spoiled slut,” he spat, the words sharp, cruel—and laced with hunger. “Good for fucking. Good for wrecking.”
Hannah cried out, her voice cracked and glorious. “Yes. That’s all I want. Use me.”
Phil drove harder, faster, his jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his chest as he bore down on her like a man possessed. The bed groaned beneath them. The air pulsed with raw, carnal energy.
“Say what you are,” he hissed, voice right at her ear now. “Say it.”
“I’m your filthy little toy,” she moaned. “Yours to use. Hers to watch.”
Phil’s hand fisted in Hannah’s icy blonde hair, still damp and tangled from earlier. With a sharp tug, he yanked her upright, forcing her back into a perfect arch. She gasped, her body trembling, breath caught in her throat—but her mouth curled into a wicked smile.
“Since you like using your mouth so much,” he growled at her ear, voice hot and biting, “put it to good use.”
Without needing to be told twice, Diana slid lower on the bed, her legs parted, her body already shivering in anticipation. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her mouth parted as she beckoned Hannah closer with a soft, sultry breath.
“Come on then,” Diana whispered. “Let’s see how much of that attitude comes with skill.”
Hannah laughed—a wild, breathless sound—as she leaned forward and lowered herself between Diana’s thighs. Her hands gripped Diana’s hips, and then she devoured her, tongue and mouth insistent, greedy, unrelenting.
Diana gasped, hips jerking as her fingers buried themselves in Hannah’s hair, already losing control.
Phil watched the scene before him with fire in his eyes—Hannah’s back arched, skin flushed, her moans muffled between Diana’s thighs as she worked with a hunger that was almost unhinged.
He brought his hand down across her ass in a sharp, punishing slap.
“Fucking dumb slut” he snapped. “This what you wanted, huh? To show off? To get fucked and fed at the same time?”
Hannah moaned into Diana, who arched and cried out in pleasure, her head tossing back against the pillow.
Phil spanked her again, harder. Her perfect ass jiggled red under his rough hands.
Diana’s voice was breathless, trembling. “Harder,” she gasped, looking back at him, her face glowing with lust. “Make her learn. Teach her.”
Phil growled and dug his fingers into Hannah’s hips, ready to give them both exactly what they were asking for.
Phil’s gaze locked with Diana’s across the bed.
She was moaning openly now, her hands tangled in Hannah’s wild blonde hair, hips rising to meet every deep, purposeful stroke of her mouth. Hannah’s palms had found her chest, fingers rolling and teasing her nipples until Diana’s breath hitched, her mouth falling open in another gasping cry.
Phil’s hand came down on Hannah’s ass again—hard, punishing.
“Don’t you dare stop,” he growled, his voice raw. “You wanted this. You asked for this.”
Hannah moaned against Diana, her back arching from the impact, but she didn’t falter. She pushed harder, tongue relentless, hands squeezing as Diana writhed beneath her.
Phil’s eyes burned as he watched his wife fall apart—and then Diana turned her head, her flushed face twisting into a wicked smile.
“Oh, she’s good,” she purred breathlessly, voice low and smug. “But don’t let her get away with it.”
Phil blinked, breath catching.
“She seduced me,” Diana said, louder now, taunting. “Snuck into the shower. Took what she wanted like a little thief in heat.”
Phil’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides.
“She played you,” Diana whispered, breath trembling as Hannah moaned against her again. “Now make her pay for it.”
That was all it took.
Phil reached down, gripped Hannah’s hips like he meant to break her in half, and pulled her back with force, already poised to take her again—this time not for pleasure, but as retribution, as control reclaimed.
Hannah laughed darkly against Diana’s skin, lifting her head just long enough to look over her shoulder at him.
“Bring it on, Phil. You heard your beautiful wife. Fuck me, fuck my cunt harder!”
Hannah’s mouth locked onto Diana with a feral hunger, her teeth grazing, her tongue working with relentless purpose. Diana’s hips arched violently, a sharp cry escaping her throat as the pleasure snapped through her like lightning.
She screamed—loud, broken, undone.
Her body shook beneath Hannah, limbs trembling uncontrollably as her release surged through her, helpless and loud. She reached blindly for the sheets, clenching them in her fists, crying out again as Hannah didn’t let up, her mouth drawing every last wave from her.
Hannah pulled back, face flushed, lips slick, and laughed—low and triumphant.
“That’s how you do it, Phil,” she teased, eyes burning as she looked over her shoulder. “Watch and learn.”
Phil didn’t hesitate.
He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her upright, his mouth crashing against the side of her neck. He bit—not gentle, not soft—and she moaned, body jolting under his grip.
“You little brat,” he growled, voice dark and electric. “You think this is a game?”
Hannah gasped, still breathless from her conquest, but her laugh was defiant. Until Phil slammed into her again—deep, fast, unrelenting.
She cried out, her whole body lurching forward from the force of him.
Phil didn’t stop. He reached down, his fingers finding her center, slick and desperate. He rubbed hard, in sharp, ruthless circles, tearing the breath from her lungs.
Hannah screamed—loud, raw, high.
Now he was laughing.
“That’s it,” he snarled, eyes wild. “You’re gonna come. Right now.”
She shook her head, moaning, fighting it—but he didn’t give her a chance. His fingers moved faster, more precise, cruel in how well he knew what she needed.
He slapped her there—once, sharp, commanding.
She broke.
Her scream echoed off the walls as the release tore through her, long and hard, her body convulsing beneath him. She soaked the bed beneath them, her orgasm squirting from her tight pussy, her moans ragged and helpless as she collapsed into the mattress, barely able to breathe.
Phil chuckled darkly behind her, still holding her hair, still hard, still dominant.
“That’s what you get, that’s what all whores get.”
Hannah was lost in it now—her voice breaking into frantic, breathless chants, the rhythm of her body wild beneath Phil’s unrelenting pace.
“Yes—take me,” she gasped. “Take me, use me, make me come—again—I don’t care—just do it—”
Phil growled low in his throat, his body slamming into hers with punishing rhythm. Sweat dripped down his chest, muscles flexed and burning, his hand coming down across her once more—sharp, commanding, final.
Hannah screamed, the sound shaking with pleasure and fire, her body trembling beneath the force of him.
“God,” Phil rasped, voice rough and shuddering. “I’m gonna come.”
Hannah’s head snapped back, her breath caught in her throat, and she begged—voice hoarse, desperate.
“Do it,” she moaned. “Please—come in me. I want it—I want all of it.”
Phil let out a broken sound, somewhere between a snarl and a groan, his grip tightening as the final wave crashed through him—spine arched, breath stolen, his body locking in that last, overwhelming moment of surrender.
They collapsed into each other—breathless, tangled, slick with heat and need, the bed a ruin beneath them.
And in the silence that followed, the only sound was Hannah’s soft, breathless laugh.
