Jack’s fingers lingered a moment longer, drawing a shiver from me as Mark watched, silent and transfixed. Jack’s eyes met mine, then flicked to Mark, a silent question passing between them. I felt the heat of their attention, the anticipation thick in the air.
Jack leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.”
He took my hand, leading me down the hallway. My legs felt unsteady, every step charged with nerves and excitement. Mark followed, his footsteps steady behind us, the tension in him almost visible.
In the bedroom, the sheets were still rumpled from the night before. Jack turned to me, his hands on my waist, drawing me close. Mark paused at the threshold, then moved to the corner of the room, settling himself into the old armchair. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving us, present but giving space, his desire clear in every line of his body.
Jack kissed me, slow at first, then deeper, his hands exploring, claiming. The world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the press of his body, and the knowledge that Mark was watching every movement. I felt exposed, wanted, and powerful.
Jack eased me back onto the bed, his lips never leaving mine, his hands sliding down to part my thighs. I glanced at Mark; he was watching, breathless, his gaze hungry but soft, a silent encouragement in his eyes.
Jack’s voice was low. “You ready for this?”
I nodded, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes. I want you. I want him to see everything.”
Jack smiled, his confidence steadying me. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then began to undress me, slow and deliberate, as Mark watched from his chair, eyes dark, silent, and utterly captivated.
Jack’s hands lingered at my waist, his lips brushing mine in a slow, searching kiss. I felt Mark’s gaze from across the room, a silent, electric presence, his breath shallow, his knuckles white on the armrests. The air in the bedroom was thick with anticipation, every movement deliberate, every glance a question.
Jack’s fingers traced the curve of my hip, slipping beneath the hem of my dress. He paused, his eyes flicking to Mark, then back to me, as if asking for permission. I nodded, my heart pounding, my body already humming with need. Mark watched, transfixed, his eyes dark and hungry but soft, a silent encouragement in his gaze.
Jack’s mouth found my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine. His hands slid higher, pushing my dress up, exposing me inch by inch. I was acutely aware of every detail: the way the fabric rustled, the cool air on my skin, and the heat of Jack’s hands as they explored me. I could feel Mark’s eyes on us, see the way his chest rose and fell, and the tension in his body.
Jack eased me down onto the bed, his lips never leaving mine. He knelt between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs, parting them. I glanced at Mark; he was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, his arousal obvious, his attention unwavering.
Jack’s fingers found me, slow and gentle at first, circling, teasing, coaxing a gasp from my lips. I arched my back, hips lifting to meet his touch, my breath coming in short, desperate bursts. The pleasure built slowly, a deep, insistent ache that made me tremble.
“Let him see you,” Jack murmured, his voice rough with want. “Let him see how much you want this.”
I met Mark’s eyes, letting him see everything, the need, the hunger, the way Jack’s touch was unravelling me. Jack’s fingers moved with purpose, slipping inside me, his thumb circling my clit. I moaned, my body tightening, the pleasure cresting higher and higher.
Mark’s hand drifted to his lap, pressing against the bulge in his trousers, his breathing ragged. He didn’t look away or flinch; he watched, present and engaged, his desire clear in every line of his body.
Jack’s touch changed; his fingers, which had been tracing gentle circles, now pressed more firmly against me. He took his time, exploring every contour, his movements slow and deliberate. I felt the pads of his fingers glide over my slickness, teasing, coaxing, never quite giving me what I craved. My breath caught, the anticipation building with every subtle shift of his hand.
He slid a single finger inside me, curling it just so, his thumb grazing my clit in lazy, feather-light circles. I shuddered, hips lifting off the bed, my body arching into his hand. He watched my face, reading every gasp, every flutter of my eyelids, adjusting his rhythm to the smallest sign of pleasure. The room was silent except for the sound of my breathing and the faint, wet sounds of his fingers working me.
Mark’s eyes never left us. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, hot and intense, following every movement of Jack’s hand. The knowledge that he was watching, seeing me open, vulnerable, desperate, made the pleasure sharper, more urgent. I met his eyes, letting him see the way Jack’s touch was unravelling me, the way my body responded with every stroke.
Jack added a second finger, stretching me, filling me, his pace still unhurried but growing more confident. He pressed deeper, his thumb circling faster now, building the pressure inside me. My thighs trembled, my breath coming in short, desperate bursts. I bit my lip, trying to hold back, but the sensation was overwhelming.
He leaned in, his mouth brushing my ear. “Let go,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “I want him to see you come for me.”
That was all it took. His fingers moved faster, relentless now, his thumb pressing just right. The pleasure built and built, cresting higher with every heartbeat. I couldn’t hold back any longer. My body tensed, my back arching off the bed, a cry tearing from my lips as the orgasm crashed over me, raw, intense, and all-consuming.
My muscles shook, every nerve ending alight. For a moment, my mind went blank, lost in the rush of sensation. When I came back to myself, I saw Mark’s eyes wide, his lips parted, hunger and awe etched across his face. The effect of my release on him was undeniable, a silent, electric current passing between us, binding us all together in that moment.
Jack didn’t stop. He let his fingers linger inside me, slowing his pace, his touch feather-light and achingly gentle. My body was still trembling from the last climax, nerves raw and exposed, but the way he moved, so patient, so attentive, kept me suspended in that sweet, vulnerable space between pleasure and surrender.
He withdrew his fingers just enough to trace slow, teasing circles around my entrance, his thumb brushing delicately over my swollen clit. Each stroke sent a fresh ripple of sensation through me, making my thighs quiver and my breath catch in my throat. I felt wide open, every nerve ending alive, every inch of skin tingling beneath his touch.
Jack leaned in, his mouth soft against the inside of my thigh, lips pressing warm, reverent kisses along the sensitive skin. He worked his way higher, pausing to breathe me in, to let his tongue flick out and taste the salt of my skin. The contrast between his gentle mouth and the insistent, rhythmic movement of his fingers made my hips roll helplessly, seeking more.
He watched my face as he moved, searching for every flicker of pleasure, every gasp and shudder. His free hand slid up to splay across my belly, grounding me, holding me steady as he coaxed my body toward another peak. I could hear Mark’s breathing from across the room, rough and uneven, and the sound only heightened my arousal, the knowledge that I was being watched, cherished, and desired by both men at once.
Jack’s fingers pressed deeper, curling just right, his thumb circling my clit with slow, deliberate pressure. I felt the tension building again, slower this time, a deep ache that spread through my core and made my toes curl against the sheets. My breath came in ragged gasps, the world narrowing to the heat of his mouth and the relentless, patient skill of his hands.
He murmured encouragements, his voice low and rough. “That’s it, Emma. Let yourself feel it. Let him see how good I can make you feel.” The words sent a shiver through me, my body tightening, the pleasure cresting higher with every heartbeat.
I was utterly lost in sensation, my mind slipping away, my body shaking as the second orgasm built inside me, slower, deeper, a wave that gathered and gathered until it finally broke. I cried out, my back arching, muscles clenching around his fingers as another climax rolled through me, leaving me breathless and undone.
Jack didn’t rush to pull away. He stayed close, pressing gentle kisses to my thighs, his fingers still moving in slow, soothing circles as I came down. My breath was shaky, my body limp, every inch of me humming with aftershocks. I glanced at Mark and saw him watching, his eyes wide and dark, lips parted, the hunger in his gaze mingled with awe.
At that moment, I felt completely seen by Jack, who knew exactly how to touch me, and by Mark, who witnessed every shiver, every gasp, and every surrender. The intimacy of it was overwhelming, a silent promise that nothing between us would ever be the same.
When the aftershocks faded, Jack’s hands were gentle as he helped me sit up, his arms steadying me while my body still trembled. He guided me to my knees at the edge of the bed, his touch slow and careful, giving me time to catch my breath. I felt the cool air on my flushed skin, the ache between my thighs a lingering echo of pleasure. My heart was pounding, each beat heavy with anticipation for what would come next.
Jack stood before me, his eyes never leaving mine as I reached for his jeans. My fingers were clumsy at first, still shaky from release, but I managed to undo the button and slide the zipper down. The sound was loud in the quiet room, a small, intimate punctuation to the moment. I eased the denim over his hips, revealing the hard, urgent line of his cock straining against his boxers. I glanced up at him and saw the hunger in his eyes and the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, freeing him at last. His cock sprang forward, thick and flushed, the head already slick with anticipation. I paused for a moment, just looking, taking in the weight and shape of him, the way he twitched in my hand. I wrapped my fingers around the base, feeling the heat and the pulse of blood beneath the skin, and gave him a slow, deliberate stroke.
Before I took him into my mouth, I glanced at Mark. He was still in the chair, his eyes locked on us, his lips parted, a flush high on his cheeks. There was pride there, and longing, and something almost reverent in the way he watched me. The knowledge that he was seeing all of this, that he wanted to see it, made me feel powerful and cherished all at once.
I leaned forward, letting my tongue flick out to taste the bead of moisture at the tip. Jack groaned, his hand finding my hair, fingers threading through the strands but not forcing, just holding. I licked him slowly, tracing the ridge and the sensitive underside, savouring the salt and heat. I took him in, inch by inch, letting my lips stretch around him, my tongue swirling as I drew him deeper.
Jack’s breath hitched, his hips rolling forward in a slow, controlled thrust. He was careful not to push too hard, letting me set the pace, but his need was obvious in the way his fingers tightened in my hair. I moved slowly, hollowing my cheeks, drawing him in and then letting him slide out, my hand stroking the base in time with my mouth.
I glanced up at Mark again, locking eyes with him as I took Jack deeper. The connection between us was electric, his arousal, his awe, the silent encouragement in his gaze. I let him see everything: the way my lips stretched, the way my jaw worked, the way I moaned softly around Jack’s cock, sending vibrations through him.
Jack’s other hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin as he watched me. “God, Emma,” he groaned, his voice rough and low. “You look incredible like this. So fucking beautiful.”
Emboldened, I let one hand drift down between my thighs, finding myself still slick and sensitive. I touched myself as I sucked him, the pleasure building again, my body aching for more. The dual sensation, the fullness of Jack in my mouth, and the heat of my own fingers made my head spin.
I took my time, savouring every reaction: the way Jack’s hips trembled, the way his breath grew ragged, the way Mark’s hand moved almost unconsciously to his own lap, his arousal plain. I let the moment stretch, drawing out Jack’s pleasure, letting him feel every flick of my tongue, every soft moan, and every gentle scrape of my teeth.
Jack’s control was ironclad, his hips moving in slow, measured thrusts, never letting himself get too close. He wanted this to last, wanted Mark to see all of it, and wanted me to enjoy every second. I revelled in the power, the intimacy, and the way all three of us were bound together in that moment by nothing but need and trust.
When I finally pulled back, letting Jack slip from my lips with a soft, wet sound, I looked up at both men, Jack, flushed and trembling, and Mark, eyes wide and shining. I licked my lips, tasting him, and smiled, feeling utterly adored and completely alive.
Jack pulled me up gently, his hands steady and sure as he helped me rise from the bed. My legs wobbled slightly, still weak from the waves of pleasure that had just passed through me. He guided me back down onto the soft sheets, laying me back with care, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, with deliberate tenderness, he spread my legs wide, making sure Mark had an unobstructed view of everything between us.
The air in the room thickened with anticipation. Jack knelt between my thighs, his breath warm and steady against my skin. His mouth found my clit, soft and wet, his tongue flicking out in slow, tantalising strokes that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me. Each movement was relentless yet patient, a perfect balance of hunger and reverence.
I felt my body respond immediately, muscles tightening, breath catching in my throat. Jack’s tongue traced lazy circles, then quick flicks, teasing and coaxing me higher and higher. The sensation built gradually, a delicious tension that wrapped around every nerve ending. My hips lifted involuntarily, seeking more of his touch, my hands clutching the sheets beneath me.
Mark’s eyes never wavered. I caught his gaze, dark and intense, filled with a mixture of awe and desire. The knowledge that he was watching me so openly, so completely, made every sensation sharper, every touch more electric. I was exposed and adored, the centre of both their attention and it sent a thrill coursing through me.
Jack’s tongue grew more insistent, his mouth hot and wet, pressing harder against my clit. I gasped, my body trembling as pleasure spiralled upward. My cries filled the room, louder this time, raw and unrestrained, as the second orgasm crashed over me, harder and deeper than before. My muscles clenched tightly around his mouth, my back arching off the bed, every inch of me alive with sensation.
When the waves subsided, Jack didn’t rush away. Instead, he lifted his head, his lips glistening, and looked at me with a slow, satisfied smile. His hands moved to my hips, steadying me as he shifted his position.
Mark’s presence was a live wire in the room, his hunger and need as raw as the air we breathed. From the armchair, his trousers open, his cock thick and flushed in his grip, he watched every movement with a ferocity that left nothing hidden. His hand moved slowly, deliberately, matching the rhythm of Jack’s thrusts, his eyes locked on me, sometimes on my face, sometimes on the place where Jack’s body met mine.
I felt the heat of his gaze, the way it roamed over my flushed skin, the way his lips parted each time I moaned or arched my back. There was no shame, no hesitation. Mark wanted us to see him, wanted us to know exactly what this was doing to him. The sight of my husband stroking himself, breath ragged, eyes dark with lust, sent a jolt of electricity through my body. I held his gaze as Jack fucked me, letting him see every gasp, every shudder, every desperate plea that spilt from my lips.
Jack noticed too. He slowed his movements, shifting my hips so Mark could watch the way I opened for him, the way I trembled with each deep thrust. He met Mark’s eyes, a silent challenge and invitation passing between them.
“You see her?” Jack’s voice was low, rough. “You see how much she loves being watched? How wet she is for both of us?”
Mark’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his cock. He didn’t look away. “Don’t stop,” he said, his voice hoarse, thick with need. “Let me see all of it. I want to see her come again.”
The tension in the room was unbearable, every second stretched tight as a wire. I felt Mark’s hunger feeding mine, making each sensation sharper, every touch more urgent. My body was a live nerve, every inch of me exposed and adored, the air between us thick with need. Jack’s hands gripped my hips harder, his thrusts deep and relentless, his eyes flicking between my face and Mark’s, feeding off the wild, unspoken energy that pulsed between all three of us.
I reached for Mark with my eyes, letting him see the way I surrendered, the way I craved his attention as much as Jack’s touch. His hand moved faster, his breath coming in ragged bursts, but he held himself back, refusing to let go, refusing to break the spell that bound us all together in that moment.
The tension built, the need growing sharper and more desperate, the promise of release hanging in the air, delayed and denied, but inevitable.
Jack didn’t rush as he moved over me. He pressed a lingering kiss to my lips, then to my neck, his hands sliding down to gently part my thighs once more. He positioned himself between my legs, his eyes locking with mine, searching for any hesitation. All I felt was hunger, his and mine, and Mark’s, too, watching from his chair, breathless and transfixed.
He entered me slowly, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, then sliding in inch by inch. The stretch was delicious, making me gasp, my body arching to meet him. Jack paused, buried deep, letting me feel every inch of him. His hands framed my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks as he began to move, slow, measured thrusts, each one deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. I could see the tension in his jaw, the effort it took to hold back, to savour every second. My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him deeper.
He leaned down, kissing me softly, then harder, his thrusts growing a little faster, but still controlled. The friction was exquisite, my body clenching around him, pleasure building in slow, steady waves. I broke the kiss, turning my head to find Mark’s gaze. His eyes were wide, lips parted, his arousal plain and unashamed. The knowledge that he was watching, seeing Jack inside me, seeing my body open and eager, made the pleasure sharper, more urgent.
Jack shifted, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in, filling me again and again. Each movement was purposeful, his hips rolling, his pelvis grinding against my clit. I moaned, my hands clutching his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. He whispered encouragement, his breath hot against my ear. “That’s it, Emma. Let him see how much you love this. Let him see you come for me.”
When my body began to tremble, Jack slowed, pulling out and guiding me to turn over. He pressed a kiss to my spine, then to the curve of my hip, before positioning me on all fours. His hands gripped my hips, strong and steady, as he slid back inside me from behind. The new angle was deeper and more intense, and I cried out, my fingers twisting in the sheets.
Jack set a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against me, the sound raw and primal. He leaned forward, one hand slipping beneath me to circle my clit, the other splayed across my lower back, holding me in place. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through my core, my body rocking back to meet him. I glanced over my shoulder, catching Mark’s gaze, his eyes dark, his hand moving in his lap, utterly captivated.
Jack’s voice was low, rough with need. “You look incredible like this. So open, so ready. Tell me what you want, Emma.”
I gasped, barely able to form words. “Harder. Don’t stop. I want him to see everything.”
He obliged, his thrusts growing deeper, more urgent, his fingers relentless on my clit. I came again, my body shaking, my cries muffled by the pillow as pleasure crashed over me. Jack slowed, easing out, and turned me gently onto my back.
He lay down, pulling me on top of him, guiding me to straddle his hips. I felt powerful, exposed, every inch of me on display for Mark. Jack’s hands rested on my thighs, steadying me as I sank down onto him, taking him deep. I rode him slowly at first, rolling my hips, grinding against him, feeling every ridge and pulse of his cock inside me.
Jack’s hands slid up to my waist, then to my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples, sending sparks of sensation through my body. I set the pace, moving faster, chasing another climax, my head thrown back, hair tumbling over my shoulders. Jack watched me, his eyes dark with awe and hunger, his lips parted, breath ragged.
He urged me on, his voice a low murmur. “That’s it. Show him how much you want it. Show him how good you feel.”
I met Mark’s eyes, letting him see everything: the flush on my skin, the way my body moved, and the way I lost myself in pleasure. I came again, harder than before, my body clenching around Jack, my cries echoing in the room.
Jack held me close as I collapsed against his chest, his hands stroking my back, grounding me as the aftershocks faded. He hadn’t come yet, his control absolute, his focus entirely on me. I felt utterly spent and utterly seen by both men in every possible way.
Mark’s eyes burnt as he watched, his hand moving faster over his cock. The air was electric, desire, jealousy, and excitement all tangled together. I let myself feel it all, the rush of being wanted by both men, the wildness of being truly seen.
Jack’s grip tightened on my hips, his jaw clenched, sweat beading along his brow as he fought for control. Each thrust was deeper, more urgent, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself back. I could feel him pulsing inside me, the tension in his muscles, the way his breath hitched every time I clenched around him.
He gritted his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, willing himself not to let go.
“Fuck, Emma… You feel so good… I don’t want to come yet; I want to make you come again.” His voice was ragged, desperate as if the words themselves were the only thing keeping him from the edge.
I rocked my hips harder, meeting his every thrust, wanting to push him over that precipice. “Don’t hold back,” I whispered, my voice a plea and a dare. “I want to feel you lose control. I want you to come inside me while Mark watches.”
Jack’s eyes flew open, locking with mine, wild and dark with need. He tried to slow down, but his body betrayed him; his hips snapped forward, faster, deeper, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the room. His hands slid up my sides, gripping me as if he could anchor himself, but I could feel him unravelling.
He let out a strangled groan, his composure slipping. “Emma, I can’t… I can’t hold it.” His words broke off as his thrusts turned frantic, his whole body shuddering with the effort to stave off release. He buried his face in my neck, breath hot and ragged, and I felt him trembling, on the verge.
I clenched around him, urging him on, my pleasure building with his. “Let go, Jack. I want to feel you come. I want Mark to see you fill me up.”
That was all it took; Jack’s body tensed, his grip bruising on my hips, and with a guttural cry, he surrendered. I felt him pulse deep inside me, hot and overwhelming, his orgasm tearing through him so hard he nearly sobbed against my skin. He kept moving, desperate to draw out every last wave, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside me.
The sight, the sound, and the sheer rawness of it all pushed Mark over the edge. I turned my head, locking eyes with him across the room, his hand moving furiously as he watched us, his face twisted in pleasure and awe. He groaned, thick and broken, and I saw him cum over himself, hot ropes of white stickiness striping his stomach and chest, his eyes never leaving mine.
The intensity of it all, the heat, the sound, the sight of both men undone, sent me crashing into my own climax. My body convulsed, pleasure ripping through me, and I squirted hard, soaking the sheets beneath me, my cries echoing in the room. For a moment, everything was sensation, wet, wild, overwhelming, until I collapsed back, spent and shaking, Jack still trembling above me, Mark gasping in the chair, all of us laid bare.
We stayed like that, tangled in sweat and release, the air thick with the scent of sex and something new, acceptance, relief, and the wild freedom of having nothing left to hide.
Jack and I lay beside each other, our bodies tangled and slick with sweat, breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The sheets beneath us were soaked, the air thick with the scent of sex and something deeper, release, relief, and a wild, aching satisfaction. My thighs trembled as the last aftershocks rolled through me, Jack’s hand still resting on my hip, grounding me in the moment.
Across the room, Mark sat slumped in the chair, his chest rising and falling, his cock still semi-hard, cum glistening on his skin. He looked at us, at me, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. No shame, no guilt, only the raw honesty of what we’d just shared.
Jack turned his head, his lips brushing my shoulder. “You okay?” he murmured, voice hoarse.
I nodded, unable to speak, my body spent but my mind racing. I looked at Mark, searching his face for regret, for anger, for anything that might break the fragile peace hanging in the air. Instead, I saw only hunger and a strange, quiet awe.
Mark wiped his hand across his stomach, then met my gaze. “I’ve never seen you like that,” he said softly. “Never seen you let go.”
I let out a shaky breath, a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep. “I didn’t know I could.”
For a long moment, none of us spoke. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the rawness of everything we’d just shared. I felt Mark’s eyes on me, then Jack’s hand, warm and steady on my thigh. There was no shame, no guilt, only the wild, dizzying freedom of being seen.
Jack finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. “So… was that it?” He glanced at Mark, then at me. “Or is this just the beginning?”
I turned to Mark, searching his face for hesitation, for regret. But he only smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made my heart thud. “I think we all know the answer to that,” he said quietly.
I let out a shaky laugh, relief and excitement mingling in my chest. “I don’t want it to be over,” I admitted. “Not if you don’t.”
Jack grinned, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin. “Good. Because I don’t think I could stay away if I tried.”
We lay there, tangled together, the future suddenly wide open. But as the afterglow faded, I caught Mark watching us, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
Mark leaned forward, voice soft but certain.
“Next time,” he said, “I want to try something different.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air. “I want to see what it’s like… if I’m not just watching.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his lips. I felt a jolt of surprise, and something else, run through me.
I met Mark’s gaze, my breath catching. “You mean…?”
He nodded, a new hunger in his eyes. “I want to know what it’s like to touch him, too. To touch both of you. No more lines.”
The room was silent for a beat, the possibilities crackling between us. I realised, in that moment, that what we’d started was only the beginning and that none of us really knew how far we might go.
