It was funny, now that we were all completely naked, how I’d fretted over what clothes to wear. Aron had made some kind of sarcastic remark about it, too as I was looking through my closet.

“What, are you going to be jealous?” I quipped at him.

“Insanely so,” he replied, not smiling.

“But you’re going to be with Tasha! I’m the one who should be jealous.”

“You didn’t ask if I was going to be rational,” he replied, and this time he smiled. “I’m going to be nervous, and excited, and curious and insanely jealous.”

And he’d been right, too. After the initial awkwardness was surmounted by music, and conversation, and alcohol, one thing had slowly lead to another, and I was riding Ken’s cock instead of Aron’s. The first time another man had been inside me since I’d met my husband five years ago. It was strange, and exciting, and hot, and, as I watched Aron slowly, deeply fucking my friend from behind, right next to me I, too felt a bone-deep surge of jealousy.

And, this was the crazy part, it made the whole thing even hotter. It made me grind down on Ken and moan, which in turn spurred my husband to give me a dark look and fuck Tasha harder.

It was insane. It was explosive, and it was one of the best and strangest orgasms of my life. I had no idea how Ken and Tasha reacted to it at the time, because all I could do, despite another man’s cock in me was pay attention to Aron, and he me. It’s still not clear whether we’ll try the experiment another time, but for weeks after our little “swap date” Aron and I have been fucking every night, hard, aggressively, possessively, as if we’re trying to erase the memory of the other lovers from each others’ bodies.

It’s clearly not working, because I still remember, intimately, what it felt like for another man to cum inside me while I watched my husband fill another woman with his seed. But the trying is so good. Aron has started growling that he’s going to have to knock me up to make sure everyone knows I’m his. And when he fucks me now, those orgasms do make me forget Ken. Almost.

Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong AlphabetTags: , ,

Cassie Andra

Old enough to know better and not care. Vanilla on the outside. Vanilla through and through, except for the mind. You don't want to go there, but I'll give you peeks. Be warned: erotica themes include standard fun, but also the taboo-est of the taboo. Coming of age, infidelity, family relations, dubious and non-consent. Every throbbing inch of it is, however, fantasy, and should be treated as such.

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