Swing - Episode 8

She watched him from across the room while her dress pooled at her feet. The other woman—taller, with long legs—already had his shirt unbuttoned, fingers tracing down his chest. His eyes found hers. She gave the slightest nod. Permission. Hunger. Both. He kissed the stranger first. Hard. Then slower, tasting her. Her hand slid between his legs, stroking him through his jeans until the denim strained. She felt heat pool low in her belly at the sight. The man behind her pressed close, his cock heavy against her ass. He cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they tightened. She arched into his touch, never taking her eyes off her husband. When his jeans hit the floor she saw the other woman drop to her knees. The wet sound of her mouth taking him filled the quiet room. He groaned, hips rolling, one hand tangled in her dark hair. She reached back, found the other man already hard. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked in time with the rhythm of that mouth working her husband. Every slick pull made her thighs clench. They moved to the bed together. She crawled between her husband’s spread legs and licked a slow stripe up his length while the other woman straddled his face. His tongue met her at the same moment. They moaned in unison. Behind her, hands spread her open. The blunt head of a cock nudged her entrance, then pushed inside with one steady thrust. She gasped around her husband’s dick, the stretch sharp and perfect. He reached down and found her clit, circling it while the stranger fucked her in deep, even strokes. She came first—tightening around the man inside her, thighs trembling against the sheets. Her husband followed seconds later, pulsing hot on her tongue while the woman above him ground down harder on his mouth. They didn’t stop. Bodies shifted, mouths found new skin, hands explored. Sweat-slick and gasping, they learned the rhythm of four people learning each other for the first time.