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In the chatter, between meals, we laughed and joked. I was next to her and he was in front of her. He had the same glint in his eyes as when we were first engaged. They exchanged little looks and smiles. Reds and eyes lowered. He was getting bolder and bolder, and I was getting quieter and quieter. She magnetic. It had been a long time since she was this beautiful, and the three-way conversation gradually became a two-way dialogue.
When, between the spaghetti on the rocks and the frying, he went to the bathroom and she said thank you. She told me that she loved me so much, that I was her one and only love and I was giving her a beautiful gift; she took my hand "feel love, feel that lake". I retracted my wet fingers almost immediately, looking at her with the amazement of a gesture I had never seen her do.
After the coffee and the bitterness he said to me "pay the bill we're going out". I looked for a sign of understanding in her and she made me understand that, yes, I had to go, alone, to pay the bill and they would go out together. I had not imagined that they would go hand in hand. When the cashier saw me, he asked me if I was all right. I didn't answer. Under the blanket of bewilderment there was a strange, different excitement. New.
When I got paid, I went outside. They were hugging each other with their heads apart, but the bodies tight, laughing at I don't know what. Maybe at me? I don't know. I don't even know if I'm convinced to keep playing, but how could I stop this? I don't know how and I wouldn't even have the courage, I thought. "Go get the car, honey," she said to me while I was gawking at them.
As I went, I thought I'd imagined everything different. I imagined myself getting more involved. I thought it was going to be a "group game"; instead, an understanding between them that was difficult to predict. What about me? What could I do besides having the privilege to observe everything? Deep down she loves me, I said to myself. She told me so tonight. She thanked me. I'm a lucky husband, after all. I have a beautiful wife who loves me and agreed to get into a situation where I pushed her. I asked her to meet him. I gave him her number. I told him what she likes and what she doesn't like. She just agreed. What more could I want? I just didn't think I'd be here in the car, alone, picking up the two of them.
They were on their way over to me, so I'd drive less, maybe. I found out when I found them on the street, she was leaning against a building wall with her back to me and he was kissing her holding her hands. I could almost see their tongues intertwining. I could almost smell her nose. What she normally gives off when she's so excited and wet. The intimate smell of my woman, who he now kissed on her neck and made her keep her mouth open and moan.
I stopped the car and called them. In vain. I called them again. I called them again. I called my wife by her name, "Scarlett... Scarlett...?" Nothing. They were too busy. I could hear my wife's breath all the way into the car. He was making out with her obscenely in the street, and she, instead of being shy like she always was with me, was meowing loudly without restraint.
While two boys in their twenties were walking along the sidewalk next to them, curious to see how far they would go, Scarlett, who, contrary to what I thought, had noticed me, said to me "yes love, one minute and we're coming". Just as they were passing by, those two little boys, who looked at each other, giggling at me, for sure.
He opened the door for her and they got in the back of the car. While I was driving I had one eye on the road and one on the mirror, and I made a mistake three times. Pietro, our friend, kept telling me "what a superb wife you have. You are a lucky man. I won't make you regret having chosen me". And I didn't know what to expect any more than regret. True, it was a game and it would end, but I had totally lost control over her, over him, even over me. I didn't understand anymore. I just knew that everything that was happening was upsetting me; my guts were twisting while my dick was getting hard. And I still had no idea what was going to happen when I got to our house, to our marriage bed.
After a hairpin bend to the right, I went back to point the mirror, but she wasn't there. I couldn't see her anymore. There was only him, legs apart, holding his arms behind his head and moaning with his eyes closed. After another nice bend full of anxiety, I discovered that she was there, but as she was bent over, completely bent over him, intent on licking his cock, I couldn't see her. All I could see in the mirror was Pietro enjoying my wife's work. Among other things, he also had the opportunity to open his eyes, the pig, visually check how my Scarlett took care of his tool, see my reflected look and wink at me, as if to say "congratulations, she's really good".
I parked the car. We got out of the car and while I was making sure I locked the door, she came up behind me. She was holding his hand. With the other hand, she grabbed me under the chin and gave me a kiss. She was rubbing herself and kissing me without leaving Peter's hand. And I, instead of her usual feminine scent, smelled a different one on her. And her saliva was more acidulous than usual. It wasn't my Scarlett's smell. It was a mixture. "This is to show you how much I love you. Thanks again, love." She turned to him and walked arm in arm towards the front door, waiting for me to open. As we were entering Pietro said to me, with her who had slightly taken advantage up the stairs, "thank you Mirko, you are a friend. I'm going to fuck her for you tonight. I'll give you a great show," thanks to you, my friend, I thought. And I swallowed a litre of saliva.
Go on.
When, between the spaghetti on the rocks and the frying, he went to the bathroom and she said thank you. She told me that she loved me so much, that I was her one and only love and I was giving her a beautiful gift; she took my hand "feel love, feel that lake". I retracted my wet fingers almost immediately, looking at her with the amazement of a gesture I had never seen her do.
After the coffee and the bitterness he said to me "pay the bill we're going out". I looked for a sign of understanding in her and she made me understand that, yes, I had to go, alone, to pay the bill and they would go out together. I had not imagined that they would go hand in hand. When the cashier saw me, he asked me if I was all right. I didn't answer. Under the blanket of bewilderment there was a strange, different excitement. New.
When I got paid, I went outside. They were hugging each other with their heads apart, but the bodies tight, laughing at I don't know what. Maybe at me? I don't know. I don't even know if I'm convinced to keep playing, but how could I stop this? I don't know how and I wouldn't even have the courage, I thought. "Go get the car, honey," she said to me while I was gawking at them.
As I went, I thought I'd imagined everything different. I imagined myself getting more involved. I thought it was going to be a "group game"; instead, an understanding between them that was difficult to predict. What about me? What could I do besides having the privilege to observe everything? Deep down she loves me, I said to myself. She told me so tonight. She thanked me. I'm a lucky husband, after all. I have a beautiful wife who loves me and agreed to get into a situation where I pushed her. I asked her to meet him. I gave him her number. I told him what she likes and what she doesn't like. She just agreed. What more could I want? I just didn't think I'd be here in the car, alone, picking up the two of them.
They were on their way over to me, so I'd drive less, maybe. I found out when I found them on the street, she was leaning against a building wall with her back to me and he was kissing her holding her hands. I could almost see their tongues intertwining. I could almost smell her nose. What she normally gives off when she's so excited and wet. The intimate smell of my woman, who he now kissed on her neck and made her keep her mouth open and moan.
I stopped the car and called them. In vain. I called them again. I called them again. I called my wife by her name, "Scarlett... Scarlett...?" Nothing. They were too busy. I could hear my wife's breath all the way into the car. He was making out with her obscenely in the street, and she, instead of being shy like she always was with me, was meowing loudly without restraint.
While two boys in their twenties were walking along the sidewalk next to them, curious to see how far they would go, Scarlett, who, contrary to what I thought, had noticed me, said to me "yes love, one minute and we're coming". Just as they were passing by, those two little boys, who looked at each other, giggling at me, for sure.
He opened the door for her and they got in the back of the car. While I was driving I had one eye on the road and one on the mirror, and I made a mistake three times. Pietro, our friend, kept telling me "what a superb wife you have. You are a lucky man. I won't make you regret having chosen me". And I didn't know what to expect any more than regret. True, it was a game and it would end, but I had totally lost control over her, over him, even over me. I didn't understand anymore. I just knew that everything that was happening was upsetting me; my guts were twisting while my dick was getting hard. And I still had no idea what was going to happen when I got to our house, to our marriage bed.
After a hairpin bend to the right, I went back to point the mirror, but she wasn't there. I couldn't see her anymore. There was only him, legs apart, holding his arms behind his head and moaning with his eyes closed. After another nice bend full of anxiety, I discovered that she was there, but as she was bent over, completely bent over him, intent on licking his cock, I couldn't see her. All I could see in the mirror was Pietro enjoying my wife's work. Among other things, he also had the opportunity to open his eyes, the pig, visually check how my Scarlett took care of his tool, see my reflected look and wink at me, as if to say "congratulations, she's really good".
I parked the car. We got out of the car and while I was making sure I locked the door, she came up behind me. She was holding his hand. With the other hand, she grabbed me under the chin and gave me a kiss. She was rubbing herself and kissing me without leaving Peter's hand. And I, instead of her usual feminine scent, smelled a different one on her. And her saliva was more acidulous than usual. It wasn't my Scarlett's smell. It was a mixture. "This is to show you how much I love you. Thanks again, love." She turned to him and walked arm in arm towards the front door, waiting for me to open. As we were entering Pietro said to me, with her who had slightly taken advantage up the stairs, "thank you Mirko, you are a friend. I'm going to fuck her for you tonight. I'll give you a great show," thanks to you, my friend, I thought. And I swallowed a litre of saliva.
Go on.
Mia Malkova
Renae Erica
Poke Bella
