Sometimes, when writing my books, I find my self imagining future explicit scenes before I can actually write them. I am a linear writer. This means I write from beginning to end without jumping around and writing random scenes for later. That ma...
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Niya
We didn't talk about what happened, about what we saw, and what we did. But we thought about it, at least I know I did.
The hard length of his cock being stroked by his big hand, how thick he looked, and how turned on I was as I watched him. The orgasm that shook me afterwards was stronger than any I'd had in a long time, and it's not like Aaron was skimping in that department.
The next few days were awkward, but not unbearable. I went about my daily routine, and stayed out of his way. But in my alone time, I fantasized about that night. I daydreamed about all of us together. Aaron, my gorgeous husband, pistoning inside of me as Logan watched.
Most of the time, when those fantasies took hold, I'd go into my room and stroke myself until I came all over my fingers. But this time, when it hit, I was in the laundry room switching loads.
I bent over to put a handful of damp clothes into the dryer, and instantly the memory of Aaron fucking me while Logan watched, crashed into my thoughts. I groaned in frustration, and I rubbed my thighs tightly together to try and soothe my aching clit. But it wasn't enough.
Reaching for my stretch pants, I pulled them down and kicked them into a corner for retrieval later. Then after closing the door, I hopped up onto the dryer, my warm cheeks hitting the cold metal. I sighed at the mental image of Logan slapping my ass and put my hand between my legs, parting the folds.
I let my head fall back as my fingers applied pressure in firm but gentle circles over my clit and felt the walls, just inside my pussy, clench in anticipation.
I stroked and massaged my clit as I imagined a hot three way with Aaron and Logan, and me in the middle. Hands on my waist, and hands wrapped in my hair. One cock thrusting into my pussy from behind, the other stretching my mouth.
I moaned out loud and leaned back on my free hand to push my hips up into the hand that was working circles over my clit. I could feel the entrance of my pussy opening and cold air chilling my moist entrance and brought the tips of my fingers down through the slit of my folds to toy at the entrance of my womanhood.
I teased and pushed, not quite allowing myself to enter my own pussy, heightening and extending the pleasure I was feeling. The orgasm would be stronger the longer I held out.
Just as I slammed my finger, full depth into my pussy, just as a moan loud enough to wake the dead echoed from my throat, Logan walked in.
