Hunter
I had the sex dungeon planned long before I knew I’d be instigating sex between my wife and best friend. I assumed when I booked it that Isabel and I would wear the master bedroom out while Drake found himself some company for the spare bedroom, like he so often does.
Now I’m picturing her cuffed to the spanking bench with his cock down her throat, and I’m not sure what the fuck is wrong with me…because that image is amazing. It’s the only reason I don’t have an appetite for food and keep glancing back and forth between them and waiting for the moment when I can appropriately tell them to take their clothes off and start fucking.
But things are strangely loaded between them now. Not in a bad way, in more of a serious way. I don’t know why Isabel wouldn’t have known Drake would remember her coconut allergy. Maybe that comes from a childhood of being mostly forgotten and ignored. I’ve spent the last decade drilling it into her head—the ones who love you, show it.
And still, she acts so surprised that the guy who’s been around her as much as I have in the past ten years remembers that she has a food allergy. I bet she’d be shocked to learn that he also knows her favorite movie is Empire Records. Her favorite song is “Hallelujah” and her favorite flavor of ice cream is butter pecan.
Drake knows almost as much about her as I do. And as of this week, he knows her as intimately as I do too.
I notice Isabel is picking at her food now, paying more attention to her margarita than her dinner, which means she’s trying to loosen up as well. I glance up at the clock and see it’s a little after nine.
“I need a shower,” Drake announces after his food is gone.
“Me too,” she replies, putting her uneaten takeout in the fridge. A slow, evil smirk stretches across my face.
“Well, this place might have two beds…but it only has one shower.”
Drake pauses midway to the bathroom and stares at me. “Oh really?”
I nod. “Afraid so.”
Isabel is biting her lip, staring back and forth between me and Drake.
“Well, okay then. What do you say, coconuts? Want to get clean before we get dirty?”
“Umm…” she barely gets a response out before he’s hoisting her out of her chair, throwing her over his shoulder and carting her to the bathroom off the hallway. In no hurry, I pour myself a shot of tequila and take one slow sip after another until it’s gone, allowing the liquid to burn its way down my throat. I like the idea of letting them get warmed up before the good stuff.
“This thing is huge!” Isabel calls, letting out a giggle after the words leave her mouth, and I smile, imagining what Drake might be doing to make her laugh. I love her tipsy giggles. My girl’s no lightweight, but after just one drink, her smile and her laughter take on a new cuteness that is both sweet and sexy at the same time.
“I assume you’re talking about the shower,” I reply with a smile, pouring myself a second shot.
“I was,” she calls.
I hear the water running, muffling the sounds of their voices, so I can’t make out what they’re saying. Until she calls out again, “Big enough for three…” She draws out the word in a sultry sing-songy tone, like a siren calling me to the depths of the ocean.
I’m frozen in place as I stare down at the amber liquid in the glass in my hand. Should I join them? Do I want to? Assuming it’s just a shower…is that crossing a line with Drake? We are still just friends, and it would be very out of character to shower together.
But maybe we’re not just friends anymore. I’ve watched him fuck my wife. I’ve laid in bed with him and seen him naked—and erect. I mean…I know I wouldn’t feel weird being naked in a shower with him, but would he feel the same? I have to be careful with his emotions, as much as I have to be careful with Isabel’s. I’m the one making requests of them, and I’m not going to do anything to hurt either one.
“Was that an invitation?” I reply after the bathroom grows quiet.
“You’re quick,” Drake replies in a sarcastic tone, and I roll my eyes before gulping down the second glass of tequila.
“Listen,” I say as I stand from my seat and head toward the bathroom. “There are too many paddles and whips in this apartment for you to be getting snarky with me—” The moment I reach the bathroom, I freeze, the words falling from my lips as I stare through the steam at a fully naked Drake, leaning against the tiles of the giant shower, stroking his quickly growing cock as he stares at Isabel, who is standing under the spray of water.
My eyes rake over his body, watching the water from the showerhead on his side cascade over the muscles of his broad frame. He’s so tall, he almost has to duck his head. But my eyes aren’t on his head. They’re on the languid strokes of his hand.
“You comin’?” he asks, looking at me as if this is completely normal. He’s staring at me…and his hand is still moving.
Suddenly, my cock is twitching in my pants, throbbing as it fills and presses painfully against my zipper.
“Yeah…I guess,” I stutter, pulling off my shirt and draping it neatly over the rim of the sink. Next, I ease down the zipper of my jeans, wondering if he notices how hard I am already, just from watching him stroke himself.
Anyone would get hard from that, right?
Of course…not everyone secretly wonders how nice it might be to reach out and touch it. How another man’s cock feels in your own hand. How it tastes.
Fuck—a lightning strike hits the base of my spine and my cock twitches at the thought.
As I step toward the shower, Drake steps aside, pressing Isabel between us as I move under the hot spray of water. It’s truly a big enough shower for three people to stand in here without touching, but where’s the fun in that?
As I rinse my hair, trying to stay as composed as possible, no longer bothering to hide the hard length jutting out from my hips, Drake runs his hands over Isabel’s wet body. She hums as he tweaks her nipples. With their eyes on me, both of them fondle and caress each other, not doing anything other than touching—and driving me insane.
Is it weird to feel like the third wheel when it’s your best friend and wife?
“All right, you two. Dry off and get out. Meet me in the spare bedroom.”
Isabel bites her lip as she smiles at me. Then, I step out of the shower, grab a towel and resist the urge to stroke myself as I dry off. We have a potentially long night ahead of us…if I can keep it together.
After a quick dry-off, I leave them in the shower and head down the hall toward the spare bedroom—with a quick detour to the tequila bottle, of course. In the room, I browse through the cabinets and drawers. I know what I have in mind tonight, but I don’t know if they will be into it. It’s not really Drake’s style.
So I pick out a few of the easier toys. No need to go crazy this time around. A red leather paddle with a lot of flex. A soft leather flogger for sensation. My experience with these things goes about as far as the research for the club. This isn’t something Isabel and I have tried yet, mostly because I don’t have it in me to hurt her. Too much trauma in my history, but Drake could—if she wants it.
I’m holding the paddle when they finally walk in, still naked. Isabel is behind him with her hands on his waist, stroking his bare skin with intimacy, and something strange strikes me at that moment. Something I can’t define.
This whole time I’ve been more turned on than jealous at the sight of them touching each other, but suddenly, seeing just how comfortable they are together, the feeling has changed. Just a little but the shift from arousal to envy is there.
Shrugging off the hesitation, I move silently across the room. Pulling Isabel from behind Drake, I lead her toward the bench. With her cheeks flushed red from the shower and a sheen of sweat across her forehead, she’s so breathtaking, I can’t help myself as I pull her in for a kiss. On instinct, she melts into my arms.
“Do you know what this is, baby?”
Her eyes dance over the bench, the four cuffs attached to the head and foot on each side, and I spot the twinkle of curiosity in her expression. Lips parted, she nods.
“Drake is going to strap you to this bench and spank you for all the dirty things you’ve done. How does that sound?” I mutter lowly in her ear.
There’s a slight hitch in her breath.
“While you watch?” she asks, her round green eyes finding mine.
“Yes, baby. I’ll be in that chair, watching him make you scream.”
The corner of her mouth lifts as her hand unexpectedly takes a hold of my cock. I let out a grunt as my knees go weak. She tugs a long stroke of my dick, pulling me closer to her as she says, “Don’t touch yourself while you watch. I want you to hold out for me.”
With a growl, I cover her hand with mine. “My filthy girl. You’re getting an extra stroke for that.”
As Isabel and I pull away from each other, I look at Drake, who’s touching his lips as he stares at her, pinching the bottom one and rolling it in a way that makes me feel something I shouldn’t.
“What do you think? Is this a good plan for you?” I ask him.
Suddenly, his arm is around Isabel, tugging her closer as he buries his face in her neck. She lets out a yelp as his giant body engulfs her tiny one.
“Punish this dirty girl while you watch? It would be my pleasure.”
“You’ll need a safe word, Red,” I say, but she cuts me off before I have a chance to suggest one.
“Namaste.”
My head tilts to the side as Drake lets out a light chuckle.
“Okay, then.” By the time I sit in the chair across the room, Isabel is already climbing up onto the bench. With her belly and chest against the high part, she easily rests her knees and hands against the lower ledges, and Drake takes his time cuffing her wrists and ankles. There’s a look of eager anticipation on her face as she squirms with each lock of the cuffs.
I keep glancing back at the small dish on the dresser labeled Spanking Bench Keys, as if they’re going to magically float away and my wife will forever be stuck to this sex device.
She’s facing me on the bench, so I don’t get a good look at her backside, but this view is enough. Her head and ass are in prime locations for access and she has little to no mobility, something I’d say she’s enjoying by the salacious gleam in her eye.
“How does that feel, baby?” I ask from the chair.
“It feels good,” she replies, squirming against the bench, her voice going a little deeper and quieter than normal. She’s ready.
“How many?” Drake asks as if he already knows I call the shots.
“Let’s start with six on each side.”
I watch Isabel’s fists clench on either side of the bench as Drake readies himself. He massages her ass a little before rearing back and laying one back-handed smack with the paddle against her left cheek. She lets out a high-pitched hum as her eyes lift up to gaze at me.
Drake rubs the other cheek with the face of the paddle before rearing back and smacking again. She squeals again, squirming even more.
“That’s one, baby,” I say, my voice starting to strain with the need to touch myself.
Drake smacks her again on each side for number two, and her reactions stay the same, but I notice the new color in her cheeks and chest.
“I think she can take it a little harder,” I say, and he looks down at her and then at me as he strokes a soft hand down her spine.
“Does this dirty girl want it a little harder?” he asks.
She nods without hesitation. “Yes, please,” she whispers in a low, raspy tone.
When Drake lays into her for the next round, smacking her so hard I see a flash of fear in her eyes before she lets out a long, guttural cry, I find it painstakingly hard to keep my hand off my cock. It’s leaking at the tip, throbbing a little more, as he spanks her hard again for number three.
“That’s my girl.” I groan, gripping the arm of the chair.
“I think she wants it hard again,” Drake says, reaching all the way across her body to dig his fingers in her hair. She yelps as he pulls. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she cries out.
And he does, the sound of the paddle hitting her flesh making me wince. She cries louder this time, her legs starting to tremble with each hard smack. When he does the other side, my cock leaks a dot of cum from the tip, and I watch it slide down the head.
The next two rounds go by in a blur, and I can focus on nothing but her face, the expression of pain mixed with lust and need, a look of feral craving that I’ve never seen before. And just when he gets to six, I’m about to tell him to stop, that I can’t take anymore, but I realize he’s done when he tosses the paddle on the bed and massages her ass cheeks with his bare hands.
She flinches and yelps as he grabs her sore flesh in his tight grip, but I can tell by the look on her face when he runs his fingers along a spot she likes.
“She must have liked that. She’s practically dripping.”
“Then, I think she earned an orgasm. Make her come, Drake.”
He smiles wickedly at me as he drops to his knees behind her, running his tongue along the length of her, from her clit to her asshole. She cries out, fighting against the restraints now.
She watches me as he licks her pussy, sucking on her clit and thrusting his tongue inside her. But I can tell by the restless way she fidgets, that it’s not what she wants.
“What is it, baby? What do you want Drake to do?”
Biting her lip and trying to hide her blush, she stares at me and meekly cries, “Fuck me.”
I smile, watching as he rises to a standing position. “Your girl has a dirty fucking mouth.”
“Yes, she does. Fucking filthy,” I reply.
She squirms some more, as if she’s trying to find his dick.
“I mean, look at her,” Drake says, teasing her with his hands around her backside. “Cuffed to this bench like a little slut, begging for dick.”
I lick my lips, his dirty talk going straight to my cock.
And as he continues, I nearly lose my breath. “She almost sounds like she needs two cocks.”
Isabel immediately hums in response.
“You liked the sound of that, didn’t you?” he asks.
“Yes,” she begs, looking straight at me.
As Drake reaches behind him to the drawer of condoms, I rise from my seat and move toward her. She smiles up at me, looking wicked as sin as I take her hair in my hand, leaning down so I can kiss her on the lips before I move her mouth toward my waiting cock.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” she cries.
Her right hand barely hangs over the edge of the bench and I gently place my leg where she can feel it. While Drake gets himself situated, I lean down and kiss her again.
“Tap my leg if it’s too much, okay?”
She gives me a secret smile, squeezing my thigh between her fingers as she agrees.
Looking up at Drake, I watch as he aligns his cock at the same time that I move mine past the ring of her lips, both of us plunging inside her. She squeals, her voice muffled by my dick.
It’s an obscene sight, this beautiful woman, taking two dicks at once. I wasn’t supposed to do this. I was supposed to be watching Drake fuck her, but now…as I see her strapped to this bench, I wonder if I didn’t subconsciously have this planned all along.
Her mouth is like heaven, tongue out and lips parted as I fuck her throat. When she gags, I pull back, stroking her chin. Her hand still rests with assurance against my leg.
“Jesus, Red. Look at you,” I mutter, staring at the way Drake is thrusting hard into her from behind. “You look fucking beautiful like this, taking our cocks like the dirty girl you are.”
“She’s our dirty girl,” Drake replies, his voice strained from the exertion. And I look down at Isabel as he says that. Did she hear it? That she’s ours, not just mine. Because she is ours, and I want her to be ours.
I could stay like this forever, sharing this moment with the two people I love the most. Drake’s eyes are on me, his fingers digging into her soft hips as he makes her scream around my cock. We are relentless and so in sync, and there’s something fucking surreal about finding your pleasure in not just one, but two other people. And knowing they’re finding theirs too.
It could be the euphoria of this moment or being on vacation and far from reality, but I suddenly realize that I do want her to be ours. His as much as mine.
Maybe she always has been.
His thrusts pick up speed, so I match his tempo, intent on timing my release with his. And I can tell by the way his eyes close and his grip tightens that he’s close. But I don’t make it.
With that thought, I lose control, shooting everything down the back of her throat, emptying my cock onto her tongue as she stares up at me. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she swallows, and I wipe away the bit that drips down her chin. Behind her, Drake still thrusts slowly.
Pulling away from her mouth, I stroke her cheek, admiring the fact that I have the most amazing fucking girl in the world. And I want my best friend to have that too.
