III: The Devouring Hour

Caught With Pants Down Epsiode 3

KAREN

Damon crashed onto the couch—the exact same plush leather I had been sinking into when I first walked in to watch them.

His cock went temporarily soft in his grip as he anchored himself to the armrest, desperately trying to drag his mind back to reality, back from the edge where the stars were shattering.

But over here, on the tangled sheets, Holly and I had already found our way back to each other.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around my throat, cutting off my airways just enough to make my vision blur, forcing me to cling to her for dear life. My nails dug into the smooth skin of her back as she held my chin up, tapping my cheeks with a demanding rhythm.

"How long does it take him to get it up?" Holly whispered, her voice a low, raspy purr meant for my ears alone.

"A few minutes," I breathed back, not even sparing Damon a glance. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if we completely drained him."

I didn’t need to look at him to know his eyes were glued to us, utterly entranced. And I knew my husband. He wouldn't need long.

I could practically feel the air vibrating with his arousal; I knew he was already throbbing, growing thicker and longer by the second. His cock would be heavy, veiny, and hungrier than it had been before we sucked him completely dry.

What he really needed time for was clawing his energy back.

"Let’s see how long he can stay away from us," Holly taunted, flashing a lust-filled, wicked glance in his direction.

Then, she pinned me to the mattress, devouring my body with her lips. Her mouth slid from my earlobes down the sensitive line of my collarbone, leaving a scorching, wet trail in its wake. She spat generously onto her fingers, slicking them before she began to torment my swollen clit, tracing a slow, crooked line down my arm with her other hand.

I shook violently beneath her, biting my bottom lip until it bled. Raising her hips, she used one hand to ruthlessly part my legs.

When her mouth hit my stomach, she began to bite.

Every nip was a spark of lightning striking my skin, setting my entire nervous system on fire. I was tingling, dying from the anticipation. Time stretched like flattery. I jerked against her at every agonizing touch, each point of contact reigniting the flame over and over again.

Holly hooked my legs over her shoulders, crawling her way up my body, her saliva glistening on my skin. I helped her yank my skirt over my head, rendering myself completely, beautifully nude. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to be inside her skin. I wanted us to fuse.

Holly was already five steps ahead of me.

She straddled me, aligning her body so perfectly that our folds merged in the absolute center of the bed. I rolled onto my side, giving her complete access as our thighs intertwined, scissoring in a desperate, friction-heavy rhythm. She rolled her hips hard against mine, the wet, slapping sound of our skin meeting filling the quiet room. My engorged clit rubbed relentlessly against hers, sending waves of pure, electric ecstasy squirming through my core.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I rocked my hips to meet her pace, demanding more. Holly fisted her hands into her own hair, yanking it back as she pinched her own nipples. They hardened into tight peaks as she accelerated the friction.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Damon finally move. He stood up, stroking his length. He was rock-hard again, having completely stepped out of his pants. He’d left his shirt on—unbuttoned, hanging open to frame his flexing biceps. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his cock glistening with the sheen of our combined spit.

Before I could focus on him, Holly crashed her lips onto mine, violently stealing my attention back.

I locked her close, our bodies slamming together, our slick juices sliding down our bare thighs. Two women making magic—our bodies a living, breathing sculpture of sin. We ground our hips, we moaned, we cried out, we made love, we bit. We gasped with open lips, barely able to catch a single lungful of air.

Breathing didn't matter. She was my oxygen.

We chased the edge together, climbing closer and closer until we shattered. We built the wave as one, and we crashed all over again. My legs gave out, partly from the ache, but mostly from the sheer, blinding pleasure rippling through me.

But Holly wouldn't let me rest. She kept going, her fingers working, forcing me to look at her. She loved to be watched. It had been right there on her dating bio: Exhibitionist. I love it when you watch me.

Now, I knew it wasn't a bluff.

It was a fair trade, because she saw me too, the darkest, deepest parts of me where the light could never reach.

"He doesn't deserve you," Holly whispered, her ragged breath hot against my face. She grunted, plunging her hips closer, hugging me so tight I could feel her heartbeat. "You deserve so much better, Karen. Don’t you ever forget that."

My body trembled, and a hot tear slipped from my eye. I didn't even realize I was crying until I tasted the salt that had rolled down my cheek, until Holly leaned down and licked it away with a dazzling, wicked smile. Finally, she gave in, her thighs trembling as she collapsed against me, our drenched pussies slamming together one last time in defeat.

Then, Damon moved in.

He ruthlessly hauled me out from under Holly, grabbing my hips and lifting my ass high into the air. There was no need for lube; I was dripping with the combined flavors of Holly and myself.

Damon aligned his crown and pushed his way into me in one deep, brutal stroke.

My clit jumped with electric shock, my defenses instantly shattering into a squirming, helpless mess. I hadn't even had time to breathe through the orgasm Holly had just wrenched from me. Her heavy words hadn't even landed properly in my brain before Damon bent his upper body, pressing his hard chest flat against my back.

"I love you, baby," Damon confessed, his breath scorching my ear.

I shivered, my body melting into his out of sheer, addictive familiarity. He filled me completely, leaving absolutely no room to spare as he dug deep into my insides. I could feel him in the pit of my stomach; I could feel his cock twitching inside my walls as they squeezed him in a vice grip.

Damon gripped my ass cheeks, bruising them as he continued to slam himself into me. Each heavy thrust forced me to stretch, to open up, to accommodate every single inch he was giving me. I gripped the headboard, my fingers burying into the wood. Sweat slicked our skin. The air conditioner was blasting, but it was no match for the raw, suffocating passion in the room.

Damon’s low grunts filled my ears. I arched my back further, letting him ram relentlessly into my core. I turned my head to look at him just once.

The sight was majestic. Veins pulsed on his forehead, and his dark curls fell over his shoulders, desperate for a haircut. He plunged his nails into my waist, and I screamed. My moans filled the room, mixing with his gutteral grunts and the filthy words spilling from his lips.

"Take it like a good girl, baby. Take it so good," Damon growled. "Who’s daddy’s favorite whore?"

He wrapped his hand around my throat, squeezing. I choked, unable to find my words for a hot, breathless minute. His thrusts turned beastly, his grunts sounding like a low, primitive cry from his chest as he curved his spine over mine.

"Who’s daddy’s favorite whore, huh?!" he demanded.

"You, daddy! Fuck yes, just like that. Don't you fucking stop!" I twisted my neck to look him dead in the eye, repeating my words slower, deeper, darker. "Don’t you dare stop right now, Damon. You owe me this."

My words carried more truth than just the filthy affair we were having.

Damon held on for as long as he could, baring his teeth, trying to fight the wave. But it was too late. He was shaking, groaning out a deep, agonizing release. His body caved against mine as he filled me to the brim, going instantly limp inside me.

"Fuck!" his breathless curse echoed in my ears.

It satisfied me for a split second, until the lingering irritation crept back.

"Catch up when you can," Holly voiced smoothly.

As Damon crashed onto the mattress, his breaths coming in fast, uneven gasps, Holly was already on her feet. She buckled a leather harness around her waist, a thick, dark dildo protruding from her hips as she led me toward the heavy wooden table.

Tugging my hair sharply behind my ears, Holly leaned down and whispered into my neck. "I told you. You're way too much woman for him."

Very slowly, she pushed the vibrating tip against my entrance and slid it up my soaking walls. I clenched around it instantly, its deep, mechanical pulse dragging wicked sensations straight from my core, syncing perfectly with my racing heartbeat.

As I looked at my exhausted husband and his voracious mistress, only one thought consumed my mind: It was utterly intoxicating to be passed around like this. And God help me, I could never get enough of this arrangement.