Tuesday evening, when Felix made the suggestion, had burned itself into her memory like a glowing dagger. The remains of dinner still sat on the table, and he looked at her with that gaze that announced everything. “Let’s invite someone,” he said quietly. “Not just anyone. Someone who excites us both.” She had laughed at first, because it sounded absurd. But then she felt her body react differently—a tingling that spread all the way into her wet slit, a throbbing between her thighs that wouldn’t stop. And now, three weeks later, she stands in the kitchen of their apartment, the laughter of the guests filtering through the closed door, and Felix’s hand rests warm on her neck.
“Are you ready?” he whispers. His breath brushes her ear, a puff of air that raises the hairs on her neck and shoots straight into her soaking cunt. She nods, even though her heart hammers against her ribs like a trapped bird, and her pussy already begins to pulse with arousal. They’ve decided on a small house party—not too intimate, not too public. Just a dozen people, friends and acquaintances, and one that no one knows. Felix found him online, in a forum for like-minded people. “He’s experienced,” Felix had said. “And he knows what he’s getting into.” She had seen the profile picture: a man around forty, dark hair, a smile that radiated warmth even through the screen and already made her imagination play with his hard cock inside her. His name: Lukas.
She walks back into the living room. The air is thick with perfume and laughter, with sweat and red wine. Someone has put on music, quiet jazz that wraps around the guests’ legs like an invisible snake. Lena searches with her eyes. And then she sees him. Lukas leans against the windowsill, a glass of red wine in his hand. He wears a dark blue shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, the tendons of his forearms visible. His arms are muscular but not obtrusive. His gaze is intense, direct, and she feels her nipples harden beneath the fabric of her dress, her cunt growing wet, just from him looking at her. He notices her glance and nods almost imperceptibly. Felix squeezes her shoulder, a silent prompt, and his finger briefly brushes over her hard nipple, a promise.
She walks toward him. The other guests are chatting, no one pays attention to them. “Lena,” she says and extends her hand. He takes it, his fingers warm, the handshake firm, and she immediately feels a shiver run through her body, straight into her wet slit. “Lukas.” His voice is deep, calm, like distant thunder, and she imagines how he would moan her name when he comes inside her. “Felix has told me a lot about you.” She laughs nervously. “Only good things, I hope.” He smiles. “Nothing I didn’t already know.” His gaze travels down her body, slowly, savoringly, as if he were examining a painting—or her naked cunt, which he would soon lick. She wears a black dress that ends above the knees, a thin silver ring around her neck. She feels her nipples stiffen beneath the fabric, hardening against the tip, and her pussy beginning to drip with wetness.
The conversation flows on, small talk about music and travel. But beneath the surface, something else flows, a current of horniness that connects them, invisible and electric. Felix joins them, stands next to Lena, his hand resting on her hip, fingers playing with the hem of her dress. He talks to Lukas about the forum, about the rules they’ve agreed on. Lena only half listens. She watches Lukas’s lips, how they wrap around the glass, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. She catches herself wondering how those lips would taste on her cunt, whether they’d be soft or demanding, whether they’d push apart her wet lips and thrust his tongue deep inside her.
The Calm Before the Storm
Around midnight, the first guests say goodbye. The apartment grows quieter. Three or four people remain, chatting in a circle. Felix generously refills glasses, the red wine gurgling. Lena sits on the couch, Lukas next to her, Felix across from them. Her husband watches her, his hand resting on his knee, fingers drumming an impatient rhythm, and she sees him briefly stroke his pants—he’s already hard. She feels her husband’s gaze, knows what he’s thinking. Her pulse quickens, blood rushes in her ears, and her cunt gets so wet she can feel the sticky sensation on her thighs.
Lukas’s hand lies on the armrest, mere millimeters from her back. She can feel the warmth radiating from him, an invisible magnet pulling straight to her soaking wet cunt. “Should I show you the apartment?” she asks, her voice sounding strange in her own ears, hoarse and quiet, full of lust. He nods. She stands up, he follows, his shadow on the parquet. Felix’s eyes follow them, a smile playing on his lips, slow and knowing. He knows what will happen. She leads Lukas into the bedroom, the door clicks shut behind them. For a moment they stand facing each other, the air between them vibrating, full of unspoken words and unsatisfied desire. She can see his hard cock through his pants, a bulge staring at her.
“I want to kiss you,” he says. Not a question, a statement, an announcement. She nods, her mouth dry, her tongue sticking to her palate, but her cunt is ready. He steps closer, his hands find her hips, pull her gently toward him. When his lips touch hers, it’s soft, almost tender, a foreplay. But then the kiss becomes more demanding, his tongue seeks entry, and she opens to him. She tastes red wine and something salty, masculine, and she feels his tongue circle her lips before he thrusts it deep into her mouth. Her hands slide into his hair, softer than she expected, silky between her fingers. He presses her against the door, his body firm, warm, a shell of muscle. She feels his arousal, a hard pressure against her belly, penetrating through the fabric of their clothes—his cock pressing against her.
“I want to see you,” he murmurs against her mouth. He takes a step back, his fingers find the zipper of her dress. He pulls slowly, the teeth of the zipper making a soft sound, a metallic whisper. The dress falls to the floor, a black pool around her feet, and she stands before him in a black lace bra and panties. Her body is naked except for the delicate threads that wrap around it. His gaze is intense, hungry, as if he would devour her. “Beautiful,” he says, and the word slices through her, makes her cunt clench with emptiness, longing to be filled. He steps closer again, his hands find the clasp of her bra, open it with practiced ease. The straps slide down her shoulders, her breasts fall free, heavy and full, her nipples hard, dark points against her pale skin. He bends down, his mouth finds her nipple, his tongue circles it, and she gasps, her head falling back against the door, her fingers digging into his hair as a wave of heat shoots straight into her dripping cunt.
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