The hotel bed was too soft, the pillows too fluffy, and yet I lay there as if on hot coals. My husband’s best friend would walk in any moment, and I had asked him to come. No, I had begged him, in whispered nights after Tom had fallen asleep and I lay awake, rubbing my thighs until the sheets grew damp.
It had started on a Tuesday evening three weeks ago. Lukas sat in our kitchen, beer bottle in hand, his jokes about monogamy growing sharper. “Eventually it gets boring,” he said, looking me straight in the eyes, so deep that I couldn’t return the gaze. “Eventually you know every spot, every move, every moan. Then you need something new.” Tom, my husband, just smiled. That calm, knowing smile I knew so well. “Maybe you’re right,” he said softly. And then, turning to me: “What do you think, Lara? Should we give it a try with Lukas?” I laughed then—an embarrassed, too-hasty laugh that got stuck in my throat.
But the laughter died when Tom brought up the topic again and again in the following nights. In bed, after we had made love, he whispered in my ear: “Imagine he would look at you. The way I look at you. Imagine his hands touching you.” I felt the thought arousing me, and I hated myself for it. But the idea wouldn’t let go of me. It nested in, thrived in my dreams, until one night I said to Tom: “Maybe we really should do it.”
The Arrival
The hotel was chosen by Tom. An old, dignified house on the outskirts with dark wood furniture and heavy velvet curtains. Suite 407, on the fourth floor, overlooking the park. I stood at the window when Lukas arrived. He wore a dark coat, underneath a light shirt open at the collar. His movements were casual as he tossed his bag on the bed. “Well, are you ready for our little game?” he asked. There was a warmth in his voice that made me shiver.
Tom stepped behind me, placed his hands on my shoulders. “Lara is ready,” he said. “We’ve discussed the rules. You know what you’re allowed to do.” Lukas nodded. He took off his coat and sank into an armchair. “Then show her to me,” he said softly. “Just as she is when you’re alone.” Tom turned me to face him. His eyes sought mine, and I saw the excitement in them, mixed with a tenderness that moved me. “Do you trust me?” he asked. I nodded. Then he began to undress me.
His fingers were steady as he unbuttoned my blouse, one by one. The fabric slid from my shoulders, fell to the floor. I stood there, only in black lace bra and matching panties, feeling Lukas’s gaze on my skin. It was a different look than Tom’s. More probing. More desiring. It made my blood flow faster.
Tom knelt before me, opened the clasp of my bra, let it fall too. Then he ran his hands over my breasts, slowly, almost reverently. “Do you see,” he said to Lukas, “how soft her skin is? How it feels?” Lukas didn’t answer. He sat there, hands on the armrests, watching. His breathing was shallow, but he didn’t move.
I closed my eyes and focused on Tom’s touches. His fingertips stroked over my nipples, which hardened instantly under his touch. A soft moan escaped me. Lukas’s gaze burned on me, and I felt my skin begin to glow under that look. Tom leaned forward and took one nipple into his mouth, playing with his tongue while his hand massaged the other. I grabbed his hair and pulled him tighter against me. “Yes,” I whispered. “Just like that.”
Lukas cleared his throat. “May I come closer?” he asked. Tom released me, looked over at him. “Not yet,” he said. “I want you to watch. Only when I say so may you touch her.” Lukas nodded, leaned back, but his eyes followed every movement.
Tom stood up and pulled me to the bed. He laid me on the soft blanket and knelt between my legs. His hands slid up my thighs, pushed the panties aside. “Look here,” he said to Lukas. “See how wet she is.” His fingers dipped into me, and I arched up. “Oh God, Tom,” I gasped. “Please…” He smiled, pulled his fingers out, and licked them. “Tastes good,” he stated. “But tonight, you won’t come from me.”
The Touch
Tom pulled my panties all the way down, helped me step out of my shoes. Then he straightened up and kissed me—a long, probing kiss that tasted of salt and promise. “Now sit with Lukas,” he said. “Let him touch you, however he wants.” I walked to the chair where Lukas sat, hesitated briefly, then sat on his lap. His hands immediately found my back, pulling me closer. “You smell good,” he murmured. “Like vanilla and something heavy.” I closed my eyes and felt his lips on my neck, his warm breath. His hand slid over my back, lower, cupping my ass. He pressed me against him, and I felt his arousal through the fabric of his pants.
Tom sat on the edge of the bed and watched us. His hand lay loosely in his lap, but I knew he was hard too. “Tell me how it feels,” he asked softly. “When Lukas touches you.” Lukas’s fingers found the wet slit between my legs and stroked over it, still hesitant. “She’s already wet,” said Lukas. “Pretty wet for someone who was doubting just an hour ago.” I felt the blush rise to my face, but the shame was sweet, mingled with the lust.
Lukas’s thumb circled over my clit, first gently, then firmer. I gasped softly and dug my nails into his shoulders. “She likes that,” he stated, a hint of pride in his voice. “She’s already trembling.” I felt a knot tighten inside me, a first flicker of something that would grow bigger. But Tom shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We have time. All we need is time.”
Lukas’s hand wandered deeper, one finger slid into me. I moaned and pressed against his hand. “So tight,” he murmured. “So hot.” He added a second finger and moved them slowly inside me. I felt myself clench around him, the lust swelling. “Tom,” I gasped. “Can I…?” Tom shook his head. “Not yet. You’re to wait until we’re all ready.” Lukas smiled and pulled his fingers out. He licked them, savoring. “I could get used to this taste,” he said.
Tom stood up and came to us. He knelt behind
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