Three - by Invitation Only E-Book

Neale Sourna

• Herausgeber: PIE: Perception Is Everything
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 47

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

A sexy woman, a nameless man; she picks him up, as her husband watches, then she invites the new man to enjoy sex with them in their wealthy suburban home.
Swingers, three-way sex, and more.

Leseprobe

Neale Sourna

Three - by Invitation Only

First published by PIE: Perception Is Everything 2020

Copyright © 2020 by Neale Sourna

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 978-1-938903-41-0

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com

Story also available in

Libidinous 1 / 1A

by Neale Sourna

Cover Photos Licensed from iStockPhoto.com

Library of Congress story registration 2002

Original Story Copyright 2000

“Doing for the mind, what the body shouldn’t.”SM

“Thoughtful Entertainment You Can FEEL.”SM

Contents

I watched them flirting...

I wanted her in the car, but...

Our Wedding Sex Story

Remember the new man?

Sandy’s Shop Window Sex Display

But, before I get to correct our new man and...

My Anal Punishment for Sandy

Our present house guest was past his point...

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I watched them flirting...

I watched them flirting for an hour or more, and was starting to get a seriously impatient hard-on, the kind you need to shoot off, in the proper setting—buried deep in her exquisite, humid pleasure mine.

I was past my limit for waiting. Which I hate, and she knows it.

It’d been two whole days, and nights (which is long for us).

“Hiatuses are good”, she says.

I say, “Hiatus bad, fucking Sandy till she whimpers and gasps, is good. Real good.”

Before, at home, she’d cracked her dressing door open, while we’d gotten ready, separately; that’s so I can’t touch her.

“It’d ruin the game, of anticipation,” she says.

However, I may watch her dress, stepping into stilettos, slinking into a shapely silk dress. Beneath that, her glorious brown skin only. No underwear, usually, not when we go hunting; just fruit oils, different scents and flavors, massaged all over her highly responsive body, while in front of the full length, triple mirror; my gift.

A triptych of Sandra; there are much worse things to see in this life.

Plus, she enjoys watching me watching her; and drooling, anticipating, waiting….

Getting that aforementioned hard-on.

Yes, she’s got a tad bit of a mean streak. What guy doesn’t love that in a hot lady, who seriously “puts out”?

Okay, so, it’s a little difficult getting my shit together, dressing myself, when Sandy’s luxuriating at some of my most favorite parts of her:

the firm, round underside of her delight-filled ass;

her, too big for her hands but not mine, firm yet perfectly weighted, “hello, see me, boys” breasts;

and her delicious, hot, juicy box.

Yummy. Yummy.

She dawdles there, fingering, rubbing the oils into her sacred mound, and down between—.

She makes me suffer, isolates me from her, does it ’cause she likes seeing and feeling me hungering for her, because I can’t have her, yet, and because I like watching her liking it.

In truth, I love her making me suffer, just a bit, and postponing fulfilling my lust for her; a little.

In the present, though, Sandy was making this guy suffer and really getting to this new man we’d found, badly. The guy’s breathing was getting deep, intense, and he had that look, you know the one, the one you—males at least—get when you really want some, as your expanding cock snakes down your panted thigh, seeking some hot, wet—.

Fucking tell me about it.

Unfortunately, someone was, again, trying to blow into my ear, buzzing “about a little one on one fun, just the two of us”; but, I didn’t care about their disappointment, because my lust was across the crowded room, calling to me; so, I followed it.

The two of them were nestled so close together, he had to’ve felt my hard knuckles graze him as I cupped her silk covered silken bush, signaling to her that “We are leaving. Now.”

I looked back and saw her slip him a card and whisper in his ear, before following me; whatever it was, it evidently short-circuited his brain for a few.

Hah.

Welcome to my world, bitch, I thought to him.

I’ve seen the girl say the most innocent thing in a full room; usually followed by the tight creaking of zippers maxing out and even a few suddenly dripping cunts sighing and crossing their thighs to better savor the moment.

We were leaving alone, but … not alone.

* * * *

I wanted her in the car, but...

I wanted her in the car, but she said it’d “be better, if we” waited. More fucking waiting. But, okay, Sandy’s always right. So, I waited, again.

Barely.

Why?

Because she’d propped her doorside, strappy stiletto on the dash, with her skirt slithering off those great thighs; revealing her soft, full bush, smelling of cherry almond mixed with randy Sandy scent from just-flirting-and-mind-fucking-some-new-man-in-a-room-full-of-friends-and-strangers.

All the way home, I couldn’t keep my hand out of her hot, wet cunt. I love it when her box is burning and swollen slick; grasping tight around my fingertips.

She sighed, groaned, whatever; it was a delicious sound, as she shoved my fist in deeper, her thighs holding me fast, as my selfish girl humped and wiggled on several of my digits.