I reached between my legs and plunged two fingers into my cunt. I was hot and sticky and wet and achingly empty. Watching El-Mudad’s cock disappearing down Neil’s throat made my own parch; I wanted to slake my thirst with the perspiration rising on El-Mudad’s ribs.
I was so focused on his body I didn’t notice the way he’d focused on me. “Sophie…let me taste you.”
I brought my fingers to his mouth. He swirled his tongue around them and sucked rhythmically, and I wondered if he mimicked what Neil did to his cock. The thought made my thighs squeeze together.
“If you want a taste…” I climbed onto my knees to straddle his face, turning myself so I could still watch Neil. El-Mudad’s hands went to my hips to pull me down. I moaned at the first touch of his mouth, and Neil glanced up. Our eyes met, and the heat already scorching my body from the inside intensified. I knew he loved giving me pleasure, getting me off, but seeing him do it for someone else was almost more erotic than having it done to me.
And this could be us—the three of us—all the time.
The emotion that welled in my chest was something between wonder and lust. Was wonderlust a thing?
El-Mudad’s tongue slid up and down my clit, pausing to delve into my pussy, every now and then. His vocal responses to Neil’s attention vibrated through my pelvis.
“Whatever you just did, do it, again,” I panted. “Both of you.”
The corners of Neil’s eyes crinkled. He would have been smiling, if his mouth hadn’t been so busy with other things.
El-Mudad pushed me up, breathing heavy. “No, don’t do it, again, or I’ll come before we even get started,” he protested. He slapped my ass playfully. “Get off.”
“I was trying to,” I whined.
“Neil could take over,” El-Mudad suggested.
I fell onto my back and spread my legs wide.
“That’s quite the invitation.” Neil still stroked El-Mudad’s erection. He released him to situate himself between my legs.
El-Mudad sat up, and I frowned. “What are you going to do?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he crawled to the end of the bed and held up the plug.
Oh. Yes.
Some of my turn-ons surprised me. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me that I would like seeing any man, let alone my husband, getting fucked by another man. Now, it was one of the most erotic things I fantasized about. Watching that fantasy play out in front of my eyes, where I could participate? Perfection.
Neil parted me with his thumbs and gave me a long, teasing lick that barely exerted any pressure. I whined and lifted my hips, which only made him do it, again.
“Come on,” I begged, rocking against his face. “He got me so close.”
“I feel as though I’m doing quite a bit more work here than the two of you,” Neil pretended to grumble. “At least, my jaw does.”
“Stop complaining.” El-Mudad gave Neil a light slap on his behind, and my eyes went wide in delighted shock. Seeing Neil reprimanded during sex was like seeing a unicorn or something. Seeing him comply with an order was just as rare.
“You look very pleased about something,” he said, but before I could find a smart answer, he bent his head and dove right in. No teasing, no warm-up, just his mouth fixed directly on my aching clit and his tongue flicking in a maddening pattern.
El-Mudad reached for the lube, and I fought to keep my eyes open, though all I wanted to do was give up and lose myself in the warm, wet pleasure of Neil’s mouth. I squirmed my hips a little in Neil’s grasp as I watched El-Mudad drizzle the lube into his cupped hand. He used so much, I hoped we had another bottle. But as Neil always said, better too much than too little, where anal was concerned.
Neil moaned against me at the touch of El-Mudad’s hand. I nudged Neil with my knee when it appeared he’d become too preoccupied.
“Hey.” I snapped my fingers in front of Neil’s face. “Concentrate.”
“Oh, because you exhibit such intense focus when I’m fingering your ass,” he shot back. A shiver ran through him, and he let out a long exhale.
I reached down and ran my hand through the silvery strands of his hair. “I do concentrate. On the fingering.”
“Exactly.” But he dropped his head, again, and got back to work.
This kind of sex—playful, casual, almost conversational—was so different from what I usually engaged in with Neil. Not that I didn’t love the intensity and challenge of our Dom/sub relationship. Our sex life was fulfilling in ways I’d never experienced with other partners. But this kind of sex? This no commands, just good feelings time? I could get behind more of this.
Of course, I would still need my Sir. I would still need that dark warning tone in Neil’s voice and the sharp red edge of pain that I craved. But there was room in my sex life for both.