Adrian moves next to me. He’s still fully hard. The man didn’t come during the window scene, and he’s been standing there watching Tony fuck me with the patience of a man who’s in no hurry. Tony grabs my forearms, pulling them behind my back and using them to swivel me and arch my body upward until Adrian’s cock is right at my lips.
“Open.” Adrian’s command is flat and simple.
I open my mouth, and he feeds his cock past my lips. I taste myself on him, salty, slick, and the filthiness of it makes the room spin. Not the taste. The situation. I’ve got two men stuffing me from both ends in a casino office on the top floor of a building that overlooks downtown Seattle. Mrs. Robert Matthews is getting spit-roasted by men who think she can’t afford to pay her gambling debts.
If anyone from the Wellington Foundation could see me now. Catherine Wellington would choke on her Chardonnay, and Shannon Matthews, chair of the annual gala committee, would be too busy moaning around a cock to care.
They find a rhythm. Adrian pushes in as Tony pulls out. It’s a constant, overwhelming fullness that leaves no space for rational thought. Adrian’s cock slides deeper into my throat than I expect, and I relax into it, letting him use my mouth like it’s just a hole for his pleasure.
Because it is. That’s what I am right now. A married woman with a cock in her mouth and another in her pussy, and my body has never been more alive.
Here’s the thing nobody tells you about being fucked from both ends: your brain has to choose which cock to focus on, and mine keeps switching. Tony hits a spot that makes stars bloom behind my eyes and I lose track of Adrian’s rhythm, then Adrian thrusts deep enough to make me gag and suddenly Tony’s cock is background music. It’s like trying to listen to two songs at once. My pussy is handling the logistics better than my brain is, clenching and gripping Tony with a rhythm I definitely didn’t authorize.
I wonder what Robert would see if he were here right now. Would he watch my face? Would he focus on where Tony’s cock disappears inside me, or on the way my lips stretch around Adrian? Would he be stroking himself in the corner, or saving it for after? The thought of Robert watching sends a pulse of heat straight through my core, and I clench so hard around Tony that he groans.
Tony’s phone buzzes on the desk. I glance up at Adrian and his eyes are over my head. Adrian shakes his head once:don’t.
Tony silences the phone and returns his focus to me. But the moment lingers. A reminder that I don’t know these men. Not really. I know what their cocks feel like inside me, but I don’t know what they do when I’m not here.
A jolt of reckless heat sears through my veins. My body buzzes from the danger, and Adrian thrusts deeper into my mouth.
I let the thought dissolve into sensation. That’s a problem for the woman who drives home. Right now, I’m just holes being filled.
They rearrange me again. I’m so far gone I let them move me like a doll, positioning my limbs, angling my hips. A distant part of my brain tries to muster outrage at being objectified, but the rest of my brain is too busy noting that being objectified is the entire point and my pussy is dripping.
Three months ago, I was worried about whether the centerpieces at the Wellington Foundation Gala were the right shade of ivory. Now two men are passing me between them like a shared toy in a casino office, and the woman who cared about centerpieces is gone. This woman is better. Wetter, too.
Adrian sits in Tony’s chair and they position me on his lap, my back to his chest. I sink down onto his cock and moan at the thickness. He fills me differently from this angle, hitting places that make my thighs shake. The leather of Tony’s chair is cool against my spread knees, and there’s something obscene about riding a man’s cock in his boss’s office chair while said boss stands in front of me unbuckling his belt.
“Ride him.” Tony stands in front of me. “And don’t stop sucking.”
I take Tony in my mouth as I rock on Adrian’s cock. My thighs burn. My jaw aches. Every muscle from my calves to my neck is working, and I’m starting to wonder if this counts as a cardio workout because I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow.
Who am I kidding? I’m sore right now.
Adrian’s hands grip my hips, guiding my rhythm. Tony’s fingers are threaded through my hair, controlling the pace in my mouth. I’m caught between them, two men orchestrating my body like they’ve rehearsed this. Maybe they have. The thought makes me wetter.
If Robert could see this, his wife sandwiched between two men, riding one cock while sucking another, moaning like she’s being paid for it. Would he be turned on? Jealous? Both? The answer is both and we both know it, and the fact that he’d be rock hard watching this makes me grind down on Adrian with a roll of my hips that earns a groan from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Fuuuuck.” Adrian’s composure finally cracks. His fingers dig into my hip bones and his hips buck up to meet me.
I ride harder, because hearing the controlled, calculating man who left me on a storage room floor losing his goddamn mind inside me is worth more than oxygen.
“Please,” I manage around Tony’s cock. The word is garbled but the meaning is clear. “Please let me come.”
Adrian’s hand slides around to my clit. His fingers brush circles, feather-light, barely touching.
I convulse. “Oh god. Oh god, please—“
“No.” His fingers pull away.
My scream vibrates around Tony’s cock. Tears prick my eyes. My whole body is a live wire, sparking at every point of contact.
Tony pulls out of my mouth. “How many times has he denied you tonight?”
I gasp for air. “I don’t— two? Three? I can’t—“
“And you haven’t come once.”
