Fucking my wife was definitely my favorite thing to do.But last night, after watching her with my best friend—I wasn't sure what had happened to me.Something so fucking strong had come over me.I couldn't describe it.And then the way I fucked Francesca afterward—
Fuck.
It was out of this fucking world.
This universe.
And then—the same goddamn thing happened this morning after Nick fucked Francesca.I immediately got in there the second he was done.
And I'd had the same reaction.
Not that my wife seemed to mind.At all.
She'd come again.
Twice.
What I wanted to know—what I needed to know—is if it was normal.
Or not.
Not that anything this group did was “normal.”Because it sure as fuck wasn't.We all knew that.And were really fuckin' okay with that.
Even so—I needed to ask these men if I was truly losing my mind—or not.
I drank the rest of my cappuccino and decided now was as good a time as any to present my question.
“Can I ask you something?”I looked at Nick—and then at Carlo, knowing what their answer would be.
“What's wrong?”My brother looked at me with assessing eyes and a frown on his face.I could tell he was holding his breath.
I swallowed and took a deep breath.“After your wife has been with one of us,” I cleared my throat and looked down for a moment, “is it—different the next time you fuck her?”
Nick and Carlo looked at each other.
And then they laughed their fucking asses off at me.
Fuckers.
“He—finally—fucking gets it,” Carlo said to Nick.And Nick nodded, and they both kept laughing.
“I finally get—what?”I asked these two assholes.“Fuck, never mind.I shouldn't have fuckin' brought it up.”
My brother simmered down after that and turned to me.“Yeah, it's fuckin' different.You spend that time trying to erase the last guy's dick.And making good and fucking sure she remembers yours.”
That hit me.
Real fuckin' hard.
I hadn't realized I'd been doing that.
But, yeah.
I absolutely fucking had.
“And that, Brother,” Carlo said in a low voice, “is how you know—she's—the one.”There was a whole lot that transpired in both the words he gave me—and the look he sent.
And I knew exactly what he was trying to say.
