Page 115 of Choosing Hope

“Is that good, darling?” Sophie mumbles into my mouth.

“Ahh, yeah, this is insane.”

“It gets better,” Carlo whispers, but his impatience seems to snap. “Fuck it, I can’t wait. Not anymore, I want you, Compagno. Please tell me you’re ready.”

“Yes, Carlo,” I say, unable to add more.

For years I couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t bear it—but with him, now, I’m not just willing, I’m craving the experience. It seems less like breaking and more like being set free.

He stands, and I hear the click of the lube again. Sophie pulls my face toward her, hungrily kissing me.

In seconds, Carlo’s dick’s tip presses against me. And suddenly I don’t know why I’ve waited so long. I’m almost feral with my need to experience him pushing his enormous cock inside me.

Having been previously frightened it would hurt, I yearn for the bite of pain I’m certain his size will give me.

“Can I fuck your husband, please, Sophie?” he pleads playfully.

“Yes,” she replies, no hesitation, no doubts.

He parts my butt cheeks, his long fingers curling around to my hip bones, firmly gripping me tight, as I’ve done to him many times.

Carlo’s inexperience shows in a moment of hesitation. Feeling him, mimicking my actions with him sends a rush through me—it tells me that when I had him, it was good for him too.

He pushes against me, my body’s natural resistance stopping him. I kiss Sophie’s throat, urging my body to relax for him.

My body opens, allowing his tip inside. And we both groan. Sophie’s pussy is pulsing on my cock, but until he’s buried inside me, I have to push the sensation away, unwilling to orgasm until he’s at least entered me properly.

“Are you okay?” Carlo grunts.

Fuck, I am so much more than okay; this is insanely hot.

“Yeah, keep going,” I beg.

He pushes harder, slipping deeper inside me, and this time I can’t stop myself pushing deeper inside Sophie. Her wet pussy is dripping onto my balls.

“More,” I moan, needing more, wanting him all the way.

“Fuck, Spencer, you’re so freaking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth.

With that, he slams into me harder, and this time his balls knock against mine. Telling me he’s as far as his body will allow.

He holds still for two or three seconds, giving us both a chance to adjust.

“Please fuck me,” wails Sophie.

“Your wish is my command,” Carlo responds, withdrawing a little and then pounding into my ass, forcing me deeper into my wife.

“Fuck. I will not last,” Carlo groans again.

Thank God, because I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth.

Carlo pants with each thrust; it’s the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard. Sophie’s walls grip my dick hard as she detonates around me.

The mix of emotional and physical sensations that release inside me go off like a firework, a sudden rushing feeling sends all the blood in my head south, seeming to force its way out of the end of my dick at such a rate that I question whether my release will cause damage.

“Agha,” I yell, forgetting Carlo and my agreement to be quiet.

But I needn’t have worried because five seconds later, when Carlo’s fingers dig into my hips in a death grip, he forces himself as deep inside me as he can and makes a wail I’ve never heard before.