Page 31 of Choosing Hope

My dick instantly turned to steel, and since I was only wearing my customary sweatpants, my reaction to her suggestive response was obvious.

Carlo stalked around the coffee table toward her, in the same state as me. He loomed over her, and from the pounding of the pulse in her throat, I could tell his presence was having the same impact on her as it was on me.

“What do you imagine happening there?” he asked, his words slow, careful.

Her cheeks flushed deliciously.

Carlo and I weren’t unfamiliar with Sophie’s creative imagination. Her desires had fueled so many of our hottest nights together.

“I’m not sure what’s allowed.”

She raised her eyebrow, directing her implied question at me.

“Let’s pretend there are no rules,” I choked out. “What would you like to happen?”

She puffed out a breath.

“Remember the other night when that guy came up to chat me up in the bar, and you went all caveman on me?” I nodded. “That was fucking hot.”

It was. I saw him approaching her a few minutes before I stepped in. Observing her flirt with another man gave me an unexpected thrill.

Afterward, I tried to analyze my response and decided it was because I was certain she was mine.

Over the years, my trust in her had grown. I was as certain as I could be that Sophie wouldn’t let another man touch her. Yet, it was obvious she was enjoying being admired by the handsome stranger.

While she laughed and flirted, I looked on from a table close by. The excitement of the experience made me wonder how she’d react if the roles were reversed. With my gaze fixed on her, my salacious mind wandered, creating images of irresistible fantasies.

How would she react seeing me sleep with another woman? Like I watch her with Carlo.

The thought was fleeting; it never occurred to me to ask her or act upon it.

Needing to ground myself, I ran my fingers through her hair. She was wearing her favorite white shirt of Carlo’s. It was old, and well worn; the fabric was soft and thin. So thin, it was possible to see the shadows of her nipples underneath.

“It was hot. I loved seeing his lust for you. He was desperate to taste what’s mine. Intervening just as he thought he’d gotten lucky for the night was a buzz.”

She grinned playfully.

“I like the idea of people watching the three of us together, too,” she admitted, her voice gaining confidence.

Carlo sank to his knees, reaching for my waistband and pulling down my trousers.

“Keep talking, Bella, you’re turning us on.”

As Carlo’s mouth surrounded my dick, I jerked my chin up, prompting my wife to continue.

“I’d like to see the two of you picking up a woman,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire.

Carlo released my dick with a pop, waiting for her to speak with his mouth open. He hurriedly unfastened his own trousers, pressing our dicks together in his hand and jerking us both off at the same time.

“If they have private rooms, I could instruct you. Control the narrative,” she suggested, before leaning down to run her tongue along both of our dicks in the same movement. Her mouth wasn’t big enough to take us both together, but a few months earlier we’d learned her pussy was.

“Get your cunt over here,” Carlo growled.

In seconds, she’d abandoned her T-shirt and hovered over us both.

My boyfriend helping to fill my wife’s pussy with cum was one experience I never thought I could give up.

Our visits to the club became a regular thing. It was fucking addictive. Sophie blew our minds; I still wasn’t sure about other men touching her.She quickly picked up on my discomfort, claiming she was happier just seeing us, or having others watch her with us.