Page 37 of Don't Puck Up

"You’re the big bad wolf now?"

"And I'm gonna eat you up."

My panties were wet, and my clit throbbed. I was high on adrenaline, my pulse racing. I looked over at Chris, and he was watching us through heavily lidded eyes, one arm resting along the back of the couch, holding his nearly empty tumbler in that hand while the other rubbed his cock through the material of his suit pants.

Then V was there in front of him. He watched Chris’s moves like a hawk, and I could see his fingers flexing as he held himself back from touching him.

"Take your cock out, boy. Jack off but don't come. Your wife’s hungry for it. Aren’t you, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Good girl. Let’s feed your cock to your wife while I fuck her."

Holy hell, I wanted that so bad, but something in Chris’s gaze had me pausing. He wanted more.

“Catch me if you can,” I taunted and dashed toward the bedroom again. I raced for the door to the bathroom, but the handle didn’t move. “Shit,” I muttered, forgetting for a moment that I’d just locked it.

V’s heat was suddenly behind me, and I squealed, then tried to dart to the left. He grasped my waist and lifted me effortlessly, tossing me over his shoulder and gripping my thighs tightly.

I couldn’t see anything. His trench coat covered everything. I hadn’t gotten to touch and taste him like I wanted to—heck, I would kiss, lick, and suck every inch of his body if I could—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel. I ran my hands down his back to his ass and squeezed. You could bounce a coin off that butt. Firm, high, and tight, it topped off a set of long, strong legs that I loved wrapping mine around. His body was a dream. I squeezed my thighs together, my pussy throbbing hard. Each step sent a jolt of electricity through me from my clit to my nipples bouncing under my jersey.

V turned, and I could see the heavy timber coffee table immediately behind him. He sat down, keeping me over his shoulder. I wanted his hands on me and his dick inside me.

I breathed him in, his familiar scent that reminded me of hot nights on tropical islands returning in full force. I moaned, and he rubbed my ass, dipping his fingers between my legs. He had to know how wet I was for him, how hot.

“Our guy is touching himself, running his hand over that pretty dick. He’s so hard. Makes me want to rip this mask off and suck him down.”

“Oh fuck,” Chris groaned, his voice strained.

“Oh yeah,” V responded. “You like that idea, don’t you, boy? You’re leaking like a faucet. Sweet thing, you’re going to lick him for me, okay?”

“Please,” I moaned.

“I can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock.”

He yanked my leggings down my legs, and I shifted, trying to kick them off. My jersey was riding up, so I shrugged out of it. The only thing I had on was a camisole, but it was still too much. The material abraded my nipples every time I shifted, the sensation overwhelming.

V eased me down between his legs, locking his knees around me. He growled, his thumbs brushing over my hard nipples visible through the silky top. He grasped it, his fingers grazing my nipples as he reached inside. Then he tore it open, the material shredding in his powerful grip.

I moaned. My juices coated my inner thighs, and I rubbed my legs together, desperate for pressure—friction—against my clit.

“Mine,” he rasped and spun me around.

I loved that possessive side of him. The way he stated without any hesitation that he owned us, that we were his to chase and fuck. The primal part of me purred when he manhandled us and uttered those words.

Chris parted his lips on a moan and slid his tongue across his bottom one before he bit down on it, eying us. I was high from his perusal and the excited spark in his eyes. His pupils were blown out, his cock an angry red as he stroked it slowly.

V slapped my ass, and I could feel it jiggle. He moaned and opened his legs, letting me go. I was taunting him, my animal brain taking over. I wanted him to pick me up, throw me down on the nearest surface, and force his dick inside whatever hole he chose. I wanted him to pin me down and fill me with his cum. I wanted him to go bare, to mark me and own us for real.

I darted out from his grip, but he didn’t let me get far. He caught me around my waist and dragged me back to his spot. I looked at my husband. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and a drop of precum leaked down his dick, another one gathering at his slit as he slowly stroked it.His balls were drawn up tight, and the muscles in his legs were jumping as he held himself back from fucking his fist. It wouldn’t take much to get him over the line.

“Unzip me, boy,” V ordered, his voice husky and raw.

Chris didn’t hesitate, shifting forward on the sofa and reaching out for our guy with shaking hands. I watched raptly as Chris inched V’s zipper down, then tugged his jeans over his knees and down his calves. It only occurred to me then that he wasn’t wearing his boots.

V stepped out of his clothes and straightened, his dick bouncing as he stood up straight. He was going commando again, and my mouth watered at the sight of that beautiful, thick cock.

“Condom in my pocket.”