Stitches by Sam Mariano
8
Sebastian
My wife is completely terrified.
I wasn’t entirely sure how I would feel walking into this, despite my earlier reassurances that everything would be fine. It was what had to happen and I’m a man who does what needs doing, but it’s one thing to decide logically that this is the course of action, and quite another to walk into my bedroom where my wife lies naked in our bed, the smell of sex in the air, her hair mussed from someone else’s hands running through her dark locks, both of them with faintly guilty looks on their faces.
They’re bad at this already.
I’m sure they’ll adjust, though. This is uncharted territory and they’re not sure how it works. That’s understandable. I’m not either; I’m just much better at taking the lead even if I have no fucking idea where we’re heading.
So, that’s what I do. Moira looks up at me with all her feelings in her big blue eyes. I think she’d burst into tears if I so much as frowned at her. That makes me feel bad. I don’t want Moira to be so fragile about this, but I get it. The idea of fucking up our relationship scares me, too, I’m just not going to bleed my fucking feelings all over the place like she does.
Someone’s gotta be the strong one. I should’ve known it would have to be me. Griff usually handles his shit a lot better, but he doesn’t look much more comfortable than Moira right now.
Well, in my opinion there’s one sure way to blow past this kind of discomfort, to stop this sort of tiptoeing and show everyone once and for all how I want things.
Moira finishes the whiskey, grimacing like she just swallowed poison. I can’t help smirking. She hates hard liquor, but that’ll help her nerves. I take the glass from her and put it down on the end table, peeling off my shirt and starting on my belt.
Moira’s gaze drops to my belt, then darts back to my face, a bit uncertainly.
Griff clears his throat. “Should I go?”
I shake my head, meeting his gaze. “No.”
He eases back on the pillow, but he looks no more certain than Moira.
“Did you come inside her or did you use a condom?” I ask.
Moira wilts—visibly wilts, like she wants to sink into the floor and disappear. No, no, no, that’s not what I want.
Seeing the way Moira reacts, Griff’s gaze shifts from her to me, picking up some hostility on the journey. “I didn’t—” He shakes his head, his jaw locking. He makes a visible effort to unlock it, then continues, “It didn’t go that far.”
Now I frown, cocking my head in confusion. “What didn’t go that far? What are you talking about? You didn’t get off? You stopped? What the hell were you two doing up here?”
Moira buries her face in her hands.
Griff looks worried about it. He can barely keep from glaring at me, since I’m the one making her so damn uncomfortable. “Do we have to tell you that? Do all of our activities have to pass inspection?”
I shuck my pants and shake my head, eyebrows rising. “I guess not. I just figured I send you upstairs to fuck my wife, stands to reason that my wife would get fucked. I’m not sure where in there my intent got lost—I was pretty clear with Moira.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t fuck at your behest,” Griff states.
I meet his gaze, and he raises a challenging eyebrow.
I shrug. “All right. If you don’t want to fuck my wife, then don’t. I don’t know what all this is about then.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Griff says.
“So, you don’t want to share Moira?”
“No, I do.”
I frown. “But you don’t want to fuck her?”
“No, I… Yeah, I do. Not like this, though.”
I shake my head at him and walk over to turn out the light.
“What are you doing?” Griff asks, as soon as the room goes dark. “Am I staying the night? Shouldn’t I at least go to the guest room?”
“We have a king bed. There’s plenty of room for you to stay here.”
I pull back the blanket on my side and slide in. Moira immediately comes to my side, needing reassurance. I can see the fear in her eyes even now, so I cradle the back of her neck in my hand and draw her in for a soft, slow kiss. She melts against me, wrapping her arms around me, clinging to me. Her fear ignites desire within me. I don’t make Moira worry about losing me on a regular basis—that would be cruel—but I like knowing the thought of losing me terrifies her. It’s reassurance that her little ass isn’t going anywhere.
Right now she’s desperate to make it up to me, and I like that, too. There’s nothing more intoxicating than the repentant trail of Moira’s lips along my jawline, down my neck, across my chest. Without words, she expresses her love. With the kind of raw need most healthy people can’t feel in a vacuum like this, she makes me feel like the most important man in her world.
Of course, Griff being right here on the bed with us, that’s probably not feeling so good for him. Feels great to me, though. I need to give a little back.
“It’s Griff’s turn,” I tell Moira.
She tears her lips away from my chest and looks up at me, confused. “What?”
I cock my head toward Griff.
Moira sits back on her heels and hesitates. “You want me to…? In front of you?”
I nod my head.
Moira swallows audibly, looking none too confident, but she turns and crawls over to Griff. His mouth opens to object, but as Moira straddles his lap with her naked ass, he can’t summon the willpower. She sits there for a second just looking at him, then she runs her hands up his chest before leaning in and kissing him. There’s no deepening of the kiss—just soft little pecks. There’s tenderness, but no desperation. She doesn’t kiss him like she needs him, the way she kisses me, but he doesn’t seem to be in a position to complain.
No, the tables have turned now. His hands go to her waist like he can’t help touching her. He follows the pace she sets, but he’s the one who needs her. Moira needs me, Griff needs Moira, and I… well, I guess I need Griff, because there’s really no alternative I can envision where I’d be sitting here watching another man fondle my wife.
Watching him need her turns me on. I have power over him now, because I have total power over Moira. That motherfucker isn’t going anywhere as long as Moira has him by the balls.
Relief spreads through me. I’m feeling better about life, about this decision. I’m feeling grateful for my dutiful little wife, even as she straddles someone else’s cock, as his big hands palm her breasts and trace the curve of her back.
I push up and prowl across the bed, grabbing Moira’s hips and dragging her off his lap. A startled gasp slips out of her and Griff looks immediately bereft when her mouth leaves his, but since she’s mine, he doesn’t dare object.
Oh yes, I like this already.
Moira looks back at me over her shoulder. She’s on her hands and knees. I put a hand on her back and pet her, partly to reassure her, partly to push her into the position I want her in. I grip her hips a little tighter and pull her ass up in the air. She’s accustomed to this, so she lowers her upper body toward the bed and her legs spread for me naturally. I can’t resist pushing a finger inside her sweet pussy to see how wet Griff made her. I close my eyes as my finger sinks inside her. Oh, she’s fucking drenched. Too drenched. Did he really make her this wet?
My gaze drifts to Griff and I see him watching me, watching my finger as I move it in and out of my wife. His gaze drifts to Moira, in position like a good girl. The way I have her, she’s looking right at him while I finger her.
After a few more seconds—and a strained moan from Moira—Griff clears his throat. “I’m gonna go in the guest room.”
“Stay or go,” I say casually, pushing a second finger into my wife’s pussy. “If you stay, we can fuck her together.”
Moira shudders, pushing against my fingers.
Griff’s eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”
“Did you eat her pussy, Griff?” I ask casually, as Moira lets out another soft moan. “Did she come for you? I hope you made her come hard. Moira’s a good little wife.” I withdraw my fingers and then shove them into her up to the knuckle. “She deserves to come hard.”
I can see part of him still wants to leave, but now he’s looking at Moira again, at her struggling against her arousal already. She loves my mouth, so when I talk about Griff eating her pussy like that, it has to make her crazy. Judging by the hooded look on Griff’s face as he watches her, by the simple fact that he’s still sitting here, she’s turning him on, too.
He looks up at me. “Is this how we’re doing this? We’re supposed to fuck her together?”
“Tonight,” I say, pulling my fingers from Moira’s pussy and running my hand over her perfect ass. She makes a faint noise of disappointment and I smirk. “What better way to seal the deal?”
Since I’m not going to wait for him to decide, and because there’s probably a better chance he stays if I do, I stop wasting time, stroke my cock a couple of times and guide it to Moira’s pussy. I rub the crown against her. She’s so fucking wet, it eases right inside. I slide home, burying myself balls deep in my eager-to-please little wife.
“Take her mouth,” I tell Griff.
He tears his eyes away from Moira’s face, his gaze lingering briefly on the visual of me pulling out and impaling her again, but then he meets my eyes, his brow furrowed in consternation. “What?”
“Fuck her mouth,” I say slowly, rocking my hips and drawing a low moan out of her.
“This isn’t right,” Griff says, shaking his head. “This isn’t right. This is Moira. We shouldn’t be treating her like some whore.”
I grin at him as I shove myself inside my wife again. “Trust me, Griff, Moira wants to be treated like your little whore. Don’t believe me? Get on the bed and see how loud she moans when we’re fucking her tight little pussy and her sweet little mouth at the same time.”
“Oh, God,” Moira murmurs, pressing her forehead to the bed.
“Tell Griff you want his cock, Moira.”
“I do,” she tells him, gasping again as I piston my hips and fill her pussy. “Griff, it’s okay. I want to.”
That’s all the encouragement he needs. He’s made of stern fucking stuff to be able to resist this long, but now he pushes his jeans down and kicks them off, pushing off his boxer briefs. His cock springs free—he’s already hard, which shouldn’t surprise me. If he could watch Moira get fucked, listen to all her little sounds and not get turned on, I would be more concerned.
He gets up on his knees and grasps his cock in one hand, but he looks like he still doesn’t want to put it near Moira. He’s probably got some sort of Madonna complex—thinks of her as untouchable, so he shouldn’t put his dirty hands on her. He’ll have to get over that. I guess Moira’s needs can be met by me alone and she can just manage him, but I’d like for him to learn how to please her. Otherwise he’ll probably start to notice I can do things for her he can’t and we’ll be right back at square one.
“Put your cock in her fucking mouth, Griff.”
He glares at me, not appreciating my direction. Then, like he actually wants to annoy me, he fists a hand in my wife’s hair and holds her still while he eases his cock into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. Moira moans around his cock as she takes him, and fuck if it doesn’t turn me on even more.
Yes, this is fucking beautiful. I pump my hips harder and Moira’s body jerks forward, but now Griff is on the other side. She keeps her weight braced on the bed with one hand, but she grabs Griff’s hip with the other to anchor herself to him so she has some control over how deep he goes into her throat while I fuck her.
My little beauty is a natural. Griff’s head falls back as Moira takes every inch of his cock. I reach under her and stroke her clit, wanting to reward her even more for the excellent job she’s doing. This is fucking perfect. My cock in her pussy, Griff filling her mouth, and she’s loving every second of it.
God, I love her little sounds. They’re muffled around Griff now, but that makes them even sexier. I could fuck her a little slower or change positions so this lasts a little longer, but this doesn’t need to be a marathon. As hot as Griff is for her—and if she didn’t already get the poor fucker off—he’s not going to last long with Moira working his dick the way she is. I’m more turned on than I thought I would be by Griff taking Moira’s mouth, and of course, my wife’s pussy is as hot and tight as it always is. Fuck, I love her.
Nah, no marathon, we’re just sealing a deal. I grab her hips and fuck her hard. I circle her clit hard and fast until she comes the first time, still impaled at both ends with me and Griff so she has nowhere to go. I know the sound my wife makes when she’s coming, though. I know the way her pussy squeezes my dick. I let up off her clit and assault the fuck out of her G-spot.
“Fuck, Seb,” Griff says, fisting both hands in her hair and fucking her face. “I’m gonna come.”
“Spill it all down her throat,” I tell him, as Moira’s desperate moans fill the space between us. “You swallow every fucking drop he gives you, you hear me, sweetheart?”
She’s too full of Griff’s cock to nod, but I know she hears me. I thrust into her hard and fast a few more times and she cries out, a broken glorious sound as her pussy convulses around me. I push deep and groan with my own release.
“Oh, fuck,” Griff says, before practically growling as he pours his own cum down my wife’s throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, before easing back.
“Mm.” Moira moans softly and I can imagine her sealing her lips around his cock as he leaves her, making sure she gets every last drop and leaves him clean. She always does for me.
I pull out of her pussy at the same time. Moira collapses in a heap on the bed. I’m fucking spent, so I drag my ass back to my spot and wait for Moira to collect herself.
Griff doesn’t. He’s gotta be as drained as I am right now, but he gathers Moira up and pulls her against him. She nestles right into his side and he keeps a protective arm wrapped around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring, “Are you okay?”
Moira sighs, nodding her head. “Mm hmm. I’m good.”
“I got a little rough with you there,” he says, holding her like she’s something precious. She is, but it’s weird to see someone holding my something special that way.
“I won’t break,” she assures him, fondly running a hand across his muscled chest.
I let them have their little moment—he’s more considerate than I am, I pick that up right away. I know what Moira’s body can handle, though; this is all still new to him. I wonder if Moira likes the dynamic with him. I wonder if she likes how exalted she is in his eyes. Moira’s my greatest treasure and she knows it, but I don’t fawn over her like this. That’s not our way.
I’m tempted to take her back. A well-placed command, probably even just speaking to her would draw her back my way. Griff needs it more than I do tonight, though. He needs to know she has affection for him; he needs to know he can use her body and not hurt her; he needs to know what it feels like to fall asleep with Moira in his arms.
