A Hot Tub Invitation

We’d chatted on the site a few times - easy, flirty exchanges that hinted at a deeper connection. She was married, curious, and a little nervous. He was clearly proud of her and keen to see where their fantasies might lead. When they invited me over for drinks and a soak in the hot tub, it didn’t feel like a setup. More like a natural step forward. There was no promise or assumption of fun - this was a chance to get to know each other a little more.

I arrived just after nine. They greeted me warmly, the atmosphere relaxed but charged. She was barefoot in a short robe, hair still damp from a shower, eyes bright with a mix of nerves and excitement. He handed me a drink and we settled outside, the warm air humming with quiet possibility.

We talked for a while - travel, work, the lifestyle, how they’d ended up on the site. Nothing rushed, just three people finding comfort in the same space. Eventually, we all climbed into the hot tub. Her robe slipped off just before she stepped in. I tried not to stare, but I noticed everything. She moved with confidence, even if it was new to her.

The wine flowed. So did the conversation. They told me about the first time they’d fantasised like this, about how it had started in private chats, then in bed. He liked seeing her desired. She liked feeling wanted. I could see it in how she looked at him, then at me.

Her leg brushed against mine under the bubbles. Just once, but it stayed there. He caught my eye and gave the faintest nod. I smiled, letting the tension rise naturally. His hand moved over her thigh, slow and deliberate. She tilted her head back, lips parting slightly. I didn’t need an invitation. I moved closer.

It started with subtle touches. My fingers trailing her calf, her foot brushing my thigh. Her husband kissed her slowly, hand now between her legs beneath the water. I sat back, letting the moment build, heat swirling in the space between us. She turned to face me and for the first time that night, kissed me, soft at first, then deeper, more sure.

Her hands found my chest. Then lower.

Things moved quickly after that. She knelt between us, lips on his cock while her hand found mine. Her husband untied her bikini, baring her fabulous and tiny breasts to the night air. She moaned softly, overwhelmed but hungry for more. When I slid my hand down to her hips, she didn’t stop me - she opened for me. He pulled her waist up and raised he arse out of the water for me. Wet, ready, trembling. I teased her with a fingertip before slipping it inside. She gasped around his cock, and I felt her clench in approval.

Soon he stood, guiding her mouth up to him, while I knelt behind her, parting her with both hands. I tasted her slowly, then deeper. She shook, moaning louder as her husband stroked her hair, whispering something I couldn’t hear.

Eventually, he moved to the side of the tub, and she turned toward me. I stood. She reached for my cock, thick and fully hard, and guided me to the edge. Her mouth was soft, warm, and eager. I watched her husband watching her, and saw the pride in his eyes. He wanted this, he wanted her to feel every inch of me.

We moved out of the water. She straddled me on the lounger, her body slick and glowing under the moonlight. She lowered herself onto my cock slowly, deliberately. Tight, warm, pulsing with need. Her eyes met mine and I held her hips, letting her control the pace until she lost it altogether - riding me harder, grinding her clit against me, begging for more.

Her husband sat nearby, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other stroking her back when she leaned forward to kiss him. We were all connected in that moment. I felt her come again, shuddering, breathless, completely open to everything.

When I came, it was deep inside her, her body quivering around me. She collapsed against my chest, breath hitching, tears in her eyes. Not from guilt, not from regret, just overwhelmed. Her husband knelt beside us, kissing her shoulder, telling her how beautiful she looked, how proud he was of her.

Later, we sat on the pool steps, refilling glasses, talking as though the world hadn’t shifted slightly beneath us. But we all knew it had. Something had begun that night - something honest, exciting, and real.

Tags: mfm, jacuzzi, small tits, first mfm