The day had been cold, spent wandering the misty Welsh countryside near Mr. and Mrs. X’s holiday cottage. By the time we returned, the chill lingered in our bones, but Mr. X had a roaring fire blazing in the small living room. The heat poured through the space, the orange glow of the flames flickering on the stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The crackling of the logs was a steady, soothing sound, blending with the faint howl of wind outside. Mrs. X carried in a tray of hot chocolate spiked with whiskey, the rich, sweet scent of cocoa mixing with the sharp edge of alcohol as she handed me a mug. We settled on a thick, soft rug in front of the hearth, blankets over our shoulders, though the warmth of the fire soon had us peeling off layers.
Mrs. X sipped her drink, her cheeks flushed from the whiskey and heat. Her dark hair was slightly tousled from the day, framing her face in loose waves, and her sweater clung tight to her curves. She stretched out on the rug, lying on her side, the fabric riding up to show a strip of smooth, pale skin just above her waistband. “This is so cozy,” she said, her voice low and warm, a little rough from the drink. “But you know what’d make it even better?”
Mr. X set his mug down on the nearby coffee table, a sly grin spreading across his face. He was shirtless already, his broad chest dusted with dark hair, the firelight catching the lines of his muscles. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said, his tone teasing. “Been staring at you all day, waiting for this.” He reached over, tugging at her sweater, pulling it up and over her head in one quick move. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her full breasts spilled free, nipples hardening in the warm air, her skin glowing golden in the flickering light.
“Join us,” she said to me, her eyes dark with want, patting the rug beside her. My pulse jumped as I set my mug aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans, the heat of the fire prickling against my bare skin. She watched me, gaze hungry, as I settled next to her. She pulled me down for a slow, deep kiss, her lips soft and hot, tasting of whiskey and chocolate. Her hands roamed over my chest, nails lightly scraping as she pressed against me. Her scent hit me hard, sweet skin, a trace of sweat from the day, and something deeper, musky, as her arousal started to build.
Mr. X worked on her leggings, peeling them down her thighs along with her black lace panties, revealing the neat triangle of dark hair between her legs. Her pussy was already glistening, the firelight catching the wetness on her inner thighs. “Well look at you,” he muttered, running a hand over her hip, fingers dipping briefly between her folds. She gasped softly, hips twitching at his touch, and I caught the sharp, heady smell of her arousal now, blending with the smoky scent of the fire.
“I want you both,” she murmured, voice thick with need. She guided my hand between her legs, and I felt the slick heat of her pussy, her juices coating my fingers as I traced her lips and found her swollen clit. She moaned into my mouth, breath hot and uneven, while Mr. X leaned down to suck one of her nipples, tongue flicking over the hard peak. Her little gasps and the wet sound of his mouth filled the room, layered over the pop and hiss of the fire.
She pushed herself up, straddling my hips, her bare pussy pressing against my hardening cock through my boxers. “Get these off,” she whispered, tugging at the waistband. I lifted my hips, letting her slide them down, my cock springing free, already throbbing. She grinned, wrapping her hand around me, stroking slowly. “So hard for me already,” she purred, thumb brushing over the tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum there.
Mr. X stripped fully now, his own cock thick and erect, and knelt beside us, kissing along her shoulder. “Got an idea,” he said, voice rough. “You want us both insider you?”
Mrs x eyes widened, a mix of nerves and excitement flashing across her face. “Yes please. I’m so turned on right now, just thinking of it.”
I lay back on the rug, head propped on a folded blanket, and she positioned herself over me, knees on either side of my hips. Her pussy hovered just above my cock, her juices dripping onto me, hot and slick. She lowered herself slowly, guiding me inside, and I groaned at the tight, wet heat of her, her walls stretching around me. “Oh, fuck, that’s good,” she breathed, hands on my chest as she adjusted, rolling her hips to take me deeper. The sight of her above me, breasts bouncing slightly, face flushed, lips parted, was almost too much.
Mr. X moved in close, kneeling between my legs behind her, his hands on her hips. “We’ll go slow,” he murmured, reaching for a small bottle of lube from a nearby drawer. He slicked up his cock, the wet sound of it audible over her heavy breathing, and positioned himself at her already-stretched entrance, right where I was buried inside her. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
She tensed for a moment as he started to push in alongside me, her breath hitching with every bit of pressure. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck,” she gasped, nails digging into my shoulders. I could feel him sliding against me, the pressure intense as her pussy stretched to accommodate us both, her walls impossibly tight around us. Her juices flowed even more, hot and slippery, coating both our cocks as he inched deeper, the sensation of our shafts rubbing together inside her making my head spin.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” Mr. X grunted, pausing to let her adjust, hands gripping her hips. “You okay, love?”
“Yeah,” she whimpered, voice strained but needy. “...don’t stop. Move. Please.” Her eyes locked with mine, wild and desperate, as we started to find a rhythm. I thrust up gently into her pussy, feeling every slide of my cock against her drenched walls and against Mr. X’s shaft, while he rocked in beside me, the dual sensation making her moan louder with each stroke. The sounds were raw, her wet pussy squelching around us, the slap of skin on skin, her ragged cries echoing in the small room over the fire’s crackle.
“Fuck,” she gasped, head tipping back against Mr. X’s shoulder, breasts heaving as she panted. “It’s so fuckin’ good.” Her body shook between us, sweat beading on her skin, catching the firelight. I reached up to pinch her nipples, rolling them hard between my fingers, and she cried out, her pussy spasming around us, more of her hot juices dripping down, soaking us both where we filled her.
We built the pace, my hips bucking up to meet her downward thrusts, Mr. X driving into her alongside me with steady, deep strokes. The friction, the tightness, the sheer eroticism of her first double vaginal penetration had us all on edge. “I’m gonna come,” she sobbed, voice breaking, thighs trembling against me. “Don’t stop, oh god, don’t fuckin’ stop.” Her orgasm hit hard, her pussy clenching rhythmically around us both, a gush of her juices flooding over our cocks as she bucked and shuddered, screaming out her release.
Mr. X groaned, thrusts faltering. “Fuck, I’m there,” he rasped, and I felt him pulse beside me, his hot cum spilling into her pussy, mixing with her wetness as he came with a deep, guttural sound. The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I gripped her hips, thrusting up hard as I exploded inside her too, my cum adding to the flood, filling her to overflowing. “Oh, shit, yes,” I grunted, each spurt intense, her walls milking us both dry as I shuddered beneath her.
She collapsed onto me, sweaty chest pressed to mine, still stuffed with both of us, breath hot against my neck. Mr. X eased out slowly, a thick trickle of his cum and mine leaking from her pussy, white and sticky, mixed with her clear juices, dripping down her thighs and onto me. I stayed inside her a moment longer, feeling the aftershocks of her pussy around me, the mess seeping out, pooling on my pelvis, warm and slick. The smell of raw sex—cum, sweat, her musky arousal—hung heavy in the air, blending with the smoky warmth of the fire.
“Fuckin’ hell,” she whispered at last, lifting her head to look at me, then twisting to kiss Mr. X over her shoulder. “That was… unbelievable”
Mr. X chuckled, brushing her damp hair back.
I ran a hand down her back, feeling her shiver. “You good?” I asked.
“More than good,” she said, a lazy, sated smile on her lips. “I’m dripping with both of you. Feels so nasty… I’m obsessed.” She shifted slightly, and more of our combined cum leaked out, a creamy mix sliding down her thighs as she finally lifted off me. She lay between us on the rug, one hand lazily trailing through the mess on her skin, bringing her fingers to her lips to taste. “Mmm. We’re doin’ that again,” she promised, eyes glinting with renewed mischief as the fire continued to burn beside us.
