She screams in horror

Cum splattered faces. Two big throbbing cocks. Rachel screams to wake up from this dream.

No way did she walk in on her husband’s best friends swapping wives. This doesn’t happen in real life. She screams and scrambles for the door knob.

Joey runs over and hushes her. His big hand covers her open mouth. His big cock pokes into her thin body. “Be quiet! There’s no need to scream.”

“Seriously? That’s uncalled for,” Monica says, wiping cum from her face with a tissue.

Phoebe wipes my cum with her fingers and then sucks them into her mouth. “Calm down. Act like an adult.”

Joey sets the tall skinny woman down. She’s stopped yelling. She sits down on the couch, and tries to stop from hyperventilating. She tries to keep her eyes from all the nakedness in the room. She ends up staring down at the coffee table.

She asks, “What were you guys doing?”

“We were having fun,” Monica says. “Seriously that was great.”

“You should take the stick out of your ass and join us,” Phoebe says.

Rachel face scrunches in disgust, “Just because I’m not some sex pervert doesn’t mean I have a stick up my ass. I don’t make pornos and I don’t have sex with my husband’s friends. You guys are weird. Not me.”

Ross steps out of the room, rubbing his eyes.

Phoebe laughs, “Your wife was screaming bloody **** and you sleepwalk out of your room minutes later.”

He blinks his eyes and looks around, “Huh? What’s going on?”

Monica can’t take her eyes off Ross’s pale muscled body. He’s down to his briefs that barely contain a sizable bulge. When she sees me watching her, she raises her thick eyebrows and smiles. I know what she wants now.

My wife stands up. Ross finally realizes that my thick curvy wife is completely naked. He looks away quickly out of embarrassment. Then sees Phoebe naked tattooed body. Then his best friend’s hanging half-hard dicks. He looks to the ceiling, “What the hell is going on out here?”

“Your friends are sex freaks. That’s what,” Rachel says. “Chandler was with Phoebe and Joey was with Monica. They traded!”

“Really?” Ross says and looks at me. He’s definitely curious and not faux disgusted like his wife.

“Really,” I answer. “There are worse things to do when you’re drunk and horny.”

“You’re cool with him fucking your wife,” Ross asks, pointing to the sweaty bear of a man, plopped down in the easy chair.

“Monica liked it. And I’m confident she’s not going to leave me for him. It was a fun change of pace.”

“Variety is the spice of life,” Monica says, flaunting her nakedness so Ross will check her out. “It was so exciting to have another man’s dick in me with my husband was in another woman.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Phoebe says. “These two don’t have fun. They’re probably going to pack up and leave right now before our sex disease infects them.”

“If we’re going to talk about this, can y'all at least put on clothes,” Rachel says. “It’s uncomfortable being the only ones dressed.”

“It’ll be quicker if you two get naked,” Joey says.

Phoebe sits in my lap and wraps one of my arms around her chest and puts my other hand between her legs. She smiles at Rachel, “Am I covered enough for you?”

I squeeze the small woman and slip a fingertip inside her. She sighs. She fits in my lap perfectly. I look over her at Rachel. I look into her blue eyes as I finger Phoebe.

Ross puts down his brief. His pink cock dangles more than halfway to his knees. Monica gasps, “Sweet Mary and Jesus.”

Rachel’s eyes flick to what my wife is looking at. She yells, “What the hell Ross! What are you doing?”

He shrugs, “You were right. It felt awkward being the only clothed one. Besides I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No you do not,” Monica agrees licking her lips, her brown eyes drinking in his ripped body and magnificent horse cock.

Phoebe says, “Oh no! We’ve infected Ross. Come over here and join us on the couch big boy.”

He steps forward then gets yanked back by his wife. “Oh no! You are not joining them. This is crazy!”

Monica walks across the room and takes Ross’s other hand. “Come on. Join us. It’ll be so much fun. We’ll make sure it’s worth the argument with your wife later.”

She winks at Rachel antagonizing her. Ross can’t take his eyes off my wife’s body. Her body is so different from his wife’s. I’m sure he’s thinking about how different and how great the sex would be with her.

“Come on Rachel! Get naked. You’re making this awkward,” Joey says. He stretches out his sweaty ball sack to air it out. He’s definitely not convincing her to stay.

I encircle my wet fingers on Phoebe clit. She can’t hold back the moan. “Oh fuck Chandler. You’re gonna make me come again.”

I look over at Rachel who still clutches at her husband so my wife doesn’t steal him away. I say, “Let’s have some fun Rachel. One crazy night. I know you need to relieve some tension. You looked stress. We can help you with that.”

Her body looked like a compressed spring. The cords in her long neck are taunt. She looks like she’s about to explode.

Joey stands up, “That’s a good idea. Rachel lay down. I’ll give you a massage. I promise it won’t be sexual. I’m professionally trained.”

“He gives the best massages,” Phoebe says, still creaming in my fingers.

“They are really good,” Ross says. “He took classes. He would give me some all the time. He won’t touch you anyplace you don’t want.”

He wraps his arms around his wife. He leads her to an empty spot on the floor. “Lay down. He’ll give you a massage. You’ll relax then we’ll go to bed. You won’t be able to sleep when you’re this tense.”

Phoebe orgasms on my lap. I squeeze her tightly so she doesn’t fall away. Rachel watches bliss erupt from the small woman. Her big blue eyes look sad. That’s something she wants, but could never possibly admit it.

She lays face down on the floor. She looks up at Joey. “Okay. You can give me a professional massage, but if your hands go someplace inappropriate, I get to kick you in the balls. And I swear to god, I better not let your dick touch me!”

Joey smiles, “Understood. Now close your eyes and relax.”

He looks at me and winks. It’s about to get so much more fun.