They stop themselves from going any further

SHANE

Through the fog of our arousal, we somehow still heard Ria’s footsteps, padding down the hallway towards the bathroom door.

Tracy and I immediately broke apart and readjusted our sparse bits of clothing into some poor approximation of modesty. My eyes met hers, and it was plain as day that Tracy was every as bit bewildered by what was happening as I was. Not saying a word, we opened the bathroom door and walked out.

RIA

Shane and Tracy were both blushing so bad, they looked sunburned. As they skittered embarrassedly out of the bathroom—my husband’s cock threatening to rip a hole on his underwear—there was no hiding the fact that they’d been getting pretty friendly in there.

The only real question was HOW friendly…

I smiled to myself. It was odd, but thoughts of my husband and my best friend screwing around had long since lost their ability to make me jealous. I blame all the role-playing Shane and I did. In the past year, we’d had so much great sex pretending that I was Tracy, the idea of them together actually kind of turned me on.

Not that any of us would ever actually have sex with each other’s partner though, right? I mean, last night we’d all SAID that we wanted to swap—but wasn’t that just the sort of thing people say in the heat of the moment?

I felt a tickle of arousal between my legs and sighed. It was only Christmas Eve—we still had five days left of our vacation time at this cabin. Five days when anything at all could happen. If the rest of our time here was like the previous night, I wasn’t sure I’d survive. That hours-long marathon fuck session had left me totally exhausted. Every muscle in my body ached: Legs, butt, tummy—even my jaw muscles were a bit sore from the prolonged blowjob I’d given Shane in the shower.

After finishing my morning beauty routine and heading back into the bedroom, I found my husband sitting on the edge of the bed—still blushing, and still sporting that ridiculous erection.

He grinned guiltily, “Sorry, guess Tracy and I got a little carried away under the mistletoe.”

I gave Shane a quick, reassuring kiss on the cheek. “I think we’re past the point of needing to apologize every time we enjoy a bit of harmless fun with our friends, don’t you?”

He laughed, nodding. I decided to have a little fun with his obvious discomfort.

“Of course, whatever you just did with Tracy, I get to do with Connor. To keep things even.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Just how far did it go?” I teased, tracing a finger up the outline of his penis.

Shane grabbed me by the hair and pulled me in for a good firm kiss on the lips. My fingers reflexively squeezed around his shaft.

“Did you touch her tits?” I asked.

Shane nodded, excited.

“Naughty boy. That means now I get to have Connor play with my tits.”

“Mmm, go ahead,” Shane whispered, his cock pulsing in my grip.

“Did she touch your cock?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

That actually caught me by surprise. “So then I get to touch Connor’s cock, right?”

“Whatever makes you happy, baby.”

I slipped my hand inside his fly, feeling the hot bare skin beneath.

“Did you fuck her?” I whispered in his ear.

“No.”

“But do you want to?”

“You know it’s my fantasy,” Shane chuckled.

I could feel my body trembling. My pulse raced as I haltingly whispered, “What if it didn’t have to be a fantasy? What if it was REAL?”

Shane looked me right in the eye, saying nothing. I couldn’t believe the words I was saying:

“Would you fuck her for real?” I continued. “Not just role-playing, and not just fooling around. I mean you and Tracy, really going all the way with each other. Fucking.”

My husband took a deep breath, his face a shifting mask of arousal and uncertainty. “Are you being serious? Or is all this talk still just us playing around?”

I squeezed his rigid cock. “Jesus, Shane, after last night, I’m not even sure anymore. I don’t know where the fantasy ends and the reality begins. Just please answer the question: Do you actually want to fuck Tracy?”

His breathing turned ragged. “Yes, but—”

“But what?”

“But just ‘wanting’ something doesn’t necessarily make it a good idea, right? I mean, when someone cuts me off in traffic, I ‘want’ to ram them into a telephone pole—but I don’t.”

“So that’s a no, then?” I asked, not sure whether I was relieved or disappointed.

Shane held my gaze with those stunning eyes.

“Ria, I love you. You’re my wife and my soulmate. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“But what,” I practically choked on my own words, I was so nervous, “what if I told you it wouldn’t hurt me? What if I told you I’d be okay with it?”