Rachel getting a snack

Phoebe and I redress and head into the house together. Phoebe walks directly in front of me, constantly rubbing her ass on me, reminding me what we just did. We walk into the kitchen to find a flushed Rachel.

She lost her hair tie. Her blonde hair is a disheveled mess that sprouts everywhere. Her blue eyes widen behind her glasses when she sees us join her. She was not expecting company. At least she took the time to dress. Back in the tiny flannel shorts that show off the sexy length of her legs, and the tight white tank top that emphasizes the curve of her braless breasts. She gives an embarrassed smile, “Hey guys. What are you up to so late?”

I answer, “Phoebe decided to talk one-on-one and hash out our differences. We’ve been too mean to each other over the years. What are you up to?”

“That’s great,” Rachel points to the toaster that is currently filled with bread. “Just a little midnight snack.”

Phoebe walks up to her, and wipes something off Rachel’s cheek with one finger. She sucks it into her mouth, “Sorry. You had a little jelly on you.”

Rachel’s face brightens red, “Oh thanks. I must be a little messy when I get this drunk.”

“Oh no! What happened!? Are you okay?” Phoebe grabs Rachel wrist that still shows the indents of her teeth. The bite mark that was a result of trying to muffle her moans.

Rachel yanks her hand back, and tries to hide the mark with her other hand. “Oh it’s nothing.”

As we’re eating our midnight snack around the table, moans start to come from my room. Very familiar feminine moans, husky grunts and the rhythmic squeak of a bed frame. Rachel looks at my bedroom and then looks at me. I’m not in the room with my wife. It takes a second for it to click.

She brings her hand to her mouth as she gasps, “Oh my god! You still did the contest swap!?”

Phoebe makes a show of holding my hand, “Just because you wanted out, doesn’t mean the rest of us didn’t get to have fun.”

“Oh my…did you guys…uh…do it?” Rachel asks.

I answer, “Only once so far.”

Rachel laughs, “So far? Are you going to do it again?”

“Oh yeah!” Phoebe cheers. “We’re going to take advantage of this night. No way I’m going to find a dick this thick again.”

At the mention of my dick, Rachel glances of me but then looks away shyly when I try to make eye contact. She looks at Phoebe, “I’m not a wet blanket. I wanted to do the contest and have fun, but your husband was being such an ass. I couldn’t do it.”

“Yeah. He can be an asshole. I totally understand you backing out,” Phoebe says. “So you would’ve stayed if Joey didn’t pick you?”

“Yes,” Rachel answers.

I say, “Do you want to rejoin the contest? Joey has picked my wife so you don’t have to worry about him. And it’s my turn to pick.”

Rachel finally makes eye contact at my question.