Stay with my wife while Phoebe cleans up

“I’ll stay,” I say, then look at Phoebe, “Hurry back so we can have a proper threesome.”

She sprints out the door. Her plump ass jiggling. Damn she looks good.

My wife grabs my face and forces me to look at her. “You want to have a proper threesome, huh?”

“Uh yeah. We’ve already done oral, might as well make a night of it,” I say. Shit. I might have steps out of bounds. My wife explicitly said not to fuck Phoebe and I just invited her to a threesome.

Monica looks like she debating in her mind, and finally says, “Sure. We can have a threesome. We haven’t had sex in months. You deserve a reward, but only tonight. We’re not inviting Phoebe into our bed again.”

Yes! I smile, “You’re the best.”

“I know,” smirks my wife. “But if we have this threesome, I want you to take control and be vocal. I think it’s hot when you talk during sex.”

“I can do that. I know what you like,” I say.

Phoebe walks back into the room, cleaned face and completely naked, her hair tied back. The pierced nipples, the trailing tattoo, the perfectly sculpted pubic hair: she could easily be a Suicide Girl model. She grins when she sees me staring. “Y’all ready to do this?”