The Table Burns

Iris and I were still giggling; breathless, shaky; when the restroom door clicked shut behind Sabrina.

My fingers were coated thick in her sweetness, glistening from her arousal that still dripped down my skin in warm trails.

We looked at each other; cheeks flushed, eyes wide, pupils blown dark with shared shock and want that made my clit throb harder.

Her words echoed in my skull, dark and commanding:

I’m gonna fuck your boyfriend… make you watch… fill every tight hole we offer him at night…

She hadn’t asked. She’d declared.

And the way she’d said it; certain, like she was already picturing Joe’s thick cock disappearing inside her while we waited our turn; had lit something inside me.

I’d always fantasized about sharing Joe with other women.

But until today, Iris had been the only one I could picture; her small, perfect body, her moans mixing with mine, her cunt stretched around him coming apart.

Sabrina had cracked the door wide open.

Skye’s pierced nipples flashing in my mind.

Kayla’s lush curves, dark skin bent over a dressing table.

Cherry bouncing on him like she was made for it.

And Sabrina; tiny, bubbly, confident as hell; riding him slow, then slamming down hard, making him groan her name while she commanded us to lick her clean afterward.

The image made my pussy clench so hard I nearly moaned aloud.

“Stud?” Iris whispered, voice shaky but smiling.

She read my mind; always did.

My Joe; soon to be our Joe; with a parade of gorgeous women opening themselves to him every night while he lived his dream.

It should’ve made me jealous. Instead it made my heart race with erotic fire.

I had no doubt he could handle them.

He’d fucked me three times today; the dressing room, our hotel room, the shower, and he barely broke a sweat, cock still hard, thick, ready.

He’d leave them all wrecked and leaking, just like he left me.

“We’d better get out there,” I whispered, voice hoarse.

We smoothed our dresses; hiding the evidence of our soaked thighs, though the scent of arousal still clung to us both.

My fingers were still shiny with Iris’s sweetness, I didn’t wipe them clean.

Joe needed to taste her.

We slipped back to the table just as the chef was putting the final touches on dessert.

Thin wedges of peach arranged like delicate petals around a perfect quenelle of house-made vanilla ice cream, sugar-dusted and torched until the edges caramelized into a brittle, golden shield.

A slow, dark drizzle of melted chocolate pooled and hardened in glossy ribbons across the top.

It was almost too beautiful to eat... almost.

Sabrina sat close to Joe, knees brushing his under the table, holding his hand.

“Leo, huh?” she purred, tracing a finger along his palm. “Passionate and expressive… probably why I’m so enamored by your work.”

Joe’s goosebumps rose visibly on his neck.

She smiled wider.

“It also says you’re invested… with a tendency to never quit.”

Iris and I shared a look; silent, wicked.

“Would you agree with that, ladies?” Sabrina asked, eyes flicking between us. “Joe being passionate and expressive?”

Iris nodded, voice soft but sure.

“I know he’ll be passionate about the project.”

I grinned, eyes narrowing on Joe’s.

“And I can attest he’s just as passionate in bed.”

Joe nearly buckled; cheeks flaming, cock visibly twitching under the table.

Sabrina and we laughed; sinful, low, an “oh my” slid from her glossy lips.

“Lucky ladies,” she said, voice dripping with promise.

Subtlety had left the building.

We weren’t coy anymore.

Emily and I fed Joe; forks loaded with peach and cream, chocolate dripping from the tines.

We took turns sliding the bites past his lips, watching his tongue catch every drop, his cheeks flushing deeper with each brazen move.

Sabrina watched us, smiling; knowing, approving, already part of the secret.

She didn’t blink when I dragged my finger; still faintly coated in Iris’s arousal; through a swirl of chocolate on the plate and brought it to Joe’s mouth.

He opened for me without hesitation, sucking the digit clean, eyes darkening as the taste hit him.

Chocolate.

Iris.

His pupils blew wide.

He knew exactly what he was tasting now.

I bit my lip hard enough to sting.

The image burned into me; Joe’s head between Iris’s thighs tonight, tongue tracing a slow, filthy signature across her clit while I sucked her nipples.

His mouth sealing over her, drinking her down, humming against her folds until she shattered.

We kept peppering him; teasing, feeding him, letting our hands linger, our thighs brush his under the table.

Dessert disappeared slowly; each bite savored, lips licked, eyes locked.

By the time the plates were cleared, I was shaking with want; aching to drag them both back to the suite, tear their clothes off, and finally break every stupid barrier we’d ever built.

We thanked Sabrina; Joe especially, voice thick with gratitude for the pampering, the opportunity, the belief.

We’d get to work on it tomorrow.

Tonight… tonight was for us.

One more ride away from everything.

From clothes being shed.

From Iris’s moans joining mine.

The night was young.

And we were already burning.