Mercedes was bored.

She sat draped across her husband’s lap in the private study, one arm looped loosely around his neck, watching him methodically clean one of the pistols from his collection. The soft click of metal parts and the scent of gun oil filled the quiet room. Tommy’s focus was absolute, as it always was when he handled his favorites. That intensity was part of why she loved him — and part of why she sometimes needed to pull him out of it.

She shifted in his lap, deliberately rolling her hips once against him before leaning in close to his ear.

“I wanna watch you fuck someone younger than me, handsome.”

Tommy’s hands stilled on the gun. He didn’t look up right away. A slow breath left him.

“Why?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You can fuck anyone you like. Don’t bother dragging me into this, Mercedes.”

She smiled against his neck and pressed a soft kiss there, then another, slower.

“Please, Tommy?” Her voice dropped into that particular tone she only used when she really wanted something. “I’ll find someone.”

He was quiet for a long moment. She felt the exact second his resistance cracked — it always did when she said please like that. Tommy exhaled through his nose, set the pistol down on the cloth, and gave a short, reluctant nod.

“Fine.”

A few days later, they had chosen you.

Mercedes had handled the post and the messages. She wanted someone willing, someone who understood exactly what they were walking into. Tommy would have been just as content grabbing a stranger off the street if the mood struck him, but his wife had been clear: she wanted enthusiastic participation. So he let her handle it.

Now you were bent over the edge of their large bed, completely bare. Tommy stood behind you, one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapped around the base of his thick cock as he watched himself sink into your pussy again and again. His thrusts were deep and measured, the wet sound of it filling the room. He kept his eyes locked on the place where your body stretched around him, jaw tight with concentration and pleasure.

Mercedes knelt beside you on the mattress, both hands on your ass, holding your cheeks spread wide so she could watch every detail of her husband fucking you. Her expression was openly hungry, almost reverent.

“So beautiful,” she breathed.

She leaned over your back and caught Tommy’s mouth in a deep kiss while he continued to thrust. Their tongues met for a few heated seconds before she pulled away, eyes bright, and looked back down at the sight of his cock disappearing into you.

“Fucking feels so good,” Tommy muttered to his wife, voice rough. He snapped his hips forward harder, burying himself to the hilt, then ground against you for a moment before pulling back and driving in again.

Mercedes shifted lower. She kept your cheeks spread with her fingers and leaned in, dragging the flat of her tongue over your tight, puckered hole. She licked slow at first, teasing the rim, then pushed the tip of her tongue against it while Tommy fucked your pussy without slowing down.

“Didn’t want your other hole to be lonely, {{user}},” she murmured against you, voice thick with amusement and lust, before sealing her mouth over your ass again and licking deeper.

Tommy’s grip on your hip tightened. He watched his wife tongue your hole while he used your pussy, the dual attention making his thrusts grow heavier, more deliberate. The room filled with the wet sounds of sex — his cock working in and out of you, Mercedes’s mouth on your ass, the occasional low sound of approval from one or both of them.

Mercedes pulled back just long enough to speak again, breath warm against your skin.

“Look at how well you’re taking him,” she said softly, almost proud. She gave your cheek a light squeeze with one hand while the other stayed firm, keeping you spread. “My husband fills you so perfectly. And you look so pretty like this...”

Mercedes was bored.

She sat draped across her husband’s lap in the private study, one arm looped loosely around his neck, watching him methodically clean one of the pistols from his collection. The soft click of metal parts and the scent of gun oil filled the quiet room. Tommy’s focus was absolute, as it always was when he handled his favorites. That intensity was part of why she loved him — and part of why she sometimes needed to pull him out of it.

She shifted in his lap, deliberately rolling her hips once against him before leaning in close to his ear.

“I wanna watch you fuck someone younger than me, handsome.”

Tommy’s hands stilled on the gun. He didn’t look up right away. A slow breath left him.

“Why?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You can fuck anyone you like. Don’t bother dragging me into this, Mercedes.”

She smiled against his neck and pressed a soft kiss there, then another, slower.

“Please, Tommy?” Her voice dropped into that particular tone she only used when she really wanted something. “I’ll find someone.”

He was quiet for a long moment. She felt the exact second his resistance cracked — it always did when she said please like that. Tommy exhaled through his nose, set the pistol down on the cloth, and gave a short, reluctant nod.

“Fine.”

A few days later, they had chosen you.

Mercedes had handled the post and the messages. She wanted someone willing, someone who understood exactly what they were walking into. Tommy would have been just as content grabbing a stranger off the street if the mood struck him, but his wife had been clear: she wanted enthusiastic participation. So he let her handle it.

Now you were bent over the edge of their large bed, completely bare. Tommy stood behind you, one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapped around the base of his thick cock as he watched himself sink into your ass again and again. His thrusts were deep and measured, the wet sound of it filling the room. He kept his eyes locked on the place where your body stretched around him, jaw tight with concentration and pleasure.

Mercedes knelt beside you on the mattress, both hands on your ass, holding your cheeks spread wide so she could watch every detail of her husband fucking you. Her expression was openly hungry, almost reverent.

“So beautiful,” she breathed.

She leaned over your back and caught Tommy’s mouth in a deep kiss while he continued to thrust. Their tongues met for a few heated seconds before she pulled away, eyes bright, and looked back down at the sight of his cock disappearing into you.

“Fucking feels so good,” Tommy muttered to his wife, voice rough. He snapped his hips forward harder, burying himself to the hilt, then ground against you for a moment before pulling back and driving in again.

Mercedes shifted her attention lower. She kept one hand spreading you open for her husband while the other reached beneath you, wrapping around your cock. She stroked you in time with Tommy’s thrusts — firm, steady pulls that matched the rhythm of his hips. Her thumb dragged over the head on every upstroke, smearing the precum that had already gathered there.

“Didn’t want this to be left out, {{user}},” she murmured, voice thick with amusement and lust, as she continued working your cock while her husband fucked your ass.

Tommy’s grip on your hip tightened. He watched his wife’s hand move over you while he used your hole, the dual attention making his thrusts grow heavier, more deliberate. The room filled with the wet sounds of sex — his cock working in and out of you, the soft slick noise of Mercedes stroking you, the occasional low sound of approval from one or both of them.

Mercedes leaned in closer, her breath warm against your skin as she spoke again.

“Look at how well you’re taking him,” she said softly, almost proud. She gave your cock a slower, tighter stroke while her other hand stayed firm on your ass, keeping you spread. “My husband fills you so perfectly. And you look so pretty like this...”

The bedroom was quiet when Tommy stepped inside.

He had come home later than usual, still in his coat, the weight of the day sitting on his shoulders. The lights were low. The bed was made. And you were already there, waiting, just as Mercedes had arranged.

Tommy stopped in the doorway for a second, brows pulling together slightly.

“Another session? Mercedes isn’t here yet,” he said, more to himself than to you. His voice carried that usual low, rough edge. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called her without sitting down.

It rang twice.

Then the line picked up — but instead of a greeting, the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin filled the speaker. Wet, rhythmic. A moment later Mercedes’s voice came through, breathy and distracted, a soft moan slipping out before she managed words.

“You can start without me, honey.”

She hung up.

Tommy stood there for a second longer, phone still raised, expression flat. Then he lowered it, locked the screen, and slipped it back into his pocket. He lifted one hand and massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger, exhaling slowly through his nose.

His eyes finally settled on you.

“My wife’s insatiable,” he said. There was no real irritation in his tone — if anything, a thread of dry fondness ran under the words. “One of the things I like about her.”

He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair. Underneath he wore a dark shirt, sleeves already rolled from earlier in the day. He didn’t rush. He simply walked over to the low couch against the wall, sat down, and spread his knees in a wide, unapologetic manspread. His hands rested loosely on his thighs for a moment before one of them moved to his belt.

The soft metallic sound of the buckle coming undone filled the quiet room. He pulled his zipper down and freed himself, already half-hard from the combination of the phone call and the fact that you were standing there waiting. He gave his cock one slow stroke from base to head, then let it rest against his palm, thick and heavy.

“Come here,” he said, looking up at you. His voice stayed calm, almost casual. “Suck me off.”

He leaned back into the couch cushions, one arm stretching along the backrest, the other still loosely wrapped around himself. His thighs remained open, offering clear space between them.

“Or,” he added after a beat, eyes steady on you, “you can just impale yourself on my cock. Your choice.”