Doing Things Differently

SARAH JACKSON

We all decided to swap. There were four of us, and over dinner one night, John and Bob started joking about it. Then more wine was poured, and we all started to discuss it in earnest. Us swapping. Mary going with my husband, John, and me going with Bob. We set a date before the night was over, and then John took me upstairs and fucked me until my knees were weak.

I really thought we’d call it off. I never thought we’d go through with it. Not until the night came and they arrived. Me and Bob to go off to one hotel, John and Mary to go off to another. We wanted neutral locations to act out our fantasies.

John kissed me goodbye, tweaked my nipple through my wrap dress, and whispered, “Have fun, be safe. I love you.”

At the hotel, I was a bundle of nerves. I wandered the lavish lobby while Bob checked us in. Then he was at my side, gripping my elbow lightly and whispering in my ear, “Time to go up. Are you ready?”

I swallowed hard but managed to nod. I didn’t think my voice would comply if I tried to speak.

We were alone on the elevator, and Bob, much bigger and broader than my John, pushed me to the back right corner and brought his lips to my own. His kiss was demanding, his tongue stroking boldly over mine. He gripped my hips and slid my dress up some so it sat high on my thighs. He’d positioned us so the obvious security camera was pointed right at us—at me pushed in a corner being manhandled and groped by someone other than my husband.

Wetness streaked my panties, and lust roared through my belly and my cunt. I was breathless.

When the doors popped open and he led me out into the hallway, I was mindless with lust.

Inside the hotel room, I stood in the center of the lush space and waited. Bob circled me like a shark. My nipples felt tight and sensitive against the bodice of my dress. He stopped directly behind me, put his mouth to the back of my neck, and my skin prickled with energy and arousal.

“What does he do to you?” he asked.

I blinked, my brain trying to unscramble what sounded to my ears like a riddle. “What?”

“What does he do to you? John. Tell me.”

As he spoke, his hands skimmed my sides, his touch igniting the skin beneath the thin black-and-taupe fabric of my dress. He cupped my breasts. He didn’t pinch or stroke my nipples; no, he simply held me in his hands and waited for me to speak, with his warm lips still pressed to my nape.

“I…he goes down on me. Almost always.” I laughed shrilly, feeling so stupid but also, oh so turned on. “To get me ready,” I resumed, my voice warbling. “And then he pushes me back and kisses me until I’m desperate and then he enters me.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I finished that sentence.

“Face-to-face?” His tongue slid along the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder, and I shivered.

“What?”

“Does your husband fuck you face-to-face?”

“Al…almost always,” I stammered as Bob’s big hands began to tug at the bow that held my wrap dress shut.

“Good to know. Thank you, sweetheart.” Then he pulled hard enough that the belt came undone and the dress sagged open.

Bob peeled the dress off me, then unhooked my bra and removed that, too. I stood there, docile and panting for breath, as he undressed me. He walked me to the mirror by pushing his chest and cock to my back and ass. When we faced the large, ornate mirror, he pulled my panties down and tossed them aside. Looking over my shoulder, his dark eyes pinned me in a mesmerizing gaze.

“Watch me,” he said. “I want to do things different than you’re used to.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist as I watched and then pulled my nether lips back to expose me. I stared, barely breathing, as he began to stroke my clit rhythmically. Every few seconds, he’d bite my earlobe, the side of my neck, the slope of my shoulder, keeping me off balance and dizzy with want.

His fingers slipped back farther, teasing my opening and gathering moisture. His left hand slipped up to cup my breast, his fingers pinching my nipple hard enough to make me gasp.

He drove his fingers into me, but only briefly, and then stroked my clit harder than I’d ever think to. I came, trembling in his arms. His dark eyes seemed darker in our reflection. His smile was wicked.

He pushed me so that I had to put my hands against the dresser below the mirror. I watched him in the glass as he found a condom and rolled it on. My pussy beat in time with my pulse, and I wondered if my knees would hold me. I’d stopped wondering if I’d go through with it and began to wonder if I could handle it.

“Spread your legs,” he said softly.

I spread them wider than they were and waited, my skin cool with anticipation as he moved in behind me. Making sure to watch me the whole time, Bob ran his cock from my ass to my slit to my clit and then back again, keeping me on edge, keeping me waiting.

I hung my head, desperate to focus on anything but my wild desire. However, he tapped my bottom with his hand, not hard enough to be a slap but definitely hard enough to get my attention.

“Eyes up. Attention on us.”

I immediately looked back up. I wondered wildly if John was fucking Mary face-to-face, missionary-style. A small laugh burst out of me; I couldn’t contain it.

“Care to share?” Before I could answer, he slipped the head of his cock into me. His fingers dug into my hips, and I heard myself sigh deeply. Then he thrust into me fast and hard, and I moaned. “Never mind,” he said softly, pinching my nipple again. “Forget I asked.”

My body rocked as he fucked me. I was pliant and soft, his willing puppet as he kept me bent at the angle he liked best. Every stroke of his cock deep inside was echoed by an almost-too-gentle stroke of his finger over my clit. At random times he’d pinch my nipple and I’d jump in his arms.

“You seem to like this.” He bit my shoulder roughly, and I found myself coming again, shaking hard in his embrace.

Bob stopped talking. He simply growled and pushed his hand to the small of my back. I leaned forward more, bending to his will, and ground back against him as he thrust deeply into me. His movements became rougher, more desperate, and I found myself squeezing my internal muscles around him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and then he was coming, his face serious and handsome. I watched him, mesmerized as he finished.

He smiled at me in the mirror. “Are you okay?”

I could only nod.

“Up for the rest of our night together?”

I felt dizzy at the prospect of the night ahead. “Yes.”

“Good. I have a lot of things I want us to try together. And I don’t want to waste a single minute.”

We didn’t waste a single minute, and a few times a year we still head off to separate hotels. Me with Bob, John with Mary. It works well for us. We look forward to it.