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  Stop licking my husband’s balls.” She imbued her voice with the commanding tone she often used at work.

  He sighed, breath fanning out against the damp skin of her thigh, and then leaned back, still fisting his cock.

  “You were bad, weren’t you little one?”

  Miller slipped free from her sated pussy and she whimpered at the loss, a trail of seed dripping as he withdrew. She liked that. Liked the evidence of his want, need and satisfaction that he got from their fucking.

  Jackson’s gaze was on the ground between her feet, but she could still see the red blush tinting his cheeks.

  Miller stepped away and slumped into one of their folding chairs, legs spread out before him, satisfied smile radiating his handsome face, single brow arched. “How are you going to punish this boy, baby?”

  Her pussy clenched. Wanting to be filled. Again. Oh, how she wished she could use the boy for her own gain before she let him seek his pleasure. The young man she didn’t know anything about other than his name. No, toying with him trumped what her pussy wanted. She had to admit she was having fun.

  She thought for a moment. Jackson’s cock was still incredibly hard, the crown red and leaking with pre-cum.

  “Little one, look at me.” He raised his eyes, moving with an agonizing slowness that almost had her snapping at him. “The deal was I come, you come. You were supposed to lick me. Only, you didn’t just pleasure me, did you?” Jackson swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. He whispered, so soft she barely heard him. “No, ma’am.”

  She squatted down in front of him, her husband’s seed dripping from her pussy.

  “So now, instead of my mouth or my pussy, you get to use your own hand.” Miller spoke up. “For the record, I for one enjoyed your little act of revolt.” Doubly interesting.

  Jackson smirked for a split second, there and gone again, but she saw it. She also saw more than a passing interest between the boy and her husband, giving her all kinds of wicked, dirty ideas. The things she would, could do with the two of them…ooh…

  The thought had her pussy clenching again, an unexpected shiver causing goose bumps to form along her sweaty skin.

  Carrie rose and reclined on the other chair, this one low to the ground and positioned for tanning rather than sitting comfortably. It also placed her at an ideal height for easy fucking when Miller was feeling lazy.

  Legs spread, she beckoned Jackson over. “Come here. I want you to look at my pussy as you come, boy. Show me how much you want me and then we’ll go from there, yes?”

  She sifted through her damp curls, fingers playing in the abundant moisture there, the combined juices of her and Miller soaking her skin.

  Jackson palmed his cock, hand moving easily up and down his erection, his skin glistening in the morning sun as he approached. His other hand went back to the tiny, tanned nipple on his left side, pinching and pulling on the bit of flesh as he jerked off.

  His gaze centered on her pussy, the young man’s hips pumped, humping air, fucking his hand, pre-cum still emerging in a steady dribble from the head of his dick.

  He twisted his nipple, face reflecting the pain he felt, yet he continued to do so, giving Carrie a clue as to what turned her plaything on.

  She wanted his orgasm, wanted the stranger’s cum to coat her. She needed this.

  Maybe for him, this was just a chance to get his rocks off with an older woman, but for Carrie, it now went beyond the game they played. All joking aside, this young man’s pleasure belonged to her for these few moments, and she was eager to cherish every second of it.

  “You want to come for me, boy?” she asked, knowing full well Jackson was ready to explode.

  “Yes…y-yes, ma’am.”

  “Want to come all over my pussy, rub it in and lick it off?” Damn she had a dirty mouth.

  He shuddered, whole body shaking harder than she’d seen these last few moments. “God, yes.”

  “I bet you want to fuck me. Have your dick pumping in and out of me while my husband watches. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Carried urged his climax along by continuing to talk dirty, turning herself on in the process.

  “I would, ma’am, I really would.” He was breathing hard, pants and moans mixing with his pleas. Body still trembling, his hand stroked faster and faster, dick leaking more and more of his precious fluid, fingers sliding up and down his shaft.

  “Come for me, then,” she ordered, snapping out the words liked she’d always wanted to. The games with Miller were always fun and she enjoyed them, but none had been anything close to this. Hadn’t left her feeling high and sated and needy all at the same time.

  Bending his legs, Jackson hovered over her, aiming his dick near her pussy. Fluid shot from the head of Jackson’s cock, streaming toward her, on her, covering her cunt in his hot liquid. He fell forward and onto the ground, convulsing, sobbing with pleasure, head coming to rest on her lap, face against her crotch. She stroked his hair, murmuring to him. “Such a good boy…shh…you did so good.”

  She’d never played like this, had never felt the need to comfort. Miller hadn’t ever been this way with her. Submitting because she’d ask him to, yes, but her husband never fell apart at the end. Not like this young stranger.

  Jackson nuzzled her, easing closer with each passing second until his upper half practically lay in her lap. Seemingly comfortable, he released a soft sigh.

  Carrie looked over at her husband, expecting to see…to see something other than the look she got. He appeared pleased. Happy almost.

  Miller raised a single brow. “So I did good too, right, hon?”

  “You set this up?” Carrie asked, shaking her head, narrowing her eyes.

  Instead of Miller, Jackson answered. He nodded against her and licked her skin.

  “He caught me staring at you…at the station. Pulled me aside and told me exactly what to do. What you needed for me to do. Chance of a lifetime. How could I say no?” He shrugged. “Trust me, one look at you and it was an easy decision for me to make.” Jackson ran his fingers along her thigh. “God, you’re beautiful.” The boy’s attention wandered to Miller. “And your husband, ahem, makes me kinda want to switch teams.”

  Carrie smiled at his candid confession and stroked the boy’s head. “He does, does he?” Lowering her voice, she said, “You know, he used to dabble a bit with guys just like you before we got married.”

  He moaned and burrowed even closer. She reciprocated the sound of contentment when she saw that his cock was hard again.

  “Hmm? What’s that?” Miller asked, perking up from his chair.

  “Oh, nothing, darling, nothing at all. Besides, it’s between Jackson, the great outdoors and this little tattletale over here. You had your fun setting this whole thing up, so now it’s my turn to do you one better.” Grinning ear to ear, Carrie couldn’t help but egg her husband on. “I think Jackson’s sweet on you, love. And I was just telling him about that little secret of yours.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Gia Blue writes smut because she’s been cursed with an unbelievably dirty mind.

  Every erotic thought has her putting pen to paper, and then releasing the stories to all of the naughty people in the world to enjoy. A self-proclaimed whore and nympho, she’s now an ex-stripper turned smut writer, ever since she traded in her pole for a Mac.

  She’s embarked on an important mission to convert everyone who reads her books into jolly, one-handed readers. She’d shake your hand, but it looks like you’re busy. You can also stalk me on twitter! http://twitter.com/smutastic or check out my website at http://giablue.com

  To be notified of any new releases from Gia, join her mailing list!

  http://giablue.com/freemailinglist/

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