“Maybe we’ll need more than five minutes,” Aarav rasped, while circling her clit through her lace.
Those words struck Rohan like a trigger pulled. He got up from the couch, looming over his wife and friend with his strained cock saluting them from inside his briefs. He held out his hand for Shweta. Shweta reached out with her hand, earlier occupied with his cock, but not leaving Aarav’s.
Rohan gave her a light tug and pulled her off the couch. Startled, she fell into Rohan’s arms, her mouth crashing almost without effort onto his in a wild, wet smooch. Lips rubbing, teeth scraping, tongues colliding. It was the first unbridled kiss she’d had with her husband since the evening began.
Rohan devoured her with the fury of both a husband and a voyeur. He wasn’t sure which he enjoyed more. Was he claiming Shweta back? Or was he showing off their passion to his best friend? He couldn’t make up his mind. But he walked away from the couch until they thudded against the opposite wall.
He knew the latter was the dominant feeling. For Shweta, it was a new Rohan, or rather a different Rohan, the Rohan whose moves had broken her body the first time they had made love. She remembered him being rougher, wilder, more charged up in those first few months of intimacy.
Today seemed a recall to those moments. She felt a difference in his touch, as though something forgotten in their sexual routine had been reincarnated. She processed these thoughts as Rohan rolled his wet tongue on her lips. And then… Bam!
She realised why Rohan felt different tonight. It was right there, and she almost kicked herself for not realising sooner. Aarav! Aarav was the one transporting her and Rohan back to their first sexual shenanigans. He was the spark, the catalyst, the new variable in their perfect equation.
The thought froze her, her eyes transfixed on Rohan. She was more aware of his fingers inching up her sides. They were over her tits, squeezing, pinching, kneading with a desperation lost almost a decade back. Then down her hips, groping her ass, pulling her against his hardness.
He marked her with saliva and heat, his wife, but tonight not his alone. Shweta’s urges grew no bounds as she clasped Rohan’s torso and pulled him into hers, as though wanting to freeze the moment before it got over. She wanted more of this.
But then Aarav’s scent wafted over to her, and she realised that she may have to park the emotion for later. Rohan sensed the shift in her body language. He stood against the wall, lining up Shweta in front of him. Both of them were sitting on the couch, facing Aarav.
Rohan framed her posture. He gently raised her arms all the way up until they met mid-air. He nudged her to open her legs wide. Their heartbeats grew as they realised the gravity of the moment. But they didn’t feel as though they were on display.
They felt as if they were performing for an audience, performing their most intimate moments with someone they had grown to trust immensely. The weight of that unspoken thought caused both of them goosebumps. His lips brushed her ear, his voice a rough whisper but steady.
“Tell me, baby. Do you need Aarav in front of you right now, or am I enough for you?”
The air stilled. Shweta’s thighs trembled at the idea of being on display in all her glory, but with nothing on except her panties. Her earlier thoughts churned her stomach in equal measure of nervousness and excitement.
She breathed in deeply, searching all her thoughts for the right words, before her lips betrayed her softly.
“I… need Aarav in front of me.”
Rohan’s ears rang with those words. His cock twitched at her desire against her lower back. He whispered to her, not wounded, but proud. “Then that’s what you’ll get.”
His eyes wandered to his best friend, seated on the couch, naked except for his briefs, which did the touch job of restraining his tool.
Rohan spoke, as though almost making a declaration, “Look at her, Aarav… my wife. After all these years of loving only me, after giving me every first, every kiss, every touch… tonight, she’s aching for another man. She’s standing here in just her panties, spread open, trembling, ready to be taken to ecstasy by you. By the man she trusts as much as I do. This isn’t betrayal. This is a desire that’s bigger than the two of us. And I want her to have it.”
His words hung thick in the room, heavy with lust and ceremony. Then he raised his voice. “Come over, buddy, Aarav. Come and give her what she’s begging for.”
Aarav stared at the pair. Rohan and Shweta, the two friends he had always looked at platonically, were now inviting him to become part of them. He rose from his couch, slightly shaky, his tool bobbing in his briefs, his eyes burning into Shweta’s and Rohan’s.
He walked up to Shweta, bent his lips to hear ears and whispered, “Shweta, are you truly ready? To let me do this? To let me in… like this?”
Shweta’s chest rose sharply, making her boobs arch out, her lips shaky, but her eyes burning with a desire that she had never known. She glanced back at Rohan. He was emanating lust, not for her, but for the moment.
Without breaking eye contact, she responded with words that she knew would send Rohan into overdrive.
“Yes, Aarav. I’m ready. I’m ready for you to show me a good time, to show my husband how I can have a good time with a man other than him.” She glanced back at Aarav and whispered, “Fuck, I’ve never been more ready.”
Aarav reached for her waist, firmly driving his arm between her and Rohan, pulling her slightly away from him. With a commanding yet reverent voice, he said, “Stick out your tongue.”
She parted her lips and slowly bared her wet, quivering tongue. Her eyes were wide with anticipation, her breasts continuously heaving. Aarav leaned in. Their tongues touched… just a flick, tentative, trembling. Then again, sliding, longer. Then deeper, curling against each other in wet, obscene strokes.
Just tongue on tongue, no lips, no buffer, just raw flesh meeting. Shweta moaned into it, her hips jerking against Rohan. For the first time, she was cognizant of the difference.
Rohan’s tongue was familiar, every stroke rehearsed over years of love, every flick tethered to their routine. His tongue had always felt like home, warm, steady, safe, pulling her deeper into him.
But Aarav’s tongue? It was wild. Rougher, heavier, wetter. His strokes weren’t restrained or polished. It wasn’t home. It was fire; untamed, desperate, hungry and overwhelming. It made her moan to no end, made her legs quiver as she gushed involuntarily into her panties.
The wet fabric was clinging to the folds of her married pussy. Rohan’s cock throbbed in her crack. Gripping her stomach and between uneven breaths, he whispered into her neck. “Feel it, baby? His tongue on yours, mine on your memory? You’re being devoured from both sides.”
Aarav groaned into her mouth, his tongue lashing harder, tangling hers, commanding hers, pulling her into a kiss that was no kiss at all. Just filth, just lust. And then his eyes opened and locked with Rohan’s over her shoulder.
The sight nearly undid them both. Her body trembling, both men connected by the same fire, and in that moment, all of Rohan’s jealousy melted. He felt awe and a sense of pride. Aarav, quick to sense the change in Rohan, let go of all hesitation.
He was replacing it with a vow in his stare, “I’ll give her everything she wants, but I won’t break what you two have.” Rohan stared, responding, “I trust you, I trust both of you.”
Shweta whimpered into Aarav’s tongue, her nails clawing on his back, her body convulsing between them. She wasn’t an object passed between men. She was the axis of their hunger, and they were both orbiting her. And she loved it.
Their tongues intertwined like new lovers, exploring every ridge, making movements unknown to both despite their earlier debauchery activities. Every flick of his tongue made her heart pound with excitement. Her legs buckled, but Aarav steadied her. Like two lovers, they started building a new world.
She grew more and more conscious of Aarav’s tongue as it dragged from the tip of hers all the way to her throat and then back, all in one long stroke. His saliva coated her lips, dripping down to her chin. It was different, heavier, muskier, edged with wine and something male that made her head spin.
She found herself craving more of it, more of him. Her thoughts drifted to Rohan. His kiss tasted and smelled different. Clean minty breath. familiar and reassuring. She had kissed him thousands of times, always knowing that it was safe and permanent.
Her mouth belonged to her, always had been, always would be. But Aarav was in danger. Risk, lust, raw, hot, the adjectives overwhelmed her mind. Her body trembled because it wasn’t just spit and breath. It was the flavour of crossing a line she had never dared before.
Rohan had never touched her tongue like this, so animalistically. She whimpered into Aarav’s tongue and, instinctively, twisted her head back toward Rohan. For the briefest second, her lips grazed his cheek, her tongue leaving a smear of Aarav’s spit there.
Rohan’s heart thundered at the feel of it. His wife is tasting of another man. Then she turned her head just enough and kissed him, sloppy, desperate, tongue still wet from Aarav’s. Rohan groaned into her, the taste unmistakable. His wife’s tongue, coated with Aarav’s saliva. His cock pulsed hard against her ass.
“God… she tastes of him now.”
And instead of recoiling, he moaned harder, kissing her deeper, sucking Aarav’s flavour from her mouth like he wanted to devour it.
Shweta gasped when their lips broke. “Oh fuck… You both taste so different.”
Her voice shook as she leaned her head back against Rohan’s chest, staring at Aarav. “Rohan’s always been sweet, familiar like home. But you, Aarav, your mouth is heavy, dirty, like it wants to swallow me whole. “And I… I want both. I want all of it. Together.”
The word dropped like a spark into gunpowder. Both men froze. Rohan blinked at her, jaw tight. Together? His wife’s lips were swollen from Aarav’s mouth, spit shining at the corner. He could still taste her himself, feel the echo of her tongue in his own. And now she was asking for more. For both. At once.
Aarav stood stunned, his chest heaving with his heavy breathing. “Shweta… you… do you… Are you… You know what you’re saying, right?” He faltered, as though torn between going ahead with it and pleading with her to take it back.
She didn’t. She nodded, eyes burning, voice trembling but clear. “Yes. I want you both on me. Not one and then the other. I want to feel you together.”
The silence pressed heavily.
Rohan spoke, “Babe… do you realise what you’re asking? That means…” He hesitated, his voice dropping lower. “…my tongue and his tongue. In the same kiss. With you between us.”
She clenched at both their cocks harder as though signalling what they stood to lose if they didn’t give her what she wanted, “I know. And I fucking don’t care. You both want me, I want this. I want to be lost in both of you at once. Please.”
Aarav held her face. “Shweta… fuck… You mean everything to me at this point, but I don’t know if I can do that. I mean, Rohan and I… we’re like brothers. His gaze flicked to Rohan, almost pained. “…it feels like a line.”
Her lip trembled, but she continued steadily. “I know it’s a line. But I’ve crossed lines tonight, too.” She stared at Aarav, “I’ve let you touch me, suck me, feel me in ways I never imagined.”
Her stare switched to Rohan, “You think that wasn’t terrifying for me? But I did it because I trust you both. Because I know this… us… It’s only here. Only tonight. Only us three.”
Rohan swallowed, her words cutting deep. He wanted to believe it, but still, the thought of Aarav’s tongue brushing his made his gut tighten. Shweta sensed it. Gently, she let go of their cocks. She took their hands. First Rohan’s, then Aarav’s.
Her eyes held theirs as she guided both their hands down her torso, sliding over her boobs, her nipples, her belly. Finally slipping across the waistband of her panties until their fingers pressed against the damp heat of her pussy through the thin lace.
Her voice shook, low but feral. “Feel that? That’s mine. And it’s only for both of you. No one else. Ever. This is our secret. Our bond. Whatever happens when your tongues touch… it doesn’t leave this couch. It doesn’t leave me. I’ll keep it safe.”
The wet heat beneath their palms pulsed, sealing the vow. Rohan’s breath shook. Despite her slick pussy emanating heat on his palm, her words hit harder. This wasn’t about him and Aarav not wanting each other. It was about her wanting all of them at once.
Aarav just gulped as Shweta’s hand resumed with their cocks. He looked at Rohan, “Fuck…” he whispered. “How the hell do we say no to that?”
Rohan’s jaw was clenched, his mind still snagged on the image of Aarav’s tongue colliding with his. Aarav felt it. He turned, eyes locking with his friend’s. For once, there was no smirk, no bravado. Just a man standing on the same edge, trembling.
“Rohan,” Aarav said hoarsely, his hand still pressed over Shweta’s mound, their fingers brushing over the lace. “This isn’t about you and me. I don’t want you. You don’t want me. What’s between us doesn’t change.”
He exhaled, glancing down at Shweta, her body trembling between them. “This is about her. Your wife. My best friend’s wife. She’s begging us to give her something no one else can. Both of us, at once.”
As he spoke, his fingers shifted just slightly against the damp heat, and in the press of their palms together on Shweta’s pussy, Aarav nudged, guiding Rohan’s fingertips closer to her swollen clit. It wasn’t rough, just deliberate, a wordless urging.
Rohan felt it. The push. The invitation. For a moment, he almost pulled back his hand, but Shweta’s moan weakened his resistance. Aarav continued talking, his thumb stroking the lace as if to punctuate each word.
“She’s trusted me with everything tonight. Trusted you to let me touch her, taste her in places that were only yours until now. And she’s trusted both of us to hold this secret if she’s asking for this. How can we deny her? Not because we want it, Rohan. But because she deserves it.”
Again, his hand pressed lightly against Rohan’s, urging his best friend’s touch to mirror his own. Two sets of fingers now moved faintly together, teasing Shweta’s clit through her soaked panties.
The words and the nudges sank deep, and finally, Rohan’s shoulders eased. He looked at Shweta again, really looked. At her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, her eyes shining not with shame but hunger. His hunger. Their hunger.
And in that moment, he stopped seeing Aarav as another man’s tongue. He saw him as the only other person who could give Shweta what she craved. Shweta’s voice cut through, fragile but unyielding. “Please, both of you. Don’t make me choose. Just this once, let me have both of you together.”
Rohan’s hand clenched harder against her pussy. His throat worked as he finally nodded. Slowly. Reluctantly. But surely. Aarav gave a shaky grin, relieved, “Alright then,” he said softly, glancing between them. “For her.”
“For her,” Rohan echoed.
Shweta’s eyes fluttered closed, her chest rose high with a shuddering breath. “For us,” she whispered.
Their eyes met once more over her shoulder, and for the first time tonight, there was no hesitation left. The decision wasn’t spoken. It happened in the silence between breaths.
Rohan’s jaw was still tight, but his hand didn’t move from her pussy. Aarav’s fingers stayed right there too, stroking against his knuckles, urging him forward. And Shweta tilted her face up, lips parted, eyes glazed with hunger. “Please,” she whispered again, barely audible. “Kiss me… both of you.”
They lean in, hesitant at first. Rohan from the left, Aarav from the right. Shweta met them halfway. Her lips brushed one, then the other, panting softly as she held their wrists harder against her mound.
And then it happened. All three mouths collided. Messy. Wet. Tongues meeting, slipping, clashing. Shweta groaned, the sound muffled as both men’s tongues pushed into her, tangling with hers and inevitably brushing against each other.
Rohan stiffened at first. That first shocking contact, the alien slick of another man’s tongue brushing his own. His instinct was to jerk back, but Shweta moaned into him, clutching him tighter, and the heat of it kept him there.
Aarav didn’t flinch. He leaned into it, tasting her, tasting them, his cock straining as he devoured the mess of lips and tongues. Every accidental graze with Rohan’s tongue was a reminder. They were both here for her, both feeding her need.
Shweta lost herself completely. Her hands tightened around both their cocks through their underwear, stroking them feverishly as the three-way kiss deepened. Their spit mixed, hot and slick, sliding down her chin. She whimpered at the filth of it, at the way her body shook from the overload.
When Rohan’s tongue grazed Aarav’s again, he surprised himself. He didn’t pull away. He pressed back. Not for Aarav, but for her. To make it more intense, to make her writhe the way she was writhing now, grinding her pussy into their joined hands.
Her muffled cries vibrated against both their mouths. She was drowning in tongues, drowning in hands, drowning in the obscene closeness of her husband and her best friend, both owning her mouth.
When they finally broke apart, strings of spit clung between all three mouths. Shweta gasped, her lips swollen, her eyes dazed. She whispered hoarsely, “Oh God… that was… that was everything.”
Her whisper hung in the air like incense, trembling and obscene. “Oh God… that was… that was everything.”
Rohan’s cock twitched hard in her hand. Something broke loose in him… not fear, not doubt. Hunger. Ownership. A filthy pride that his Shweta, naked, flushed and horny, had just begged for the dirtiest kiss of her life. And he had delivered her request.
“Then let’s not stop,” he growled, voice husky. He grabbed them both by the napes and dragged them back in, sealing their mouths together again.
This time, the hesitation was gone. Rohan plunged his tongue deep into her… and Aarav met them there, his own tongue joining, sliding, tangling in the wet mess. The three of them groaned into the kiss, filthy and frantic, tongues colliding like they’d been born to share her.
“Mmmmhh… ah!” Shweta whimpered into them, her body shaking. And yet for Rohan, there was more. In that tangled mess of mouths, his chest swelled with something sharp and unexpected: gratitude. Aarav had been the one to unlock this side of Shweta.
The one to make her filthy confessions tumble out, the one to show him pleasures he’d never dared ask for. He felt indebted and desperate to give something back. So, when he yanked them both closer, his tongue didn’t just seek Shweta’s.
He wrestled hard to give it to Aarav, pressing, sliding, almost offering. It wasn’t lust for his friend, not attraction. It was surrender, repayment, the most he could physically give to the man who was giving them this night. For a moment, their tongues tangled deliberately, rough and messy.
Rohan’s whole body clenched at the weight of what he was doing.
“Fuck, ” Aarav groaned into the kiss, shocked by the taste, the sheer dirtiness of it.
Aarav jolted. This was a moment he could have never imagined. He wasn’t bisexual. Yet, the feel of his best friend’s tongue did not repulse him, did not make him pull back. He stared into Rohan’s eyes. They did not express attraction or desperation.
No, this wasn’t about lust between him and Rohan. This was about trust, about filth, about Rohan’s way of saying, ” Take her, she’s yours tonight too. Aarav felt it in the pressure, the push, the way Rohan didn’t retreat but leaned harder for that brief, scorching second.
It wasn’t gay. It was brotherhood made obscene; a bond smeared with spit and lust. And it broke something loose in Aarav, his resistance, his fear, all of it burned away. He groaned low into the kiss, accepting it, answering Rohan with equal force before letting it melt back into the three-way frenzy.
Shweta whimpered, overwhelmed with the new format of slick saliva exchange. The three-way kiss overwhelmed her before she again lost herself in their touches down below. And then within moments, a new rhythm took birth, the wet three-way kiss dissolving into pure kink.
Shweta whimpered against them, “Ah… oh God.” Her hands refused to let go of either cock. She gripped them both harder, circling their tips, which had already dampened their underwear. She could feel the veins in her arms tensing and trembling.
Her moans were subdued by the frenzy of lips on hers. Her husband and his best friend are rubbing her pussy and cupping her heart over her drenched panties. Each of them massaging the folds on their sides, their fingers brushing against each other, making their cocks jolt with excitement at every touch.
“Fuck,” Aarav gasped against her lips. Shweta’s moans rose higher with every move of theirs, her juices now beginning to trickle down her thighs. “Ah, yes, more… mmm fuck!”
Her hips gyrated as though asking for more. She realised that the panty was dampening their touch. Without breaking the kiss, she deliberately moved her thighs, catching Rohan’s finger at her hip joint and nudging him to go in.
Rohan’s chest heaved. He caught Shweta’s nudge and his mind made the decision. Slowly, deliberately, he nudged Aarav’s hand away as he proceeded to expose the last of his wife’s modesty. Shweta gasped into their mouths and then.
Rohan’s thumb hooked under the edge of her panties. She moaned and pulled both of them closer, with her lips as well as her hands. Rohan continued peeling the damp fabric.
The panty clung to Shweta’s folds, almost indignant about not giving up what it shielded. Finally, with a wet squelch, it gave way.
A sweet scent rose through the air. It had been subtle throughout the evening, until now. The scent of Shweta’s bare pussy spilt and grew thick, coating them all. It glistened with her juices in the dim light of the room.
The air shifted… thicker, hungrier.
“Oh, fuck,” Aarav hissed, his breath ragged. He froze, stunned, eyes flying open. He locked on Rohan instantly, wide and questioning. “Do you really want this? You want me to touch your wife’s bare pussy?”
Rohan’s answer wasn’t in words. His tongue brushed Aarav’s mid-kiss, this time not retreating, not dodging, but nudging… a filthy push that meant: “Yes. Do it.”
“Ah…oh… fuck, yes,” Shweta whimpered, catching it. She felt it. Rohan’s tongue nudging Aarav’s, that silent exchange between them. Her whole body pulsed. The moan that ripped out of her shook through both their mouths. She tugged Aarav’s tongue into hers deeper, sucking at it.
It was dragging him in as if she could push his whole body forward with just that kiss. Her hips rolled hard, dripping, begging silently.
Next part coming soon. Write to us at [email protected].