Just as he had on almost every weekday for the past seven years, Robert, in his black slacks and half-shined shoes, unlocked and walked through the front door of his home.  His pressed, button-up dress shirt, barely clinging to its once-deep tuck.  The sleeves on his arm unbuttoned and rolled up.  His hair still neat, but lacking the tight-placement it had when he left the house that morning. 

That state of well-earned dishevelment came alongside an expectation that his evening would be no different than the night before, and the night before that.  One in which he and his beautiful wife would sit down for dinner, a movie, and thereafter, whatever sex the hardworking husband had the energy for. 

Those expectations were quickly erased, however, as on the couch he expected to crash down into with a heavy sit, he found his wife sitting with another.  A young girl.  One, who, like his wife , was a brunette wearing nothing but a pair of red bra and panties, their styles and brands different, though to his untrained eye, they were the same.

In that state of dress, the bodies of the two women remained placed, even upon his entrance, each turned towards the other. 

Their eyes not pulling apart or away, even as he walked through the door. 

The only acknowledgement of his arrival coming from his wife, Alayna, in the form of a calm, loving request.  “Come sit, honey.” She said simply. 

The request gave him pause, if only because of the possibilities it and the moment he seemed to have walked in on presented — it looking similar to others he had seen before. 

“This is Sammy.”  Alayna introduced, though still, she pulled not her eyes from the deep, matching gaze she found herself in with the beautiful brunette sitting before her.  One who could be no older than eighteen or nineteen, though her body seemed as mature and curvaceous as his wife’s. A woman of thirty, even if she didn’t look it. 

“Hi, Sammy.” Robert responded kindly, as he found his way to the soft, beige armchair that sat across from and angled towards the pair. 

“Hi….” Sammy answered, as she moved her left hand to one of Alayna’s blissfully thick thighs. 

“I met her on that Tangler app I’ve been telling you about.” Explained Robert’s wife, as her own right hand moved to Sammy’s and grasped it gently. 

“Oh…? Well it looks like you found quite the match.  Her body and yours are so sim….” As his words continued, Alayna interrupted. 

“Why do you think I chose her, dear? You know how particular I can be.” Though Alayna spoke calmly, and moved little — the girl across from her began to shift her legs nervously.  Her anxiousness palpable, even if the cause was unknown to he who had walked in on them. 

“I do.” Said Robert quickly. Sensing, by his wife’s swift interruption, that she wanted him to speak less and watch more.

“She’s here to fuck you, honey. If she can make me cum, before I make her do the same.”  As if the words, the idea, and the consequence of each were the most natural thing in the world, Alayna announced them in front of Robert and her rival. 

“Would you like that?”  His wife followed up, her eyes still lost in their seemingly endless gaze. 

“You know I love playing the prize, dear.”  Robert replied with a coy smile, not wanting to seem overly focused on Sammy or presumptive of her victory. 

“We’ve been chatting on the app for a few weeks now.  Sammy here has had two sexfights already.”  At the comment, partial though it was, Sammy’s thigh placed hand squeezed, she not wanting Alayna to reveal that in those fights, she had lost.  Both times to another man’s wife — a woman named Brenda.

“That’s more than most.” Again Robert chimed in quickly, as his eyes laid on the sexy, half-naked women before him.  One he knew, and the other he had only just met.

“Can we….” Timidly, Sammy began to ask and then trailed off.  She, normally a fount of confidence, earned or not, feeling entirely out-of-place. Not because she was uncomfortable next to Alayna, who she trusted more and more with every second that passed. But instead, in talking about what was about to happen in front of the man she wished to claim. 

Not to marry. 

Not forever. 

But for a single night. 

Lesser stakes that still made her wish, quizzically, that Robert wasn’t there.  

Wasn’t watching them.  

Even though a moment after their battle, were she to win, Sammy intended to fuck him.  Fiercely.  Ferociously.  And harder than any man she had ever fucked in her life. 

A desire and a discomfort Alayna could see in Sammy’s emotion-wet eyes, all as she, without announcement, leaned in.  Leaned past.  And then in a whisper that Robert couldn’t hear, spoke. 

Hidden though the words were, Sammy, at their hearing, nodded.  Softly.   Her bottom lip rolling up and under the teeth above them.  Her thigh-holding hand sliding up, along with her other.  The digits on them spreading and gliding up Alayna’s skin until they closed around her sides. 

“No speaking, dear. Until this is over.”  Alayna gave as a final instruction, before pulling back from her deep lean.  Its guidance being one she had never given before, though it made sense.  After all, Sammy appeared more nervous than the other girls his wife had brought home and then conquered.  She not having looked at Robert once since he arrived home. 

Even though he was to play the thing she was fighting for. 

Even though he would be her prize, should she make his wife release. 

Despite that state of disinterest or even fear, Robert nodded as he sat back in his plush chair.  His role for the night set.  The limitations placed on him clear and more than acceptable. He having long ago grown accustomed to abiding by the dictates that came with his wife’s peculiar fetish. 

In fact, Robert was more than willing, more than happy, and more than excited to simply sit and watch his gorgeous wife compete. With any woman she chose to bring home, but especially Sammy. 

She, more than all others, because to Robert, the young woman looked like his wife had when first they met in high school. Not that he was unhappy with how Alayna had aged, but because he was positively thrilled by the idea of seeing the woman he loved battle sexually the woman he fell in love with. So much so, that it made the hair on his arms stand on end, his heart skip not just solitary beats but multiples of them, and his already hardening cock to beg for its release from zipper and cloth.

A pleading that grew louder, if only in Robert’s head, as suddenly and without a sound meant to signify, his wife and Sammy leaned into each other and kissed.

Softly. 

Gently. 

And most excitingly, slowly. Neither woman rushing or pushing for their arranged war of womanly ways to move at a quicker pace. Each knowing and certain, because of the app on which they met, of the others commitment to what they were beginning. All while also being sure that the prize over which they fought wanted it to.

To be present and experience the glory that the ad on Tangler had promised. 

To watch his wife face off with a challenger, not because he pressured her to, but because it turned her on. 

And finally, to hear the beautiful symphony of pleasure and resistance that would soon fill the room in which he sat. 

Robert in his own chair, and Alayna and Sammy facing one another on the couch before him. Both the latter and the former, as they continued to kiss with eyes closed, reaching down with opposing hands and between each others thighs. 

Their fingers extending, slipping beneath panties, and then as each shuddered and broke from their kiss, into the entrances of each others sacred valleys. An incursion that left each, in their closeness, to mutter a curse at one another, the hot breath used splashing against the face of their rival. 

“Bitch….” Alayna almost whispered, her wavering voice making clear how lost in the moment and her challenger’s touch she was. 

“Slut….” That same challenger responded, with no more control.  She, making such clear, as she shifted her head left and then right, rubbing the tip of her nose against that of the wife she sought to conquer, though in so doing, she summoned her back to their gentle kiss. 

A kiss that resumed with Alayna once more pressing her lips into Sammy’s. The same parting and pressing, as between them tongues met and danced in the warm and wavering breaths they shared. 

Breaths which pitched into sound as fingers drove deeper. Strove further. And then, after a few, essence-aided glides, quickened. 

The pace would kill him, Robert was sure. It was sensual and methodical — patient and passionate, and watching it was pure torture for a man who had seen more than his fair share of his wife’s entanglements. 

Battles which were similar in pronounced purpose and carnal character, but different in kind from what he saw taking place before him. As though the women his wife had brought home had been beautiful and skilled, Alayna’s attention had always seemed split between them and him.

The would-be usurper, and the man that she and her rival were fighting for. The former being a tool — her tool, to turn the latter and herself on. 

An attention, from the very moment Robert got home, that he could feel in its utter absence. 

Not absent, in that it had gone missing or was being denied by a wife conveying some unspoken anger. But instead in that Sammy had taken it. 

Stolen it.

A novelty that did not irritate Robert, or threaten his ego, but instead transformed what had become a game that he and his wife played from time to time, into something different. Something incredible. Something that drove him wild with desire. 

Alayna had finally found what she was looking for. The one she had always talked about. The one she had spent years searching out and on so very many nights described.

“Her match” as she would put it. “Her perfect rival”, she would say with a sigh before collapsing back on the bed disappointed. 

A rival whose voice moved from a low, satisfied, humm of a moan to a tiny, bouncing whimpers as Alayna once more pulled back from their long, simmering kiss. A string of saliva hanging on and then arching like a valley between their bottom lips. A connection which only broke free when the older of the two women began to speak, “Brenda … taught you well.” Her voice clearly affected by the pleasure Sammy’s driving fingers were giving. 

“Brenda didn’t….” The young Samantha began, before her voice cut off and head turned to the side to hide a sudden spike of pleasure. She only finishing her denial when the intensity had passed. “….teach me anything.”

“I will.” The response was immediate and certain — aggressive and yet reassuring, delivered by an Alyana who surged up from her deep kneel to a raised one. The wife’s hands moving with her, from soft lays and knuckle-sunk drives, to Sammy’s hair. A removal and grip the young brunette then matched and mirrored. Not to stroke, but to pull one another up and together. Their still red lingerie adorned bodies meeting and pressing, just as the sound of a deep, nose-taken breath escaped their once-again joining lips. 

Their new kiss playing centrifuge to a roiling, reeling, back and forth struggle of two women wanting to overwhelm and topple the other. Not with violent pushing or tactics of force, but instead by focusing their every effort on making the other want to give in. 

To the pleasure. 

To the moment.

Each looking to drive the other beyond their intent to resist and counter, if only for a second. A blink. A single clicking of hands on a clock in which they would forget struggle and strain, and just fall. And though each was certain they would be the one to earn as much from the other, for so very long, they instead remained. 

At their zenith and on their knees on the couch. Each, with their rival, twisting gently one way and then the other. Leaning back and then forward. Their kiss intensifying as closed eyes opened, only to seal back shut when seeing the passion in those of their rival was too much for them to bear. 

As difficult as it was for Alayna and Sammy to see the lust behind each others eyes, it was tenfold as hard for Robert. To watch his wife, for perhaps the first time, struggle to overcome — to overwhelm — and to reach a stalemate so early in a battle.

An unexpected gift that kept the fought-over husband trapped and chained in the most blissful sort of agony. His hands sweaty and buried between his slack-adorned thighs and the arms of his chair. Knowing, as painful as it would be, that his cock should be saved for the winner of the contest playing out before him. 

For the woman who earned and stole it jealously from the others orgasm-stilled hands, lipstick-smeared lips, and essence-drained kitten.

Contrary efforts of conquest that hung in the balance a few feet from his arm chair and on the other side of a modern, metal and glass coffee table. The brilliance of the display making seconds melt into minutes, and minutes meter in the mind like ages, as on teetering knees his wife and the girl she had for so long sought tilted this way and that. Until finally, and to Robert’s surprise, Alayna collapsed backwards. Not with Sammy atop her, but alone.

The look on the thirty-something’s face telling the tale of how bereft she was at that moment of the will to resist or do anything other than wait for her young rival to come for her. And come for her, she did only seconds after that unexpected fall. The young Tangler user then reaching down, and yanking at at the prone wife’s panties. Dragging them down and then off of long, toned legs, which raised in allowance and then spread in the same. 

A parting which allowed Sammy to shift back, drop down, and then latch her mouth onto the bare, sweet-scented pussy of the woman who’s advertisement had drawn her to Robert’s home. 

“Fuuuuckkk.” Alayna cried out at the application of lips and tongue. Her eyes closed and head resting on the far arm of the wicker-patterned couch. 

“You bitch….” Came Alayna’s voice, this time in a mutter that Sammy heard and wanted to respond to. But she had indeed learned something from Brenda, or more specifically, from losing to her twice. Namely to talk less, and please more.

And so she remained quiet and attached to her rival’s pussy. Studying every twitch and tone offered. What each lap induced and every drag of tongue elicited. An examination of cause and effect that played out, as Alayna seemed to sink deeper and deeper into just allowing her youthful mirror to please her. A sign of which came, when she once more lifted her legs, this time, to cross them behind Sammy’s shoulders. Not only eschewing attempts at escape, but in appearance, keeping the girl buried between her thighs from pulling back. 

It was a sight Robert had never seen or expected to. His wife not only without control of the engagement, but by his guess, nearing complete defeat. Her lips parting to release moans and whimpers, as her hands moved down, in, and then took a hold of the base of Samantha’s high-knot ponytail. 

His wife was going to pull it, and use it to pry the young sex-vixen out from between her already saliva-wet thighs, Robert was sure. But before she did, or even could, Sammy moved. Letting her lips pull from pussy, as she crawled forward. Her left hand traveling down to her panties, and pulling them down cheeks, over thighs, and then free. 

The red-fabric unders falling from ankle and heel down to the black and white carpet floor below, just as Sammy sought to slide in and cross thighs with her lust-drunk rival. Certain that if she could, their engagement would be hers for the taking.

“Are you ready to cum for me?” Sammy asked, as she lifted her right thigh up and over Alayna’s left. 

But then, just as the confident young challenger went to lift her head up, she felt the hands of the woman beneath her tug. Not cruelly or harshly, but just hard enough to tug Sammy forward. A momentum kept, as the brunette beneath her moved hands from hair and pony to back and buns. A single pressing of palms and pulling of behind that sent the youthful Tangler user past cunt, tummy, and breasts, and almost over the arm of the couch on which Alayna’s head rested. 

A head, which as Sammy came to a stop, rested face-up directly between her pantiless thighs, “NoOo.” The younger brunette exclaimed in a suddenly terrified whisper. One that came just loud enough for Robert to hear, as his wife’s arms wrapped and locked down around her rival’s parallel thighs and bicep-pinning shins. 

A move that in a catfight would have been a perfect ambush for the woman who was kneeling, but in a battle such as they waged, it was equally so for the woman trapped beneath. A sexually experienced woman who wasted no time before she leaned up, in, and then devoured the pussy that hovered above. A reversal of fortunes that let Alayna taste the sweet, youth-seasoned juices of the girl who had come to claim her husband. 

Its flavor and volume bringing a smile to Alayna lips, just as Sammy’s parted, both above and below. The former to let loose a wild, passionate moan, and the lower, as a tongue split them in twain and with purpose. 

Seeking core, clit, and climax, if such could be ripped from its confines. 

That goal of first and before, being the delicate, half-illusory difference between the game the two women played and sex — a struggle and an affair. 

Fiction or no, Sammy too remained and endured, just as Alayna had some minutes before. The pleasure inflicted upon her too great to ignore or block out, though she tried desperately to do both. Her every thought spent on quelling the growing orgasm within, even as, to all present, including Robert, she seemed stunned and helpless.

Incredible, the sight was, seeing a girl almost young enough to be his daughter sit on his wife’s face. A wife whose hands would clench and seize around Sammy’s thighs if she gave even the slightest sign that she might try to escape. 

Signs that did not need to be grand, for Alayna’s digits and palms would tense and squeeze if the muscles beneath them even twitched, let alone prepared themselves for a stand.

Focused though she as an aggressor was, and compliant as her prey may have been at that moment, still did it begin. A slow, silent, tilting that though imperceivable to she who tongued and the girl above her who let out one, lustful cry after another, Robert saw. 

And in that seeing, found himself compelled as if by gravity to scoot to the edge of his seat, and then to almost leave his chair. The warning on his lips, and telling on his tongue, until he remembered his instructions. To remain quiet until the battle was over. 

To stay silent, until one of them had cum. 

And so he stayed his speech. Stopped his signal. And instead, just watched as passion, lust, and tightly clenched and wet inner thighs blinded his wife and her rival to the consequence that rushed towards them. He doing not else, but to extend his right foot, hook the toes of his dress show under the metal frame of the glass coffee table in front of the couch, and then to pull it back and away. It sliding silently atop the soft, carpeted floor and safely out of the way, just as the inevitable collapse began.

Sammy’s eyes going wide as she tried to reach out and grab the arm of the couch. But as she sought to adjust, Alayna fought her, thinking she sought freedom and not brace. A contrary meeting of intentions and grips that led Sammy to fall from and then off of the couch. Not alone, but with Alayna, her grip causing her to be pulled off in the same.

The older brunette landing not cleanly and well-placed between her rival’s thighs, but awkwardly and atop of them. A positioning of little use which led both she and Sammy to surge up and into each other. Their lust-driven persons meeting lip to lip, tongue to tongue, and surrounded by the sound of deep, resonant inhales which ebbed as their re-engaged kiss began. 

Each sharing the taste and scent of one anothers sex, as the juices they had drawn from the same began to seal their mouths together. Alayna moving back in a careful crawl, just as Sammy chased after in a slow rise from a seated position to a kneel. The hands of the pair not then moving to each others hair or cheeks, but instead to each others backs and to the clasps of their bras.

Clasps they undid, as the bras they once held tight fell loose between the kneeling pair, and then after a shaking, a shifting, and then an angling of arms, to the carpet below. The breasts of both the older and the younger competitor coming free to reveal rigid nipples at the center of contrary-hued areola. Colors which met and mixed, as the tumescent tips of their owners fought to do the same.

The sensation of their finally nude bodies moving closer and then pressing together causing a white-cold shiver to run up their spines and a tsunami of carnal cerebration to swell in their minds. 

An excitement and need for more that seemed fleeting and frail to the sudden charge unleashed within them as the two women, one younger and one more mature, drove their hips forward. An equal and opposite force that with a heavy bounce, made both pull back from their sticky-lipped kiss and moan out like wolves howling at the night sky. 

At that moment, Robert could have screamed out with joy, terror, or in the throes of some poison, and he would not have drawn his wife’s attention. He could see it as he watched her. In the reflection from her passion-wet eyes. How her expression spoke of pruriency and compulsion — grievance and requital. 

A countenance shared by Sammy, who demanded and received that same contact again and again. The Tangler-bound pair, while on their knees, bending down back, and then rushing forward. The impact that resulted spreading the forward-facing tip of their clitoral hoods, just far enough for their clits, for a blissful split-second to converge somewhere in the wetness, the heat, and the dark of their put-at-odds pussies.

Pussies which met again and again. At first forcefully, after dramatic withdrawals of lower halves and then a sudden lifting of hips. The lips on the faces of the two brunettes curling into snarls and smirks. That is until those expressions gave way to the fire-dipped whimpers and aphrodisiac moans that tore through them once and then again. Sounds which erupted through essence-smeared fissures, just as the pace of the two quicked.

Mound meeting mound at their lowest point, more and more quickly. The hard, clapping sound of their continuing percussion becoming softer and more muffled — quicker and more delicate. But regardless of fleshy announcement and speed, each made Alayna and Sammy quiver with pleasure and shake with sensation. 

Signs of effect they each tried to hide behind hardening glares, as they reached opposing hands to the backs of each others necks to grip hard and then speak.

“Do you know … how many women … Robert has watched me break?” Alayna asked amid impact-caused breathlessness, though she knew that she’d never get a guess.

“I’d rather hear … about how many women … you’ve watched fuck him.” Sammy replied in the same interrupted cadence, as on the carpeted floor, just past the moved coffee table, wife and challenger tribbed on their knees. 

“You’d be the first.” Was it a lie, her claim of being unbested? A brag? A boast, as untrue as the effort Alayna put into acting unphased by her rival’s clit meeting her own? Only she and Robert knew. 

“I WILL be the first.” Like lightning the younger brunette came back, though not a single time had she looked into the watching husband’s eyes. A dichotomy of desire that did little to still Robert’s pounding heart, or slack-gripping right hand. He spending little time on deducing what Sammy wanted with him or why. And though the girl who had become their guest for the night’s desires were cloaked and clouded, for Alayna, his beautiful wife, they suddenly became clear. 

As at the very second Sammy’s guarantee of victory and claiming was loosed from lip, did Alayna fit, curvy body drop from a high kneel to a low one. Her mouth opening and tongue curling not to respond with some biting retort, but instead to release a treacherous moan that betrayed, at least to her sexual adversary, a weakness. In fact, a fantasy. 

And so the suddenly enlightened loser of not one, but two previous sexfights to another woman leaned in and pushed. Her palms shoving Alayna at the shoulders, causing her to fall back, to the left, and down to her back on the floor. A placement which put her full frame just past and next to the end of the coffee table, and in perfect position for Sammy to try to climb atop her. 

But as the younger of the two moved, the older began to try to escape by crawling backwards and away from the former. She moving on her palms, as the hungry, driven, and now advantaged young Sammy chased after her. A scene of predator and prey that played out, as Robert reached out with his left hand and once more moved the coffee table. This time, not towards himself, but to the left and entirely out of the way. 

A decision he made just in time, it would seem, for just as the space was cleared, and he sat back, did Alayna’s shoulders and upper back crash against the lower front of his soft, cushioned arm chair. His legs spreading wide, just as Sammy made sure his wife’s did the same. The youthful vixen, in her ravenous pursuit, crawling atop the seated woman’s left leg only to thereafter scoot down it. Not in part, but until the torrid, half-torrential pussies of the two women came together once again. Not in a quick, hurried seal but in a slow, message-sending drag that came to its culmination as Sammy and Alayna found themselves face to face once more, one pinning and the other pinned to the floor and the chair in which Robert sat. The soft, shimmering brown hair on the trapped woman’s head splayed atop in part, and beneath in another, the crotch of his black dress pants.

“You’ll never fuck my husband.” Despite her placement and predicament — reaction to words spoken and the look in her eyes, Alayna’s words and tone were defiant. Even as she looked up at Samantha, who closed in for a kiss and a whisper. 

“Shhh….” The straddling brunette instructed softly, as her lips puckered and then pressed in light, tantalizing pecks. 

“I’ll fight you. I’ll make you cum….” Alayna continued with a voice that hovered somewhere between rebuttal and plea. The older beauty’s hands moving to the cheeks of Sammy’s toned ass, just as the same began flexing them and in the process, driving her sex forward and down into the woman’s she sought to drive to orgasm.

“He’ll make me cum.” The words came from Sammy’s lips as a coo. A delicate, hushed offering of reassurance that made Alayna quiver with an excitement she knew she shouldn’t show. It being a plaintive revelation, though no more than the heightened pleasure she received from each of Sammy’s sudden, breath-stealing, sojourns forward. Each such drive being inflicted, rather than endured by the 19-year-old, whose face and eyes were written with confidence and forged with a new and deliberate determination. 

An onslaught to which Alayna could offer, amongst her moans of pleasure, no more than a long-dragging, “nooooo….”. A refusal which reeked of denial and fluttered hopelessly in the warmth between wife and challenger, until it disappeared into another open-mouthed kiss that made Alayna swoon. 

He should move out of the chair and across the room, Robert thought to himself, as his mind raced, but how could he? After all, his legs were resting on either side of the two women who struggled against one another to claim him. 

An idea and difficulty he had only barely begun to fathom when he felt Sammy’s hands move to his black fabric-covered shins and slide slowly upward. 

“You bitch…. He’s mine….” Alayna muttered weakly into Sammy’s still parted lips. 

“Then stop me….” No louder and no stronger did the straddling Tangler user give ultimatum and chance. All as her hands moved over knees, up thighs, and then to the zipper that laid behind the back of Alayna’s cushion-resting head.

A series of metal teeth that came undone and down with a slow, tantalizing, and sizzling hiss. One that had only barely faded into memory when Robert’s swollen, throbbing, and adamantine cock came free. 

“Honey…?” The sitting voyeur asked in a plea and on instinct — breaking the one rule he was given. Not knowing what to do, or how to react, to the hands of his wife’s opponent moving so very close to taking their agreed-upon prize into her hands.   

But to the query and prayer came nothing other than the sound of his wife’s utter bliss. Her eyes having closed. Calves having wrapped. And tongue and lips having retracted. As forehead to forehead and clit to clit Sammy fucked her. Calmly. Confidently. And in one, masterful, brutalizing thrust after another.

“I’ll fuck him for you.” Sammy whispered cruelly, though she knew the thought was shattering Alayna’s defenses. 

“I’ll fuck him in front of you.” With every word of promise and oath, the older brunette, who found herself trapped against chair and lost in fantasy, shuddered and moaned. 

Harder and louder with every passing moment.

Bereft of strength or reprisal — response or resistance. 

“And when he and I cum together, I’ll let you taste us.” Venom-drenched and unaffected, the hushed threats came like water through a bursting dam. A gushing that Alayna, at the very end of Sammy’s last sentence, mirrored, as an orgasm unlike any she had ever had ripped through and washed over her. 

She, as it came, wrapping her arms around her rival. Who for the first time, refused a kiss. Even as Alayna sought for it desperately. Her lips and tongue seeking, only to find Sammy’s right hand return from its near grip of Robert’s still untouched rod, and grip her by the lower cheeks and chin with intentional malice. 

A grip of dominance that came, just as Alayna continued to do the same. Her eyes and Samantha’s remaining wide open and locked together in a one-sided and communicative gaze. A look of ascendancy that spoke entirely of victory and defeat — submission and control. The hips of both competitors never stopping, but instead continuing to fire like pistons together, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, the movement slowed. The orgasm of one having passed, as the victory of the other was secured. 

“Wow….” Robert offered as still he struggled to keep his hands from beginning what he had needed for what seemed like ages at that point.

 “Now bitch….” Samantha growled as she lifted herself up and off of  Alayna. The hand that once clenched at the latter’s bottom jaw, moving to the hair above and after taking a hard, merciless grasp, drug the still sitting brunette forward and away from the chair in which her husband sat. 

The body of the discarded wife coming to a crashing and unceremonious stop a few feet before her husband. A husband who Sammy moved to quickly, though instead of turning in to face him, she turned herself away, so that she could look out. Not at the room or the distance, but right into Alayna’s dimmed and defeated eyes, just as her victorious rival positioned herself above Robert’s cock. 

“Watch me, Alayna.” Sammy instructed as she began to lower herself down. The young brunette’s voice trembling with excitement with every syllable spent. 

“Watch as he enters me….” Demand though Sammy did, Alayna was free to look away — free to hide her face in shame, though she didn’t. No, for instead, she did as told. Her tear-filled eyes lifting and locking onto the young woman who had made her cum, just as the tip of Robert’s dick disappeared inside of her. An entrance which pushed a wild cry of pleasure out of her tormentor’s lips. 

“Oooohhh god.” Sammy exclaimed, as her eyes closed and hands moved down to the arms of the chair on either side of her prize. A prize who groaned loudly, just before he placed the knuckles of his right fist between his biting teeth. The glory of Sammy’s warm, wet pussy sliding down his long-denied rod.

“I hate you”, Alayna suddenly cried out, as she fought through her own post-orgasm fatigue and to her knees. The words flung being not true or heart-felt, but instead part of it. 

The fantasy. 

The agreement. 

The fetish both women shared.

False though those words were, they seemed to splash across Samantha’s cheeks like a bucket of cold water that woke her from her rapture. 

“Hate me.” The victress responded. “Hate me while I fuck your husband, you weak little bitch.” Snarl though Sammy did, her eyes in contrast glinted and glimmered with appreciation and need — desire and desperation. 

The truth behind every word spoken and cruelty then exacted was crystal and clarion to they two, though it was an utter mystery to the oblivious Robert. 

And though all of it seemed real to him — the animosity and enmity shown, still did Robert buck his hips. Driving his still throbbing phallus into his wife’s tormentor. His mind so alight with lust and frenzy that he could not feel guilt for the words of pain his spouse was speaking or those that the girl who sat atop him threw back. No, as instead, he was lost in it. 

The moment. 

The scenario. 

And his stoked and long-restrained pining for release. 

So much so, that rather than rebut her affections and move to console his seemingly distraught wife, Robert’s right hand moved out, in, and then came down on his young conqueror’s hip. 

It was natural and expected, given what else he was sharing with her at that moment. But at the very first meeting of his fingers and her flesh, Sammy struck at him with a quick, stinging slap of the same. 

“Don’t touch me.” The rebuffing higher teen growled forcefully. 

“Huh? Wha…?” Robert asked, or at least tried to amongst his moans, with wide eyes aimed forward and at the back of the girl who did not slow her riding but instead increased its pace.

“This isn’t about you.” Samantha answered keenly. She knowing full well what Robert must have thought would happen after the battle she had just waged with his wife. And in contrast to that notion, what she wanted. 

What she had always wanted. 

From the moment she had first set herself to sunbathing in the yard near Brenda’s house, to the second she chose Alayna on Tangler. A long plan of action and hoped-for reaction the beautiful pre-twenties brunette summed up in 3 little words. Words she spoke as both she and Robert built towards orgasm. 

“It’s … about … her.” Eleven letters, which put together as they had been, sounded as beautiful and perfect to Alayna’s ears as they could ever possibly be. They forming a wide and soul-deep smile on her face, just as Sammy lifted her left hand and motioned with a come hither finger for the woman she had driven to orgasm to come. 

To approach. 

And so she did. The bested wife crawling on her hands and knees over to Sammy and her husband as they fucked. She lifting up, just high enough, and just in time to watch both her Tangler-found foe and her husband cum together in unison from mere inches away. 

The sounds of their screams of delight and sight of their shudders of pleasure coming loud and long, until finally Samantha lifted herself up and off of Robert’s quickly deflating cock. She who had drained it then grabbing Alayna by the hair once more, and dragging her up and into her cum-stained cunt. The victress then forcing — or perhaps allowing her rival to taste the sweet mixture of the essence of the man she married and the challenger who finally made her quake.

The End

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