Second Ecstasy: R's Return

EROTICA - 13 MIN READ

R arrived right on time, six-pack in hand, the same easy confidence in his step as the first visit. The second night already felt looser, more familiar — no awkward edges, just heat waiting to build. They settled into the lounge, beers cracked open, low lights casting warm shadows. Conversation started light — work gripes, weekend plans — then drifted back to that first night on the cross.

“Did you enjoy it?” Peter asked, his hand resting on Amanda’s thigh, thumb tracing slow circles over the soft cotton of her skirt.

R leaned back, grinning. “Every damn second. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop.”

The talk turned to fantasies almost without effort. What they might try next, how it felt to be touched and tasted by both of them at once. R sat on one side of Amanda, Peter on the other. Hands found her legs — Peter’s firm and knowing, R’s lighter, exploratory. Fingers crept higher. Peter leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then lower to the sensitive skin of her neck, feeling her pulse jump under his lips.

“You two are killing me,” she murmured, that devious smile curling.

Clothes came off in a slow, shared undressing. Peter and R worked together, peeling her blouse away, unhooking her bra so her heavy breasts spilled free, nipples already peaked. Peter claimed her mouth then — long, deep, tongues sliding slow and wet — while R knelt between her spread thighs. The moment his mouth found her, Amanda’s breath hitched sharply against Peter’s lips. R’s tongue parted her full, swollen lips, lapping broad and hungry from entrance to clit. Wet sounds rose soft and filthy; Peter could feel every spike of her pleasure in the way she moaned into his kiss, her body arching toward both men at once.

R pulled back just long enough to catch his breath, lips shining with her arousal. “Peter… can I taste you too?”

Peter nodded, heart slamming. R tugged his underwear down; Peter’s cock sprang free — thick, veined, already leaking at the tip. R’s mouth closed over him in one smooth motion: tongue teasing the underside, swirling the head, then taking him deeper. The wet heat was exquisite. Amanda and Peter kept kissing through it all — her hand fisted in his hair, his tongue fucking hers — while R switched between them. Back to her dripping pussy, sucking her clit hard, then to Peter’s balls, drawing one into his mouth while his fingers circled her swollen nub. The build was relentless: her moans vibrating into Peter’s mouth, R’s tongue everywhere, skin heating to fever.
R broke away again, voice rough. “I want to lick you both… while you fuck.”

They moved like they’d planned it. Amanda dropped to all fours on the thick rug, arse up, pussy exposed and glistening. Peter knelt behind her, hands gripping her hips. R positioned himself between her knees, eyes dark with hunger. He took Peter’s cock first — sucking the head slow, tongue swirling, coating it with saliva and the lingering taste of Amanda’s cream — then guided it to her entrance, rubbing the slick tip against her clit before pressing it inside.

Peter sank deep with a low groan, filling her completely, his thick shaft stretching her walls, rubbing that perfect spot with every inch. R’s tongue joined immediately — lapping from her throbbing clit up to where they were joined, then down to Peter’s tightening sac, sucking his balls gently as Peter began to thrust. Slow at first, long deliberate strokes that drew whimpers from Amanda. Peter reached back, finding R’s hard cock — stroking it in perfect time with his own rhythm.

The pace quickened: harder, deeper, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with the obscene squelch of Amanda’s soaked pussy and R’s greedy slurps. She came first — hard. Her walls clamped down like a fist, a hot gush flooding over Peter’s cock and straight onto R’s upturned face. She cried out, body shaking, but Peter kept pounding through it, chasing her second peak.

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She shattered again almost immediately, pussy spasming so violently it forced him out mid-thrust. R was there in an instant — mouth on Peter’s cockhead, sucking Amanda’s flavour off him with filthy enthusiasm, tongue swirling the mix of her cream and Peter’s precum. Peter’s hand never stopped on R’s shaft, stroking firm and fast. R groaned around the head of Peter’s cock, then tensed — his cock pulsing hard in Peter’s grip, hot ropes of cum spilling thick and warm over Peter’s fingers. The erotic throb of R’s release, the feel of it coating his hand, pushed Peter right to the edge.

“I’m close,” he rasped.

R pulled off with a wet pop, guiding Peter’s cock back to Amanda’s dripping entrance. “Cum inside her… so I can clean you both up.”

Peter thrust back in — deep, urgent. A few more powerful strokes and he broke, cock throbbing as he flooded her with thick, hot spurts, coating her walls, filling her completely. Amanda milked him greedily, drawing every drop deeper, the overflow already trickling out. He pulled out slow, that delicious drag, and R dove in — first grabbing Peter’s cock, licking it clean with long, thorough strokes, savouring the mingled taste. Then his mouth sealed over Amanda’s pussy, tongue plunging deep, slurping up Peter’s cum and her own juices in wet, greedy gulps.

They collapsed together — a sweaty, sticky tangle on the floor. Amanda in the middle, skin flushed and glistening, R’s head resting on her thigh, Peter’s arm draped over them both. The air was thick with the scent of sex: cum, sweat, her arousal. Hands moved lazily — Peter tracing the curve of her breast, R’s fingers on Peter’s hip, Amanda’s palm flat against both their chests. Soft laughter broke the quiet, whispered confessions of what felt best, what they wanted next time.

In the afterglow, wrapped in each other’s warmth and the sticky evidence of their shared pleasure, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Messy, real, and perfect. They already knew there would be a third night.