My Boyfriend’s Boyfriends - Lisette Ashton

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They’re all good-looking guys, right? All got hard-ons, gagging for it, waiting. Only the best for you, gorgeous.’ His hands came up over my breasts, pressed, squeezed, stroked through the red silk, started to pinch at my nipples, making them burn. ‘Show them how sexy you are.’

      ‘Have to get dressed –’

      ‘Don’t change a thing. I love you best in next to nothing.’

      He plucked the satin of my negligee, pulled it up over my thigh, over my crotch, ran his finger down the freshly waxed crack. We could both feel the beading of moisture, how damp I was already. He pushed his finger further in, parting the pink lips, ran it up and down again. I leaned back against him and moaned, opening my legs a little further.

      But he stood up and left me there, my long legs uncovered. ‘Make me proud, honey.’

      Since all the dark hints dropped by my so-called friends about getting their hands on my husband, or his hands on them, I had lost two stone. Rediscovered my cheekbones, my body, my posture. Sorted out my wardrobe. I ran my hands inside my warm thighs, taut now and slim, up to my pussy, into the warm crack where Sven had touched me.

      My head was swimming pleasantly from the wine, and I was distracted by the male laughter downstairs. Sven must have sensed it was too noisy, because he put on some dark melodic blues. He was educating his mates, my sophisticated Sven, so much classier than the others. And he knows that music turns me on. I smiled. The wives would be at home now, looking crossly at their watches.

      ‘Hi, boys. Good day?’

      I posed in the doorway, wine sloshing around in my glass. Didn’t really think it through, my entrance, but the look on their faces as I swished my hair back like a lingerie model was a picture. I stepped into my lovely sitting room, all dark-red walls, kilim rugs, low-slung sofas and mirrors everywhere. Sven already had the lighting turned down, some candles placed here and there, and he was over at the piano, picking out the odd note to go with the music.

      ‘Hey, Sara, you look sensational.’ Jon was the first to come out of his trance. ‘Come and sit down here, between me and Rick.’

      I walked slowly over to the fireplace, moving differently in my bare feet, shoulders back, tits bouncing slightly, the nipples growing stiff against the silk, hips swaying. Ollie was slumped on the floor, blue eyes half closed.

      I stared at myself in the huge mirror above the mantelpiece. Their faces were all turned to me, mouths dropping open with lust. My husband was hidden behind the piano. I pressed my flushed cheeks and knocked my wine back like a navvy.

      ‘Hot in here, isn’t it?’ I started to pull the spaghetti straps down my shoulders. ‘Let’s see if the lady of the house can’t help you all relax after a rowdy day at the match.’

      I thought at first this would just be a little striptease, not much to take off really, a simple burlesque to show off my new, slim, bath-fresh bod, then glide away again leaving them gasping for more. So I let the negligee slip down a little further until my big round breasts were uncovered, bouncing upwards, red nipples illuminated by the firelight.

      My heart was pounding harder now as I realised how rapt my audience was. I’d gone past the point of no return. The older guys were trying, and failing, to look nonchalant, but I knew that look in their eyes. Ollie was sitting bolt upright on the floor, wide awake now, hand thrust firmly into his crotch.

      I let the slip fall all the way down to the floor and I stepped over it, naked but for my blood-red studded thong and stockings.

      ‘How far are you going to go, Sara?’ murmured Jon.

      ‘All the way. I dare you,’ added Rick.

      ‘Oh, please,’ whimpered Ollie.

      ‘No talking,’ I shot back. ‘Distracts me.’

      I bent over a little and let my breasts drop heavily forwards. Rick groaned. Jon grinned, stroking his upper lip. He stretched his legs out in front of him. My Sven said nothing. Just reached out and turned up the volume of the smoky jazz a notch.

      I took my breasts in my hands and started to knead them, gently at first, then more firmly, hips swaying automatically as I did so. Pleasure stirred inside me, egging me on. This was going to be my own floorshow. Just having three men and a boy in my living room, rigid with expectation, was enough to excite me. I realised I already knew where this would end.

      ‘Wow, I was right about you all along, Sara,’ said Rick, shifting in his seat. ‘Hot shit. Suzie will kill me.’

      ‘Why? You’ve not done anything wrong.’ I licked my finger and ran it over one nipple, making it go red and hard, and then the other.

      ‘Just for seeing this. For watching you.’

      ‘To hell with that. I’m the wicked one around here.’

      The men licked their lips and sat forwards, eyes fixed on my hands as I caressed my breasts more passionately, pinched the nipples into long dark points, swaying and letting my hair swing down my back, turning myself on.

      ‘Oh, you’re getting hard watching me, aren’t you, boys?’

      Heat curled up from my cunt, warming me through.

      ‘Christ, Sven, you’re a lucky bastard,’ Rick growled, turning to my husband. Sven just smiled enigmatically.

      I curled one arm under my bouncing breasts to keep them raised. With one hand I fondled and squeezed the yielding flesh, and I ran the fingers of the other down over my stomach and suddenly tweaked the diamante-studded thong sideways to show them the strip of my neat pussy. Every time I moved in this thong the little studs lining it rubbed and tickled my tender crevices.

      ‘So, you’re the one with all the talk tonight, Rick. Normally surly and quiet, aren’t you?’

      I stepped across to him, placed one foot on either side of his long legs and tilted myself towards him so that my crotch was up against his face. His hands stroked up the back of my stockings, tickled the skin behind my knees. I pushed my velvety pussy lips aggressively against his face and felt his breath blow across the bare skin. I started to sway my hips again, into him and away, unable to stop myself moving as my own desire started to pulsate and build inside me.

      ‘Lucky bastard,’ muttered Ollie.

      ‘All in good time, boys.’

      Rick grasped my buttocks, dug his fingers into them and pulled my pussy against his mouth. I heard them all groan. Sven’s fingers slipped across the piano keys. I was getting hornier now, so that when Rick’s tongue snaked out and touched my clitoris I let out a load moan and ground myself harder against his mouth.

      Then, with a superhuman effort, I stepped away again. ‘You must learn to take turns, Rickie.’

      I swayed round, pointed at them all in turn, and deliberately stepped over Ollie to choose Jon. I spread my thighs open on either side of his head and pushed my pussy into his face. He opened my wet sex without waiting, opened it up wide, stared greedily at the pink, then it wasn’t his tongue but his teeth that nipped sharply at my clit.

      I jolted with surprise as Jon’s mouth started to work me into a frenzy, grazing along the slippery lining of my pussy, running his tongue along it, warm and wet. Oh God, did he do this to Rose? No wonder she was always so smug. My legs started shaking as I tried to keep control, tangling my fingers in his hair and jamming his face into me.

      ‘Hey, slow down, stud,’ I said with a soft laugh after a few moments. The pleasure was radiating almost painfully from deep inside. I stepped away from Jon’s busy mouth.

      ‘High and mighty all of a sudden. What are you playing at?’ he growled.

      I kept one hand on my tits and the other cupped tight over my puss, trying to quell the quivering excitement there. I forced myself to keep my fingers still, in case I flicked the button way too early. Then I lowered myself to the floor. I spread my arms and legs in a welcoming gesture, and lay back on the blood-red rug.

      ‘Not

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