"Come to bed," you say, and I am more than ready to comply. I've been hot for you-- for your words on a screen-- for months now. We've cum together and apart with each other's words for company. You've told me how you've fantasized about me, and I, about you, but it's all been just words, just imagination until now. You open the door, and with your hand on my ass, propel me forward.
As my eyes adjust to the light, I look at you. You smile, and as I follow your gaze I see we're not alone. She's here-- your wife, sleeping. I watch her chest rise and fall beneath the sheet and I look back at you, stepping back towards the door.
You catch my wrist and you say, "Please. It's alright. We all want this." I wonder if the straight girl in the bed wants the same thing I do-- I doubt it-- but then I see your face in the shadow, and the expression brings a flush to my cheeks and heat between my legs. Your free hand reaches out and pulls the sheet down past her shoulders, to the top of her breast. I follow the sheet's progress with my eyes, willing it down, waiting to see those breasts you've praised so many times. You pull me closer to you and to the bed, and bring our hands together to the sheet and I understand now. I'm the one to pull it back. I'm to make this choice, but she's already made hers. We are to share you, but I wonder does she know how much I want to share her, with you?