Forbidden Heat:Between Friends Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Leo's POV

We fucked until the sun came up—slow, lazy rounds in the bed, then rough, urgent ones when the first rays hit the windows. By 8 AM, my back was covered in scratch marks, Cici's thighs were sticky with my cum, and the bedsheets smelled like a mix of sex, vanilla, and Sid's stupid lavender detergent. It was filthy, perfect, and I didn't wanna stop.​

"C'mon," she panted, pushing me off her and swinging her legs over the bed. "Gotta fuel up—ovulation hits in two days, and we can't waste energy." She grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hallway naked, past Sid's trophy shelf (UCLA debate team, 2018—total dork shit) and into the kitchen.​

LA's morning sun streamed through the windows, lighting up the counter where Sid kept his fancy coffee maker—one of those $500 machines he bragged about nonstop. Cici leaned against it, grinning, her tits out, her pussy still glistening. "Make me coffee," she purred, "and I'll give you a reward."​

I laughed, grabbing the coffee grounds. "What kind of reward?"​

She dropped to her knees in front of me, her hands wrapping around my dick—still semi-hard from the night before. "The kind that makes you forget how to spell 'guilt,'" she whispered, and took me in her mouth.​

Her lips were warm, wet, and greedy, and I groaned, spilling coffee grounds on the counter. The machine gurgled, the sun heated my back, and all I could feel was her tongue flicking the head of my dick, her hand pumping the base. "Fuck, Cici—" I hissed, grabbing her hair. "You're gonna make me cum in your mouth."​

"Good," she mumbled around me, vibrations making my knees weak. "Gonna swallow every drop. Gotta keep my system primed for your baby."​

She didn't lie. When I came, she took it all—swallowing slowly, her eyes locked on mine, a little smirk playing on her lips. She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and grabbed a mug from the cabinet—Sid's favorite, with a Bruins logo chipped on the handle. "Coffee's ready, cowboy," she said, handing it to me. "Drink up. We got a lot of work to do."​

We ate breakfast at the kitchen table—burritos from the taco truck down the street, the one with the green salsa that's so hot it makes your nose run. Cici ate naked, her legs draped over mine, and every time she leaned forward to grab a napkin, her tits brushed the table. A neighbor's dog barked outside, and she laughed. "Relax—Marge next door's a total hippie. She's probably smoking a joint and doesn't care if we're naked."​

She wasn't wrong. Marge was the kind of lady who wore tie-dye and gave out homemade kombucha at block parties. Still, the thought of someone seeing us—Sid's wife, naked with his best friend—made my dick twitch.​

After breakfast, we fucked on the dining table. She bent over it, her ass in the air, and I grabbed Sid's old Bruins jersey off the chair and tied it around her waist—just enough to cover her lower back, not enough to hide anything. "Gonna fuck you in his jersey," I growled, slamming into her. "Gonna make this table remember who you belong to."​

She screamed, her hands gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white. "Yes—claim me, Leo! Make me yours! Make that baby!" The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed through the house, mixing with the distant hum of a lawnmower. I could see Sid's graduation photo on the wall, his face grinning like an idiot, and I thrust harder. "Look at him," I whispered in her ear. "He's never gonna make you feel this good. Never gonna knock you up like I will."​

She came, her body shaking, her pussy squeezing me so tight I thought I'd pass out. I followed right after, shooting a thick load inside her, so deep I could feel it pulse against her womb. We collapsed onto the floor, laughing and panting, the jersey still tied around her waist.​

By noon, we'd fucked in the backyard—on the patio chair where Sid grills burgers, under the oak tree he planted when they moved in—and in the guest room, where I pinned her against Sid's old bookshelf (filled with UCLA textbooks, of course). Everywhere we went, we left little marks: a hickey on her collarbone, cum stains on his favorite blanket, a torn pillow from when she bit it to muffle her moans.

We were going at it on the sofa again. It was mid-afternoon. We had ordered food earlier and—careless from days of isolation—we must have left the front door unlocked.

I was pounding Cici in missionary, her legs wrapped around my neck, both of us groaning loudly. The slapping of skin was deafening.

"Oh god! Yes! Harder!" Cici screamed.

We were so lost in the moment that we didn't hear the chime.

"Oh my god! What are you two doing?!"

A female voice screamed from the entrance.

My blood ran cold. I froze mid-thrust. Cici gasped, covering her mouth.

We turned to look. Standing there, a bag of groceries in her hand, was Tanya.

Tanya stared at us, eyes wide. Her gaze traveled from Cici's spread legs to my cock, which was still buried deep inside her, glistening with fluids.

"Tanya! It's not what it looks like!" I stammered, pulling out. Schlop. My dick flopped out, dripping cum and juices onto the floor.

Tanya didn't look away. In fact, she dropped her grocery bag. Apples rolled across the floor.

"Sid is away..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "And you're just... fucking his wife?"

Silence stretched between us. I waited for her to run. I waited for her to scream.

She didn't.

She took a step closer. Her eyes locked on my semi-hard shaft.

"JI never fucks me like that," she murmured, almost to herself. "He's always too tired... too drunk..."

She looked at Cici, then back at me. A flush crept up her neck.

"Since you're already helping one lonely wife," she purred, reaching for the zipper of her dress. "Do you think you have enough for two?"

My jaw dropped. Cici, recovering from her shock, let out a low laugh.

"Well," Cici smirked, leaning back and spreading her legs again. "Don't be rude, Leo. We have a guest."

Tanya pulled her dress over her head. She wasn't as slim as Cici; she was thick, soft, and voluptuous. Her massive, heavy breasts swung free as she tossed her bra aside. Her nipples were inverted, shy little craters waiting to be teased out.

She dropped to her knees next to the sofa and crawled toward me.

"Please..." Tanya begged, grabbing my cock with her meaty, warm hand. "I need to feel something big inside me."

I pulled Tanya up onto the sofa. She felt softer, more yielding than Cici. I buried my face in her massive cleavage, motor-boating those soft pillows while my hand slid down to her pussy.

She was soaking wet. Her lips were thicker, darker, and visibly swollen with need.

"Put it in," she moaned.

I drove into her.

Shluck.

It was a different sensation entirely. Cici was a tight, vice-like grip. Tanya was a warm, enveloping ocean.

"Oh god! It fits! It finally fits!" Tanya cried out, wrapping her thick legs around my waist.

For the next hour, I was in heaven. I had two wives at my disposal.

While I pounded into Tanya, Cici positioned herself near our heads. While I kissed Tanya, Cici licked my balls. While I thrust into Tanya's wet depths, Cici massaged my prostate from the outside.

It was sensory overload.

"Faster! Break me!" Tanya screamed, her eyes rolling back.

I picked up the pace, hammering into her. Tanya's body started to convulse. She wasn't just coming; she was losing control.

"I'm gonna... I can't hold it!"

Suddenly, her hips bucked violently. A stream of clear fluid sprayed out from her urethra, hitting me in the stomach and splashing onto Cici's face. She was a squirter.

"Yes! Spray for him!" Cici cheered, wiping the fluid from her cheek and licking her fingers. "Mark him, Tanya!"

Tanya collapsed, shaking, completely spent.

"I'm close too," I groaned.

"Do it," Tanya whispered. "Fill me up. I want what she has."

I drove deep into Tanya's womb, unloading a massive stream of seed into her. She clamped down, groaning in ecstasy as I bred my second wife of the week.

Tanya left around sunset. She walked funny, her dress disheveled, but she had a satisfied, almost drunken smirk on her face.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the atmosphere changed instantly.

Cici turned to me. Her eyes were dark, swirling with something that looked like jealousy, but felt hotter.

"So," she said, her voice dropping an octave. "You liked her soft body, didn't you? You liked fucking that loose, squirty pussy?"

"She was... different," I said carefully, sensing a trap. "Fun for a change."

"Fun?" Cici stalked towards me, naked and covered in dried fluids. "Did she drink your piss? Did she lick your ass? Did she let you treat her like a human toilet?"

She pushed me onto the bed and straddled me. Her hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in.

"I need to remind you who your real slut is, Leo. I need to remind you whose hole belongs to you."

She grabbed my cock. It was exhausted, soft from the double duty, but under her touch, it began to stir again.

"I'm thirsty," she whispered, positioning her face directly over my crotch. "And this time, I'm not using a cup. I want it straight from the tap."

She opened her mouth wide. "Pee in my mouth, Leo. Show me that I'm just your urinal. Show me that Tanya is just a snack, but I'm your garbage can."

I couldn't believe it. The sheer degradation turned me on instantly. I released a stream, and she swallowed every drop, cleaning me, claiming me.

When she was done, she looked up, chin dripping, eyes wild. "See? I'm the only wife you need."