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By *ikeEx OP Man 16 weeks ago
Near Alfreton, Derbyshire |
The money arrived without ceremony, but it changed everything.
Mike felt lighter almost immediately. Candy noticed it before he did. The way his shoulders eased. The way time seemed to slow around them. When the land from his father’s estate sold and the figures settled into reality, Candy didn’t rush to celebrate. She planned.
The weekend away was her idea. Secluded. Tasteful. Expensive enough to feel intentional. She wanted indulgence, not chaos. She wanted control wr4pped in pleasure.
That was why Fiona was invited.
Fiona arrived with confidence sharpened by experience. She knew how to read a room and how to place herself inside it. Candy saw the glances, the way Fiona measured the space, the clothes, the quiet assurance money brings. Candy welcomed her warmly and remembered everything.
The first evening unfolded slowly. Conversation stretched. Laughter softened edges. Touch found excuses to linger. Desire settled in like heat beneath the skin. Fiona leaned into attention easily. Mike responded without hesitation. Candy guided the pace with a gentle hand and a careful eye.
The air in the main room grew thick with unspoken intent as twilight bled across the polished floors. Candy watched Fiona’s hand rest on Mike’s forearm, a gesture too casual to be accidental. Mike’s gaze met Candy’s over Fiona’s head, a silent question and a shared permission passing between them. Candy gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, a conductor’s cue for the next movement.
She rose first, her silk robe whispering against her skin. “The bedrooms are cooler,” she said, her voice a low melody. She didn’t look back, trusting them to follow.
The master suite was a study in deliberate comfort. The king-sized bed was a landscape of white linen, waiting. Candy stood by the window, the last of the day’s light catching the curve of her hip. She turned as they entered, her eyes moving from Mike’s familiar form to Fiona’s expectant one. There was no awkwardness, only a shared, current of anticipation.
Mike moved to Candy first, his hands framing her face as he kissed her, a deep, familiar claiming that was also a greeting. Fiona watched, her breathing shallow, before stepping closer. Her fingers brushed against Candy’s shoulder, a tentative touch that grew bolder, tracing the line of her collarbone. Candy leaned into the contact, turning her head to capture Fiona’s lips. The kiss was different, softer, an exploration of new territory.
Mike’s hands were busy, untying the sash of Candy’s robe, letting it fall open. He palmed the warm weight of her breast, his thumb circling her nipple until it pebbled. Fiona’s hand joined his, her touch more delicate, her nails scr4ping lightly against the sensitive skin. Candy sighed, a sound of pure satisfaction, her head falling back against Mike’s shoulder.
Clothes became an afterthought, shed without ceremony and forgotten on the floor. The three of them stood for a moment, naked and bathed in the soft lamplight, a tableau of intertwined limbs and shared purpose. Fiona’s body was lean and athletic, a contrast to Candy’s softer curves. Mike’s erection was a heavy, insistent presence against Candy’s back.
Candy guided them to the bed, arranging them with an artist’s eye. She lay on her side, Fiona mirroring her, their bodies flush. Mike knelt behind them, his hands stroking the length of their spines, the dip of their waists, the swell of their asses. He leaned forward, his mouth finding the back of Candy’s neck, then Fiona’s, his breath hot against their skin.
His fingers dipped lower, parting slick folds, finding the hard nubs of their clits. He circled them slowly, maddeningly, until both women were arching against his hand, soft cries escaping their lips. Candy reached back, her hand wr4pping around his shaft, stroking him in time with the movements of his fingers. Fiona turned her head, her mouth finding Candy’s breast, her tongue swirling around the nipple before she took it into her mouth, sucking gently.
The sensations were a dizzying cascade. The dual stimulation of Mike’s fingers and Fiona’s mouth, the taste of Fiona’s skin, the weight of Mike’s cock in her hand. Candy felt herself teetering on the edge, her body tightening with the promise of release. Mike seemed to sense it, his movements becoming more deliberate, more insistent. He pushed one finger, then two, inside her, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. At the same time, he did the same to Fiona, his thumb pressing against her clit.
The orgasm that tore through Candy was sharp and blinding. She cried out, her body convulsing, her hand tightening on Mike’s cock. Fiona followed moments later, her cries muffled against Candy’s breast. Mike didn’t stop, his fingers continuing their relentless assault, drawing out their pleasure until they were both limp and panting.
He shifted then, moving to kneel between their legs. His gaze was dark, his chest heaving. He looked from Candy to Fiona, a silent question in his eyes. Candy answered by reaching for Fiona, pulling her into a deep, languid kiss. When she pulled back, she looked at Mike. “She’s ready,” she said, her voice husky.
Mike positioned himself at Fiona’s entrance, his cock nudging against her wetness. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, his eyes locked on Candy’s. Candy watched, her own body clenching in response as she saw Fiona’s face contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain. When Mike was fully seated, he paused, giving Fiona time to adjust. Then he began to move, his strokes slow and deep at first, then faster, harder.
Candy moved closer, her hand finding Fiona’s clit, her fingers circling it in time with Mike’s thrusts. Fiona’s hands fisted in the sheets, her body arching to meet Mike’s. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, their ragged breaths, their soft cries, filled the room. It was a raw, primal symphony, and Candy was its conductor.
She felt Mike’s rhythm falter, his thrusts becoming erratic. She knew he was close. “Come for her,” she whispered, her voice a command. “Come inside her.”
With a guttural groan, Mike obeyed. His body stiffened, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into Fiona. The sight of it, the knowledge of it, sent another wave of pleasure through Candy. She continued to stroke Fiona’s clit, pushing her over the edge once more.
When it was over, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs, their bodies slick with sweat and other fluids. Mike’s cum was a warm, wet presence between Fiona’s thighs, a tangible proof of their shared intimacy. Candy reached down, her fingers dipping into the mess, then brought them to her lips, tasting the salty, musky flavor. She looked at Mike, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face. The weekend was just beginning.
The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the scent of sex and satisfaction. It was Candy who broke it, her movements fluid and purposeful. She rose from the bed, her body a pale silhouette in the dim light, and walked to the en-suite bathroom. The sound of running water was a brief interlude before she returned, a warm, damp cloth in her hands.
She knelt on the bed, her touch gentle as she cleaned Fiona, the motion both intimate and methodical. Fiona watched her, her eyes half-lidded, a look of dazed contentment on her face. Mike propped himself up on an elbow, his gaze fixed on the two women, a slow smile playing on his lips. He reached out, his hand tracing the curve of Candy’s hip.
“Your turn,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.
Candy turned to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Patience,” she chided softly, but there was no real reprimand in her tone. She finished with Fiona, then leaned over, her lips brushing against Fiona’s ear. “Watch,” she whispered.
She straddled Mike, her knees on either side of his hips. His cock, already stirring to life again, nudged against her wet folds. She sank down on him slowly, taking him in inch by inch, her head thrown back, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She began to move, her hips rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm.
Fiona watched, her eyes wide, her hand drifting down to her own clit, her fingers mimicking Candy’s movements. The sight of the two women, their bodies moving in tandem, was a potent aphrodisiac. Mike’s hands gripped Candy’s hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her, urging her on.
Candy leaned forward, her breasts brushing against Mike’s chest. “Fiona,” she said, her voice a breathy command. “Come here.”
Fiona scrambled to obey, positioning herself so she was kneeling over Mike’s face, her back to Candy. Mike didn’t hesitate, his tongue delving into her wetness, his hands cupping her ass, pulling her closer. Candy watched for a moment, her own movements faltering as a wave of pleasure washed over her. Then she leaned forward, her mouth finding Fiona’s, her tongue delving deep, tasting Mike on her lips.
The three of them moved together, a tangled mass of limbs and shared pleasure. The sounds of their bodies, their ragged breaths, their soft cries, filled the room. It was a raw, primal symphony, and they were all playing their parts to perfection.
Mike’s thrusts became more erratic, his hips jerking upwards, his body tensing. Candy could feel him getting close, his cock swelling inside her. She pulled away from Fiona, her eyes locking with Mike’s. “Not yet,” she said, her voice a low growl. “I want you to come on us.”
She lifted herself off him, her hand wr4pping around his slick, hard shaft. Fiona moved to join her, her hand covering Candy’s. Together, they stroked him, their movements in perfect sync. Mike’s head fell back, his eyes squeezed shut, his body arching off the bed. With a guttural groan, he came, his hot, sticky cum spurting over their hands, their breasts, their stomachs.
The sight of it, the feel of it, was enough to send Candy over the edge. She cried out, her body convulsing, her own release washing over her in a tidal wave of pleasure. Fiona followed moments later, her cries mingling with Candy’s.
When it was over, they collapsed in a heap, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. Candy lay between them, her head on Mike’s chest, Fiona’s arm dr4ped over her waist. She could feel Mike’s heart beating against her ear, a steady, reassuring rhythm. She closed her eyes, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face. The weekend was proceeding exactly as planned.
The first light of morning was a pale, apologetic gray, seeping through the heavy dr4pes. Candy woke first, as she always did. The air was still thick with the scent of their exertions—a musky, intimate perfume that clung to the linen and their skin. Mike’s arm was a heavy weight across her waist, his breathing deep and even. Fiona was curled on her side, facing them, her expression unguarded in sleep, a stark contrast to the calculated confidence she wore when awake.
Candy slipped from the bed, her movements silent and practiced. She padded to the bathroom, turning on the shower with a soft click. The sound was a gentle hiss, a promise of renewal. She stepped under the hot spray, letting the water cascade over her skin, washing away the physical evidence of the night but not the memory. She closed her eyes, her mind replaying the events with the clarity of a film director reviewing a take. Every touch, every gasp, every shared glance had been a data point. Fiona’s eagerness, her lack of hesitation, her subtle attempts to position herself as the central object of Mike’s desire. It was all noted, catalogued, and filed away.
When she returned to the bedroom, wr4pped in a plush towel, Mike was sitting up in bed, his hair a tousled mess. He watched her, his eyes dark with renewed interest. “Morning,” he said, his voice husky with sleep.
“Morning,” she replied, her smile easy and genuine. She dropped the towel and reached for her robe, a deliberate, unhurried motion. “Fiona still asleep?”
Mike glanced at the other woman. “Out cold. I think we wore her out.”
Candy laughed, a low, throaty sound. “I think we wore *all* of us out.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on his thigh. “But the day is young.”
Fiona stirred then, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked, a moment of confusion clouding her features before she remembered where she was and who she was with. A slow, sly smile spread across her face. “Good morning,” she purred, stretching languidly, the sheet pooling around her waist.
The day unfolded in a similar pattern of indulgence. They breakfasted on the terrace, the sun warm on their skin, the conversation light and easy. They swam in the infinity pool, the cool water a delicious shock against their heated skin. Touches became more frequent, more deliberate. A hand on the small of a back. Lips brushing against a shoulder. Fingers tangling in wet hair.
By mid-afternoon, the desire had built again, a slow, simmering heat that demanded release. They didn’t make it back to the bedroom. Candy pushed Mike down onto one of the plush outdoor loungers, her mouth claiming his in a hungry kiss. Fiona watched for a moment, her eyes dark with lust, before joining them, her hands roaming over their bodies.
This time, it was faster, more frantic. The urgency of the night before was replaced by a raw, primal need. Candy straddled Mike’s face, her hands braced against the back of the lounger, her body arching as his tongue delved into her. Fiona knelt between his legs, her mouth engulfing his cock, her head bobbing in a steady rhythm.
The sounds of their pleasure echoed across the terrace, mingling with the chirping of birds and the distant hum of a lawnmower. It was a decadent, hedonistic symphony, and Candy was its conductor. She could feel Mike’s tongue, his fingers, his breath against her skin. She could hear Fiona’s soft moans, the wet, sucking sounds of her mouth on Mike’s cock. It was a sensory overload, a dizzying, intoxicating rush.
She came first, her body convulsing, her cries sharp and clear. Mike followed moments later, his hips jerking, his cum spurting into Fiona’s waiting mouth. Fiona swallowed, her throat working, then looked up at Candy, a triumphant glint in her eyes.
Candy smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips. She reached down, her hand cupping Fiona’s chin, her thumb wiping a stray drop of cum from the corner of her mouth. “My turn,” she said, her voice a low growl.
She pushed Fiona back onto the lounger, her mouth finding Fiona’s, her tongue delving deep, tasting Mike on her lips. She kissed her way down Fiona’s body, her teeth scr4ping against her nipples, her tongue tracing the line of her stomach. She settled between Fiona’s legs, her hands parting her thighs, her mouth finding her clit.
Fiona’s back arched, a sharp cry escaping her lips. Candy was relentless, her tongue, her lips, her fingers working in perfect sync, pushing Fiona higher and higher, until she was teetering on the edge of a precipice. Then, just as Fiona was about to fall, Candy pulled back.
“Not yet,” she said, her voice a husky whisper. She looked over her shoulder at Mike, who was watching them, his cock already hard again. “I want you to fuck her. I want you to come inside her. Then I want you to come on me.”
Mike didn’t need to be told twice. He moved behind Fiona, his hands gripping her hips, his cock nudging against her wetness. He pushed in with a single, hard thrust, his balls slapping against her ass. Fiona cried out, her body arching to meet his.
Candy watched, her own body clenching in response. She positioned herself so she was lying in front of Fiona, her legs spread, her hand between them, her fingers stroking her own clit. “Look at me,” she commanded, her voice a low growl. “Look at me while he fucks you.”
Fiona’s eyes locked with Candy’s, her gaze a mixture of lust and defiance. Mike’s thrusts became harder, faster, his body a blur of motion. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, their ragged breaths, their soft cries, filled the air. It was a raw, primal symphony, and they were all playing their parts to perfection.
Mike’s rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming erratic. Candy could feel him getting close, his body tensing. “Now,” she said, her voice a sharp command. “Come for us.”
With a guttural groan, Mike obeyed. His body stiffened, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into Fiona. The sight of it, the knowledge of it, sent a wave of pleasure through Candy. She continued to stroke her clit, pushing herself over the edge.
When it was over, they collapsed in a heap, their bodies slick with sweat and other fluids. Mike’s cum was a warm, wet presence between Fiona’s thighs, a tangible proof of their shared intimacy. Candy reached down, her fingers dipping into the mess, then brought them to her lips, tasting the salty, musky flavor. She looked at Mike, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face. The weekend was proceeding exactly as planned.
The nights blurred together in warmth and closeness. The days followed in lazy fragments. Desire was constant, unspoken, shared. Fiona took what was offered with confidence and expectation. Candy allowed it, watched it, catalogued it.
When the weekend ended, it ended cleanly.
Fiona left satisfied, already looking forward in her own way. Candy closed the door and let the moment become memory.
Months passed. Silence followed.
Life adjusted to wealth. Plans grew larger. Fiona faded into the background until one evening when Candy’s phone rang.
The voice on the other end was sharper now. Fiona said she was pregnant. She spoke carefully, deliberately. She let the implication hang.
Fiona was discussing financial implications, how it wasn't anyone elses baby except Mike's.
It was obvious to Candy, that Fiona knew that Mike had inherited millions, yet Candy decided to join in Fiona's game.
Candy spoke to Mike, explaining that Fiona was pregnant, and expected Mike and her, to stand up and financially support his baby. Little did Fiona know that Mike had been sperm-less for over 18 years.
As the weeks went by, they turned into months, months moved closer to Fiona's baby being born.
As the due day arrived, and Fiona was in plus 1,2 and 3 of her due date, she continually asked Candy why she and Mike had not been providing baby items or helping with the nursery, etc.
The following day, Fiona gave birth to a baby girl.
the weeks that followed were a string of child maintenance claims, where Mike and Candy decided it was time to play their hand.
"Fiona, do you realise that Mike cannot father children? he hasn't been able to for about 18 or 19 years?" The look on Fiona's face was unforgettable, Candy had Called Fiona's bluff and played the game perfectly.
I suggest, you get in touch with the other guy you slept with, which i assume was after the weekend we all had together.
Candy never raised her voice. She never explained more than necessary.
Some lessons required only time and composure.
Mike and Candy moved forward together, closer than before. The weekend remained exactly what Candy had intended it to be. An indulgence. A test. And a reminder that patience, when paired with clarity, always wins.
As for Fiona, she was left to contact someone else. Someone real. Someone responsible. |
