Unknown Desires Ch. 01

FRIDAY NIGHT

1

It wasn't until early Sunday morning, that Michelle had appreciated her husband's promise to make sure that everyone loved her, was more real than she imagined.

A beautiful woman in her early-thirties, dark hair and oceanic eyes, Michelle always felt an emptiness that she couldn't quite fill. Logan, her husband, always tried his best to fulfill her every desire, but sensed that there was something missing. Inadequacy had never been an issue, but he always wanted more for his queen.

Logan made sure to always show Michelle how she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but as most marriages go, after a few years, the words felt placating.

She was beautiful, strong and delicate. The kind of woman that looked as radiant as a summer morning, and a sultry little minx that he loved to display at restaurants and bars, demanding that she wore low cut blouses and jeans that would ride up in back. And front.

Every now and again, if he caught someone staring at her clothed, but defined slit, he would slowly place his hand over and brush his finger where the denim pulled in.

A few nights ago, Logan had invited his closest friends to spend the weekend. It had been nearly a year since they had a full weekend, and a three-hour get together at a bar was out of the question.

And Michelle and Logan's estate was more than accommodating, with six spare bedrooms and a guest house overlooking the lake, in case anyone needed more space or wanted to continue their camaraderie in private, nowhere else in the world would have substituted. And the surrounding upstate forest brought a peace and silence worthy of a resort vacation.

Nicholas, Logan's best friend and his wife, Olivia, jumped at the invitation, as did their four other friends.

Though few and far between reunions, butterflies would always flutter in Michelle's belly when she would watch Logan doubled over in laughter with his friends, childish and childlike, with the same smile that made her fall in love with him all those years ago. And every time she watched him, Michelle would smile to herself that she would do anything for him.

Anything.

And this weekend, she proved it.

2

Friday night began quiet and relaxed. The sun set late in the crisp Spring evening, and nature's orchestral serenade welcomed the moon in a symphony of delight.

Logan arrived later than hoped from work, and paused for a moment at the front door before entering, and marveled at the twilight sky and gentle breeze.

"Hey, Logan! Glad you finally made it," Nicholas called out. "Hope you don't mind I parked right on Michelle's ass."

Logan drew back and smiled.

"It's a tight one, you know. Enjoy it while you can," Logan said.

"Always! I know your truck's bigger than mine, but I know you; you'll still find a way to slip it in."

Michelle bit her lip and squeezed her thighs together when Nicholas finished. She looked to Olivia sitting at the kitchen island, inhaling through what seemed like a silent kiss.

Shortly after, Logan's other friends had arrived. It wasn't long before the eight of them retired to the great room and started up the drinking and the shenanigans.

Just as always, they laughed and joked and laughed some more. Michelle did feel special that night as the only other woman in the house. "Michelle, can I get you this, Michelle, can I get you that," was the norm between what she felt was the obligatory compliments on her looks. Even Olivia was very accommodating.

A few rounds of drinks later, and conversations eased. Nolan and Stephen, two of Logan's other friends, had already passed out on the oversized leather couch. By midnight, Robert and David decided to retreat to the guest house.

Michelle felt the four, five if she was counting, glasses of Cabernet catch up to her senses. Through her velvety miasma, she tried to discern if Nicholas' gaze drifted between her braless breasts to the sweet spot between her legs, or if his piercing green eyes were just swimming from the eight-or-so beers that might have taken its toll. A lady of few words, Olivia only eyed him up and down.

Michelle then nodded in agreement. It was hard to miss. The fullness that worked from between Nicholas' legs, curving under his inner thigh was enough to make any girl blush.

It wasn't long before Logan noticed the exchange. Michelle couldn't help but stare at her husband as he studied his best friend with a rather unfamiliar smile curling his lips. Then, out of habit or jostling, Logan slid his hand across Michelle's thigh and gently placed his middle finger in the fold. Michelle nestled back into the couch when she perceived a breath of delight from Nicholas as Logan's finger curled up and down. Her eyes drifted back and forth between her husband and the observers. They just smiled at each other in silence.

She lifted Logan's hand away and rose to her feet. Inadvertently stretching as she stood, her t-shirt rode up, and pulled the white cotton across her hardened nipples.

"I'm beat," Michelle said. "Think I'm heading up. You coming, sweetie?"

Logan's fix on Nicholas didn't waver when he answered, "Not yet."

She asked him not to take too long, knowing she would most likely pass out just as easily as their friends, and Michelle never missed a goodnight kiss. She hoped that this night would not be the exception.

"I'll just be a minute, angel," he said before taking her by the wrist and drawing her close. "I need to talk to Nick and Olivia for a moment. And you're wearing the blindfold when I get upstairs."

My breath drew short as he took my nipple between his fingers and tugged.

"Ten minutes, I'll be up. Can you just pour us each another Scotch before you go," he asked.

She turned one more time as she stepped into the kitchen. The hair on the back of her neck stood when she watched Logan lean forward and whisper to Nicholas and Olivia. Logan's eyes shifted to Michelle, he wagged his finger and slumped back into the couch. Michelle took one gulp from the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue before pouring.

An over-eager, "Of course," was the only phrase she heard from Nicholas as she tiptoed back through the living room. His head snapped to her when the ice shifted in the glass.

"What're you boys talking about," Michelle asked.

Logan smiled and patted her ass.

"Nothing to worry about," he said as Nicholas rose from his seat.

"Do I at least get a goodnight hug," he asked, arms outstretched.

Nicholas was big. Slightly bigger than Logan, but not as chiseled. He had a mass that would intimidate most men, and a comfort that would invite most women.

His embrace was encompassing as Michelle felt a passionate tension across her lower back.

Was it intimate, she wondered. Maybe it was since they hadn't seen each other in so long. Maybe it was the drifting inhibitions from the night of drinking. Maybe it was something stirring in her that she didn't want to acknowledge.

Olivia stood and pulled Michelle in close. Michelle didn't flinch when Olivia held her by the back of her head, and kissed the corner of her lips.

"Goodnight, princess," Olivia purred.

Michelle drew back and silently made her way to the winding stairway and listened for the silent whispers as she ascended. Michelle heard nothing but the exhale of pleasure after sipping Scotch, and her own thundering heartbeat.

3

Stepping onto the marble landing atop the stairs, Michelle reassured herself how much she loved her husband, and how much he loved her. It's not every girl who marries the man of their dreams; devoted, honest and a gorgeous.

"You are my trifecta," Michelle told him on many occasions.

Then why was she feeling this insatiable desire around his best friend? Was there something in the wine?

Michelle waved it off and stepped into the shower, peeling off her clothes and letting them fall where they may as she walked in. Keeping the water cool to ease the swirl of wine and that good belt of Scotch in her head, she told herself that everything was normal. That her husband would come up and make love to her, roll over and sleep. That's it.

Michelle closed her eyes and envisioned Nicholas standing before her, open his jeans and confirm what she stared at a little too long for a glance. Fiery wetness shot to her lower lips.

"Stop it!" she snapped. She shut the water off and wrapped the towel around dripping body.

"Stop what," Logan asked, startling her as she reentered the bedroom. He had a look she couldn't discern.

"Stop what," he repeated. She didn't look him in the eye when she said she was fighting the wine. She halted him at arm's length when he stepped up to her for a kiss.

"You're hiding something," Michelle said. "But I know you'll—"

"Nicholas wants to fuck you," Logan said.

Michelle chuckled and shook her head. Logan wrapped his arm around her waist, and pressed his seam-threatening erection against her.

"Oh, yeah? And what about Olivia? What does she think?" she hummed.

"She wants you more than Nick."

Logan stifled her laughter with his gaze. He kissed her, deeply, and she felt her emotion, and wine, eradicate her balance.

"You also drank my Scotch," he said. She covered her lips and considered the dry toothbrush atop the sink. A sly smile curled the corner of his lips.

"Is that bad?" Michelle asked.

"Maybe," he answered. "Where's the blindfold?"

Her rueful gaze lost in his following commandment.

"Get it," he snapped before she could consider a rebuttal. Michelle obeyed and made her way back to the foot of the bed where Logan waited.

"Put it on," he said.

"But—"

"It wasn't a request."

Michelle resisted for a moment, knowing that Nolan, Stephen, Nicholas and Olivia might hear them. Hear her. Michelle had never exactly been the quiet type when she let go. Logan watched and waited until the satin blindfold covered her vision.

"Would you let him," he said.

"Let who, what?" she asked as Logan ensured the blindfold subdued her vision.

"Would you let Nicholas fuck you?"

Michelle stood there, unable to move, unable to breathe. They had their kinks; light BDSM, role playing, semi-public interludes, but not this. Sure, he's joked, or maybe hinted at voyeurism and letting other people watch, but this...

Unable to bare it any longer, she bore her only truth.

"I love you, Logan Richards. And I would never cheat on you. Especially with your best friend."

He lifted her by the chin and pressed his lips to hers.

"I love you, Michelle. I always will. But that's not what I asked. Would you let him fuck you?"

She refused to answer. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think. She didn't—

In one fluid motion, Logan yanked off her towel and spun her around. He gently wrapped his hand over Michelle's throat and arched her head close to him. She could smell the Scotch on his breath and his excitement pressing against her backside.

Logan repeated his question to deaf ears. The only sound she heard was her rapid-fire heartbeat pulsating through her entire body. His other hand drifted across her heaving breasts, down her supply belly and to the top of her smooth mound.

Again, he asked. Again, she wouldn't relent. He bent her over the bed, holding her down under his strong grip.

Her love that began to slowly drip down her inner thigh whispered what he wanted to hear. And she let him know it when two fingers slipped a little too easily within.

Logan began to massage her delicate spot, slowly, steadily, pushing his thumb against her back hole with each stroke of the two fingers in her. She let out a muffled yelp when his thumb didn't ask for her acceptance. Little by little, his rhythm increased and her shallow gasps followed. Her legs tightened and shook as she felt her G-spot inflate and pulse.

"Would you let him fuck you?"

She couldn't answer. She was too focused on the walls of her pussy clamping down and swallowing his fingers.

As soon as the first pulse of her come shot out from the fiery throb of her sex, Logan withdrew his fingers and pulled her by the hair.

"Answer me," he demanded.

She couldn't. She pressed her thighs together and hoped she could finish herself off without his permission. He must have sensed it because he thrust his leg between hers, forcing them open.

"No!" Michelle gasped, fighting his denial.

He let go of Michelle's hair and stepped back. She heard his belt buckle come undone and the slump of jeans hit the carpet.

"No, you wouldn't let him fuck you? Or no—"

"No, let me come!"

Silence filled the room as she considered Logan's two friends in the guest house, and probably everyone in the great room might have heard her.

"Let me come," she ached.

"No," he whispered.

Michelle surrendered as he manhandled her, but couldn't help but wonder why he didn't make her get on her knees and suck him off. Whenever he was in command, he made damn sure his throbbing head made its way to the back of Michelle's throat; forcibly if necessary. And by this point, she wanted to taste it as he held her by the back of her head.

Before she had the chance to settle, he kicked her legs open. Logan grabbed Michelle by the wrist and forced her hands down as she attempted to remove the blindfold. Her muscles slackened, signaling her submission.

She felt the warmth of his breath before he claimed her pussy with his lips.

Michelle's hips arched upwards, almost subconsciously, as he drove his tongue deeper inside, lapping every part of her. Eating her out from behind made Michelle soak with excitement. It was her favorite position. The vulnerability would make her quiver each time the tip of his nose, or his tongue would flicker at her backdoor. She would most certainly come when he forced his hungry tongue inside.

Again, as she gasped, ready to fill his regular desire of coming in his mouth, he drew back and stepped away.

Michelle groaned. Her belly tightened as her back lurched over. Her entire body clenched.

His warm, firm grip directed her hips upward again as her forehead buried into the bed. He rubbed the head of his manhood at her ravenous slit as he asked again.

She whimpered an answer he didn't quite hear, or—

The aroma of Scotch and his musk greeted her nostrils as he thrust in. The wide base of his shaft parted tight, wet lips as his member expanded more. Her sex contracted to no avail. She was swollen and filled with a length and girth she had never felt before. And her heat welcomed it more than ever.

"Ask me again," she begged.

"Would you let him fuck you?" he said, steadying his pace. Michelle felt her pussy slicken as her juices met his. The swishing sound of his cock thrashing in and out of her, claimed her overwhelming desire to come.

"Yes," Michelle finally breathed. The small, initial orgasm rocked her hips.

"Yes, what?" he asked, smacking his hips to her ass harder and harder. Her breath puffed in and out like a locomotive as she repeatedly answered, "Yes."

Logan's hips thrust back as he poised the head of his cock at the mouth of her aching pussy, either ready to explode, make her wait even longer or ready deliver her bliss from the inside. He gripped her hip with one hand and growled. The other hand pulled at her hair again.

The position of his hand seemed either off, or the twitching of her entire body subdued all proper sensation. The wetness between her legs began to feel like a deluge.

"I don't want a one-word answer. Tell me."

Michelle's eyes shot open, but still couldn't see his expression. Tone and a massive, engorged intention, was her only guide.

"I would let him."

He stopped. She reached under and grabbed his balls as he began to withdraw from her begging, aching pussy.

"You would let who, what?" he demanded.

"Nicholas. Fuck me," she said.

He slipped the head of his cock inside again. The fire erupted once more when the base of his girth forced her wider.

"Say it," he commanded, pushing further.

Michelle knew Logan wanted to, needed to come. Maybe more than she did. She surrendered.

"I'd let Nicholas fuck me! I want him to fuck me while you watch! Now come inside of me, you fucking bastard!"

Logan rammed in long, deafening strokes. The pulsing contraction that erupted from her pussy shot its way up her spine. Her hands twitched and the veins in her throat bulged. Her back hunched further down, sucking his spurting cock deeper into her cunt. Her pussy clamped down and milked every drop of hot semen from him. And she howled in acceptance.

Her final cry bloated in Michelle's throat. and the shuddering, screaming climax that should have awoken the dead, wrenched her ass upward and pushed her calves up from her toes.

Logan pinned her down as he continued to thrust, his orgasm still filling her. The smack of balls against her clit erased all but her haggard gasping. His long moan of delight contradicted his jackhammering as he throttled her gushing pussy at a blistering pace. Again, she came, harder, louder. And she no longer cared if anyone had heard her.

The guys in the guest house, the ones passed out in the living room, Nicholas and Olivia, had to hear every inch of Logan fuck Michelle into heavenly bliss. And they deserved to know how good Logan serviced his wife, his lover, his filthy, little whore. Michelle didn't care if they all snuck in the room to watch, blindfolded, shuddering and gasping.

In fact, she wanted it. And the idea made her come again. Her legs buckled and her hands trembled. Sweat pooled on her lower back and goose bumps riddled her body as the warm gush of his come continued to flow inside. An angelic embrace clamped her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as her love squeezed from her eyelids, and her vulva.

As Logan's cock slipped from her fiery crease, she contracted, and forced his love, and hers onto the carpet. She heard his heavy, uneven footfalls, his usual when she knew he was a bit embarrassed to consider his wife's loving, satisfied eyes as he stumbled away. It wasn't until she heard the click of the bathroom door that he told her to take the blindfold off.

Michelle rolled onto her back and ran her fingers through her hair. The blindfold fluttered away.

A long, satiated sigh filled in the silence. And for a moment, she wondered if it was the bathroom or bedroom door that clicked closed.

And did Logan just talk her through their love making to Nick?

Back in the day, she had seen many videos like that on the internet. And they made her wonder what it was like as she fingered herself to it.

Logan returned, still naked, still erect and still wobbling. He was smiling through slitted lids, but wouldn't look at his wife as he crawled under the duvet. Michelle caressed his cheek as he lay beside her and he purred.

"Logan? Sweetie? Can I ask you something?" she said. He returned a grunt.

"Did you mean it?"

He furrowed his brow and kisses the tip of her nose as slumber already began to claim him.

"About Nicholas... with me."

He didn't answer.

"Logan? You awake?"

Nothing.

The question ruminated for the rest of the night as post-coital lucidity attempted to return rationale.

Did he mean it? Did she mean it? Would she let him? Did he do it already?

Impossible. Michelle knew Logan's scent, his hands, the way he kissed her. Every inch and the slight curve of his manhood and how his grip tightens right before he comes.

No, that was Logan.

Right?