Shadows of Desire

By this point, we’ll place ourselves at the end of January, and after everything with Daniel, we wanted to carefully plan our 2024—not just in terms of our intimate life but also in other areas. We were halfway through our master’s degree, and everything felt a bit complicated, but time is like a game of Jenga—you have to know how to stack everything just right.

This time, we set out to find Mark and the others. Clothes? Nothing special—just a denim skirt, a red blouse, high heels, and no underwear.

When we arrived at the spot, we were greeted by a few homeless folks who pointed us toward Mark and Tom. They weren’t in their usual hangout this time. As soon as they saw us, they came over to meet us, and we said hi to Chris too, who was eyeing my wife. As usual, we caught up about our lives since they’d become a part of ours.

Even though Chris kept staring at my wife a lot, he seemed calmer now, more at ease. There wasn’t any tension with Mark, and the vibe felt better overall. Tom was eager to get started with my wife, but Mark told him to chill out—there’d be time soon enough. We were in the middle of sharing some really good stories—scary ones, which Emily and I absolutely love. Of course, we won’t bore you with those here since they’re beside the point.
After a while of all the chit-chat, we finally got down to business.

“About time!” Tom exclaimed.

He took my wife away from the edge of the street, pressed her against a wall—or what was left of it—and started kissing her. Emily slipped her hand into Tom’s boxers, stroking him at the same time. The mood was heating up until she eventually slid down, kissing his chest as she pulled his boxers lower. His erection sprang free, swaying slightly from the fabric’s movement. It was her favorite—she always put extra effort into it. She teased the tip with her tongue to get him going even more.

After some brief oral, Tom lay down on the ground, and Emily straddled him, riding him but facing away from him. That’s when Chris and Mark came closer, their eyes locked on her exposed body. Then Mark said, “You know, there’s just one thing left to officially make you one of us.”

I looked at Emily, and she looked at me, both of us wondering what crazy idea he’d come up with now.

“What’s that?” she asked, breathless.

“Well, like we told you the first time, we’re a little self-conscious about ourselves sometimes, being the way we are, while you’re so well-groomed…” Mark trailed off.

“Uh-huh,” Emily replied, skeptical.

“You’ll need to let that grow out a bit more,” he said, pointing down there.

“I’ve never liked that,” she shot back.

“Come on! We’re all the same way,” he said, dropping his pants.

“Look, look…” Mark added, guiding himself toward her mouth. She gave in and started going down on him.

Emily laughed, half-resigned, and told them she’d let it grow a little but would trim it since she’d never been a fan of going full-on natural. They agreed to that.

February rolled by, and eventually, the hair grew out. She kept trimming it, though, shaping it into a Japanese-style look—neatly framing her lips and meeting just above, rising a couple of inches. It was a middle ground, aesthetic enough, but neither of us could quite get used to it—her for having it, me for seeing it.

Once again, we headed to the abandoned construction site. This time, Emily wore a light blue T-string thong that sat flush against her skin. The hair, though not too long, was noticeable. She paired it with a miniskirt and a half-zipped light blue hoodie, plus her usual high heels.

When we got there, Mark, Chris, and Tom were eager to check her progress. Emily sat down, and Chris slid her thong aside. They were pleased with what they saw—we’d kept our end of the deal. Now, they all wanted a piece of the action.

It came down to rock-paper-scissors to decide who’d go first, and Chris won.

He pulled his boxers down a bit, and surprise—he was clean! They’d apparently bathed that day. Emily didn’t hesitate, taking him into her mouth, kissing the tip, running her tongue underneath to tickle him, sliding down to his balls, then back up again.

When he was slick with her saliva, Chris went down on Emily with a hungry urgency, his tongue everywhere, dipping inside until she was soaked with a mix of spit and her own wetness. Mark and Tom watched, waiting their turns.
Emily lay back on the dusty ground, spreading her legs to invite Chris in. It was a scene like many others, except now a light patch of hair framed her lips. Chris positioned himself and slid inside, starting slow. Mark and Tom had already pulled themselves out, eager for their chance.

Chris kept going in missionary, thrusting into her. After about five minutes, he couldn’t hold back and cum inside her. He stood up, and almost instantly, his release spilled out—only to be pushed back in by Mark, who was inside her before we even noticed.

After that, Emily got up to ride Mark. She did that signature move that feels strange to us guys but drives women wild—grinding, then sliding up and down. She was loving every second of it until a small orgasm hit her. She paused, sitting there with Mark still inside her, catching her breath. Then Tom nudged her forward a bit, putting her on all fours over Mark.