The living room was filled with the scent of jasmine candles and the tart notes of women's perfume—the floral trail of Zhanna and the fresh, almost marine scent of Christina. I sat in a chair, watching them as jazz played softly, and they, the two friends, settled on the huge sofa, their bare feet touching. Zhanna, my red-haired wife, was the embodiment of temptation in her short black dress. Her curves, the very ones that had driven me crazy all these years, stood out softly in the dim light. Christina, a slender blonde in tight jeans and a silk tank top, gestured as she told yet another amusing story. A provocative tattoo on her ankle peeked out from under her jeans, and a silver piercing in her belly button glinted with every movement. "Boris, don't stare like you're at an exhibition," Zhanna winked at me, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Want to join in? There's plenty of room." I moved to the sofa, feeling a slight arousal creeping in. Christina smiled at me, her gaze bold and appraising. “Zhanna said that you… aren’t averse to experimenting,” she said, licking the rim of her glass. “It depends on the experiment,” I countered, but my heart was already beating faster. Zhanna reached out and caressed my cheek, then, without a word, turned to Christina and kissed her. It wasn't a gentle girlish kiss, but a passionate, deep kiss, with parted lips and a wet sound. I froze, watching her fingers entwine in her friend's blond hair, their bodies pressed together. Jealousy? No. This was something else, something intoxicating and animalistic. Seeing your wife, the woman you love, passionately kiss another woman—it ignited a fire in me I'd never known before. They walked away, out of breath and with smeared lipstick. “We’re tired of just kissing,” Zhanna whispered, looking at me, and her hands reached for the straps of her dress. Everything happened quickly. The clothes landed on the carpet. I sat, mesmerized, while Zhanna, covered in freckles and with fiery red hair, knelt before Christina. She pressed her lips to her small, firm breast, licking a hard nipple with her tongue, and her fingers slid along the thin lace of Christina's panties. She threw her head back with a soft moan, her hands gripping Zhanna's shoulders. I unzipped my fly, freeing my hard, painfully tense member, and began to slowly masturbate, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle. "Boris," Zhanna called to me, her voice hoarse with desire. "Come here." I walked over, and they both pulled me onto the carpet. Their bodies entwined in a single ball of lust. I felt Zhanna's silky skin under my fingers, and Christina's firmer, more athletic skin. Their lips sought mine, their hands gliding over my body. I kissed Zhanna, tasting the sweet taste of Christina's lipstick on my tongue. Zhanna, without taking her lips off mys, pulled Christina along with her. "Lick her, Borya," she whispered. "Lick her pussy. I want to watch." Christina lay on her back, her long legs spread, her eyes full of challenge. I lowered myself between her thighs. Her pussy was neat, almost completely shaved, with the pink bud of her clitoris swollen with arousal. I ran my tongue along her entire slit, feeling her shudder. The taste was tart, salty, intoxicating. I pushed my tongue deeper, caressing her wet, hot insides until she moaned, her fingers digging into my hair. While I was licking Christina, Zhanna positioned herself to the side and took my cock into her mouth. The sensation was mind-blowing—the hot, wet flesh of her mouth, the skillful movements of her tongue over the head, while my own tongue was immersed in completely different flesh. I heard wet sounds mixed with moans, and felt both women's bodies pressed against me. It was a complete sensory overload. We moved into the bedroom, onto our huge bed, where the wall mirrors reflected our naked, heavily breathing trio. Zhanna lay on her back, and I entered her with one powerful, confident thrust. She cried out, wrapping her legs around me, her vagina, familiar and familiar, clenching around my cock, accepting it greedily. I began to move, establishing a rhythm. Christina, the cunning fox, crept up behind me. She lay on top of Zhanna, their chests pressed together, and they locked in a passionate kiss. Then Christina climbed over us and lowered her wet cunt onto my face. "Lick me while you fuck my friend," she moaned. And I licked. I immersed myself in her sweetness, feeling her clit throb on my tongue as my cock mercilessly thrust in and out of my wife's hot flesh. Jeanne's juices flowed down my balls, mixing with my sweat and her saliva. The mirrors reflected this madness: my tense body, Jeanne arching beneath me, and Christine's back arched above my face. Then they both found themselves on their knees in front of me. Two pairs of eyes, green and blue, looked at my cock, glistening with their mixed juices. “Suck,” I breathed out, and they didn’t keep me waiting. Zhanna took the head into her mouth, and Christina began to caress my balls and the base of my shaft with her tongue. Their tongues slid over me, their saliva dripping down my skin, mingling. I looked down at this bukvoeb.run picture: my wife and her best friend, both greedily servicing my cock. "Suck my dick, bitches," I hissed, and they only moaned in response, quickening their pace. We swapped positions, as if in some sweet, lustful dance. At one point, Christina found herself on all fours, and I entered her from behind, into her tight, scorchingly hot vagina. She screamed, pressing her forehead into the mattress, while Zhanna, my incredible wife, approached her from the front and positioned herself in a 69 position, burying her face between her friend's legs. I saw her red curls disappear between Christina's thighs and heard her moan, feeling the double penetration—my cock from behind and Zhanna's tongue from the front. Then Zhanna stood up and went to the closet, where she pulled out our strap-on—a black, realistically shaped one. She quickly put it on, and the sight of my wife with a phallus protruding from her vagina was both shocking and incredibly arousing. "You don't mind if I do, do you?" she smiled at Christina. In response, she merely languidly spread her legs. Zhanna knelt between them and slowly but surely entered her friend. Christina clasped her hands above her head, her body arching with pleasure. I approached and inserted my cock into her half-open mouth, fucking it in time with my wife's thrusts. Christina sucked my cock with wild greed, her eyes rolling back in her head, tears and drool streaming down her cheeks. The climax came suddenly and powerfully, like a hurricane. We all found ourselves in a heap on the crumpled sheet. I was inside Zhanna again; she was lying on her back, and Christina was pressed against her side, rubbing her clitoris against my thigh, her moans deafening. I felt Zhanna contract around me, her insides trembling in orgasm. Her scream triggered Christina, who came right after, her body convulsing, her juices drenching my leg. This sight, this chaos, this absolute surrender tore a final, powerful series of thrusts from me. I entered Zhanna to the very base and spilled all my sperm into her, with a hoarse cry, feeling the hot cum fill her. We froze, breathing heavily, intertwined in one sweaty, sticky lump that smelled of sex and happiness. Afterwards, we lay there, hugging each other, listening to our hearts beat. No one spoke. Then the three of us went into the shower, washed each other, and their gentle touches were so intimate that they almost eclipsed the sex itself. In the morning, Christina left, leaving a light kiss for both me and Zhanna. The door closed, and silence reigned in the apartment. My wife and I lay in bed, smelling of clean linens and our bodies. "What are you thinking about?" Zhanna asked quietly, hugging me. I looked at her, at her tired but happy face, at her red hair scattered across the pillow. "I'm thinking about how incredibly cool yesterday was," I replied. "And about what I want to do again." She smiled, a mysterious and satisfied smile. - I knew you'd like it. And I realized this wasn't just an orgy. It was the discovery of a new facet of ourselves, a new form of desire, where jealousy turned into adrenaline, and the forbidden into the sweetest pleasure. And the scent of her perfume, mixed with Christina's and our shared sweat, will forever remain in my memory as the aroma of absolute, unfettered passion.