They wasted no time, these two. Hubby pulled me close first, kissing me deeply while Alex came up behind, his hands sliding over my satin top, cupping my breasts. They stripped me slowly, savoring it—the skirt unzipped and pooled at my feet, the top lifted over my head, leaving me in just those stockings and the plug. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly alive as they guided me to the bed.

In the room, the air was thick with promise. Hubby’s eyes burned with hunger as he told me to ditch the coat. I let it slide off, revealing the lace and satin clinging to my curves like a lover’s hands. My nipples strained against the basque, and my exposed pussy glistened under the dim lights. “On your knees,” he growled, and I dropped, the carpet rough against my stockings. He pulled out a purple satin scarf, its rich color a stark contrast to my pale getup. He tied it tight over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. My senses went wild—the creak of the bed, the musky scent of his arousal, the way my own cunt pulsed with need.