Menage by Emma Holly

the rice was nice and spicy - not unlike me! I spent a good portion of the meal moaning over how delicious everything was. Joe relished that, in more ways than one.
    When he stood to help me clear the dinner table, he had a hard time straightening. His erection, thick as Philly bratwurst, extended into the left leg of his jeans. Grimacing, he tried to tug the denim off the bulbous head.
    I hid a smile as I preceded him into the kitchen. 'You've got a choice.' I set the first few plates into the sink. 'I can help you load the dishwasher, or I can get a head start on my shower.'
    Joe latched on to me from behind and rubbed his erection down the outside of my thigh. Unbelievably, it stretched at the treatment.
    'Boo- hoo ,’ he pretended to cry. 'My balls are bluer than Frank Sinatra's eyes. Why do you have to take a shower?'
    Now was probably not the time to mention I might be a little fragrant from my morning encounter with Sean. 'Because women are funny that way?'
    'All right,’ he said with flattering reluctance, 'but save some good spots for me to wash. I'll be up soon.'
    I started stripping on my way out, divesting myself of blouse, shoes and trousers before I hit the threshold. Once there, I turned and posed for him. Beneath my clothes I wore the yellow teddy Sean had tried to pass off as mine. Braless today, my nipples flirted with the peek-a-boo lace, hard as gumdrops - and twice as tempting, to go by Joe's expression.
    He shook his head at me. His hand cupped his crotch as if to hold back imminent explosion. 'I'll be up very soon. In fact, if you don't hurry, I'll beat you there.'
    Giggling as I hadn't in years, I scampered upstairs, so elated my feet barely touched the treads.
    True to his word, Joe didn't keep me waiting long. The bathroom door slammed open minutes later. For a moment, he stood watching me through the shower's rippled glass. I could hear his heavy breathing over the spray. He must have run upstairs. When he'd gazed his fill at my blurred image, he shoved the door along its track. Pushing my wet hair from my eyes, I saw that he'd stripped, too.
    I lost my breath. There was something about having him here, standing outside my shower, stark-naked and ready to rut. My eyes raked him up and down, taking in the well-shaped hairy legs, the narrow hips, the perfect development of his torso. His pecs were high and flat like a young girl's. He hadn't been kidding about having blue balls, either. Tinged with teal, his testicles had drawn up so high they kissed the base of his cock. While I stared, they jerked in their sac as if with a life of their own.
    'Well?' he said, unable to read my awe.
    'I think I'm going to faint.' I was only half joking. Waves of heat pulsed through my body and my head swam as if I'd stood up too fast.
    'Please don't,’ he said, with a hint of a smile. He tossed a handful of condoms on to the sink. They weren't my brand. What a sweetie he was. Most guys would have exhausted my supply before they'd even consider buying their own. Joe's mother must have raised him right. I watched him don one with a deep, proprietary pride.
    'Now I'm ready for anything,' he said, and swung his long bronzed legs into the tub.
    I opened my arms and he stepped into them.
    'Oh, Joe.' I hugged him tightly, too tightly maybe, but he felt so good, as if we'd been made to fit together. 'I can't believe you're really here. I spent so many nights fantasising about you.'
    He swayed me from side to side, his cock a thick, hot prong between our bellies. 'Good. I shouldn't be the only one losing sleep.'
    'You're not.' I sleeked his hair back from his forehead.
    His eyes closed at my touch. His hands drifted to my front and squeezed my breasts. I groaned at the moulding caress.
    'Sweet,' he said, circling the heavy globes. 'You've got the prettiest breasts I've ever seen. They're nice and full, but they hang just right.' He nuzzled the tiny curl in front of my ear. 'I love your hair, too. It's like caramel with the