My husband and I have been friends with Chloe and her husband for years—even lived together for a time. Other than playful butt slaps and boob grabs between me, her, and my husband, that was as far as it ever went. Occasionally, we’d have some hot massage sessions, but she always kept her underwear on. Hubby and I would joke about making her our third, but it was all in good fun.

She and my husband were in the same grade, while I’m four years younger. Fast forward to now—we all have our own homes and kids. I’m 5 feet tall, 120 pounds, with 34DD breasts. My husband is 5’8”, about 180 pounds, with an average-length but thick, girthy cock that stretches me just right. As for her? She has massive boobs—like anime-character proportions—and honestly, she could probably use surgery for them. But beyond that, she has a damn nice body.

One day, my husband suggested having her over with the kids for an old-school massage session. I was all in and invited her. She was super excited, saying she really needed a good massage.

The day finally came. We set up the massage table with fresh sheets, and she arrived soon after. I had some food ready, and we all hung out, watching kids’ shows while they settled down.

Then my husband said, “Chloe, why don’t you go to the bedroom? We remembered that scented oil you love—it smells so good on your skin all day.”

That was sweet of him. He actually went out and got it just for her after all these years.

“I’ll follow shortly,” he continued. “Lilly can watch the kids, and then you two can swap—or I can, if Lilly wants a Chloe massage.”

As I processed that, Chloe grinned and chirped, “Ooo, goodie!” Then she walked over and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

God, that turned me on so much. I wanted her to eat me out right then and there.

Instead, she spun around, heading toward the bedroom. “Mommy will be back soon, honey. If you need anything, ask Aunt Lilly!”

I didn’t think much of it—until my husband kissed me and walked away.

And suddenly, I felt nervous.

I didn’t know why, but something about it felt different this time.

Sitting there, watching Thomas the Train with the kids, I started getting irritated. Doubt crept in, slithering through my mind.

Were they only doing a massage?

Was it just a hot, teasing massage with boob touching and the occasional ‘accidental’ pussy brush?

Would she really keep her panties on this time?

The thoughts made me wet, which only confused me more. Why was I turned on by this?

She never took her panties off in the past—she had a rule, just like I had a rule with my husband.

“I’m overreacting,” I told myself, slipping my hand under the blanket. I started playing with myself, trying to calm down.

But damn, that was a long massage.

“I better go check if they need anything,” I thought—right as I heard the shower running.

A little while later, the water shut off, and Chloe emerged from the bedroom, fresh and clean, wearing my robe.

“I love this robe, hun! Where did you two get it? I need one.”

She walked over, gave me a flirty peck on the cheek, and smiled.

That smile. It wasn’t the same teasing smile I was used to. It was softer. More satisfied.

“Satisfied?”

“Okay, your turn! I’ll watch the kiddos.”

I could hear the shower running again in the background.

I walked into our bedroom, and there was my husband in the shower—sporting an obvious semi-hard-on.

“Sorry, babe,” he said. “I just needed to cool off a bit. You know I always get turned on when I get to put my hands on her. Go lie down on the table, and I’ll rub you down.”

I crawled under the sheet and immediately noticed a damp spot in the middle.

Not just oil.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice tighter than I meant.

“Oh, I must’ve spilled some oil,” he replied casually.

Too casual.

“See? I’m just overreacting,” I reassured myself.

Hubby came over, pouring warm lavender-scented oil—the kind Chloe liked—onto my skin and rubbing it in. His hands worked my muscles, then wandered lower, teasing my pussy as he let his thick, heavy cock rest on my hand. I gave him a squeeze, and he groaned.

He started playing with my pussy, his fingers slipping inside, working me over until I was trembling.

“Are you trying to make me squirt, you insane man?” I gasped.

“Yes,” he smirked. “You’ve been good.”

“Cum in me, Daddy,” I moaned.

But he shook his head.

“No, I want to save it up for later—to give you a bigger load.”

We quickly got our robes on and headed to the living room so Chloe could change. We said our goodbyes, and she headed off with her little one.

After Chloe left, I cleaned up the massage table, stripping off the sheets and replacing them with fresh ones. There was still a faint scent of lavender oil in the air, mixed with something else—something I didn’t want to think about too hard.

I threw the damp sheets into the laundry, my mind racing.

Hubby had played it off as just spilled oil.

But I wasn’t stupid.

And yet… the thought of it—the possibility, the way he had worked me up afterward—made my stomach tighten in arousal.

Later that night, after the kids were asleep, he came up behind me, pressing his body against mine, his hands already teasing me as he whispered, “You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. My body betrayed me.

I moaned as he pushed me forward onto the bed, spreading me open, sliding inside me.

He took me from behind, slow at first, then harder, his hands gripping my hips as he filled my ass with his thick, pulsing cock, making me gasp.

My whole body quivered as I collapsed onto the sheets, feeling him still pulsing inside me.

He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me as I dripped with him.

I closed my eyes, exhausted.

And that’s when it hit me.

He knew.

He had known exactly how and when to push my boundaries.

Knew I would resist. Knew I would question it.

Knew I would want it.

Even before I realized it myself.