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one more bedroom than we
need,” said Jannick. “But the fourth bedroom might be a suitable
photography studio for you, Sylvia?”
    Sylvia beamed and disappeared into the fourth
bedroom.
    Eloria led Jannick to the master suite and
opened the doors wide to discover ... an unmade bed. She glanced
nervously at Jannick, who met her eye with an understanding
grin.
    Wordlessly, he closed the distance to the
bed, turned up the corner of the duvet, and arranged the pillows.
Eloria stood rooted with embarrassment, struggling with what to
say.
    “I think,” said Jannick, “that this is a
place where Sylvia and I could be ... should we say ... very happy.
Shall we discuss terms, Ms. Solis?”
    “But ... you haven’t seen the en suite? The
pool?”
    “They’re charmingly adequate, I’m sure.”
    “And you’re aware of the asking price?”
    “I think you’ll find we’re well qualified.”
He extended a hand. “Shall we talk further?”
    “I think ... I think, yes,” blushed
Eloria.

SEVEN
    “Hi, honey!” called Charles from the kitchen,
where the chop chop chop of the knife on the cutting board
mingled with the rumbling voices of the speakerphone conference
call on which he was keeping an ear.
    Eloria brought her rumpled, flushed form to
the kitchen doorway. “I sold a house today. A big one.”
    “Awesome!” said Charles, looking up for an
instant from the diced vegetables, recognizing her shape and
presence, but not really seeing her. He looked back to his
chopping, and kept an ear on the call.
    “Where’s Gabriel?” she asked.
    “Afterschool play practice. I was gonna head
out in an hour to pick him up.”
    “And that call, is it important?”
    “Nah, just a listening call.”
    “Are you muted?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I fucked two men today.”
    The knife instantly stopped moving, leaving
only the sound of the echoing speakerphone voices. Charles looked
up, knife in hand. He was smiling.
    “I fucked two men today,” she repeated. “I’d
like to make it three.”
    He charged for her, and almost there, changed
directions and made for the sink, where he quickly scrubbed the
onion juice from his hands. She disappeared around the corner.
    Eloria’s clothes draped the hallway floor,
and Charles found her nude and spread on the bed by the time he
arrived. He tore away his shirt, stumbled from his pants, and
stripped off his boxers. His eager erection telegraphed his
thoughts about Eloria’s confession.
    In an instant, he was on her, in her, rending
a gasp from her as his cock speared readily into her soaking pussy.
He gathered her in his arms and took her hard, cheek to cheek.
    “Oh god ... your pussy,” he cried, not having
to be quiet, because they were the only ones in the house. “It’s
fucking soaking!”
    “It’s the cum,” she replied. “You’re fucking
other men’s cum!”
    He yelled and tensed, and the assault of his
cock continued. She drank it in, mixing the immediate sensation of
Charles’s cock with the ghosts of Jack’s and Ryan’s.
    “Your pussy,” he continued, “it’s so swollen.
Swollen almost shut. It feels different. It’s stretched into a new
shape ... it’s like fucking a brand new pussy!”
    She felt it too — the urgent invasions of
Jack’s skilled cock and Ryan’s slender one had puffed her pussy so
full and soft, and shaped its pliant walls around their penises,
that even Charles’s well-known cock felt unfamiliar. It was like
being taken by three new men in the same day. She tensed and
screamed at the thought.
    He thrust deep, ceased his pounding rhythm,
and began a slow, penetrating grind. His animal body made full
contact with her pillow-soft skin, and they danced
cheek-to-cheek.
    “Did you like it?” he whispered.
    “So much! So much,” she answered without
thinking.
    “You didn’t cum on their cocks, did you?”
    “Yes! I did!”
    “Oh god ... that’s so fucking sexy ...” the
growl came from deep in his chest. “Tell me ...”
    “I came ... I