Elena and I had hit a rough patch—our sex life had grown stale, predictable, even though I still craved her stunning body and the way she expertly handled me. Everything changed when we took in Aria, an eighteen-year-old runaway with no family, scared and desperate for connection. Her insistence on constant nudity around the house sparked something dormant in us. At first it was awkward, then tempting, then irresistible. When she begged to show her love through touch, through sharing my cock with my wife, we realized this was what our family needed: raw, uninhibited intimacy to bind us together.
Elena and I had been married eight years, and somewhere along the way, the fire dimmed. She was still the sexiest woman I'd ever known—thirty-five, with long auburn curls that cascaded over her full, heavy D-cup breasts, a soft hourglass figure, and these plush lips that could make me hard with a single sultry glance. She knew exactly how to stroke me, how to edge me until I was begging, her manicured fingers gliding over my thick shaft with practiced twists. But the spark was gone. Sex felt like routine, not passion.
That's when we met Aria. She was eighteen, a runaway we'd found through a local shelter program—scared, wide-eyed, with no family to claim her. Petite and delicate, she had porcelain skin, waist-length honey-blonde hair, small perky B-cup tits with pale pink nipples, and a shy, heart-shaped face framed by big doe eyes. We offered her our spare room, clothes, stability. "You're part of our family now," Elena told her, pulling her into a hug.
From day one, Aria was... different. She hated clothes. "They make me feel trapped," she whispered one evening, peeling off her borrowed t-shirt and shorts in the living room while Elena and I exchanged glances. She stood there naked, completely unashamed—her slim body on full display, the soft curve of her hips leading to a smooth, hairless pussy with delicate pink folds. The air carried her faint scent: clean skin mixed with a subtle, innocent floral shampoo.
At first, we humored her. "Whatever makes you comfortable, sweetie," Elena said, though I noticed my wife's eyes lingering on Aria's lithe form. I tried to be the responsible one, but seeing Aria pad around the house bare—her small ass cheeks jiggling slightly with each step, nipples hardening in the cool air—stirred something primal. My cock would twitch involuntarily, tenting my pants.
Aria noticed every time. Her eyes would light up, dropping to my crotch with desperate hunger. "You're hard," she'd murmur, voice soft and needy, kneeling in front of me without warning. The first time, in the kitchen, she reached for my zipper. "Let me help... please? It means you want me here."
I gently stopped her, heart racing, but the image haunted me: her pink tongue darting over her lips, eager to taste.
The tension built slowly, deliciously. Evenings on the couch became charged—Aria curling up naked between us, her warm skin brushing my thigh, Elena's hand resting possessively on my knee. We'd watch movies, but I'd feel Aria's gaze on my growing bulge, her little shifts pressing her bare pussy against the cushion, leaving faint wet spots from her arousal. The room would fill with unspoken heat: Elena's vanilla perfume mingling with Aria's fresh scent, the soft rustle of skin on fabric.
One night, things shifted. Elena and Aria decided to take a bath together—"girl time," Elena called it, winking at me. I heard giggles from the bathroom, water splashing, then low murmurs. Curiosity pulled me closer. The door was ajar, steam wafting out thick and humid, carrying the sweet aroma of lavender bubbles.
Inside, they were submerged in the large tub—Aria straddling Elena's lap, both naked and glistening. Water beaded on Aria's small tits, dripping from her stiff nipples. Elena's hands roamed Aria's back, tracing her spine down to cup her ass. Aria leaned in, whispering something that made Elena moan softly.
"We should do it together," Aria said clearly, her voice breathy. "Suck his cock. Show him how much we love him. That's how I'll feel like family... please?"
Elena's eyes met mine through the crack in the door—dark with lust, not shock. She nodded slowly. "Come in, honey."
My cock throbbed as I entered, stripping quickly. The steam enveloped me, warm and moist. They rose from the tub, water cascading down their bodies—Elena's full curves slick and inviting, Aria's slender frame trembling with need.
They knelt on the fluffy bath mat, side by side. Elena first, her experienced hand wrapping around my base, stroking slow and firm—velvet skin sliding over my veined length, thumb circling the sensitive head to spread sticky pre-cum. "We've missed this," she purred, leaning in to drag her tongue up my shaft, hot and wet, tasting the salt of my skin.
Aria watched intently, then joined—her smaller mouth tentative at first, soft lips brushing the tip before parting to take me in. Her tongue was eager, swirling clumsily but enthusiastically around the ridge, lapping at the slit. The contrast was electric: Elena's confident deep sucks, throat relaxing to swallow half my length with wet glucks, saliva dripping down my balls; Aria's innocent licks turning bolder, her delicate hand pumping what she couldn't yet take.
They took turns, then together—tongues meeting on either side of my cock, sliding up in unison, slick and warm. Strings of spit connected their lips as they kissed around my head, sharing the flavor. Aria moaned, her free hand slipping between her thighs to rub her swollen clit—puffy pink lips parting with audible wet schlicks, her juices coating her fingers and scenting the steamy air with musky sweetness.
"Fuck her mouth," Elena encouraged huskily, guiding Aria's head. I thrust gently, feeling her throat tighten, gagging softly but pushing forward—tears in her eyes from effort, but pure bliss on her face. Elena licked my balls, sucking them one by one, humming vibrations that shot up my spine.
I came hard, groaning as thick ropes erupted—Aria swallowing what she could, the rest spilling over her chin and onto Elena's waiting tongue. They kissed deeply, sharing my cum, snowy white strands mixing with their saliva.
But that was just the start. We moved to the bedroom, bodies still damp. Aria needed more to feel loved. "Everything," she begged, spreading her legs on our king bed. Her pussy was drenched—glistening folds open like a flower, clit peeking hard and pink.
Elena and I shared her slowly. I licked Aria first—tongue delving into her tight heat, tasting her tangy-sweet nectar, walls fluttering around me as she whimpered. Elena straddled Aria's face, grinding her soaked pussy down, full lips enveloping the girl's mouth. The room filled with wet slurps, muffled moans, the heady mix of their arousals.
Then I entered Aria—slow, inch by thick inch into her impossibly tight velvet grip. She gasped, nails digging into my back, legs wrapping around me. Elena watched, fingering herself before guiding us: "Deeper, baby... make her feel owned."
We switched endlessly—Aria riding me reverse, her small ass bouncing as Elena licked where we joined, tongue flicking my shaft and Aria's clit. Then Elena on all fours, me pounding her from behind while Aria sucked her swinging tits, pinching nipples until Elena squirted, hot clear fluid soaking the sheets.
Finally, together: me on my back, Aria impaled on my cock—walls clenching rhythmically—while Elena sat on my face, her creamy pussy grinding. They faced each other, kissing sloppily, hands roaming—pinching, slapping, rubbing clits in tandem.
We came in waves—Aria first, screaming as her pussy milked me, gushing over my balls. Elena followed, flooding my mouth with her release. I exploded deep inside Aria, pulse after pulse filling her until it leaked out around us.
Collapsing in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and spent, Aria nestled between us. "I feel it now," she whispered, kissing us both. "Family."
Elena smiled, pulling her closer. "And this is just the beginning."
Our bed was fuller, our love deeper—and the fire? It burned hotter than ever.
**End of Story**