It was just past noon when Jack heard the familiar sound of tires crunching up the gravel drive. He glanced up from his workbench, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. Another hot, still summer day in the woods. Shirtless as always, jeans riding low on his hips, boots scuffed with sawdust, Jack stepped outside.
He recognized the SUV before the door even opened.
Mara Langley. Mid-thirties. Blonde. Bright green eyes. Athletic, tight little body that didn’t match her housewife reputation. Jack had seen her a few times before—once when she dropped by for a custom end table, once when she pretended to be interested in cedar oil.
She always left flustered.
But this time… she wasn’t alone.
From the passenger side stepped Rick Langley, her husband. A clean-cut type—early 40s, broad shoulders, tucked-in polo shirt, conservative demeanor—but with a face that looked a little too tight with suspicion.
Jack raised a brow as they approached.
“Well now,” he drawled. “Didn’t expect visitors today. You two out for a stroll, or are you here for something… heavier?”
Mara was smiling nervously, cheeks flushed. Rick looked tense.
“We need to talk,” Rick said, eyes fixed on Jack.
Jack gestured to the porch. “Plenty of room out here. Or we can go inside if you prefer something… more private.”
Rick didn’t smile. Mara stayed quiet.
Inside the cabin, the air was thick with heat and cedar. Jack moved with that same slow, deliberate confidence, offering cold water, standing tall, his muscles rippling as he poured a glass. He didn’t bother putting on a shirt. He rarely did.
“So?” Jack asked, sitting back on a sturdy oak bench, legs spread wide. “What brings a married couple all the way out here on a Wednesday afternoon?”
Rick’s jaw flexed.
“She told me,” he said. “About what happened. Between you two.”
Mara’s breath caught. She looked away.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That right?”
Rick stepped forward, angry and confused. “You had no right—”
“She came to me,” Jack interrupted, calm as a lake. “And she came hard.”
Rick flushed. “You think this is a joke?”
Jack stood slowly. He was taller. Broader. Built like sin and soaked in heat.
“No,” he said, stepping close enough for Rick to smell the sweat, the musk, the raw manhood rolling off him. “I think she wanted something you weren’t giving her. And I gave it to her. Deep.”
Rick’s hands clenched at his sides. But he didn’t move. Jack saw the hesitation in his eyes. The confusion. The buried curiosity.
“You’re angry,” Jack murmured, voice low, intimate. “But you’re also staring at my chest like you want to touch it. You ever wonder what it’s like? To have someone like me take control? Make you feel things your wife can’t?”
Rick swallowed hard.
Mara sat on the edge of the couch now, eyes wide, breathing faster. Watching.
“I’m not—” Rick started, but his voice cracked.
Jack stepped even closer. So close their chests nearly touched. “You don’t have to be anything. Just open.”
And then—Jack kissed him.
At first Rick froze. But then—slowly, instinctively—his lips moved. Opened. Responded.
Jack’s hands gripped his sides, powerful, demanding. The kiss deepened—rough, masculine, filled with need. Rick moaned despite himself. His body melted into Jack’s. All the confusion and frustration turned to heat.
Mara gasped softly, eyes locked on the two of them. Her thighs pressed together. One hand slipped down into her sundress, fingers teasing her inner thigh as she watched her husband—her straight-laced, buttoned-up husband—being seduced by the man who once made her cry out.
Jack pulled back just enough to speak against Rick’s lips. “You like that?”
Rick’s breath shuddered. “Yes.”
Jack’s hand moved down, cupping the growing bulge in Rick’s pants. “You’ve been curious for a long time, haven’t you?”
Rick closed his eyes. “I don’t know…”
“You do now,” Jack said.
He turned Rick around, slowly, pushing him gently but firmly toward the edge of the heavy dining table. Jack stripped him fast—shirt first, revealing a broad chest and smooth skin. Then the belt. The pants. The boxers. Rick’s cock sprang free, hard and dripping with arousal.
Jack dropped to his knees behind him, running his hands along Rick’s strong legs, up over his ass, squeezing firmly. He spread the cheeks and leaned in, licking, teasing, wetting the tight ring of muscle until Rick was panting and gasping, knuckles white against the table’s edge.
Mara moaned from the couch, her dress pulled up now, fingers soaked as she rubbed herself in slow, steady circles.
“You’re watching your husband get his ass eaten by another man,” Jack said to her, voice thick and hungry. “How does that make you feel?”
She moaned louder. “So fucking wet.”
Jack stood and slicked his cock with spit, guiding it slowly to Rick’s entrance. “You ready for this?” he whispered in Rick’s ear.
Rick nodded. “Yes… please…”
Jack pushed in slow, letting him feel every inch. Rick gasped, tensed, then groaned as Jack filled him to the hilt.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Jack… oh my god…”
Jack fucked him deep. Hard. Dominant. Holding his hips. Biting his neck. Whispering praise and filthy encouragement in his ear.
Mara watched, her legs shaking, one hand on her breast, the other buried between her thighs. She was close. So close.
Jack reached around Rick’s front, stroking his cock in time with his thrusts, grunting, owning him completely.
“You feel that?” Jack growled. “That’s me claiming you. Your wife’s watching. She’s fucking herself watching you take my cock like a good boy.”
Rick moaned, head thrown back, body shaking.
“I’m gonna cum—fuck—Jack, I’m—”
“Do it,” Jack growled. “Shoot for her. Let her see what a real man does to you.”
Rick exploded, thick ropes spilling across the table, moaning Jack’s name. A second later, Jack slammed in deep and filled him, hot and pulsing, groaning against his back.
Mara cried out as she came, her fingers drenched, eyes wide, stunned and glowing.
The three of them collapsed together in a heap on the couch—Rick still panting, Mara curled against Jack’s chest, her hand stroking both men softly.
None of them said a word for a long while.
Then Rick finally spoke. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
Jack chuckled, pressing a kiss to his neck. “That was just the beginning.”
Mara smiled, eyes half-lidded. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”
Jack grinned, cock already hardening again. “Didn’t plan to.”
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