It took us five and a half weeks on InfiniThree to find Jourdan’s profile. We’d connected with a few women before her, but something always seemed not quite right. Either I liked them more than Nadia did or vice versa. Or the conversation was stilted, and we never got past the chatting on the app stage of getting to know them. Or we got to know them and had to block them immediately.

But Jourdan was different. Talking to her was easy, even if a bit stressful, because we hadn’t expected any of this to be easy. Sure, we didn’t have much in common with her outright, but she was different — from us and most of the people in our lives — in ways we found fascinating. She talked about art and music and her dreams easily, and she was equally interested in both of us. At its core, Jourdan was the kind of woman we were looking for, even if before her, we couldn’t have defined exactly what that was.

“What if we fuck us up?” I whisper quietly to my wife. “What if we shake things up so much that we create the problems we were trying to prevent?”

Nadia squeezes her arms around me, as tight as she can get. “Baby, I love you, and if I thought this was going to ruin our relationship, I would shut it down immediately. And if we ever think it might, I will. But you should have seen yourself the day you met her,” she whispers against the back of my neck, her lips dragging along my skin and her tongue snaking out to taste me. Her hands flatten against my stomach, and she rubs soothing circles through my shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“When you got home, you had a little pep in your step. Or your tongue, I should say.” Her laughter is its own gentle kiss on my skin. “I hadn’t seen you like that in forever.”

Her palms move down over my shorts, and then she grabs the head of my dick and holds it firmly.

“Shit,” I hiss. My head falls back, my eyes slam shut, and I feel like lightning is shooting from my balls through my shaft.

“You ate me like you’d been thinking about my pussy all day,” Nadia whispers. She starts stroking me with both hands, slow and firm, just the way I like. “You had been, hadn’t you? Did you spend all day thinking about my pussy? Her pussy?”

“Both,” I groan. “She wanted to give me head. She told me to ask you.”

Nadia squeezes the head of my dick harder and laughs against my skin again.

I feel precome seep from the head when the pressure of her hold ebbs. My knees are week.

“Why haven’t you asked me then?”

I’m too busy panting to answer.