I stop telling him what happens, but he knows or can guess, and by the sound of his harsh breathing and the increasingly loud slide of skin rubbing against skin on his side of the line, that’s good enough for him.

We don’t need words for this next bit; their mingling moans are enough.

Besides, I can’t form any more words when Jourdan rubs her fingertips against my g-spot and bares her teeth so I can watch them scrape over my nipple. I let go of my thigh and cup the back of her neck, carefully sinking my fingers into her hair, pulling her mouth back to my breasts.

And then I start riding her fingers, the way I’ve ridden Darren’s fingers, mouth, and dick in this room so many times before.

Jourdan’s thumb moves over my clit, and I cry out.

Darren groans in one long sigh. I know the sound of my man coming.

I push Jourdan away from my breasts and crush my mouth against hers. I start grinding my pussy wildly against her palm. She pinches my lips so hard that I cry out. She bites my bottom lip.

I squirt into her palm, shaking violently on top of her.

She digs her fingers into me, filling me up as best she can while grinding the heel of her hand against my clit. “You never told me she was a squirter, Darren,” Jourdan says while placing butterfly kisses over my lips.

“Thought you’d appreciate experiencing that for yourself,” he says with a tired sigh.

“God, you two are so much fun,” she says, pulling me to her for another kiss.

Darren listens to us, still huffing, trying to catch his breath.

This is the best hangover I’ve ever had.

aftercare

I send Jourdan into the downstairs bathroom, and she passes her clothes, wet with my release, through the door.

I feel terrible as I shove them into the washing machine, but my entire body is buzzing. I start the washer, lean against it, and close my eyes.

“Everything alright?”

I jump at the sound of her voice and turn to find her in just her underwear — a simple pair of black panties and a matching cotton bra — already nodding absentmindedly.

“You sure?”

“What was it like, jacking my husband off in the middle of the park?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t say it was the middle,” she says warily. “Are you jealous?”

“Curious.” She leans against the doorjamb, crossing her arms, and lifts her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. “Sometimes we talk about fooling around in public, but we never do. We’ve got the kids and our jobs.” I cringe. “Darren’s a teacher. We can’t risk it.”

She nods. “He was so nervous and cute, and then so fucking horny for a second I thought he was an entirely different man.”

My nipples harden, and I clutch the sides of my robe closed.