Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

“That was a lovely dinner,” said Mark in acknowledgment of the roasted lamb chops which were still making their way down his digestive tract. “And I’ll tell you what’s better, this fucking cheesecake.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

He acknowledged the dessert laid out on the table in front of him which he chopped up in large chunks with his cutlery and shoving in his mouth with gusto, spoon after spoon, not caring much for the unchewed portion in his mouth before he introduced another spoonful.

The entire table roared to life with laughter at his sheer gumption to clear out his plate first like he was at a county fair, trying to win some stuffed animal which was determined by how many cookies and pancakes you could stuff in your face in under a minute.

“Oh God, slow down honey, you’re going to make our generous neighbors think I don’t feed you enough or at all,” said Rita to her husband.

She was slightly gobsmacked he wasn’t trying to hide his ravaging appetite tonight. The occupants at the table roared to life again with laughter like everyone was on some cue to burst into short laughs at the same time.

“Please let him be. I mean look at the size of him, he’s a man mountain!” said Jordan with a mouthful of cheesecake himself. “I wish I was half his size, I’d move the fridge to my room.”

Again, everybody broke off into short, momentary bursts of laughter, while Mark, now clearing out the last crumbs of cheesecake on his plate, nodded with a slight grin in affirmation of Jordan’s remark about him.

He took one quick glance at everybody at the table from his wife, to Jordan and Sandy, the couple who had been good neighbors to him and his wife since they moved to the neighborhood from Georgia almost a year ago now. He didn’t know if the unfolding events of the evening were that hilarious or if everybody at the table already exceeded their alcohol limit for the night. Nevertheless, he held out his champagne flute to Rita.

“More wine, Honey…, please?” said Mark with a big smirk. His table manners were definitely out the window.

“Of course you big alcoholic brown bear,” Rita replied, filling up his flute from the wine bottle, which she happened to be the custodian of this very fine evening.

“Hahaha, I can’t with you two,” said Sandy as she got up and began clearing the table. Jordan got up to assist her, but she insisted that he stayed put to keep their visitors company at the table.

Besides she wasn’t going to do the dishes now.

“Just gonna dump them in the sink and get back with y’all,” she said as she started towards the kitchen with an ironically neat stack of all the utensils that had been at different angles of the table a second earlier.

“Okay girl,” replied Rita as she hugged the bottle, resting her chin on her hand and putting her elbows on the table.

“You got that group invite I sent you?” asked Jordan as he turned to Mark.

“What group?” asked Rita as she cut in, looking at Jordan menacingly. “And why didn’t I get an invite?”

“HAHA, relax sweetheart. When your husband checks it out, he can forward you an invite too. It’s one at a time.”

“So much for chivalry!” Rita puffed.

Jordan chuckled. “So..?” he asked Mark again who had been a spectator to the mini back and forth he just had with his wife.

“Uh oh, what group invite?” Mark retorted, seemingly lost as he stifled a loud belch with the crease of his elbows and dug into his pockets for his phone. Jordan was silent now, regarding Mark as he pulled out his cellphone and squinted at the screen.

“Did I miss anything?” Sandy said as she walked back into the living room with another unopened bottle of wine clutched to her chest as she smiled and sat down.

“Neighborhood swing,” replied Mark almost instantaneously, still staring at his cellphone, trying to decipher what he was looking at. “What’s this Jordan?

An online group for donations to fix the toys at the neighborhood park?”

Jordan and Sandy burst out laughing hard this time, followed by Rita, who barely had any idea what was going on, but was visibly amused by her hubby’s rhetorical question to Jordan.

Mark added as the laughter died off, “Well I say fuck em if that’s the case. None of us here got any kids to worry about.”

Which was true as though both couples, regardless of their ages which ranged from late 30s to their mid 40s, simply ignored and left unchecked, the make-mini humans-you-have-to-look-out-for-your-entire-life part of their respective prenups.

A decision which seemed to draw both couples closer to each other than they were to any other couple in the neighborhood, or so they thought.

“Just open it and see what it’s about big guy,” Sandy said to Mark, as she stood up and walked over to sit on Jordan’s lap, the fresh bottle of wine already opened in her hand.

Mark wondered when that had happened as she took a big gulp straight from the bottle and handed it to her husband while she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck and fixed her eyes on Mark.

“Okaaayy…, there seems to be an NDA,” said Mark, still scrolling through his phone.

“Okay now, hold up, Honey. Let’s see what that’s about?” Rita said to her husband as she pulled her chair close to him so they could read the contents of the six inch smartphone screen in Mark’s hand.

It took them two minutes to finish reading the pop up notification and when they were done, both couples, now sitting at opposite ends of the table, stared at each other, one in bewilderment of the other.

There was a momentary silence, followed by the hoarse sound of Mark trying to clear his throat as he dropped his phone on the table.

“So, uhm, how long y’all been doing this?” he asked rather calmly.

“For a couple of years now, it’s our very own way of spicing up our relationship,” replied Sandy, “I mean don’t get me wrong, we don’t do it like everyday, and definitely not with just any random person or couple.

It’s just a one-time recreational activity we’re in love with. Isn’t that right honey?” she asked Jordan while staring into his eyes with a big grin on her face

As she sat on his lap, her hands traveled around the back of his head and around his face. “Absolutely my muse!” teased Jordan.

Mark looked over to his wife and Rita reiterated by giving him an anonymous shoulder shrug. She was never one to shy away from something new. As a matter of fact, she’d longed for something new to give a kick to their almost dead sexual life.

She had fantasies late at night that kept her cunt moist and burning with desire while her husband snored through the night, a couple of inches away from her.

He had been an excellent lover at the start of their relationship and throughout their courtship years, right until a few years after they got married, when the fire in him just seemed to go off, just like that.

He would hump her for a minute then pump her full with semen and drop like a bull, agonizingly eliminating any thoughts she had of going another round, talk less of riding on his mass of muscle all through the night into the sunrise as she used to a couple years back.

It had been a sexually frustrating couple of years for Rita, but that didn’t seem to change her love for her 6′ 3″ towering, well-built, baritone voice, mustache spotting lover. She stared at him most nights while running her fingers through the hills and valleys of his back muscles, triceps and biceps hoping one day he’d come back to her.

“So what happens when we click accept?” Rita asked before her husband could say anything else.

“Oh, I think you already know what happens my dear, you become a bonafide member of the club and get invited to house parties,” Jordan said with an air of sarcasm and seriousness at the same time, all the while smiling at them while his wife continued to slowly run her hands down his neck. “Here, have some liquid courage,” Jordan added, sliding the bottle of wine across the table to them.

Sandy chuckled and her eyes met Mark’s. She had already unbuttoned the first three buttons on Jordan’s checkered color shirt and was running her hands across his chest while staring at Mark and Rita. There was an expanding feel of sexual tension in the air so thick, any one of the occupants in the room could actually reach out and grab it.

“Fuck this!” Mark cursed. “It’s just a damn fraternity for married people.” Facing his wife with the bottle of wine in one hand, and the phone in the other, he was taken aback by how calm and calculating Rita still was.

“It’s on your phone baby, not mine,” Rita said to Mark with an air of wit as she slowly took the bottle from him and gunned a big gulp, while maintaining eye contact with her husband and half hoping he won’t bitch out of what was about to be a good time.

“There!” he said as he finally accepted the terms and conditions of the NDA and got admitted into the group. He dropped his phone on the table, arms spread wide from side to side and asked, “So what next?”

“Congratulations, enjoy your induction ceremony” was the message that popped up on his phone screen as he and Rita were immediately drawn to read it subconsciously.