Homecoming Pleasure with Three Naked Wives

Trent had been counting the miles since the airport rental lot, shoulders locked from three weeks of client dinners and hotel pillows that never quite fit his neck. He was twenty-eight, and the only thing that had kept him sane on the flight home was the thought of the house at the end of this street and the three women who lived in it with him. His wives. All of them twenty-four, all of them impatient, all of them done waiting.

He barely had the car in park before the front door swung open.

Yolanda filled the doorway first, twenty-four, curls spilling over bare shoulders, skin warm honey in the porch light. She wore nothing. Not a robe, not a scrap of lace, just the smile she saved for nights she intended to ruin him. Valentina stepped out beside her, also twenty-four, black hair loose down her back, hips cocked, nipples already tight in the evening air. Bianca ducked under Yolanda's arm a second later, freckled and grinning, twenty-four and completely naked, one hand already reaching like she couldn't stand another inch of distance.

"There you are," Yolanda said.

They didn't wait for him to climb the steps. They came down and pressed in, three warm bodies against travel-stiff clothes, breasts soft against his chest and arms, thighs brushing his pants. Valentina kissed the corner of his mouth. Bianca palmed him through the fabric and made a pleased sound when she found him already thickening. Yolanda slid both hands under his jacket and held on, bare stomach flush to his belt.

"We have been walking around this house naked since noon," Valentina murmured against his jaw. "Thinking about getting you out of these clothes. Thinking about the bath. Thinking about your cock in our mouths and then in all of us. We agreed on every minute of it. You come home, we take care of you, and we don't stop until none of us can move."

Trent's laugh came out shaky. The sexual tension hit him all at once, low and hot, their skin everywhere he wanted it. "That's the welcome I was hoping for."

"Then get inside," Bianca said, tugging his belt, her nipple dragging his wrist. "Before I start on the porch."

They herded him through the door, bare feet on the wood, bodies still glued to his. The house smelled like soap and something rich kept warm in the kitchen. He dropped his bag. Yolanda's thigh rode up against his hip. Valentina turned to lock the door and her ass bumped him, deliberate. Bianca kissed him open-mouthed, tongue hot, moaning like she had been aching for hours. They had fantasized about this all day, and now that he was finally over the threshold, none of them intended to waste a second.

"Strip me," he said, voice rough. "I'm yours."

Three pairs of hands answered before the lock finished clicking. Valentina yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it. Yolanda knelt, undid his belt, and shoved his pants and boxers down in one pull. His cock sprang out, thick and wet at the tip, and Bianca wrapped her hand around it with a hungry little noise.

"Shoes," Yolanda said. They got those off too, until he stood naked in the entryway, three naked wives circling him, palms on his chest, his ass, the heavy hang of his balls.

"Bath. Now," Valentina said. "I want you clean before I put my mouth on you properly."

The tub was already full, the room steamy. They stepped in with him. Heat closed over his legs. Yolanda settled behind him, strong fingers finding the knots in his shoulders, thumbs digging in until he groaned and tipped his head back against her breasts.

"That's it," she murmured. "Let me have these shoulders."

Valentina and Bianca knelt in front of him, hands slick with soap. Valentina wrapped both palms around his cock and stroked, slow and slippery, twisting at the head. Bianca cupped his balls, rolling them, soaping every crease, her thumb stroking the sensitive skin behind them until his hips jerked.

"We promised we wouldn't rush this," Bianca said, soap shining on her wrists.

They didn't. Valentina pumped him in long wet strokes, grip firm. Bianca lifted and squeezed his balls just enough to drag a curse out of him, then soothed them with her thumbs. Yolanda's massage never stopped, nipples brushing his shoulder blades when she leaned in. He throbbed in Valentina's fist, cock dark and shining, balls drawn tight in Bianca's palms.

"Already trying to come in my hand," Valentina said.

"Not yet," Trent managed. "Dinner. Then bed. I want to last."

They rinsed him, warm water poured over his cock and balls until the soap was gone and he was clean and aching. Towels followed. Bianca lingered on his shaft until he caught her wrist.

"Table," he said. "Or I bend one of you over the sink."

"We cooked," Yolanda said, still working his shoulders as she steered him out. "Sit."

They put him naked at the head of the table, cock standing against his stomach. Yolanda stayed behind him, thumbs circling, keeping him loose. Valentina brought the plate—roasted chicken, potatoes, greens—and fed him the first bite from her fingers, licking sauce from her thumb.

Bianca slid under the cloth, knees on the rug, and took his cock into her mouth without warning.

His fork clattered.

"Eat," Valentina said, smiling, nipple brushing his arm as she offered another bite. "She has no patience left."

Under the table Bianca sucked him deep, cheeks hollowing, then dragged her tongue up the underside of his shaft in one long hungry stroke. She licked his balls, slow and thorough, mouthing each one, then sucked him down again and hummed. Yolanda kept massaging. Valentina kept feeding him, breast soft against his arm, while Bianca worked.

He tried to chew. Bianca's tongue circled the head, then licked from his balls to the tip, again and again, filthy and devoted. She took him to the back of her throat. His hips lifted. The food turned to nothing.

"I'm not going to finish this plate," he said.

"You don't have to," Yolanda murmured. "You're hard enough. Bedroom. We're ready to retire."

Bianca gave his balls one last slow lick and crawled out, lips swollen, chin wet. His cock stood rock-hard, pulsing, slick with spit. Valentina set the plate aside. All three of them looked at him like the night had just started.

"Come fuck us," Valentina said.

The bedroom lamps were low, the big bed turned down. They walked him in, and Yolanda climbed onto the mattress and lay back in the center, knees falling open, cunt already glistening.

"Me first," she said. "They can watch. They can touch. But I want you inside me."

Trent went to her. Valentina and Bianca knelt on either side, watching, already caressing. Valentina stroked Yolanda's breasts, thumbing a nipple until it peaked. Bianca spread Yolanda open, showing him how wet she was. He braced over her and pushed in, one long stroke, and the tight wet heat of her took him to the root.

"Fuck," Yolanda gasped, heels digging into his back. "Deep. Just like that."

He fucked her in deep missionary, slow for the first strokes so she could feel every inch, then harder, hips snapping, the head of his cock dragging over the spot that made her clutch his arms. She was so wet he slid easily, and every time he bottomed out she gasped his name like a prayer she had been saving. Valentina kissed Yolanda's open mouth, then kissed Trent, one hand never leaving Yolanda's breast. Bianca reached between them and rubbed Yolanda's clit in tight slick circles while he drove into her, coaxing her higher. Yolanda's legs locked around his waist. She met every thrust, breasts bouncing, voice breaking.

"Harder," she begged. "I've been empty for three weeks. Fill me. Don't you dare pull out."

He buried himself and ground deep, sweat on his chest, Bianca's fingers frantic on her clit, Valentina's mouth on her throat. Yolanda came with a sharp cry, cunt clenching in hard pulses that dragged his orgasm up from the base of his spine. He groaned her name and came inside her, thick spurts flooding her, hips jerking as he pumped every drop as deep as he could, held there until he was shaking.

He eased out. Cum welled and slid toward the sheets.

Valentina and Bianca were on him at once.

They pushed him onto his back. Valentina took his softening cock into her mouth and licked him clean, tongue sweeping his cum and Yolanda's slick from the shaft, sucking harder as he twitched. Bianca licked his balls, cleaning every trace, mouth warm, one hand stroking what Valentina couldn't fit. They traded. Bianca sucked the head, moaning at the taste, while Valentina lapped at his balls and the base, both of them filthy and devoted. Blood rushed back. His cock thickened, then filled Valentina's mouth, swelling until he was rock-hard again, shining with spit. Valentina pulled off, lips swollen, and stroked him once, slow, to be sure. Bianca kissed the inside of his thigh.

"Hard again," Bianca said. "Good. She's been waiting."

"On your knees," Trent told Valentina. "Ass up."

She turned, braced her forearms, back arched, and looked over her shoulder. "Then take it. Fuck me until I can't hold myself up."

He knelt behind her and drove in. She was soaking. The angle let him go deep, balls slapping her. She cried out and pushed back. He gripped her hips and pounded her from behind, the slap of skin loud, her ass rippling, his cock disappearing into her over and over. Yolanda, still leaking his cum, crawled close and kissed Valentina, one hand rubbing her clit in fast circles, caressing them both while she watched. Bianca pressed to Trent's side, kissing his shoulder, cupping his swinging balls each time he buried himself.

"Don't stop," Valentina panted. "Right there. Fuck me."

He fucked her harder, sweat on his chest, watching the wet clutch of her take him. Yolanda's fingers worked faster. Valentina's thighs shook. She came with a broken moan, squeezing him so tight he saw white, and he followed, burying deep and coming inside her in heavy pulses, grinding through it until he was spent and she was trembling, face in the sheets. He stayed buried a moment longer, feeling her flutter around him, cum already trying to leak past his cock. Yolanda kissed the small of Valentina's back and whispered that she had taken him so well.

When he pulled out, cum spilled down her thigh.

Yolanda and Bianca moved in again, no pause. Yolanda licked his cock clean, tongue tracing every vein, sucking the head until he hissed and his hand found her hair. Bianca cleaned his balls with long careful licks, then took his shaft while Yolanda stroked him with a firm hand and kissed the crease of his thigh. They worked him with mouths and fingers, patient and filthy, until his cock rose a third time, thick and aching, need fierce enough to make his breath catch.

Bianca straddled him. She lined him up and sank down in one smooth motion, cowgirl, taking him to the base, palms on his chest, a shaky moan leaving her as she settled.

"My turn," she said, already rolling her hips. "Watch me ride the last of it out of you."

She rode him hard, hips circling, then bouncing, cunt gripping him on every rise, the wet sound of her obscene and perfect. Yolanda sucked Bianca's nipple, tongue flicking. Valentina rubbed her clit, eyes on the place where his cock stretched her open. Bianca fucked herself on him, ass slapping his hips, moans climbing, hair stuck to her neck. Trent held her hips and thrust up when she came down, the third time still fierce enough to blur the edges of his vision.

"Come in me," she gasped. "Last one. Pump it deep."

He grabbed her harder and drove up to meet her. She came first, shaking, crying his name, cunt fluttering in hard waves, and the squeeze dragged his final load out of him. He pumped it into her in long helpless spurts, filling her while she ground down and took every drop, both of them shuddering, Yolanda and Valentina holding them through it, until Bianca collapsed onto his chest, still full of him, still trembling.

They stayed like that until she lifted off with a soft sound, his cum already leaking onto his stomach. She curled against his thigh. Yolanda tucked herself along his left side, sticky and smiling, his first load still slipping out of her. Valentina pressed in on his right, thighs wet, the mess of him warm between them.

The room smelled like sex and soap. Nobody reached for a towel. They wanted the mess, the weight of each other, the slow leak of him still warm. Hands petted lazily. Their bodies made a warm, sticky pile of limbs, mingled scents thick in the low light, his cum still slipping from each of them onto the sheets and onto each other.

Trent's eyes closed. Yolanda kissed his chest. Valentina's breath evened against his neck. Their breathing slowed together.

"Sleep," Valentina whispered. "We've got you."

They drifted, tangled and exhausted, peace settling over the bed. Trent was almost under when Bianca's voice found him, soft and smiling in the dark.

"Same thing tomorrow night, or do we have to wait until you leave and come home again?"