Tailor's Hands: Double Date Sparks Ignite Her Husband's Approval

Roxanne stood on the raised fitting platform in her lace bra and matching thong, the private back room of the atelier smelling of steamed wool, cedar, and the faint spice of expensive cologne. At forty-two she still had the high, full tits and the deep curve of waist-to-hip that made men stare, and tonight the fabric being pinned around her body seemed determined to advertise every inch. Her husband Dante, forty-five, sat in the leather chair opposite with his legs spread and a glass of the shop’s complimentary bourbon in hand, watching her with that half-lidded look she knew too well—the one that meant his cock was already twitching in his trousers and he was going to let whatever happened, happen.

Silas, the master tailor, thirty-eight and silver at the temples, circled her slowly with a mouthful of pins and measuring tape draped around his neck. His assistant—twenty-nine, dark-eyed, lean-hipped Luca—knelt to the side holding the dress form’s spare panels, openly staring at the way Roxanne’s ass filled the half-pinned sheath of black silk.

“Hold still for me, Mrs. Hale,” Silas murmured, voice low and rough as good scotch. His palms settled on her bare hips, thumbs pressing just above the thong strings. “This cut needs to cling. Anniversary dinner, yes? Your husband wants every man in the room hard the second you walk in.”

Roxanne’s breath caught. Dante’s mouth curved. “That’s exactly what I want,” he said. “Show her off properly.”

Silas’s hands did not move away. They smoothed down, shaping the silk against her skin, fingertips grazing the undersides of her cheeks. “Christ. Feel that, Luca. She’s solid muscle and soft meat at the same time.”

Luca rose, stepped in close enough that Roxanne smelled the clean soap on his throat. He ran both hands over the fabric stretched taut across her backside, openly cupping, squeezing. “Fuck, it fills the palm like it was poured. Look how the silk disappears into the crack. She’s going to wreck this dress just by breathing.”

Roxanne’s nipples peaked hard against the thin lace cups. She felt the cold air on them, felt Dante’s gaze lock there. Heat flooded between her legs; the thong was already damp.

“They’re right, baby,” Dante said, voice thick. “Your tits are begging already. Let them keep working.”

Silas chuckled, filthy and pleased. He slid the tape around her bust, the backs of his knuckles deliberately brushing her stiffened nipples through the lace. Once. Twice. On the third pass he lingered, rolling one peak lightly between knuckle and tape. “Sensitive. Good. The neckline dips low—these are going to be on display. May I?”

Roxanne glanced at her husband. Dante gave a slow nod, eyes dark with approval rather than jealousy. “Do it. She likes being handled.”

Silas peeled the lace cups down. Her heavy breasts spilled free, nipples tight and dark pink. He weighed them in his palms like a man checking fabric quality, thumbs circling the tips until they stood even harder. “Perfect. Full. They’ll bounce when she walks. Luca, pin the darts while I keep these out of the way.”

Luca’s hands returned to her hips, then lower, smoothing silk over the swell of her ass again, this time sliding one finger deliberately along the soaked groove of her thong. “She’s wet through already. Smell that?” He leaned in, nose nearly against the base of her spine, and inhaled. “Fucking ripe. Master, these hips are going to split the seams if we don’t leave room to breathe—or room to get fucked in it later.”

Roxanne moaned, soft and helpless. Dante shifted in his chair, openly adjusting the thick ridge of his cock. “Talk to her like that. She gets off on it. Tell my wife what you want to do to that ass while you’re fitting her.”

Silas pinched both nipples, rolling them, stretching them. “I want to bend her over the cutting table, keep the dress half-on, and bury my cock in that tight married cunt while Luca works the other hole. She’ll leave here with two loads dripping down her thighs and a perfect anniversary dress that still smells like us.”

Luca’s fingers hooked the thong aside. Cool air kissed her slick folds. Two of his fingers slid through her wetness, slow, coating themselves, then pushed shallowly into her pussy. “Soaked. She’s gripping already. Dante—you good with us opening her up a little while we finish the hem?”

Dante’s voice was pure gravel. “I’m better than good. Finger-fuck my wife. Make her drip on the platform. Roxanne, baby, you want that?”

“Yes,” she whispered, hips already pushing back onto Luca’s fingers. “God, yes. Don’t stop.”

Silas kept her tits captive, kneading, occasionally leaning down to suck one nipple deep while Luca worked a third finger into her cunt and scissored. The wet sounds filled the quiet room. Roxanne’s thighs trembled. Silk whispered against her skin with every tiny rock of her hips. Luca’s thumb found her clit and rubbed tight circles while his fingers curled inside her.

“Listen to that greedy hole,” Luca said. “She’s going to take both of us later. Look at how she opens.” He pulled his fingers free, shiny to the knuckle, and held them up for Dante to see. Then he wiped them slowly across Roxanne’s own lower lip. She licked without being told.

Silas released one breast only long enough to yank the rest of the silk higher up her thighs, baring everything from waist to knee. He spanked one cheek hard enough to bloom pink. “Ass like this was made for double use. Dante, you ever watched two cocks stretch your wife at once?”

“Not yet,” Dante answered, eyes locked on the way Luca’s spit-slick fingers pushed back into her pussy while Silas’s free hand parted her cheeks and pressed a dry thumb against her tight rear hole. “But tonight’s the night she gets fitted properly. Keep going. I want her shaking before you even get your dicks out.”

Roxanne’s head fell back. Silas’s thumb popped past the ring of muscle—just the tip—while Luca fucked three fingers deep and steady. The dual pressure made her knees buckle; Silas caught her with an arm around her waist, still mauling her tits, still talking filth against her ear.

“That’s it. Open for us. Your husband’s watching you take it like the hotwife he trained. We’re going to ruin this pretty cunt and this tighter ass, pin the dress while you’re still stuffed full, and send you to dinner leaking. You want that, don’t you?”

“I want it,” she gasped. “Both of you. Dante—please—”

“I know, baby.” Dante stood, walked close enough that she could see the dark wet spot already forming on his trousers where the head of his cock leaked. He cupped her face, thumb stroking her mouth. “They’re going to bend you over that table next. You’re going to thank them while they split you open. And I’m going to sit right here and stroke my cock watching my wife get used by the men who just measured her for her anniversary dress. You ready for Act Two of this fitting?”

Silas’s thumb pushed deeper into her ass. Luca’s fingers curled hard against the spot that made her see white. Roxanne’s orgasm built like a wave she couldn’t stop—right on the edge, body clenching, nipples diamond-hard under Silas’s twisting fingers, ass and cunt both stuffed and dripping onto the polished wood of the platform.

But Silas eased off at the last second. Luca pulled his fingers free with a filthy wet sound. Both men stepped back just far enough that the cold air hit every exposed, throbbing inch of her.

“Not yet,” Silas said, voice rough with his own restraint. He wiped his thumb across her lower back, leaving a glossy streak. “We still have the hem. And the real fitting comes when this dress is on and you’re bent the way your husband wants. Luca—get the lube from the drawer and the wider pins. Mrs. Hale is going to need room to take cock while we finish.”

Dante returned to his chair, eyes blazing with pure approval, hand already free and wrapped around the thick length he’d pulled out. “Do it. Make my wife ready. I want to hear her beg for both of you before the next pin goes in.”

Roxanne stood there trembling, tits bare, thong ruined and shoved aside, silk dress half-hanging off her sweat-slick body, holes aching and empty again. The two tailors looked at her like fabric they fully intended to destroy and remake. Her husband’s fist stroked slow and steady in open view.

The real work hadn’t even started.

Roxanne’s thighs still quivered from the denied climax, cunt fluttering empty around nothing while the silk dress clung damp to her hips. Luca returned from the drawer with a sleek bottle of lube and a handful of wider pins, the metal catching the low light. Silas took the bottle without looking away from her bare tits, still marked faintly by his fingers.

“Need a man’s touch on this body,” Roxanne said, voice husky and playful even as her pulse hammered. She rolled her shoulders so her heavy breasts swayed, nipples still stiff and dark. “These measurements won’t settle right unless someone who knows how to handle a woman finishes the job. My husband’s hands are good, but two pairs of tailor hands… that’s what this dress needs. What I need.”

Dante’s fist slowed on his thick cock, precome beading at the slit. “Listen to her. She knows what she’s asking for.”

Silas uncapped the lube and poured a glossy stream over his fingers. “Then bend for us, Mrs. Hale. Show us the hem that needs adjusting.”

She did it deliberately—slow, arching, planting her palms on the edge of the cutting table just beyond the platform so her ass pushed out high and open. The half-pinned silk rode up her back; the ruined thong stayed shoved aside, leaving her slick pussy and tight pink asshole fully exposed under the atelier lights. The scent of her arousal mixed with cedar and steam. She looked back over her shoulder, lashes low, and caught Dante’s gaze first, then both tailors’.

“Like this? Is this the angle you need to get the length right?”

Victor—Silas—dropped to his knees behind her without another word. His big hands gripped her cheeks and spread them wider. Cool air kissed her dripping folds. “Hem’s uneven,” he muttered, rough and filthy. “Needs a closer look.” He leaned in and dragged his tongue in one long, wet stripe up her inner thigh, starting above the knee and stopping just short of her cunt. He did it again on the other side, slower, tasting the sweat and juices that had run down. Roxanne’s breath punched out of her. His tongue flicked higher, circling the crease where thigh met pussy, lapping the slick that coated her skin.

Luca stepped in behind her upper body, chest against her back. His lean hands came around and cupped both bare breasts from behind, palms full of soft heavy weight, fingers already rolling her nipples. He pinched, tugged, then pressed her tits together so the nipples nearly touched. “Fuck, these fill my hands better than any bolt of cloth. Soft and hot. Feel how they spill over.” He squeezed harder, thumbs flicking the peaks in time with Silas’s tongue working higher. “Master’s tasting you. You’re dripping down his chin already.”

Roxanne locked eyes with Dante across the small room. Her husband had his cock fully out now, thick and veined, fist stroking steady through the open fly of his trousers. His eyes never left the place where Silas’s mouth worked between her spread thighs. She mouthed please without sound, then spoke it low and clear.

“Dante… they’re touching me like they own the fitting.”

“They do tonight,” Dante answered, voice pure gravel. He stroked faster, openly, thumb swiping the wet head on each upstroke. “Silas. Luca. You have my full permission. Use my wife however you want. Finger her, tongue her, stretch both holes, fuck her right here on the platform or over that table—I don’t care. She’s yours to measure and ruin while I watch. Make her take it. Make her thank you. She’s a hotwife who needs two cocks tonight and I’m hard as fuck watching you give them to her.”

Silas’s tongue finally reached her cunt. He licked a broad flat stroke from clit to hole, then pushed inside, fucking her with it while his nose pressed her ass. The wet sounds filled the room. Luca kept mauling her tits from behind, pinching harder now, rolling the nipples until she gasped and pushed back onto Silas’s face. “That’s it,” Luca murmured against her ear. “Grind on his tongue. Your husband’s cock is leaking for it. We’re going to open you properly.”

Silas pulled back just long enough to pour lube directly onto her asshole. The cool gel dripped down over her pussy. He pushed two slick fingers straight into her cunt—no teasing—while his thumb circled her rear hole and pressed. “Tight married pussy. Gripping already. Luca, keep those tits out where Dante can see them bounce.”

Luca obeyed, lifting her breasts higher, offering them, then leaning around to suck one nipple deep into his mouth while his free hand stayed busy on the other. Teeth grazed. He sucked hard enough that she felt it in her clit. Silas added a third finger in her cunt and pushed his thumb into her ass at the same time. The dual stretch made her moan loud and broken. She rocked between them—ass pushing back onto Silas’s hand, chest pressing into Luca’s mouth and palms.

“Look at her take it,” Dante said, stroking openly now, free hand cupping his balls. “Two fingers in the back soon. Then cocks. Roxanne, tell them what you want.”

“I want both of you,” she gasped, staring at her husband’s fist working his cock. “Want Silas’s tongue back on my clit while Luca plays with my tits. Want them to bend me further. Want the dress pinned while I’m full. Please—Dante said you can use me however. Use me.”

Silas withdrew his fingers, shiny and dripping, and stood. He spun her fully toward the cutting table and pressed her chest down onto the wood. Luca stayed with her, still cupping and pinching her dangling breasts from the side now so Dante had a perfect view of the heavy swing. Silas shoved the silk higher up her back, baring everything, then dropped to his knees again. He buried his face between her thighs from behind and ate her like he was starving—tongue spearing her cunt, lips sealed around her clit, sucking hard while two fresh lubed fingers worked into her asshole and scissored.

Roxanne cried out, palms flat on the table, ass high. Every wet thrust of Silas’s tongue and fingers sent fresh slick running down her thighs. Luca’s hands never left her tits; he stretched the nipples, slapped the undersides lightly so they bounced, then twisted just enough to make her buck. “Smell how wet she is,” Luca said to Dante. “Your wife’s cunt is pouring on the master’s tongue. We’re going to stretch both holes until she can’t close them. You still good?”

“Better than good,” Dante growled. He stood, walked closer, cock bobbing heavy and wet, and stopped right beside the table so Roxanne could see every stroke. “Lube her more. Get four fingers in that pussy if she’ll take it. I want her holes ready for two cocks at once. Roxanne, baby, you still with us? Still want them to use you?”

“Yes—fuck—yes. Don’t stop. Mark me with their hands. I need a man’s touch everywhere. Both of them.” Her voice cracked on the last word as Silas pushed a third finger into her ass alongside the two already working her open. The burn bloomed hot and perfect. She pushed back harder, fucking herself onto his hand while his tongue kept lashing her clit in tight circles.

Luca released one breast only long enough to grab the bottle and drizzle more lube down the crack of her ass. It ran over Silas’s knuckles and into her stretched ring. Then both of Luca’s hands returned, one still pinching and rolling a nipple, the other sliding down her belly to find her clit from the front and rub in time with Silas’s mouth. The dual assault on her clit—tongue from behind, fingers from front—made her thighs shake violently.

“She’s close again,” Luca said, voice thick. “Want us to let her come this time, Dante, or keep her edged until we’re both inside?”

Dante’s fist flew faster. Precome stretched in a string from his cockhead to the floor. “Edge her once more. Then put her on her back on that table, dress still half-pinned, and start filling her. I want to watch the first cock go in her married cunt while the second splits her ass. Full permission. Use my wife. Ruin the fitting and her holes. She’s begging for it.”

Silas pulled his mouth away with a filthy wet sound but left his fingers buried—three in her ass now, pumping slow and deep. Luca’s fingers stayed on her clit, circling but lighter, denying the peak. Roxanne whimpered, hips jerking, trying to chase the pressure.

“Not yet, Mrs. Hale,” Silas said, standing so his hard cock—still trapped in his trousers—pressed against her open, dripping cunt through the fabric. He rubbed the thick ridge along her slit while his fingers kept working her ass. “Hem’s almost right. But you’re going to take cock before the last pins go in. Luca—get the front of the dress open more. I want those tits free and swinging when we bend her properly.”

Luca peeled what remained of the bodice down so the silk framed her bare breasts like an offering. He slapped both nipples lightly, then pinched them again, hard enough to make her yelp and soak Silas’s fingers even more. “Ready when you are, Master. She’s open. Dripping. Husband’s watching and stroking. We’re going to double her right here.”

Roxanne turned her head on the table, cheek to wood, and found Dante’s eyes again. His cock looked painfully hard, fist slick. She licked her lips. “They’re going to fuck me now. Both of them. You said they could use me however they want.”

“I did. And I’m going to stand right here and watch every inch go in. Open wider for them, baby. Show the tailors how a hotwife takes her fitting.”

Silas finally freed his cock—thick, heavy, veined, the head already wet. He dragged it up and down her soaked cunt lips, notching it at her entrance while his fingers stayed buried in her ass, holding her open. Luca moved to the side of the table, cock out now too, leaner but just as hard, and rubbed the head across her nearest nipple, painting it with precome.

The real stretch was about to begin—cunt and ass both waiting, dress half-destroyed, husband stroking in open approval—but Silas only pushed the first thick inch into her pussy and held there, letting her feel the girth while Luca leaned down and fed the tip of his cock between her lips so she could taste him.

“Suck,” Luca ordered softly. “Get me wet for your ass. Your husband wants to see you spit-shine the cock that’s going in your back hole.”

Roxanne opened obediently, tongue swirling, hollowing her cheeks as Silas fed another inch into her cunt and his fingers scissored wider in her ass. The dual invasion—cock starting to fill her pussy, fingers still stretching her rear, second cock sliding over her tongue—made her moan around Luca’s length. Dante’s breathing grew harsh.

“That’s my girl. Take it. They’re just getting started.”

Silas bottomed out in one slow thrust, balls pressing her clit, fingers still knuckle-deep in her ass beside his cock. He held still, letting her flutter and adjust, then began to fuck in short deep strokes while Luca fucked her mouth in matching rhythm. The wet sounds of cunt and throat filled the atelier. Lube and her own juices dripped onto the platform. The silk whispered with every thrust.

They were using her exactly as promised—measuring her with cock now—and the next pins would go in while she was still stuffed full, but the double penetration proper, the moment both thick shafts stretched her at once, was only heartbeats away. Roxanne’s body opened greedily for it, eyes locked on her husband’s stroking fist, already craving the deeper ruin still to come.

Silas held deep inside her fluttering cunt, three fingers still buried knuckle-deep in her ass beside his thick shaft, while Luca fucked slow and shallow between her lips. Roxanne’s tongue worked overtime, tasting the clean salt of Luca’s precome, eyes locked on Dante’s fist pumping his cock just feet away. The silk dress hung in ruined folds around her waist, tits mashed to the cutting table, nipples scraping wood every time Silas rolled his hips.

Then Silas pulled free with a wet suck of sound, his cock gleaming with her juices. Luca slid out of her mouth at the same moment. Roxanne whimpered at the sudden emptiness, cunt and ass both clenching on nothing.

“Knees,” Dante ordered, voice raw. “Right there on the platform. Show them how my wife sucks cock when she’s already been opened.”

She dropped without hesitation, thighs sticky, the half-pinned black silk still clinging damp to her hips. The polished wood bit cool against her knees. Silas and Luca stepped in close, cocks bobbing heavy and wet right in front of her face—Silas thicker, veined, still shiny from her pussy; Luca longer, darker, slick with her spit. Dante moved in so his own cock hovered inches from her cheek, fist working slow.

“Alternate,” Dante directed. “One then the other. Make it filthy. Gag on them. I want to hear it.”

Roxanne grabbed the base of Silas’s cock first, stretched her lips wide and sank down until the fat head punched the back of her throat. She gagged hard, spit flooding out around the shaft and dripping onto her bare tits. She pulled off with a wet gasp, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his cockhead, then immediately swung to Luca. She took him deeper, faster, throat convulsing, eyes watering as she forced herself all the way to his base. His balls pressed her chin. She held, gagged again, then popped off and went right back to Silas, sucking loudly, messily, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling under the head before she plunged again.

“Fucking look at her,” Luca groaned, hand fisting her hair. “Married throat taking it like a whore.”

“Deeper,” Dante growled, stroking faster, the head of his cock brushing her temple. “Choke on Silas. Then spit on Luca’s balls and suck them clean. That’s it, baby—use that mouth.”

She obeyed, slamming herself onto Silas until her nose mashed his pubic hair and thick spit poured down her chin onto her swinging breasts. She pulled off coughing, ropes of saliva swinging, then ducked lower and spit a thick wad directly onto Luca’s tight sac before sucking one ball into her mouth, then the other, humming while her hand jacked both cocks in turn. The wet, filthy sounds filled the atelier—gags, sloppy sucks, the wet slap of her fist. Her cunt dripped steadily onto the platform between her knees. Every time she glanced up, Dante’s eyes were black with heat, fist flying, precome leaking in clear strings toward her face.

“Enough,” Silas rasped. He hauled her up by the hair, spun her, and bent her hard over the edge of the fitting platform so her tits hung free and her ass presented high. The silk bunched at her waist. He kicked her feet wider. “Pussy’s soaked. Time to wreck it properly.”

He slammed home in one brutal thrust, burying every thick inch in her cunt. Roxanne screamed into the wood, pleasure punching through her. Silas set a punishing rhythm immediately—hips cracking against her ass, balls slapping her clit, the wet smack of skin on skin loud and constant. Each stroke dragged her forward; her heavy tits swung and bounced under her.

Luca stepped in front, cock still shiny with her spit, and fed it straight back into her open mouth. He fucked her throat in time with Silas’s pounding, hands locked in her hair, using her face. Every time Silas drove deep, she was forced farther onto Luca. Spit frothed at the corners of her lips and ran down Luca’s shaft.

“Take it,” Dante snarled, now standing right beside her head, cock inches from her cheek, fist a blur. “Tell them how it feels. Louder.”

“Fuck—yes—pound my married cunt,” Roxanne gasped around Luca’s cock whenever he pulled back enough to let her speak. “Stretch it. Use me. Dante’s watching you destroy his wife’s holes—fuck me harder, both of you—gag me on it while you wreck this pussy—”

Silas reached under, pinched her clit hard between two fingers and kept slamming. Her orgasm ripped through without warning—cunt clamping, juices squirting around his driving cock, thighs shaking so hard the platform creaked. She screamed filthy encouragement around the cock in her throat, drool pouring.

They didn’t stop. Silas pulled out of her pussy, still rock-hard, and pressed the slick head to her asshole. Luca stayed buried in her mouth. Silas pushed slow but relentless, the fat head popping past the tight ring. Roxanne’s eyes flew wide; she moaned long and broken around Luca as inch after inch of thick tailor cock stretched her ass open. When Silas bottomed out he stayed still only a second, then started fucking her ass in deep, grinding strokes while Luca resumed throat-fucking her.

“Spit-roast the hotwife,” Dante ordered, voice thick, cockhead now brushing her spit-slick cheek with every stroke of his fist. “Switch. Take turns. I want both holes used.”

They did. Silas yanked free of her ass, stepped aside, and Luca pulled out of her mouth, moved behind, and drove straight into her dripping cunt. At the same moment Silas fed his ass-slick cock between her lips so she tasted herself. Luca pounded her pussy doggy-style hard and fast; Silas fucked her face. Then they switched again—Luca into her stretched ass, Silas back into her cunt—double-penetrating her in alternating spit-roast until both holes were gaping and shiny, her screams pure filthy encouragement.

“Yes—fuck my ass, fuck my cunt, fill the hotwife—Dante look how they stretch me—use both holes, take turns, ruin me—I’m your whore tonight, give it to me harder—”

Dante’s fist flew inches from her face, the wet head of his cock almost touching her lips every time she turned her head to scream. Precome painted her cheek. Silas and Luca kept trading places—pussy, ass, mouth, over and over—until Roxanne was a trembling, drooling, begging mess of stretched holes and bouncing tits, the ruined silk dress hanging off her like a trophy. The dual stretch of thick cocks taking turns left her screaming for more, body greedy, eyes locked on her husband’s stroking cock so close she could have licked the head if he pushed forward another inch.

Silas buried himself to the balls in her ass one more time, Luca slamming her cunt from the other angle in a true moment of double penetration that made her vision white out, both men grunting, cocks throbbing inside her simultaneously while Dante jerked faster, ready, the air thick with the scent of sex and the wet slap of three men using one willing, screaming hotwife on the fitting platform. The next pins would have to wait; the real measuring was still only halfway done.

Silas and Luca stayed buried to the root, cocks throbbing side by side inside Roxanne’s stretched holes, the thin wall of flesh between them crushed flat under the double weight. Her cunt and ass clenched in helpless ripples around the invading shafts while Dante’s fist flew over his own leaking cock just inches from her spit-slick cheek. The fitting platform creaked under the three of them. Silk scratched her belly. Cedar and sex hung thick in the air.

“Hold her open,” Silas growled, hips grinding in short filthy circles so his balls mashed against Luca’s. “Feel that married cunt gripping us both? She’s fucking milking it.”

Luca answered with a hard thrust that shoved her forward onto Silas’s chest. “Ass is even tighter. Hotwife hole squeezing like it wants every drop. Dante—watch your wife’s holes take us to the hilt.”

Roxanne’s mind blanked white with pure greedy need. Forty-two years old and still this fucking greedy, still dripping down two strangers’ cocks while her husband stroked himself raw watching. She pushed back harder, forcing them deeper, tits swinging heavy and marked under the atelier lights. “Fill me—both of you—dump it in the hotwife. I want it leaking out while Dante watches. Stretch me, breed these holes, ruin the fucking dress with your cum—”

Silas reached under, pinched her clit between rough fingers and rubbed in tight vicious circles timed to every thrust. Luca’s hands locked on her hips hard enough to bruise, yanking her back onto both cocks at once. The dual stretch burned perfect and filthy; every nerve ending screamed full. Her orgasm detonated without warning—cunt locking down, ass fluttering, a fresh gush of slick squirting around Luca’s driving shaft and running down both sets of balls. She screamed raw against the wood, body thrashing, holes spasming milking pulls that dragged the men right to the edge with her.

“Fuck—she’s coming on us,” Luca snarled, rhythm turning savage. “Greedy married pussy and ass sucking the cum out. Dante, she’s begging for loads.”

“Give them to her,” Dante ordered, voice shredded, cockhead purple and dripping clear strings onto the platform beside her face. “Flood my wife. Both holes. I want to see it pour out when you pull free.”

Silas slammed home one final time, buried to the balls in her ass, and erupted. Thick hot ropes blasted deep, pulse after pulse painting her guts white. He ground through it, grunting filthy praise—“Take it, take every fucking drop in that tight hotwife ass”—while his cock kept jerking and pumping. The heat flooded her, overflowing already around his shaft. Luca followed two thrusts later, slamming balls-deep into her cunt and unloading hard. Jet after heavy jet flooded her pussy, mixing with her own juices, the pressure so intense she felt it push against Silas’s cock still buried next door. Both men stayed locked inside, cocks twitching, dumping everything they had while Roxanne’s holes milked them dry in long greedy spasms.

They pulled free together with wet obscene pops. Cum immediately welled out—thick white cream from her gaping cunt, more from her stretched pink asshole—running in twin filthy rivulets down her inner thighs, dripping onto the polished wood in fat wet splats. Her holes stayed open, twitching, leaking steady streams. The half-pinned black silk clung damp and ruined around her waist, streaked with lube and juices.

Roxanne’s legs gave out. She slid off the platform onto her knees, body still shaking, tits heaving, face shiny with spit and tears of pure overload. Cum kept pouring out of both holes, coating her thighs in glossy white. She crawled the short distance to Dante on hands and knees, leaving a shiny trail across the floor. His cock jutted hard and untouched right in front of her face, fist still wrapped around it. She rose just enough to take the head between her lips, tasted the clean salt of his precome, then pulled off and kissed him deep and filthy. Her tongue pushed into his mouth still coated with the mixed flavors of Silas and Luca—their cum, her juices, the musky taste of her own ass. She shared every drop, moaning into the kiss while more of their loads slid down her thighs.

When she broke the kiss she stayed close, lips brushing his, voice raw and wrecked. “Thank you for letting me be your perfect hotwife. Thank you for watching them stretch me and fill me. I’m dripping their cum down my legs because you said yes. I’m yours—used, leaking, and fucking grateful.”

Dante’s free hand fisted her hair, holding her there while he finally let go. He painted her lips and tongue with his own thick release in long hot spurts, forcing her to swallow most of it before the rest coated her chin and dripped onto her swinging tits. She licked him clean, humming, then sat back on her heels so he could see the full mess: both tailor loads still oozing from her well-fucked holes, his cum shining on her face and chest, the ruined anniversary dress hanging off her like a cum rag.

Silas and Luca tucked themselves away slowly, still breathing hard, eyes locked on the river of mixed seed running down her thighs. Silas pulled out his phone. “Numbers. Now. We’re scheduling regular fittings—weekly if she can take it. Bring her back in that dress half-pinned again. Next time we leave her gaping overnight.”

Luca already had his contacts open. “Double the lube. Triple the pins. I want her walking out with both holes stretched and leaking every fucking time. Dante—you in?”

Dante thumbed his number over without hesitation, cock still half-hard and wet. “Every week. She’ll wear whatever you pin on her and nothing underneath. Make the next visit filthier. I want videos of the stretch if she’ll let you. Full permission forever.”

Roxanne stood on shaky legs, the combined loads of three men now pouring freely down both thighs in thick white streaks that reached her knees. She scooped two fingers through the mess leaking from her cunt, tasted it, then pushed the same fingers into her still-open ass and scooped more. She smeared the mix across her nipples while the two tailors watched and typed. Already her mind raced ahead—next time longer plugs left in during the pinning, next time them trading holes without pulling out, next time Dante fucking her throat while they double-stuffed her over the cutting table until she blacked out dripping. The silk stuck to the cum on her skin. Her holes ached empty and used. She smiled, filthy and already hungry again.

“Book it,” she said, voice low and wrecked. “I want both your cocks splitting me open every week until this dress is nothing but cum stains and stretched seams. Fill these married holes raw and send me home leaking down my legs for my husband to lick clean. Next fitting starts with me on my back, legs spread, and both of you unloading before the first pin even goes in.”