Embracing Ellie: Chapter 29

The room swam. The sight of his Ellie’s familiar hand placed somewhere it should never be incensed him—but with the jealous rage came an exquisite pleasure. Almost a hurt. An ache. A longing. The longing was a desire for things to progress. To see the interaction between lovely Ellie and this good guy they met—to increase their arousal, to increase their lust. To explore. To experience. Not just for Ellie to enjoy Hemi, but for Hemi to partake of this exquisite human being Danny had known since they were young—had known for most of his life. Ellie had limited experience. He wanted to be with his wife and watch her discover something new. Not something. Pleasure. He wanted her to experience a pleasure of the most sacred kind. His own discoveries and pleasure were astounding during this treacherous and tense endeavor. His stomach ached; his ears heard sounds like he was held underwater; his heart pounded. And he was erect. Hard as could be. His wife’s hand handled another man’s endowment. And Hemi looked endowed. The cotton bulge was too much for Ellie’s hand. And the longer her hand stayed curved over that heft package, kneading, coddling—the bigger that package grew. The outline of Hemi’s penis grew obvious. Thickening, lengthening under Ellie’s handling. It was a large organ, that was for sure. Much more than Ellie’s husband had. He was sure Ellie liked that. But here was something: she hadn’t reacted. She hadn’t handled Hemi’s bulge and gasped at how what he had filled her grip. She hadn’t widened her eyes or tittered. Like she’d already handled it. Knew how big it was. This hit him the hardest. But the impact was strange delight, not a concussive whomp that sent him staggering back. If anything, he wanted to move closer, to tug Ellie’s pants down and get his cock inside her right now. She would be wet. Wet and ready. And eager. Driven to swollen horniness by another man. A man she found sexy.

But the experience faded. Ellie decelerated, letting her hand slide from the obvious huge cock-shape stretching out to the side and humping out the denim, sliding up to his belt and to his stomach. Over his shirt. The sound of their lips working together ceased, and Ellie returned to her heels, stepping back from Hemi, slinking away, sheepish and shy. God, her cheeks blazed pink. She looked incredible. Beautiful. Perfectly feminine. No makeup. Hair tangled and lank. Oof. He just realized how she looked. Fuckable. Super fuckable. A soft and warm woman with kind eyes and plump lips. A woman who wanted it, too. A woman who wanted a good fucking.

He said, “Why’d you stop?”

She looked at Hemi and then back at him. “Here in the kitchen?”

There was relief. She didn’t stop because she’d changed her mind. She just wasn’t comfortable. But the notion of changing venues was far down the list of things on his mind right now. Not with the hot desire burning a hole in his chest right now. He said, “Your hand looked familiar with what it was handling.”

Hemi snorted. Ellie’s expression flickered through a wide range. It started with offense and then ended up somewhere closer to amused. He smiled, raised his chin, looking for an answer, and wanting her to know there was no blame or jealousy or manipulation. He’d manipulated them all to get them to this moment, but now that they were here, he was kind of out of ideas. “This is your show now. Show me what you want to show me. Whatever way you want.”

Ellie raised her chin, too, showing him a similar smile, maybe one that was more devious than his own. She ran her nails down her throat in the manner of contemplation. Her face changed when she thought of something. She slid closer to Hemi, and he bowed his head so she could whisper something in his ear.

Hemi said, “Yeah-yeah, if you want to.”

Ellie crossed her arms and studied Danny now, looking him up and down. She said, “Did you pick that wine on purpose?”

He frowned. “What wine?”

“You know. The one you had in the room for us. The sparkling?”

“Yeah,” he said, at least knowing what she was talking about now. But then, not understanding what she was getting at: “I mean, I told them to put it in the cabin, but I . . . Why, what was wrong with it?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Sure, Danny. You have no idea.”

“I don’t,” he said, putting a hand on his chest as a display of pure honesty. “Was it bad? What was it?”

Ellie slunk away from Hemi and swiped Hemi’s phone from the counter. She passed it to Hemi, and Hemi opened it and passed it back. Ellie said, “You have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“I swear I don’t.”

She looked down at the screen, shook her head, came closer to him and handed him the phone. She said, “Read the label back to me.”

Danny took the phone and regarded the screen. Big black bottle of sparkling wine. A pale label with a silver frame, a font that was hard to—

An electric shock went through him. It all hit him at once. A certain wariness and humor and worry on Ellie’s face when she’d passed him the phone; the spots on her cheeks blushing deeper; a certain memory of Ellie’s prankster coworker who’d shown her a perverse picture that kicked off a lot of the lust that had them barreling down this path. His focus pulled back, sharp and fast, the whole image coming to him like a hard punch in the center of his chest. He whipped the phone out of his vision and looked up at the ceiling. Ellie tried to take the phone from his hand, but he pulled it back. He held it to his chest while he recuperated. Ellie stood, tentative, hands tucked into her sleeves, wrists crossed at her chest. She was worried. For her benefit, he chuckled, still recounting what it was he’d seen. He wasn’t ready to give the phone back because he hadn’t examined the image. He wanted to, but it would take some time to prepare himself.

“I thought it would be funny,” she said.

He smiled, still looking up at the ceiling, shaking his head now, showing her his best humor he could in this moment. He rubbed his hand down his face and shook his head like it was filled with cobwebs he needed cleared. After a long, deep inhale, he angled the phone at his chest and regarded it with caution, like he’d trapped a spider to his chest with it.

Sure enough, Ellie had caught her supposedly savvy husband with the same prank her coworker had done. For there, on the phone’s screen, was an image taken from Hemi’s POV. Down his hard, tanned belly, centering on a wine bottle propped in the crook where thigh met pelvis—and planted aside the black bottle, posed in comparison, was Hemi’s enormous erection. As long as the bottle and part of the neck, wide as the female thumb hooked across the base and levering it up into measure against the bottle. Ellie’s thumb. Ellie’s hand held the hugest cock Danny had ever seen. Could even imagine. It was of preposterous size in relation to Ellie’s elegant digit.

He snuffled something like a laugh and then sealed the phone against his chest, staring across the kitchen with wide eyes while Hemi and Ellie regarded him, trying to gauge his reaction. “Holy shit,” he whispered. They’d really done it. Done what he’d situated them to do. Done what he’d lured Hemi into doing. Done what he’d persuaded his sweet Ellie to engage in. 

He held the screen out and looked at the photo again. It was a strange feeling to look at what another man had. To perceive the size and shape of his endowment. To appreciate the plumpness and volume of his corpulent glans, to see the shade of his shaft, to become intimate with the color of his veins and the shine on his cockhead. 

He held the phone to his chest, hiding the image, and stared across the room again. His jaw was stiff. His cock was stiffer. His heart raced wildly once more. “That’s really something,” he said dumbly.

Ellie pried the phone from his hand and put it on the counter. She held his wrists and got her eyes into his field of vision. “Danny . . . ?”

He regarded her. She said, “What are you thinking?”

Now he smiled and snuffled a real laugh. “You got me,” he said. She asked him if he was okay, and he said, “Yeah. I got what I wanted.”

“Are you sure?”

He snuffled more honest laughter and bowed his head. When he raised upright again, he said, “Let’s move into the sitting room.” The fog was gone; the shock of seeing Hemi’s erect penis had subsided. He showed them he’d recovered with a wider smile and happier expression. Ellie rubbed his arms, unsure of his recovery. He assured her with a kiss. But it seemed like it didn’t convince her. She stared at him with concern and circumspection.

He said, “I feel woozy like you felt woozy when what’s-her-name showed you the wine bottle.”

Ellie smirked a little, more convinced now. “Genevieve,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head again, finding it impossible to stop thinking about what he’d just seen. The size of that cock! “Genevieve.”

Hemi stayed where he was, watching them, amused but still concerned . Respectful. He nodded toward Hemi, saying, “Don’t you think we should move to the sitting room?”

They filed out of the kitchen, heading to the sitting room where the light wavered in hot-tub turquoise on the walls. Ellie was ahead and Hemi behind. Hemi took Danny’s arm at the elbow. They stopped.

“You still good, mate?”

Danny assured the big guy, patting his bulky flannel shoulder. “All good.” Then added: “Let’s not make a thing out of it.” The photo walloped him with feelings. Bad feelings, but not bad because of what Ellie and Hemi had done together. It was the suddenness and vulgarity of the photo. But now that the shock was receding, he felt the urge to look at it one more time. He didn’t hate the photo. In fact, he loved it. He said, “But when you get a chance, you have to send me that picture.”

Hemi laughed and gripped the back of Danny’s neck and patted his back while they walked into the sitting room together, Ellie turned and awaiting them. She thumbed over her shoulder to the sliding glass doors. “I think we should get into the hot tub.”

Danny said, “Hemi didn’t want to get wet.”

“It’s all right, Danny,” Hemi said, walking past him to Ellie. “Whatever she wants.” He gripped the front of Ellie’s sweatshirt in a playful pinch, drawing her to follow him as he headed to the glass door and slid it open. Ellie stumbled along with him. They all gathered on the deck. The cold bit at his skin, and he shuddered, though his body still held the warmth from inside the cabin.

Ellie asked him if it was too cold, and he said, “I’ve still got a chill from riding out here on that damn snow machine.”

Hemi said, “It’s warm in the tub, yeah? We’re not going to strip down and mill about on the deck.” While he spoke, he tugged Ellie’s sweatshirt again, yanking her close to him. Ellie went along, giggling, going on to her toes. Hemi shimmied the sweatshirt up her body, and Ellie bit her lips. The sweatshirt went over her head, Hemi doing the work, but Ellie helping. When she was topless, she crossed her forearms over her chest and squashed her feminine bounty. The glee on her face soared his heart. This renewed everything he’d wanted from this experience. His wife was enamored of her role as a sexual toy. As a spectacle for two men. She was so beautiful, so fuckable, she was the most important person in the space. Her toplessness controlled the men, soaked up their attention. And what hit Danny with the brightest glare was the shine in her eyes. Happy, horny, sexual, playful. She was showing him the part of herself he’d been dying to see.