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The Concert

The bass was a physical presence in the low-lit concert hall, a palpable vibration that thrummed through the floor and up into Misty’s spine. She stood near the back, a glass of wine cool in her hand, letting the pulsating energy of the pre-show crowd wash over her. Across the room, Craig watched her, a possessive, proud glint in his blue eyes. He leaned against the bar, his muscular frame, adorned with intricate tattoos, seeming to dominate the space around him. The air was thick with anticipation, both for the band about to take the stage and for the unspoken game about to unfold.

Her gaze, however, kept drifting to the other man. Bradley. Craig’s friend. He was a mirror of Craig in many ways—equally tall, with the same rugged build and a beard that shadowed a strong jaw—but his energy was different. Where Craig’s confidence was a roaring fire, Bradley’s was a steady, radiant heat. Misty felt a flush creep up her neck as she caught him looking back, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. Craig had given her a look, a playful, challenging arch of an eyebrow, before deliberately turning his back to her, engaging someone else in conversation. The permission was implicit, the invitation clear.

Bradley moved through the crowd with an easy grace, stopping just close enough that she could smell the faint, clean scent of his cologne over the haze of sweat and perfume. "The opener's not bad," he said, his voice a low rumble that competed with the music. "But I have a feeling the main event is right here."

Misty’s shy smile was genuine, her brown eyes flicking down for a moment before meeting his again. "Is that so?"

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand finding the small of her back. The touch was electric, a claiming gesture that was both gentle and undeniable. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Craig's enjoying the view. I think we should give him a better one."

He guided her towards a slightly more secluded alcove, shielded from the main crowd by a heavy velvet curtain but with a clear sightline back to the bar where Craig stood, watching them with an intense, focused stare. Bradley turned her to face him, his hands settling on her hips. The music swelled, and he began to move with her, a slow, grinding rhythm that was far more intimate than the dancing happening around them. His gaze never left hers, a deep, challenging connection that made her breath catch. She could feel the hardness of his muscular body against hers, a promise of the strength he held in check.

His fingers traced the waistband of her jeans before expertly undoing the button and slowly pulling down the zipper. The sound was obscenely loud in her ears. He slid a warm, sure hand inside, underneath her panties, his palm pressing flat against her lower stomach. "Look at him," Bradley murmured, his thumb starting a slow, circular motion just above her pubic bone. "Watch him watch you."

Misty’s eyes locked with Craig’s across the room. His expression was a mixture of raw lust and profound approval. He took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze demanding she feel every sensation Bradley was eliciting. Bradley’s fingers dipped lower, parting her folds, finding her already slick and eager. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he began to stroke her, his touch masterful, alternating between gentle circles on her clit and shallow penetrations. It was exquisite torture, a public display of private pleasure that sent shivers of exhibitionistic thrill through her entire body. She could feel the eyes of strangers might be upon them, but all that mattered were the two pairs of eyes holding her captive—Bradley’s warm and commanding, Craig’s blazing with blue fire from across the hall.

The Private Screening Later, the three of them stumbled into the small, private cinema Craig had booked for the after-party. The air was cool and smelled of old velvet and disinfectant. The large screen was dark, waiting. Craig didn't bother with the lights. He guided Misty to the center of the room, his hands firm on her shoulders.

"On your knees," he said, his voice leaving no room for question.

She sank to the soft carpet, looking up at the two powerful men silhouetted against the dim emergency exit light. Bradley knelt behind her, his hands smoothing over her back, pushing her top up and unhooking her bra with practiced ease. Craig stood before her, unbuckling his belt. The thick length of his erection sprung free, and her mouth watered at the sight.

"Show him how you take me," Craig commanded.

Misty leaned forward, her shyness burned away by the intensity of the moment. She took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head before she began to slowly, deeply take more of him. The taste of him, musky and familiar, filled her senses. Behind her, Bradley was not idle. He had peeled her jeans and panties down her thighs, his hands spreading her apart. She moaned around Craig’s cock as she felt Bradley’s tongue replace his fingers, lapping at her with slow, deliberate strokes that mirrored the rhythm of her own mouth.

The dual sensations were overwhelming. Craig’s hands tangled in her hair, not forcing, but guiding, his hips making shallow thrusts as he watched her lavish attention on him. Bradley’s oral expertise was relentless, his tongue flicking and probing, bringing her to the very edge of climax before pulling back, a cruel and delicious form of edge play that had her trembling. The room was filled with the wet, hungry sounds of their shared pleasure.

"Switch," Craig growled after what felt like an eternity.

He pulled her to her feet and turned her around, bending her over one of the plush cinema seats. Bradley moved in front of her, and she eagerly took his cock into her mouth, her body humming with need. Craig positioned himself behind her. He didn't enter her immediately. Instead, he ran the tip of his considerable length through her slickness, teasing her, making her whimper against Bradley’s thigh.

When he finally pushed inside, it was with a single, deep, filling thrust that stole the air from her lungs. Her cry was muffled by Bradley’s flesh. Craig set a punishing, perfect rhythm, each stroke hitting a spot deep within her that made her see stars. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet theatre. Bradley watched it all, his expression one of avid fascination and pleasure, his fingers gently tracing her jawline as she serviced him.

They moved together in a synchronized dance of desire. Craig’s powerful thrusts, Bradley’s gentle caresses on her face, the feeling of being utterly filled and surrounded. Misty was the nexus of their attention, the shared object of their mutual adoration and lust. The darkness of the cinema became their universe, the only light coming from the reflected glow of their passion.

Craig’s pace intensified, his grunts growing louder. "I'm close," he gasped. "Look at me."

Misty turned her head, her eyes meeting his over her shoulder. The connection was electric, a visceral snap of energy as he drove into her one last time, his release shuddering through him. As his rhythm slowed, Bradley gently withdrew from her mouth.

"My turn," Bradley said, his voice thick. Craig, still buried inside her, held her hips steady.

The overstimulation was immense, pushing her past her breaking point. With a final, ragged cry, her own orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure so intense they blurred her vision. She felt Craig withdraw, and a moment later, Bradley was there, pumping into her with a few deep, frantic thrusts before he, too, found his release.

For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing, mingling in the dark. They stayed connected, a tangled, sweaty heap of spent passion on the floor of the cinema. Craig leaned down, kissing Misty’s shoulder. The concert was long over, but their main event was just beginning.

Chapter 14 Craig’s hands gripped Misty’s hips possessively as he moved directly behind her, his muscular frame pressing flush against her back. The heat of his skin seeped through her clothes, and she felt the hard length of his cock, already slick from her own arousal, pressing firmly against the cleft of her ass. He leaned in, his beard scratching her shoulder deliciously as his lips found her ear.

“Look at him,” Craig whispered, his voice a low, dominant hum that vibrated through her. “Watch Bradley while I claim what’s mine.”

Misty’s eyes fluttered open, locking with Bradley’s warm, intense gaze just inches away. His fingers traced the line of her jaw before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue swept against hers, tasting of shared wine and desire, while his hands slid down to cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they peaked into hard buds.

Craig shifted, his cock sliding lower, pressing insistently against her slick entrance without entering. “Tell him,” Craig murmured, his breath hot against her neck. “Tell Bradley who’s filling you.”

“It’s you Daddy,” Misty gasped against Bradley’s lips, her body trembling between the two men. “Craig… please fill my pussy Daddy.”

Bradley broke the kiss, his own breath ragged, and smiled down at her with dark, approving eyes. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let him take you.”

The dual sensation was overwhelming—Bradley’s skilled hands and mouth worshiping her from the front, Craig’s thick, hard presence promising possession from behind. She was the center of their shared focus, suspended in a perfect, breathless equilibrium of pleasure.

Chapter 14 Craig’s powerful thrusts grew frantic, his grip on her hips turning bruisingly possessive as he buried himself to the hilt. A raw, guttural groan tore from his throat as he came, flooding her pussy with pulse after thick, hot pulse of his release. Misty cried out, her own climax crashing over her at the sensation of being so completely claimed, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around his still-throbbing cock.

Slowly, Craig withdrew, a low sigh of satisfaction escaping him as he smoothed a hand over her trembling backside. Bradley, who had been watching with dark, hungry eyes, shifted closer. His voice was a honeyed rasp in the quiet room. "Let me feel her, Craig. Let me feel your wife's pussy pulsing with your hot cum dripping out of her."

Craig gave a low chuckle, pride evident in his tone. "Go on then. She's still shaking from it."

Bradley’s fingers replaced Craig’s on her skin, gentle but deliberate. He traced her slick, swollen folds, now glistening with Craig’s release. A soft, appreciative sound rumbled in his chest as he pressed two fingers inside, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm still rippling through her tight channel. "So warm," he murmured, his touch reverent. "So fucking full of you."

He withdrew his fingers, now slick with the evidence of their union, and held them up for Craig to see before bringing them to his own lips, tasting her and Craig together with a dark, satisfied smile. Misty moaned softly at the intimate act, her body still humming with pleasure as Bradley leaned in to kiss her shoulder, his beard scratching her skin.

"You're a very lucky man," Bradley said, his eyes locking with Craig’s over her spent form.

"The luckiest," Craig agreed, his hand coming to rest possessively on the small of her back. "But the night's not over yet."

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