White & Black: S**x, Love and Scandal

A third 2

POV: Ethan

I stared at Lena like she’d grown a second head. My hand was still on her hip, her words hanging thick in the air between us. Inviting someone else into our bedroom. f**k. My brain short-circuited for a second.

“Lena…” I swallowed hard, my thumb brushing her lip without thinking. Her eyes were wide, a little nervous, but there was heat there too. Real heat. The kind I hadn’t seen in months. “You’re serious right now?”

She nodded, biting that plump lower lip the way she did when she was trying not to back down. God, she was beautiful. Twelve years and she still made my chest tight. “I am. I love you, Ethan. I don’t want to lose what we have. But I miss the way we used to… burn. Remember how we couldn’t keep our hands off each other? Lately it feels like we’re just… comfortable.”

Comfortable. The word hit like a punch. She wasn’t wrong. I pulled her closer on the couch, her thigh pressing against mine. My c**k twitched at the contact, already half-hard just from the conversation.

“I’m shocked,” I admitted, voice rough. “But… not mad. Keep talking.”

We stayed like that for a long minute, her fingers tracing circles on my chest while I tried to wrap my head around it. Then the words started spilling out. Fantasies. Things we’d both buried under routine and kids and work.

“I’ve thought about it before,” I confessed, the admission surprising even me. “Not seriously. Just… late at night when I couldn’t sleep. Picturing another set of hands on you. Someone watching me f**k you. Or you riding him while I kissed you.” My voice dropped lower. “It turned me on more than I wanted to admit.”

Lena’s breath hitched. Her cheeks flushed pink, but she didn’t pull away. “Me too. At girls’ night they were joking about it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Strong hands that aren’t yours. A new mouth. But only if it’s with you. Only if we do it together.”

We talked boundaries for what felt like hours. No feelings. No emotions. Purely physical. No one we knew too well—too risky. Protection always. And if either of us got uncomfortable, it stopped immediately. Safe word. Check-ins. The practical stuff helped calm the wild racing of my pulse, but the idea was already sinking its teeth in deep.

We started throwing out names. Coworkers. That guy from the gym. The bartender at our favorite spot who always flirted with her. Every suggestion made the air hotter. Lena’s hand had slipped under my shirt, nails lightly scratching my skin. My palm was sliding up her thigh, pushing her dress higher.

“Mark from your office?” she whispered.

I shook my head. “Too married. Too messy.”

“What about that friend of yours from college? The tall one?”

“Too far away.” I chuckled, but my mind kept circling back to one person. Ryan. My best friend since forever. The guy who was always around—barbecues, game nights, helping with the kids’ basketball hoop last summer. Tall, built, confident as hell. Single. And I’d caught him looking at Lena more than once. Not in a creepy way. Just… appreciative.

Lena must have noticed my hesitation because she tilted her head. “You keep thinking of someone.”

I hesitated, then laughed softly, the sound a little strained. My fingers dipped between her thighs, finding her already wet through her panties. She gasped.

“Ryan,” I said, half-joking to test the waters. “Ryan would probably volunteer.”

Her eyes widened, and a fresh wave of heat flooded her face. But she didn’t laugh it off. She rocked against my hand, breath catching.

“Ryan?” she whispered, voice husky. “Your Ryan?”

I nodded, pressing a finger against her c**t through the fabric, slow and teasing. “He’s always had a thing for you. I’ve seen it. And he’s… safe. We trust him. But it’s just talk right now, baby. Just a fantasy.”

Lena moaned softly, her hips moving against my touch. The conversation had lit something dangerous between us—the kind of fire I thought we’d lost.

She looked up at me, eyes dark with lust and something bolder. “Then maybe we should stop just talking about it…”