“Oh,” Darren said suddenly, as if remembering something, “that reminds me—got a weird text yesterday. Maya’s getting married.”
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Ashley tilted her head. “Maya?”
Darren nodded, sipping his coffee. “Old… friend. From back in Arizona.”
Ashley turned a little in his lap to get a better look at him. “Like a friend-friend, or a naked friend?”
Darren grinned. “Very naked.”
Ashley arched an eyebrow, not smiling.
Darren leaned back in his chair, fingers still grazing the bare skin of Ashley’s inner thigh, eyes turning to me with a crooked smile.
“Maya was… different,” he said, as if savoring the memory. “Latina. Thick hips, wild hair, always smelled like cinnamon and sweat after a run. A little younger than Ashley.” He glanced at me with a knowing smirk. “You ever had a girl who couldn’t keep her hands off you in public?”
I blinked. “Uh… not really.”
Darren continued. “Once blew me in a dressing room at a department store with people right outside. Middle of the afternoon. She loved anal too. Would beg for it. I took her ass in a parking lot once.”
Ashley made a soft sound in her throat—barely a scoff, but sharp enough. “Sounds classy.”
Darren ignored the sarcasm. “She was Puerto Rican. Used to dance bachata like her hips had a vendetta.”
I glanced up from my cup, something tightening behind my eyes. “Bachata?”
Darren chuckled. “It’s not a dance. It’s a warning. You see a girl like that move like that, you know your life’s about to change. First night we met, I took her right on the balcony of a club in San Juan—music still playing, her dress hiked to her waist, biting her own hand to keep from screaming. Never seen a girl ride cock that mean.”
Ashley’s smile was tight, voice clipped. “How poetic.”
Darren ignored her, eyes still on me. “I swear, man—her pussy would clamp down when she came. Like, full-on locked me in. I couldn’t pull out even if I wanted to.” He exhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring at the memory.
My mouth opened, then closed again. I looked like I was trying to form a thought, but all I managed was: “Damn.”
Ashley’s eyebrow twitched. She sipped her coffee with exaggerated calm. “Sounds like you miss her.”
Darren finally turned to Ashley, amused. “Nah. I mean, it was great, but… you know. She didn’t have your lips.”
Ashley tilted her head, unconvinced. “Right. Just her walk, her pussy, her mouth, her—what was it? Bachata hips?”
I cleared my throat, eyes flicking between them. “So, uh… how long were you two…?”
Darren grinned wider. “Couple years. Off and on. Every time she lost a boyfriend, she’d crawl back in my bed to hook up. She used to send me voice notes—moaning, telling me how soaked she was.” He looked down at Ashley’s legs still spread across his lap, his hand now slowly stroking higher. “She said no one ever filled her like I did.”
I swallowed. My eyes dropped, involuntarily, to Darren’s hand—still casually stroking my wife’s bare thigh, fingers dangerously close to the heat between her legs. I looked back up quickly.
Ashley’s lips parted, like she wanted to say something. But nothing came. Her grip on her mug tightened.
I swallowed hard. “That’s… intense.”
Darren looked at me then—like he saw straight through me. “You’d have loved watching it. The way she begged when I choked her, the way she came just from being slapped across the face. Little slut said she couldn’t live without my cock.”
Ashley set her mug down a little too hard. “Wow. Truly heartwarming. Should’ve invited her for brunch,” she said sweetly, not quite smiling.
Darren just chuckled and drew slow circles a little higher, fingers brushing close to where her legs met heat. “Just making conversation.”
He paused, then gave Ashley’s thigh a slow, deliberate squeeze. “She had this tattoo… right here.” His hand slid higher, fingers pressing softly where her inner thigh met the heat of her sex. “Just above the crease.”
Ashley stiffened slightly, biting her lip. “You’re telling me this why?”
Darren gave a casual shrug. “Because she invited me to her wedding. Figured I’d ask if you wanted to come with.”
Ashley blinked. “You want me to be your date to your fuck-buddy’s wedding?”