After pt shower part 2

Amber says she wants to watch, they decide to call her on video

The phone buzzed again. Matt read it, his blood roaring in his ears. He looked from the screen to the achingly hard cock in his hands, then back to Jenkins’ desperate, waiting face.

“She says…” Matt’s voice was ruined, raw with lust. He cleared his throat, the words feeling like a confession and a command all at once. “She says… ‘Don’t stop. I want to see more.’”

Jenkins’ head thumped back against the tile. “Fuck. Yes.” His hips stuttered forward, driving his length deeper into Matt’s tight, twisting grip. “How? A video?”

The idea was insanity. Glorious, reckless insanity. Matt’s thumbs were already moving, switching the camera to video, tapping Amber’s contact for a FaceTime call. The ringing tone seemed obscenely loud in the steamy stall.

Amber answered on the second ring.

Her face filled the screen, flushed and her eyes wide. She was in their bedroom, the soft lamplight a stark contrast to the harsh institutional lights of the shower. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as she took in the scene—Matt’s broad, naked back, the glistening cock in his hands, the steam rising around them.

“Jesus, Matt,” she breathed, her voice a husky whisper from the speaker.

“Hey, baby,” Matt managed, the greeting absurdly normal. He angled the phone, propping it carefully on the soap dish so the camera captured everything: Jenkins’ straining body, Matt’s hands working him, the raw hunger on both their faces.

“Is that him?” Amber asked, leaning closer to her screen. “Private Jenkins?”

“Yeah,” Jenkins grunted, his eyes locked on the little image of Amber on the phone. “Nice to finally meet you, ma’am.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across Amber’s lips. “The pleasure is mine. My God, Matt… you weren’t kidding.” Her gaze was avid, consuming. “He’s magnificent. Don’t just use your hands.”

The command, delivered in that soft, wanting tone from his wife, was the final key. It shattered the last of Matt’s internal resistance. This wasn’t just his secret curiosity anymore. It was theirs. A shared, hungry secret.

He looked up at Jenkins, whose jaw was clenched, a bead of sweat tracing his temple. “You heard her.”

“I heard her,” Jenkins gasped. “Do it, Sergeant. Please.”

The ‘please’ undid him.

Matt released his grip, his hands trembling. He lowered himself, the cold tile biting into his knees. The perspective shifted, the thick, veined shaft now at eye level, the flushed, ruddy head glistening with a clear, salty pearl of precum. The musky, clean scent of him filled Matt’s senses, overwhelming and deeply erotic.

He didn’t think. He acted.

He leaned forward, closing the scant inch of air. His tongue darted out first, a tentative, hot swipe across the weeping slit.

“Christ!” Jenkins hissed, his whole body jerking.

The taste exploded on Matt’s tongue—salty, musky, pure male. It was foreign and yet deeply, fundamentally right. It was the taste of a boundary crossed, of a fantasy made flesh. He moaned, the vibration against the sensitive head earning another sharp cry from above.

“Oh, yes,” Amber whispered from the phone. “Just like that. Take him in, Matt. Let me see.”

Encouraged, driven by the dual gazes upon him—one physical and hot above him, one digital and hungry miles away—Matt opened his mouth. He let the broad, slick head press past his lips.

The stretch was immediate. A delicious, burning fullness that made his jaw ache. He relaxed his throat, working to take him deeper, using one hand to guide the heavy weight. He swirled his tongue around the corona, licking and sucking, learning the texture, the heat.

“God… your mouth…” Jenkins choked out, his hands fisting in his own damp hair. “So fucking good, Sergeant.”

Matt hollowed his cheeks, beginning a slow, sucking pull. He drew back until just the head remained, then sank down again, taking another inch. His other hand came up to cradle the heavy sac below, rolling the tight orbs gently in his palm. Jenkins’ thighs trembled.

“Look at you,” Amber murmured, her voice a sultry soundtrack to the wet, sucking sounds filling the stall. “You look so good like that. Taking that big, beautiful cock. Is he hitting the back of your throat?”

Matt couldn’t answer. He could only groan around the fullness, a desperate, hungry sound. He pushed further, feeling the blunt head nudge his soft palate. His eyes watered. He pulled back, gasping for air, a string of saliva and precum connecting his lips to the glistening shaft.

“Again,” Amber commanded, her breath hitching. “Deeper this time. I want to watch you take it all.”

Jenkins’ hands left his hair and came down to frame Matt’s face, his thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. The gesture was shockingly tender amidst the raw carnality. “You’re fucking amazing,” he breathed, guiding himself back to Matt’s waiting lips.

This time, Matt was ready. He opened wider, relaxing his throat as Jenkins pushed forward. He focused on the sensation—the overwhelming fullness, the slick slide, the way Jenkins’ hips began a shallow, involuntary rhythm. He let the cock sink deeper, deeper, until his nose was buried in the coarse hair at the base, the head nudging into his throat. He held it there, swallowing convulsively around the intrusion.

The sensation made Jenkins shout, a raw, guttural sound that echoed off the tiles. “Fuck! Oh fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” Amber’s voice cut in, sharp and commanding. “Matt, slow down. Tease him. Use your tongue on the underside. Make him beg for it.”

Matt obeyed, releasing him with a wet pop. He dragged his tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside, from root to tip, lapping up the fresh rush of precum. He took just the head back into his mouth, sucking hard, his fingers working the length in a tight, twisting stroke.

“Please,” Jenkins whimpered, his composure utterly gone. He was just a young man on the edge, being expertly played by his sergeant and his sergeant’s wife. “Please, I need… I need to fuck your mouth. Please, Sergeant.”

The title, used as a plea in this context, sent a jolt of pure power through Matt. He glanced at the phone. Amber’s eyes were dark, her lips parted. She gave a single, slow nod.

Matt opened his mouth, an invitation.

Jenkins didn’t need another. He placed his hands on the back of Matt’s head, not forcing, but guiding. He began to move, shallow thrusts at first, then longer, deeper strokes. Matt relaxed his throat, letting him set the pace, his own arousal a painful, neglected throb between his legs. He reached down, finally taking himself in hand, stroking in time with the cock fucking his mouth.

The sounds were obscene—wet, rhythmic gulps and grunts, the slap of skin, Amber’s soft, encouraging moans from the speaker.

“That’s it,” she panted. “Just like that. You’re both so beautiful. Jenkins, are you close?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. “God, yes…”

“Look at me,” Amber said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Both of you. Look at me when he comes.”

Matt’s tear-blurred eyes found the phone’s screen. Jenkins, through half-lidded eyes, did the same, locking onto Amber’s digital gaze.

“Now,” she breathed.

It was the permission Jenkins needed. With a shattered cry, he drove deep and held, his body locking rigid. The first hot, salty pulse hit the back of Matt’s throat. He swallowed instinctively, then again, and again, drinking him down as Jenkins shuddered through his release, each pulse a violent, rewarding throb against his tongue.

Matt milked him through it, his own hand flying over his cock, his orgasm ripping through him seconds later in silent, shuddering waves, spilling onto the wet tile between his knees.

For a long moment, the only sounds were ragged breathing and the distant drip of a faucet. Jenkins slowly slipped from Matt’s lips, softening. Matt stayed on his knees, spent, the taste of Jenkins and the sound of Amber’s satisfied sigh filling all his senses.

Jenkins slid down the wall to sit on the floor facing him, a dazed, sated smile on his face. He reached out and took the phone, holding it so both their faces—flushed, wrecked—were in frame for Amber.

“So,” Jenkins said, his voice hoarse. “What’d you think, ma’am?”