Fiancé Seduced By Roommate Pt. 06

"Author's note: This story is Part 6 of my first serialized work. Read the earlier parts if you haven't already. The concept behind this story, including generalized characters/names and premise, was suggested by Literotica user Rav09. The story's development and specifics are my own.

This story will contain themes of cuckolding, voyeurism, reluctance/seduction, and interracial connections. You've been warned.

And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.

I had lost my mind. That was the obvious explanation. How else could I justify extending an open invitation to my roommate to sleep with my fiancé as much as he wanted? And not just agree to it... but be excited by it.

Six months ago, we didn't even know the guy. But now, Dante had become much more intimately involved with us than I would have ever thought possible. He'd gone all the way with Amanda on three separate occasions now, not to mention the other sex-adjacent encounters they'd had. But despite that, I didn't feel insecure in my relationship with Amanda at all. In fact, I'd never felt closer to her.

So maybe I hadn't lost my mind. Maybe I'd just found myself in a situation—no matter how unusual—that was strengthening my bond with Amanda. After all, if a couple has enough trust to spice up their relationship with another person, they probably have enough trust for anything else life could throw at them. Right?

With our wedding just a few months away, it seemed fitting to bare ourselves so freely to one another, without the fear of judgment or reprisals. In a twisted sort of way, agreeing to bring Dante into our sex lives was like our version of marriage counseling. It forced us to confront parts of ourselves that we kept locked away. But as uncomfortable as those self-confrontations might be, it was freeing too. We no longer had to hide our messy or awkward parts. Amanda and I now had total transparency.

For me, my soul-searching involved accepting that I liked sharing Amanda with Dante. I knew other men might call me weak or passive for not standing up for her 'virtue'. Even then, some who might otherwise understand would take issue with Dante being black. His skin color shouldn't matter, but I knew some still had archaic views on that sort of thing.

In any case, those other men weren't me, and that was okay. I was secure in my decision to share my fiancé, even if others might not understand.

On the other hand, Amanda didn't show any qualms about giving herself to Dante. She'd been fascinated by him since he moved in. After all, as she'd put it, Dante was a gorgeous man. Strong, charismatic, and well-endowed—it was no wonder Amanda couldn't seem to resist him. Plus, she now had my full support, so there was no reason for her to deny herself.

That's not to say that Amanda hadn't grown from the experience. Quite the opposite. Like me, Amanda had become much more comfortable with herself, particularly in seeing herself as a sexual being who could desire and be desired in turn. I'd always thought of Amanda as curvy and hot as hell, but she'd never seen herself that way. Blame her homeschooling past or blame her modest personality, but the result was the same: for most of her life, Amanda had truly believed she was a plain-Jane.

Dante changed all that for her. Our last time with Dante had involved Amanda playing the role of seductress. It hadn't come naturally for her, but she pulled it off amazingly well. Seeing how deeply she affected both Dante and me turned her self-image upside down. She was far from plain; she was sexy.

I fully encouraged this, saying I couldn't wait to see more of Sexy-Amanda... and she'd agreed.

But I didn't expect her to embrace Sexy-Amanda as fully as she did.

It started subtly, at least at first. After our last encounter with Dante—where'd we'd agreed that Dante could join us whenever he felt like it—there was a new tension in the apartment. It wasn't the tension of impending-sex, but rather something quieter: the knowledge that even as we went about our lives, our dynamic was fundamentally different. Dante wasn't merely a roommate anymore; he was a potential lover... and could become an active lover at a moment's notice.

Even routine interactions were charged now. Amanda and Dante brushing in the living room... mere accident or a prelude to another hot fuck session? Amanda and I kissing goodbye in front of Dante... a loving gesture or a lead-in for a threesome? Dante going shirtless in the apartment, showing off his body to Amanda... accidental exhibitionism or a deliberate invitation?

And so on.

Surprisingly, even as these tense encounters increased in frequency, they never spilled over into anything more explicit. Despite all three of us understanding that we could descend into a carnal tryst whenever we wanted, it seemed none of us wanted to be the first to initiate it. It was like a game of sexual chicken, where it was more fun to push the others into giving into their lust instead of starting it ourselves. I was surprised that Dante didn't make a move on Amanda immediately, but he didn't. My only guess is he was afraid of overstepping his bounds. After all, the wording of our offer was that he could join in with us... not necessarily that he could start it himself.

As we finished out Amanda's Winter Break, there was no more sex, even just between Amanda and me. To be fair, most of that time was spent visiting our families for the holidays, but still. By the time Amanda's spring semester started, I was in desperate need for release. I felt like I had cum up to my eyeballs, despite several masturbation sessions to help relieve the pressure.

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait much longer.

The first Saturday morning after Amanda's return to school, the two of us were eating breakfast in the dining room/kitchen area. I'd made it a habit to cook waffles for Amanda after her first week of school each semester, starting back in our undergrad. It was a small gesture, but since starting grad school, she'd come to really be excited for Waffle Day. I told her I'd be happy to make waffles anytime if she loved them so much, but Amanda had refused, preferring to keep Waffle Day as a special occasion.

The smell of batter cooking must have awoken Dante's appetite, because he emerged from his room much earlier than normal.

"You got enough of those for me too?" Dante said, eyeing the plate of waffles next to me hungrily.

"Oh, we've got plenty. Help yourself," I said, pouring the final batch of batter onto the waffle iron.

"Don't mind if I do," Dante replied, grabbing a plate and loading it up with griddled goodness.

Amanda had almost finished her own waffle by this point, her plate a syrupy mess.

Dante sat at the table across from her, shooting her a knowing glance. "I see I'm not the only one that has an appreciation for the good stuff."

Amanda laughed and filled Dante in on the history of Waffle Day. Dante listened attentively, slathering his waffle-tower in syrup, before digging in greedily. He couldn't seem to get enough; by the time he'd finished his first waffle, syrup dripped from his mouth.

Amanda stopped her story mid-sentence, clearly distracted by the mess Dante had made. "Jesus, Dante. Slow it down a bit. You've got syrup all over you."

Dante reached for his mouth as if noticing the spillage at last. Encountering the stickiness with his fingers, he grinned sheepishly. "Whoops?"

"Here, let me get it for you," Amanda said with a huff, standing from the table and walking to the sink. She grabbed a washcloth, dampened it, then walked back to Dante.

Dante faced her, allowing Amanda to remove the syrup with a quick swipe. "Thanks. What would I ever do without you?"

"Have syrup on your face," Amanda pointed out.

Dante laughed. "You got me there."

With her task completed, Amanda walked back to her side of the table and sat back down, restarting her story.

I'd silently watched this whole interaction as it played out. Innocent as it was, I felt the now-familiar tingle of excitement at the back of my skull. Was there something here? I thought there might be. A half-formed idea coalesced in my brain. By the time the waffle iron's 'ready' light blinked on, I'd decided to push ahead.

I moved the last waffle over to the stack and unplugged the iron. Amanda and Dante were still deep in conversation, so I loaded up my own plate, smothered the waffles in syrup, and moved towards Amanda. I placed the plate on the table, but before I sat down myself, I pretended something had caught my attention.

"Hey, Amanda. I think you got some syrup in your hair," I said, pointing for effect.

"Oh, shit, really?" Amanda exclaimed, reaching back instinctively to feel for it.

"Yeah. Here at the end." There was no syrup—yet—but Amanda didn't need to know that. As she fiddled trying to find the non-existent stickiness, I quietly dipped my fingertip in syrup and let a drop of it fall into her shirt and down her back.

"Shit, it dripped on me!" Amanda leapt from her seat, trying in vain to reach down her back to get the offending drop.

"Here, let me help. Take your shirt off and I'll get it for you," I said calmly.

Amanda wasn't wearing a bra—lazy Saturday—but she didn't hesitate: she had it over her head in a flash, although she kept it in front of her, with her arms still in it. So much for giving Dante a show, I thought. Still, we were halfway there.

As I went to wipe the drop away with one hand, I used my other to collect more syrup on my fingertips. Amanda was facing away and couldn't see the move, but Dante saw exactly what I was doing. He shot me a probing look.

Ignoring Dante, I used my syrup-hand to carefully drizzle a bit more onto Amanda... this time on her front. Amanda immediately looked down as the syrup touched her skin, forming a sticky line from her collarbone to the top of her right breast, just above where she held her shirt in place.

"Ew, what the hell, Dan?! Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" I said, playing dumb.

Amanda whirled around towards me. She let her shirt fall to the ground and used her now-free arms to indicate the sticky mess I'd left on her front. Although I knew I was caught, I couldn't help but admire Amanda's bare breasts. They were perfect already but being highlighted by syrup made them even hotter.

"Don't play dumb with me," Amanda said sternly. "You can clean it up now. You're lucky you didn't get any on my shirt."

Despite her tone, I could tell she wasn't really upset. Still, I pretended that I thought she was.

"Okay, fine. Give me a sec and I'll grab the washcloth. Dante, can you come restrain her so she doesn't jump me while my back is turned?"

"You would deserve... wait, why are you helping him?" Amanda cut herself off as she saw Dante move from around the table towards her.

"He cooked me waffles," Dante shrugged, placing himself between Amanda and me.

I pretended to fiddle with the washcloth. "Shit, this rag is too dirty now. Dante, can you take care of Amanda for me?"

"I don't have a washcloth," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but you have a tongue," I replied. "Just take care of her, it's fine."

I could pinpoint the exact moment the two of them processed my words.

"Huh," Dante said softly.

Amanda was silent. I knew I'd caught her off-guard putting her in this situation so suddenly... but would she go along?

"Yeah, it's fine," she finally said. "Just go for it. I don't want to sit here waiting all day for Dan to find a clean cloth."

Dante looked down at Amanda and I could see his lust for her flood to the surface. He clearly hadn't been keeping his hands off her for his own benefit.

"Well in that case," he replied, closing the distance between them, "Guess I should get started."

Dante took Amanda's shoulders in his hands and began to guide her backwards. Amanda obediently followed his lead until she pressed up against the table. She looked at him expectantly, lust and anticipation plain on her own face. Despite me springing this encounter on her, she was taking to it rapidly, a testament to how powerful her attraction to Dante still was.

Once Dante had her in position, he at last leaned over and moved his face between Amanda's boobs. I couldn't see his tongue touch her skin, but I saw Amanda's silent gasp at the moment of contact. Slowly and deliberately, he then began to trace upwards, lapping the syrup with his tongue as he moved. The strand wasn't long, though, and soon he'd gotten it all. He straightened again.

"Mmm, that syrup is better on you than the waffles. Mind if I taste it again?"

Amanda shook her head slightly, mesmerized by Dante's attention.

He looked towards me. "Pass me the bottle?"

I did.

Dante opened it and turned it over Amanda's body. Squeezing the bottle gently, he carefully drizzled syrup all over her front, impressively avoiding any spots on her pajamas or the floor. I couldn't help but think this wasn't the first time Dante had made a mess on Amanda, but now he'd splattered her with syrup rather than jizz. The realization made me instantly hard.

Once she was covered to his satisfaction, Dante returned to cleanup duty. He took his time, exploring every inch of Amanda's skin with his tongue. He clearly savored the experience, and it wasn't the syrup he most enjoyed. Amanda watched his progress with increasingly shallow breaths; I could tell Dante's uninhibited appreciation of her body had her furnace at full blast. When he at last reached her nipples, he sucked on them only briefly, but each time it drew another soft gasp from Amanda. By the time he'd licked up the last bit of syrup again, Amanda looked like she was ready to beg for Dante to ravage her.

But Dante wasn't done. Instead, he took the syrup bottle in-hand once again.

"Dante, please..." Amanda panted, desperation clear in her voice. It was obvious that they'd both forgotten about me.

"Don't worry, I'll give you what you need," Dante reassured her. "But I want to you see what syrup tastes like on me first."

Dante pulled off his own shirt, then his pants and underwear. Now naked, his cock towered into the air, aimed at my fiancé in a foreshadowing of what was to come. With a smirk, Dante opened the syrup bottle again and drizzled it onto his thick member. He returned the bottle to the table and waited.

Amanda, understanding, slowly went to her knees. Dante's cock was just in front of her face, but she didn't bother teasing him with small licks. Instead, she opened her mouth and took his girth whole. I could tell it wasn't easy for her, but she did it, finally managing to fit his entire head inside. Her lips wrapped around his shaft, cushioning it between their warm softness.

"That's it. Good girl," Dante said approvingly, placing a hand on the back of her head.

Amanda began to suck on him earnestly, but like before, she couldn't seem to take much more of him. There was still some syrup that she hadn't been able to reach, though, and so Dante attempted to slowly pump himself further into her mouth. Amanda instinctively tried to pull away, but Dante held her fast with his hand. Gently, but firmly, he face-fucked her a few times, forcing himself further down Amanda's throat each time. Amanda began to gag, but just when it seemed like she couldn't take it anymore, Dante finally pulled out completely. Spit trailed from his cock to Amanda's mouth, but she had done it—she'd managed to wipe away all the syrup. She'd just had to deep-throat Dante to pull it off; something she'd never done for me... or any other guy, for that matter.

Amanda looked up at Dante wonderingly, as if even she couldn't believe it either. But Dante didn't give her time for amazement. He reached down and pulled her to her feet, then removed her pajamas in a single motion. Amanda kicked them away and started to climb back onto the table, but Dante stopped her.

"Wait. Turn around for me," he commanded.

Amanda hesitated for a moment, but then complied. She spun around so she now faced the table, her ass facing Dante. Dante then gently pushed between her shoulders, bending her over. Amanda placed her hands on the table to support her weight as Dante simultaneously nudged her legs apart with his foot. And just like that, my fiancé had submitted herself once more to Dante.

Dante didn't waste time appreciating the view. Taking his python of a cock into his hand, he guided it between Amanda's legs... and then pushed forward. I'd quietly moved for a better view, so I saw clearly how Dante began to disappear inside her inch by inch. Even now, it fascinated me that Amanda could fit such a large specimen inside her. I could only imagine how full it must have made her feel. Rather than make me jealous, though, the sight only turned me on more. I pulled out my own cock and began to stroke.

The movement caught Dante's eye. Despite being balls-deep inside my bent-over fiancé, he managed to tear his glance away long enough to make eye contact with me.

"Dan, your girl's got the best pussy I've ever had. Holy fuck."

I just nodded in agreement. Dante must have seen something in my eyes, because he then added, "why don't you take my seat? That way you two can look at each other while you get off."

Wordlessly, I followed his suggestion. I moved to the other side of the table from them, sitting down in his chair. Amanda watched me approach, but she seemed only half-present, as if the pleasure of Dante taking her had waterlogged her brain.

"How you feeling?" I asked softly, already knowing what the answer would be.

"Oh, Dan. He feels so good inside me," she half-moaned as Dante slowly withdrew and plunged forward again.

"You like when Dante fucks you?" I echoed, turning myself on further. A part of me knew how fucked up it was for me to be encouraging Amanda's pleasure from Dante, but I couldn't help it. It felt almost as good as being inside Amanda myself.

"I do," Amanda admitted. "Dan, thank you so much for being okay with this. I love you so much." She gasped in pleasure as Dante hit a sensitive spot.

"I love you too, babe," I replied, now steadily stroking myself.

It was the most surreal moment of my life: passively watching my fiance's face contort in pleasure while our black roommate began to fuck her in earnest. I realized later I could have gotten a blowjob if I'd wanted—I'm sure putting my cock near Amanda's face would have started it—but at the time, it didn't even occur to me. Just watching Dante take her was pleasure enough, as messed up as that was.

"Goddamn, Amanda, I can't get over how fucking hot you are," Dante grunted as he continued to thrust into her.

Amanda tried to look back at Dante, even as her body kept jerking forward with each of his thrusts, but she couldn't quite crane her neck far enough. Finally, she gave up the attempt as another wave of pleasure overcame her, her head falling forward over the table. When Amanda lifted up again, her brown hair had fallen in a tussled mess over her face, but even that didn't completely hide her expression of pure ecstasy underneath.

Dante had placed both hands on Amanda's ass, gripping tightly, and used the extra leverage to push himself even further into her. The sound of his pelvis slapping repeatedly against her full cheeks was incredibly hot, and I can only imagine that the view of her bouncing against him was even more so. I could, however, see Amanda's breasts; they rippled rhythmically in the air each time Dante plunged into her. The sight was as erotic as it was hypnotic. I felt my orgasm approaching.

Dante must have been in a similar position, because he suddenly let go of Amanda's ass and reached for her hair. Taking a handful, he gently tugged, guiding her to bend upwards and straighten out again. She did, extending her arms so that her hands were still on the table, but she was much more upright than before. At this new angle, I could actually see all the way down to her pelvis... and the thick black cock nestled deeply inside it. I'd seen Amanda take Dante's cock before, but never from behind. I had the perfect angle to see her pussy lips stretched wider than I would have thought possible, her pinkness fully impaled on Dante's dark shaft. His cock glistened, by now thoroughly saturated by Amanda's internal juices.