Erotic Polyamory Cabin Heat 🔥

Chapter 1: The Scent of Arrival 🔥

The garage door hummed to life, a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards like a promise of what’s to come. Mick stepped out of his car, the late spring air thick with the scent of blooming jasmine from the neighbor’s yard, mixing with the faint, metallic tang of exhaust. He paused, inhaling deeply, letting the day’s chaos slip away. Inside, the house waited, warm and alive, the kind of place where boundaries blurred into something raw and real.

Sarah was in the kitchen first, as always when Danny’s coaching trips pulled him away. Her apron hugged her hips, the only scrap of fabric on her otherwise bare skin. The steam from the stove rose in lazy curls, carrying garlic and herbs that made his mouth water. She turned, her eyes lighting up, a sly smile curling her lips. “Hey, stranger. Hungry?”

Mick grinned, dropping his keys on the counter with a clink. “Starving. For food… and maybe more.” He moved closer, the cool tile under his shoes contrasting the heat radiating from her body. His hands found her waist, thumbs brushing the soft curve where apron met skin. She leaned into him, her breath warm against his neck, tasting faintly of the mint she’d chewed earlier.

“Keri’s running late again,” Sarah murmured, her voice husky, fingers already tugging at his shirt buttons. “Market’s a bitch today. But dinner’s almost ready—clams in white wine sauce, just like last time.” The words hung between them, heavy with memory, the way that same meal had led to nights where plates were forgotten in favor of skin on skin.

He nodded, helping her set the bar, the wooden surface smooth under his palms. Three glasses clinked softly as he placed them down, the promise of chilled white wine shimmering in the overhead light. Sarah’s laughter bubbled up when he asked about the chill, light and teasing, her bare feet padding softly as she stirred the pot. The aroma intensified, savory and inviting, wrapping around them like a lover’s arms.

Then, the door from the garage creaked open. Keri’s heels clicked against the threshold, sharp and impatient. She sighed, a deep exhale that spoke volumes, her briefcase thudding to the floor. Mick was there in an instant, arms enveloping her, the fabric of her suit crisp against his chest. “Rough day?” he whispered, lips grazing her ear, inhaling the subtle perfume of her skin mixed with the day’s sweat.

“You have no idea,” she replied, melting into him, her voice a low growl. Their kiss was slow at first, tasting of lipstick and exhaustion, then deeper, tongues dancing with the urgency of reunion. Sarah watched from the stove, her own desire flickering like the flame beneath the pan.

Mick’s fingers worked methodically, unbuttoning her jacket, the zipper’s rasp echoing in the quiet kitchen. He peeled it away, revealing the swell of her breasts straining against her blouse. Pausing, he traced the lace edge of her bra with his eyes, the sight stirring him, a familiar ache building low in his gut. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough.

Keri sipped the wine he handed her, the glass cool against her lips, a shiver running down her spine as he continued undressing her. Blouse off, pants sliding down her thighs—smooth, toned from years of yoga—the air kissed her exposed skin. He knelt, pressing his mouth to her through the thin panties, the musky scent of her arousal hitting him like a drug, salty and intoxicating.

Sarah called out, “Dinner’s ready,” but her tone was playful, edged with need. Mick lingered, hands cupping Keri’s ass, firm and yielding under his touch. Finally, he rose, his erection straining against his pants, poking her hip teasingly. She laughed, bending to take him in her mouth briefly—wet, warm suction that made his knees weak—before they settled at the bar, towels beneath them, bodies bare and buzzing.

The meal was perfection: clams tender, sauce rich on the tongue, wine crisp and cold sliding down throats. Conversation flowed—market madness, coaching woes—but under it all simmered tension, glances lingering on curves, feet brushing under the bar.

Teasing Whispers

As plates cleared, Sarah’s hand grazed Keri’s breast, a casual pat turning into a caress. “Relax, boss,” she said, voice dripping honey. Keri sighed, leaning back, her nipples hardening under the touch. Mick watched, heart pounding, the room’s warmth amplifying every sensation—the soft jazz from the stereo, the lingering garlic on his lips, the sight of two women he loved entwined in subtle intimacy.

“Vacation’s set,” Keri announced, eyes gleaming. “Two weeks at the cabin. No markets, no practices. Just us.” The words ignited something primal, visions of untamed woods and endless nights flashing in their minds.

Sarah’s eyes sparkled. “And Danny?”

“He’s in,” Mick confirmed, pulling her close for a quick kiss, tasting the wine on her lips. The evening stretched ahead, ripe with possibility.

Chapter 2: Rhythms of the Night

The TV room glowed softly under dim lamps, blues wailing from the speakers—gritty guitar riffs that pulsed like a heartbeat. Mick sank into the couch, Keri curling against him, her head on his shoulder, skin still flushed from the kitchen heat. Sarah stretched, then rose, hips swaying as the music took hold. “Mind if I dance?” she asked, voice light, but her eyes dark with intent.

“Never,” Keri replied, a smile playing on her lips. Mick felt the shift, the air thickening, charged like before a storm. Sarah moved, feet light on the carpet, body undulating to the beat. Her small breasts bounced gently, nipples taut, ass flexing with each step. It wasn’t the mechanical grind of club dancers; this was alive, fluid, her skin glistening faintly with a sheen of sweat.

The scent of her exertion mingled with the room’s faint musk—arousal building, undeniable. Mick’s cock twitched, hardening as he watched, the visual feast pulling him in. “Jesus, Sarah,” he muttered, “you’re killing me.”

She laughed, spinning closer, her breath coming quicker, tasting the air. “That’s the point. Dancing always gets me… worked up.” Her hands trailed down her sides, fingers brushing thighs, teasing the smooth mound between.

Keri shifted, her own desire stirring, hand slipping to Mick’s lap, stroking him through his towel. “Watching her does the same to me,” she confessed, voice breathy. The music swelled, Sarah dropping low, thighs parting slightly, the glimpse of pink wetness making Mick’s mouth dry.

“You two are trouble,” he groaned, but made no move to stop it. Sarah danced nearer, her body heat washing over them, the soft slap of bare feet on floor syncing with the bass. Keri stood suddenly, wine glass in hand, bending to set it down—ass presented, swaying side to side, pussy lips peeking through dark curls.

Mick’s hand went to his shaft, stroking slowly, the velvety skin sliding under his palm, pre-cum slicking the way. The sight was hypnotic: Keri’s hips rolling, Sarah approaching, kneeling on the coffee table, offering herself. Keri’s mouth found Sarah’s core, tongue delving in with a wet slurp, the sound obscene and thrilling.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Sarah moaned, hands tangling in Keri’s hair, guiding her. The room filled with slurps and gasps, the blues’ raw edge underscoring their rhythm. Mick pumped faster, eyes darting—Keri’s fingers spreading herself open, pink inner folds glistening, contrasting her black bush.

Her scent hit him waves: earthy, aroused, mixed with Sarah’s sweeter tang. He leaned in, unable to resist, but held back, savoring the build. Sarah’s legs draped over Keri’s shoulders, thighs quivering, the touch of skin on skin electric.

Building Heat

“Deeper,” Sarah urged, voice cracking. Keri obliged, fingers plunging in, the squelch audible, her own hand working her clit furiously. Mick’s control frayed; his orgasm hit sudden, ropes of cum splattering Keri’s hand. She didn’t flinch, lifting it to Sarah’s mouth—licked clean, smeared across cheeks in a filthy display.

The women continued, unbroken, Keri’s groans vibrating against Sarah. Mick smeared his release over them, coating faces and thighs, the salty taste on his fingers when he licked them clean. It was messy, primal, the kind of sex that left marks.

Sarah repositioned, sixty-nine on the table, pussies grinding, mouths devouring. Mick joined, face buried in Keri, nose pressed to her ass, inhaling deeply—musky, forbidden. Sarah’s hand found his cock, sucking him deep, throat constricting around him.

“Fuck her mouth,” Keri gasped between licks. He did, thrusting, the wet gluck-gluck filling the air. Balls tightened, and they came together—screams muffled, bodies shuddering, juices flooding mouths and faces.

Chapter 3: Tangled Limbs and Whispers 💋

They collapsed in a heap, breaths ragged, skin sticky with sweat and cum. The music looped softly now, a sultry saxophone weaving through the afterglow. Keri straddled Mick’s lap, her weight comforting, back arched as he kissed her neck—salty skin, faint perfume lingering. Sarah hovered, lips claiming Keri’s in a deep, tongue-heavy kiss, sharing flavors of each other.

Mick’s hands roamed, squeezing breasts—Keri’s heavy and full, spilling over his palms, Sarah’s pert and responsive. Nipples pebbled under his thumbs, eliciting moans that vibrated through them all. “You taste like us,” Sarah whispered against Keri’s mouth, nipping her lip.

“And I want more,” Keri replied, grinding down, her wet heat sliding along Mick’s thigh. The friction built slow, deliberate, her curls tickling his skin. Sarah’s eyes met his over Keri’s shoulder, a spark there, and she leaned in, their kiss bridging the gap—tasting Keri on each other’s tongues.

They shifted, women facing him now, pussies aligned. Mick pulled them close, arms around waists, mouth alternating—kissing Keri’s bush, matted and damp, then Sarah’s smooth lips, swollen and slick. The contrasts drove him wild: coarse hair versus silky skin, deep musk versus light sweetness.

Sarah’s hand dipped to Keri’s clit, fingers circling the buried pearl, drawing a hiss from her. “Like that?” Sarah teased, voice low and dirty.

“Harder,” Keri demanded, hips bucking. Mick mirrored, finger sliding into Sarah, curling to her G-spot, the spongy texture yielding under pressure. He sucked her clit, tongue flicking, while his other hand worked Keri similarly. Their knees buckled, cries echoing—high and sharp for Sarah, deep and guttural for Keri.

Orgasms crashed, bodies trembling, fluids coating fingers and chins. They sank to the couch, spent but not sated, cuddling in a tangle of limbs. Keri’s head on Mick’s chest, Sarah’s leg draped over them both. The carpet’s plushness cradled spilled wine, a sticky reminder of abandon.

“That was… intense,” Mick said, voice hoarse, tracing lazy patterns on their backs.

Sarah chuckled, nuzzling closer. “Just the warmup. Cabin week’s gonna break us.”

Keri lifted her head, eyes smoldering. “Promise?” The word hung, laced with challenge, as hands began to wander again.

Aftershocks

Sarah slipped away first, heading to her apartment with a lingering kiss—soft, tasting of salt and wine. “Sleep well, you two. Save some for tomorrow.”

“Night, beautiful,” Keri called, pulling Mick toward the stairs. Their bedroom waited, sheets cool against heated skin, but sleep was far off. Under the covers, bodies entwined, fingers explored lazily—teasing edges of exhaustion into fresh sparks.

Mick’s mouth found Keri’s breast, sucking the nipple deep, the areola’s texture rough on his tongue. She arched, hand guiding him lower, to the core still throbbing from earlier. “Taste me again,” she breathed, legs parting.

He did, delving in, lapping the creamy remnants of her release—tangy, addictive. Her fingers clenched his hair, pulling him closer, hips rocking against his face. The bed creaked softly, rhythm building until she shattered once more, thighs clamping his head, muffling her cry.

In turn, she took him in hand, stroking firm, mouth enveloping the head—swirling tongue, hollowed cheeks. He came quick, spilling down her throat, the swallow audible, intimate.

Finally, sleep claimed them, bodies spooned, hearts syncing in the quiet dark.

Chapter 4: Cabin Fever Ignites

Days blurred into the trip’s eve, tension coiling like a spring. Practices wrapped, markets ignored—Keri’s team on autopilot. Danny returned, his broad frame filling the door, grin wide as Sarah launched into his arms. “Missed you,” she purred, legs wrapping his waist, kiss fierce and claiming.

The house thrummed with energy that night, all four together for the first time in weeks. Dinner was casual—steaks sizzling on the grill, smoke curling up with char and spice. Laughter rang out, beers clinking, but eyes lingered, promises unspoken.

After, in the TV room, music shifted to something slower, R&B grooves that slithered under skin. Danny pulled Sarah to dance, bodies pressed close, his hands on her ass, grinding subtle. Mick and Keri watched from the couch, her hand in his lap, squeezing rhythmically.

“They’re hot, aren’t they?” Keri whispered, breath hot on his ear.

“Like fire,” he agreed, cock hardening under her touch. Sarah caught their gaze, winking, her movements bolder—thighs parting around Danny’s leg, a soft moan escaping.

Danny’s voice rumbled low. “You two joining?” He stripped Sarah slow, shirt over head, revealing freckled skin, then pants, her arousal evident in the flush creeping up her chest.

Keri rose, shedding her robe, breasts swaying free. Mick followed, erection bobbing. The air hummed with anticipation, scents of arousal mingling—musky, heady.

They converged on the rug, a pile of limbs and heat. Danny claimed Sarah’s mouth, deep and devouring, while Mick kissed Keri, hands roaming her curves. Then switches—Sarah’s lips on Keri, tongues tangling, hands cupping breasts.

“Fuck, you taste good,” Sarah murmured, nipping Keri’s neck.

Danny positioned Mick, guiding him to Sarah’s mouth while he entered Keri from behind—slow thrust, her gasp filling the room. The slap of skin began, rhythmic, wet. Mick watched, stroking himself, the sight of Danny’s cock disappearing into Keri’s folds—stretched, glistening—pushing him over.

Sarah sucked him eagerly, throat relaxing, eyes locked on his. “Cum for me,” she urged around him, vibration sending shocks. He did, flooding her mouth, excess dribbling down her chin.

Keri cried out, Danny’s pace quickening, balls slapping her ass. He pulled out, spraying across her back, hot and sticky. Sarah lapped it up, tongue tracing spine, sharing with Keri in a messy kiss.

They rotated, Danny taking Sarah doggy-style, her face buried in Keri’s pussy, Mick sliding into Keri’s mouth. The chain linked them, moans harmonizing—grunts, slurps, the creak of bodies shifting.

Sensory overload: Danny’s sweat dripping onto Sarah’s back, salty when she licked it; Keri’s juices coating her chin, tangy; Mick’s musky scent filling her nostrils as she deep-throated him.

Peak of the Night

Climaxes built in waves—Sarah first, screaming into Keri, body convulsing around Danny. He followed, pulling out to paint her ass, fingers dipping into the mess to feed her. Keri came next, grinding on Sarah’s face, flooding her. Mick thrust deep, holding as he emptied into Keri’s throat, her swallow pulling every drop.

Exhausted, they lay tangled, breaths syncing, the room reeking of sex—cum, sweat, satisfaction. “Cabin’s gonna be wild,” Danny panted, arm around Sarah.

“Understatement,” Keri agreed, kissing Mick softly.

Chapter 5: Lakeside Unleashed

The cabin nestled by the lake, pines whispering in the breeze, water lapping gently at the dock. They arrived midday, bags tossed aside, clothes shed in a frenzy. Sun warmed skin, air crisp with pine and earth, a far cry from city heat.

First day: lazy exploration. Sarah and Keri swam nude, breasts bobbing, laughter echoing over water. Mick and Danny watched from the porch, beers in hand, cocks stirring at the sight—wet skin gleaming, droplets tracing curves.

“They’re something,” Danny said, voice thick.

“Ours,” Mick replied, clinking bottles. Evening brought fire pit crackle, marshmallows toasting to gooey sweetness, but hunger shifted primal. Sarah straddled Danny’s lap, grinding, his hands kneading her ass. “Want you now,” she whispered, guiding him inside—slow sink, her moan drawn out.

Keri pulled Mick to the grass, pushing him down, mounting reverse—cowgirl view of her ass bouncing, pussy gripping him tight. The slap of flesh mixed with fire’s pop, night air cooling sweat-slicked skin.

They swapped midway, Danny taking Keri against a tree—rough bark scraping her back, his thrusts deep, grunting. “Harder, fuck me harder,” she demanded, nails raking his shoulders.

Sarah rode Mick on the blanket, tits in his face, sucking nipples—milky skin, faint taste of lake water. Her walls clenched, milking him, cries piercing the dark.

Orgasms ripped through: Danny filling Keri, cum leaking down thighs; Sarah squirting on Mick, soaking his balls; shared kisses tasting of release.

Nights blurred—threesomes by the lake, dawn foursomes in bed. One morning, Sarah woke Mick with her mouth, Danny eating Keri beside them. “Morning wood’s best wood,” Sarah teased, swallowing deep.

Afternoon hike led to a clearing: group circle, hands and mouths everywhere. Keri on her knees, alternating cocks—sucking Mick, then Danny, hands stroking the other. Saliva dripped, chins slick, the forest silent witness.

Sarah lay back, legs spread, Keri’s tongue on her while men watched, jerking. “Join,” she gasped, and they did—Mick in Sarah, Danny in Keri side-by-side, syncing thrusts, women kissing over the divide.

Sensory storm: birdsong mixing moans; earth cool under knees; tastes of pussy and cock intermingling; scents of pine and sex; touches electric, from gentle caresses to bruising grips.

Deepening Bonds

By week’s end, exhaustion mingled with bliss. Evenings wound down to talks by the fire—futures, loves, no jealousies. Sex softened too: slow lovemaking, bodies merging fluidly.

Last night, all four in the big bed, positions fluid. Mick inside Keri missionary, deep eye contact, her breasts heaving. Sarah sixty-nined Danny nearby, asses up, fingers in anuses—taboo touch adding edge.

“I love this,” Keri whispered as she came, clenching around him.

“Us too,” echoed voices, climaxes cascading—cum inside, on skin, swallowed.

Morning departure loomed, but memories etched deep. Driving home, hands linked, the road ahead promising more—unfettered, raw, theirs.

Chapter 6: Echoes of Ecstasy

Back home, the cabin’s wildness lingered like a scent on clothes. Routine resumed, but spiced—quickies in kitchens, stolen moments. One evening, post-dinner, Sarah cornered Mick in the hall, dropping to knees, unzipping him. “Missed this,” she said, mouth engulfing, throat working him with practiced ease.

Keri walked in, smiling, joining—tongue on his balls while Sarah sucked. Danny found them, adding his cock to the mix, women alternating, hands pumping. Cum erupted, painting faces, licked clean in a chain of kisses.

Nights with pairs: Mick and Sarah in the shower, water cascading, her bent over, ass presented—thrusts echoing off tiles, steam thick with moans. Taste of soap and skin, slippery bodies sliding.

Keri and Danny in the guest room, her riding him reverse, ass cheeks spreading with each bounce, his thumbs teasing her hole. “Finger me there,” she begged, and he did, dual penetration sending her spiraling.

Full reunions reignited flames: living room orgy, bodies oiled, sliding frictionless. Positions piled—double penetration for Keri, Mick in pussy, Danny in ass, her screams raw. Sarah under, licking junctions, tasting mingled fluids.

“Fill me,” Keri pleaded, and they did, hot spurts deep, overflowing for Sarah to lap.

Sarah’s turn: on all fours, Danny in mouth, Mick behind, alternating holes—pussy to ass, slick with cum. Her body quaked, orgasms multiple, voice hoarse from cries.

Through it, dialogues crude and loving: “Your cock feels so good stretching me.” “Cum on my tits, mark me.” “Taste her on me.”

Sensory immersion peaked: visual of bodies writhing; auditory symphony of flesh and gasps; olfactory cocktail of arousal and sweat; gustatory delights of skin and essence; tactile overload of grips, slaps, caresses.

One final night, post-vacation glow fading, they gathered slow. No rush—kisses trailing, hands exploring maps of flesh. Mick entered Sarah gently, Danny Keri, side by side, women facing, fingers linked.

“This is home,” Mick murmured, thrusting deep.

“Always,” Keri agreed, eyes closing in bliss.

Climaxes soft, shared, bodies collapsing into embrace. Sleep came easy, dreams woven with touches remembered, bonds unbreakable in the quiet after.