Reigniting the Spark: A New Touch

Kat and KC had carved out a life together that felt like a well-worn groove—eleven years of shared mornings, inside jokes, and the kind of quiet comfort that comes from knowing someone's flaws inside out. But lately, the bedroom had turned into a no-man's-land, all fumbling attempts and zero fire. One rainy Tuesday evening, sprawled on their thrift-store couch with takeout containers scattered like battlefield casualties, KC finally cracked open the conversation. "Kat," he said, his voice tentative but edged with that familiar plea, "I love you, you know that. But we need to shake this up. I've got this fantasy... just hear me out."

Kat raised an eyebrow, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. She knew the script—KC had always gotten a thrill from imagining her as the center of attention, eyes on her curves in a crowded bar or a stranger's lingering gaze. It wasn't her thing; she preferred the intimacy they built in private, no spotlights. But seeing the desperation in his eyes, the way their sex life had flatlined into obligation, she sighed. "Fine. What's the fantasy?"

"An erotic massage. From another guy. I pick him, set it up. I just... I want to watch you get taken care of, feel desired like that." KC's cheeks flushed, but he pushed on. "It turns me on thinking about showing you off, yeah. But it's not about me controlling it. You take it as far as you want. No pressure."

Kat mulled it over, her mind flashing to the boredom of their routine fucks—quick, lights off, done. "Okay," she said finally. "But I'm drawing lines. Sensual massage, that's it. Maybe he sees a little skin if the mood hits. Nothing more." KC nodded eagerly, already scrolling his phone for options. By morning, he'd found Reggie—a licensed therapist with glowing reviews and photos that screamed confidence: tall, built like he lived in the gym, dark skin gleaming under professional lighting. "He's perfect," KC said. "Just seeing his hands on you... fuck, it'll be huge for me."

A week later, they pulled up to Reggie's apartment in a nondescript complex that backed onto a scraggly park, the kind where dogs chased frisbees on weekends. Kat smoothed her simple sundress, nerves buzzing like static. At 5'4", she felt small next to KC's 5'2" frame, but nothing prepared her for the door swinging open. Reggie filled the frame, easily 6'4" with shoulders that strained his fitted tee, a easy smile breaking across his face. "You must be Kat and KC," he said, voice deep and smooth, like gravel wrapped in velvet. He shook KC's hand firmly, then turned to Kat, his eyes locking on hers with an intensity that made her pulse skip. "Come on in."

The lock clicked behind them, and before Kat could blink, Reggie slid an arm around her waist—proprietary, casual—like they'd known each other forever. "This way, beautiful," he murmured, guiding her through the dim hallway. KC trailed a step behind, his shorter legs working double-time. They passed a living room where the air hummed with the electronic chatter of video games. Two guys, early twenties by the look of their baggy hoodies and focused stares on the screen, glanced up. One paused the game, smirking. "Reg, you got company?"

Reggie didn't break stride, his hand firm on Kat's hip. "Yeah, fellas. This is Kat and her man KC. Say hi." The guys nodded, eyes raking over Kat's figure with lazy appreciation—her sundress hugging her full breasts and the sway of her hips. "Hey," one said, grinning. "Looking good." Kat's face heated, a mix of embarrassment and something sharper, uninvited. Reggie chuckled low, steering her onward. "Ignore them. Bedroom's this way."

KC followed, cheeks burning, the casual exposure stinging like a slap. Inside the bedroom, the space was sparse but purposeful: a sturdy massage table in the center, draped in fresh sheets, flanked by shelves of oils and folded towels. A king bed sat against one wall, unmade but inviting. Reggie shut the door, the click echoing, and turned to KC with a look that brooked no bullshit. "You," he said, pointing to the bed's edge. "Sit there. Face the table. Stay quiet unless I ask you something. Got it?"

KC swallowed, nodding. "Yes."

Reggie's eyes narrowed, his presence swelling to fill the room. "That's 'yes, sir' to you." The command hung heavy, alpha energy crackling off him like static.

KC's voice came out small, humiliated. "Yes, sir."

Kat's breath caught, shock rippling through her. She'd expected smooth professionalism, not this dominance that made the air thicken. But fuck, a traitorous heat pooled low in her belly, her nipples tightening against her bra. Reggie turned to her, his expression softening just enough to disarm. "Beautiful, I'm stepping out. Undress fully—whatever you're comfortable with—and lie face down under the towel. We'll start slow." He winked, then vanished, leaving the door cracked.

Kat shot KC a wide-eyed look. "What the hell was that?"

KC shrugged, already sinking onto the bed, his pants tenting slightly. "It's... part of it, I guess. You okay?"

She nodded, peeling off her dress, bra, and panties, the cool air kissing her skin. Her body wasn't flawless—soft curves from years of real life, C-cup breasts with dark nipples, a trimmed patch above her pussy—but she felt exposed in a way that buzzed. She draped the towel over her ass and lay down, face in the cradle, heart pounding.

Reggie returned, the door shutting with finality. His hands were warm, oiled, starting at her shoulders with firm, therapeutic pressure. "Relax, Kat," he said, voice a soothing rumble. "You've got tension here—work? Life?" As he worked the knots from her back, he chatted easily, drawing her out: her job as a graphic designer, KC's quirky habits, the little things that made her laugh. His touch was expert, thumbs digging into muscles she didn't know were screaming, and slowly, the seduction wove in. "You're gorgeous, you know that? Body like yours deserves this every week."

Kat hummed, melting under his hands. The towel shifted as he moved lower, exposing the sides of her breasts, his fingers grazing the swell. She should stop him—had planned to—but her skin tingled, pussy clenching subtly. "Thanks," she murmured, voice breathy.

He chuckled, hands sliding to her lower back, thumbs pressing just above her ass. "Boyfriend's lucky. But I bet he doesn't make you feel this wanted." The towel inched up, baring her cheeks, and his palms spread oil over her glutes, kneading deep. Fingers dipped between her thighs, brushing her inner lips—accidental? No, deliberate. Kat gasped, but didn't pull away; her clit throbbed, wetness gathering. Reggie's touch grew bolder, one hand trailing up her spine while the other explored her folds, circling her entrance without penetrating. "You're responding so well, beautiful. Wet already."

She bit her lip, glancing at KC in the mirror across the room. He sat rigid, hand in his lap, eyes glued to the scene. The sight fueled her—embarrassment twisting into arousal. Reggie's fingers parted her lips, stroking her clit lightly, and she arched, a soft moan escaping. "Fuck," she whispered.

"Like that?" Reggie asked, voice dropping an octave. He flipped her over with ease, the towel falling away, leaving her fully nude on the table—breasts heaving, pussy glistening. His eyes devoured her, and he stepped back, hands on his shirt. "Mind if I get comfortable? It's getting warm in here."

Kat hesitated, pulse racing, but curiosity won. "Yeah... okay." She wanted to see him, this towering man who'd commandeered her evening.

Reggie stripped efficiently, peeling off his shirt to reveal a chiseled chest, abs rippling down to a V that disappeared into his pants. Then those came off, boxers last, and holy shit—his cock sprang free, thick as her wrist, veined and heavy, easily nine inches soft and growing. It bobbed as he turned, balls hanging low and full. Kat's mouth went dry, eyes wide; beside her, KC let out a choked sound, his face a mask of shock and envy.

Reggie laughed, deep and genuine, stroking himself once to full hardness—now a monster, curving up toward his navel. "You two look like you've never seen one before. Like it, Kat?"

She nodded, transfixed. "It's... huge."

"Touch it," he said, stepping closer, the head inches from her face. "Feel how real it is."

Kat's hand trembled as she reached out, wrapping fingers around the shaft—barely closing around it. Hot, velvety skin over steel, pulsing under her grip. She stroked tentatively, then firmer, watching pre-cum bead at the tip. KC shifted, his own dick straining his jeans, but he stayed silent, as ordered.

"Good girl," Reggie murmured, his kind seduction shifting, voice rougher. "Now lick my balls. Taste what a real man's packing." He guided her head, and Kat leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at his heavy sack, salty and musky. She sucked one into her mouth, rolling it gently, while her hand pumped his cock. Reggie groaned, hand tangling in her hair. "Suck it now. Show your boy how you handle a big dick."

The shift hit her—slutty, objectified—but it ignited something feral. Kat opened wide, lips stretching around the head, tongue swirling the ridge. She bobbed, taking half his length, gagging slightly as he hit her throat. Reggie thrust shallowly, fucking her mouth with controlled power. "Look at that, KC," he said, turning his head. "You like seeing a black man use your girlfriend like this? Bet you've never made her gag like that."

KC's face burned, but he nodded, hand now openly rubbing his crotch. "Yes, sir."

Reggie smirked, pulling out with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting them. "She looks like a little slut for it, huh? Or is that just a big black cock thing?" He stroked himself, tapping the head against Kat's cheek. "Watch how much she wants it. Kat, tell him."

Kat, panting, eyes glazed, met KC's gaze. "I... I do. Fuck, it's so big."

"Want me to fuck your face?" Reggie asked her, but loud enough for KC.

"Yes," she breathed, opening up again. Reggie obliged, gripping her hair and sliding deep, her throat bulging as she took him. Tears pricked her eyes, but she sucked hungrily, hands on his thighs, feeling the power in his muscles.

After minutes of wet, sloppy face-fucking, Reggie pulled back, cock slick and shining. "Enough. You want this in your pussy, Kat? Stretching you wide?"

She hesitated, glancing at KC—his permission from earlier echoing—but the ache between her legs screamed yes. "I want you to fuck me."

Reggie grinned, scooping her up like she weighed nothing, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He carried her to the bed, depositing her on her back inches from KC, who scooted back but couldn't look away. Kat's pussy was splayed open, dripping onto the sheets. Reggie positioned between her thighs, rubbing his cock along her slit. "Beg for it, slut. Beg me to stretch that tight pussy."

"Please," Kat whimpered, hips bucking. "Fuck me, Reggie. Stretch me with that huge cock."

He pushed in slow, the head breaching her, inch after thick inch splitting her open. Kat cried out, nails digging into his arms—pain and pleasure blurring as he bottomed out, balls against her ass. "Fuck, you're tight," he growled, holding still to let her adjust. Then he started thrusting, deep and deliberate, her tits bouncing with each slam.

Kat moaned, lost in it, her body clenching around him. KC fumbled his pants open, stroking his smaller dick frantically, eyes locked on where Reggie disappeared inside her. "Watch your girl take it," Reggie taunted KC, pounding harder, the bed creaking. "She's creaming all over me—feel that pussy milking a real cock?"

The room filled with wet slaps, Kat's gasps turning to screams as Reggie hit her G-spot relentlessly. He flipped her onto all fours, facing KC, and reentered from behind, one hand spanking her ass red. "Come for me, Kat. Show him how I make you squirt."

She did, shattering around him, pussy gushing as orgasm ripped through her, soaking his balls. Reggie didn't stop, fucking her through it, then pulled out and flipped her again. "Gonna fill you up." Two more brutal thrusts, and he buried deep, cock pulsing as he came—hot ropes flooding her, mixing with her juices, leaking out around him.

Panting, Reggie withdrew, a creamy mess dripping from Kat's swollen pussy. KC jerked faster, spilling onto his hand with a groan, eyes never leaving the sight.

Reggie chuckled, grabbing a worn t-shirt from his drawer—oversized on him, comically short on Kat. "Put this on, beautiful. Go to the kitchen, grab me a water. Fridge is stocked." The shirt barely skimmed her ass, her pussy lips visible if she bent even slightly, cum trickling down her thighs.

Kat stood on shaky legs, the evidence of their fuck smeared on her skin. "Now?" she asked, half-laughing, half-mortified.

"Now." Reggie swatted her ass. "Let the boys see what a used slut looks like."

She padded out, the living room in view. The two gamers looked up as she passed—shirt riding up, thighs glistening with Reggie's load. "Damn," one whistled. "Reggie wreck you good?" The other laughed, pausing the game for a better look as she grabbed the water from the fridge, cum oozing further, a sticky trail down her calf. On the way back, they didn't hide their stares, one adjusting his obvious hard-on. "Come play later?" he joked.

Back in the bedroom, she handed Reggie the bottle, his arm snaking around her waist again. KC looked wrecked—aroused, humiliated, spent. Reggie pulled Kat onto the bed, kissing her deeply, possessive. "You were perfect," he murmured. Then to KC: "She's yours, man. But damn, you two needed this."

As they dressed, the tension from earlier dissolved into something electric. In the car, Kat laced fingers with KC. "That was... intense."

He grinned, the spark reignited. "Yeah. But we're good?"

"Better than good." She leaned over, kissing him. "Next time, maybe we pick the fantasy together."

Back home, they tumbled into bed, hands exploring with fresh hunger—Reggie's cum still faintly inside her, a secret reminder. KC ate her out, tasting the mix, and they fucked slow and deep, laughing between moans. The fizzle was gone; in its place, a fire that burned hotter, laced with the thrill of what they'd shared. Who knew a little showing off could rewrite their story?