“You know, it’s not that I don’t like your colleagues, it’s just...” Barry Watson trailed off, his voice echoing in the quiet house, “they’re doctors and nurses and such, and while I like that about them ... and about you, someone’s sure to use medical jargon or jokes that will make me feel like an idiot.”

Samira, his wife of two years, smiled at him, “Hey, I attend and I’m a Muslim. I think that you can handle some inside medical jokes. Trust me.”

“Honey, you’re about as Muslim as I’m a Christian. I mean, you married me and I’ve never seen you wear a hijab outside of some family events,” Barry teased his Lebanese wife.

Samira rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you know what I mean. Besides, I’ve told you before, I’m not that kind of Muslim.” She kissed his cheek, her dark hair brushing against his skin. “Now, put on that tie I got you and let’s go. It’s going to be a great night. See? It’s a clip-on. Don’t I know you or what? No choke-chains for you, baby.”

Barry took the tie from her hand, feeling the soft fabric and the weight of the little metal clip. He had to admit, it was a good choice for someone who didn’t like the choking effect of a proper necktie. He took a deep breath and followed her to the door. The party was being held at the hospital’s special events area, one thrown for every occasion that could ever be imagined for such a place. His wife was a registered nurse and knew all of the other nurses as well as the doctors and orderlies.

“So, I finally get to show off my husband, the chef,” Samira laughed as she climbed into the cab of his Ford F-150 with him, “my husband, the truck-driving chef. What a paradox!”

Barry chuckled, “I guess that’s me, the man of contradictions. But hey, you know I can make a mean baklava.”

“A major selling point for a Lebanese girl, that’s for sure,” Samira giggled.

Barry felt the tension in his chest ease slightly. He didn’t like parties much, especially not ones where he didn’t know anyone. But for Samira, he’d try. She had a way of making everything feel like an adventure, even if it was just a Christmas party at the hospital where she worked.

When they arrived at the party, Samira wasted no time pulling him around, introducing him to every person with a stethoscope or a pair of scrubs. She talked him up like he was a celebrity chef, which was a bit embarrassing, but also oddly flattering. She didn’t just introduce him as her husband, she introduced him as the love of her life, her rock, the man who could make a soufflé rise like no one else.

“So, this is the mystery man. The husband is real,” Priya, a sultry nurse with a distinct English accent that reflected her London upbringing, teased Samira, “and he’s white as fuck, too.”

Barry’s cheeks reddened as Samira squeezed his hand, “Pri, don’t start with that. I fell in love with a Presbyterian of Scots-Irish stock, not that he attends too many services.”

“And I fell for a Sunni Muslim from Beirut. What can I say?” Barry shrugged, “her family is still conflicted about him, for religious reasons, I think. I think that my shawarma is starting to win them over, though.”

“Well, when the shawarma is that fucking good, can you blame them?” Samira winked at him, “plus, half of my cousins are smitten with him, including two male ones.”

Barry raised an eyebrow at her, “Two? You didn’t tell me that before.”

“They’re gay or bi or something, but I’m not worried about them. If I should worry about anyone, it would be my cousin, Maryam. She’s almost my identical twin,” Samira teased him.

Barry chuckled, “There’s no cause for worry, babe.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might try to steal you myself,” Priya joked.

Barry felt the room spin slightly, not just from the sudden influx of medical jargon and inside jokes, but also from the drinks that were starting to flow freely. He’d only had one whiskey sour, but he wasn’t used to the hard stuff as much. Too many dry family gatherings with his teetotaling in-laws, he supposed.

“You don’t need to steal him. I might just share him,” Samira told her with a wink.

Barry’s eyes grew wide, and he stumbled over his words, “What? I-I didn’t know that was an option.”

“Oh, that depends, honey. I’m a bit of a show-off, you know,” Samira told him with a kiss, hanging onto him for dear life and to his every word.

“Damn, she really does think that you’ve hung the moon. I wish that I were in your shoes,” Dr. Hayden Thompson approached them now.

Barry nodded awkwardly at the doctor, feeling the whiskey swirl in his stomach, “Yeah, I guess I’m a lucky guy.”

“Hayden, I told you, the only way that you’ll ever get into my scrubs is if Barry goes for a devil’s threesome,” Samira laughed.

Barry choked on his drink, his eyes watering, “You did not!”

“I might have been a little buzzed on wine and hashish at the last party, but sure,” Samira confessed, “I had to set clear boundaries, so I did. If we ever stray, I want it to be together, not behind each other’s backs.”

Barry’s mind was racing, trying to keep up with the conversation, which was getting more and more heated, in a good way. He had never felt so desired, so ... alive. The room was spinning in a delightful way, and he couldn’t help but lean into the flirtatious banter.

“What about sharing again?” Dr. Wendy Morgan interjected, her eyes flashing with obvious lust for both Barry ... and Samira.

Samira’s eyes grew mischievous, “Wendy, you know I can’t resist a good dare. But only if you promise to play nice with the new toy,” she whispered, her hand sliding down to squeeze Barry’s thigh, “I’m a horrible excuse for a Muslim girl. I’ll probably end up in Hell.”

Wendy leaned closer, her breath hot on Barry’s ear, “Oh, I’ll play nice ... until you tell me to stop.”

Barry felt his heart thumping in his chest as Samira’s grip on his leg tightened. Her eyes searched his, looking for a hint of his thoughts. He swallowed hard, the whiskey burning his throat as he contemplated another drink.

“Go for it, baby. I’ll be your designated driver, hon. I’ve been eager to drive your truck and that will give me an excuse,” Samira told him, mixing him the whiskey sour herself.

Barry took another sip, the room spinning slightly, especially as more and more co-workers of his wife’s made a fuss about him, several of them, including two male nurses, even flirting brazenly with him. It was ... both very flattering and very disconcerting. He didn’t know what to make of it all. It was ... much looser than what he expected, more like the restaurant’s office parties than he expected, but then, he had expected more geekiness about medical stuff than occurred. The majority of the jokes were risqué rather than vocational or high-brow in nature.

“You okay, babe?” Samira whispered in his ear, her breath warm and sweet, smelling faintly of mint from the candy cane she’d been sucking on.

“It’s just ... not what I expected. It’s a lot like the bistro’s Christmas parties, and you’ve been to those ... you know what they’re like. Suggestive jokes, flirty, bawdy discourse, puns about food and sex. Here ... I just thought that it would a lot of geeking out on medical stuff. People must really want to escape the work for a while, I guess,” Barry remarked.

Samira leaned into him, her warmth pressing against his side, “You know, I might have had a hand in that. I told them to ease up on the hospital talk, just to make it more comfortable for you. You’re a chef, not a doctor. You don’t need to know the difference between a catheter and a scalpel,” she whispered, her hand moving up his thigh, “unless you’re planning on playing doctor with me tonight. As for culinary matters, you’re welcome to dine on Priya. Some of them, to be fair, including me, do want a break from remembering the patients that died on the operating table or threw up all over the lobby.”

Barry chuckled, his nerves slightly calmed by her reassurance. He took another sip of his drink, feeling the buzz grow stronger. The party was in full swing now, with laughter and music filling the air. The lights were dimmed, and the decorations twinkled around them, casting a warm, festive glow on the faces of the people dancing.

“Come on, let’s get you on the dance floor,” Samira said, pulling him away from the bar, “I want to dance with my handsome husband, right where everyone can see us together and know that we’re a couple.”

Barry felt his heart race as he let her lead him into the throng of bodies moving to the beat. He didn’t know the song, some pop hit from a few years ago that had been given a Christmas twist, but he didn’t care. He was too busy focusing on the way Samira’s hips swayed in her tight, green dress, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. She danced with an infectious energy, her smile bright and welcoming, as she even twerked against him, much to his surprise ... and arousal.

The whiskey had him feeling loose, and before he knew it, he was moving with her, their bodies in sync despite the chaos around them. The way she ground against him, her hand sliding to the small of his back, had him forgetting about his earlier dread of the evening. This was his kind of party, after all.

“Nurse Watson, are you trying to get me drunk just to take advantage of me?” Barry teased her now.

Samira leaned in closer, her breasts brushing against his chest, “Oh, honey, I don’t need alcohol for that,” she whispered, her teeth grazing his earlobe.

“That’s for damn sure,” Barry admitted, “just the feeling of your ass against my groin.”

Samira looked up at him with a smoldering gaze, “It’s not just my ass you should be worried about,” she murmured, her hand slipping to cup him firmly through his pants, “it’s what I’ve got in mind for later.”

With a wink, she spun away from him and into the arms of Dr. Wendy Morgan, who had been watching them with a knowing smile. The two women began to dance together, their bodies moving in a way that was both sensual and playful. Barry couldn’t help but watch as Samira whispered something into Wendy’s ear, making her laugh and nod. He felt a sudden thrill shoot through him, a mix of excitement and trepidation. He’d never seen Samira act so brazenly in public before, but he had to admit, it was turning him on, perhaps because she had made it abundantly clear that she was with him and that any straying would be with his consent as well as hers.

Barry took a deep breath, feeling the heat of the room and the whiskey pulsing through his veins. He looked over to where Priya was standing, her dark eyes meeting his with an unmistakable invitation. He swallowed hard, his palms suddenly sweaty. Was this really happening? Was his usually shy and conservative wife setting up a ... a ... whatever this was?

Samira’s laughter reached him, mingling with the pulsing bass of the music, as she danced with Dr. Morgan, her body moving in a way that was definitely not just friendly. They were grinding against each other, hands roving in a way that left no room for doubt. And she was encouraging him to do the same with Priya? She looked at Barry and mouthed, “Do it.”

Barry’s heart pounded in his chest as he turned to look at Priya, who was watching him with a knowing smile. She took his hand and led him to the dance floor, her hips already moving in time to the music. Her touch was electric, and he couldn’t help but let her lead, his body responding to the beat and the heat of her nearness.

“Samira’s bragged about you so much I figured that you couldn’t exist in the flesh, but here you are, not just a figment of her imagination, after all. A real life, in person, executive chef who makes her eyes dance and her face blush like she’s at a spelling bee or about to ask a guy out to a Sadie Hawkins dance,” Priya told him, “here, see how Wendy’s hands are on her ass ... put yours on mine, please.”

Barry was shocked but did as instructed. He didn’t know where this was going, but he had to admit that he liked the feeling of Priya’s ass in his hands. It was firm and round, and she pushed back against him, grinding against his crotch. The whiskey had loosened his inhibitions and he let out a low moan. Samira’s eyes locked onto his, and he could see the excitement in them. She was watching him, watching them, and it was like she was egging him on. He didn’t know if this was a test or a gift, but he was going to roll with it.

The music grew louder, the bass pounding through the floor as they danced. Priya’s hands roamed up his chest, her nails lightly scratching his skin. He felt his cock swell in his pants, and he knew that he was going to have to adjust himself if he didn’t want to be embarrassed.

Samira, seemingly reading his thoughts, leaned in and whispered, “Why don’t you take a little break, baby? There’s an empty room just down the hall. I’ll meet you there in a few.” She kissed him, her tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip before pulling away, leaving him with a trail of her perfume and a raging hard-on.

Barry nodded, his heart racing as he made his way through the crowd, the music growing fainter as he approached the side room. He pushed the door open, the darkness enveloping him like a warm blanket. The air was thick with anticipation, and he could feel his body responding to the unknown. He waited, his breathing shallow, and then he heard the sound of footsteps, the soft click of the door shutting, and the rustle of fabric.

Suddenly, there were warm, soft lips around his cock, and he gasped, his hand shooting out to steady himself against the wall. He didn’t need to see to know it was Samira; the way she took him in her mouth was unmistakable, the gentle scrape of her teeth, the way she swirled her tongue around the tip. He leaned back, his eyes rolling back in his head, as she took him deeper, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. Then he felt his body being moved to a table, and his cock slid into a warm, wet opening, clearly not his wife’s, as her mouth was now on his balls.

The lights flickered on, and he blinked, his vision swimming with desire and surprise. Dr. Morgan was on her hands and knees in front of him, her ass in the air, and her tight, puckered anus staring at him like a forbidden fruit. His cock was currently buried inside her pussy and then he felt a second pair of lips on him, licking his taint. It was Priya.

He had never felt so alive, so ... dominant. It was a heady feeling, one that was completely unexpected but utterly exhilarating. Samira looked up at him from her position, her eyes gleaming with excitement and a challenge. He took a deep breath, trying to get his bearings.

And then, as if the universe had decided to up the ante on this wild ride, Dr. Hayden Thompson strode into the room. He was a tall, muscular man with a smirk that was half-playful, half-predatory. Without a word, he moved in front of Dr. Morgan, unbuckling his belt with a swiftness that spoke of confidence and experience. She began eagerly sucking him as her eyes winked at Barry. Then Samira looked at him with pleading eyes, seeking his blessing before he nodded it, after which she began licking Wendy’s ass in front of him.

Barry’s cock was already rock-hard, and the sight of his wife with another woman was more arousing than he could have ever imagined. He watched, transfixed, as Hayden’s cock grew before his eyes, the doctor’s hand moving to caress Samira’s cheek as she worked her tongue and mouth on his shaft. Samira looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. He knew he was about to experience something he never would have thought possible, something that was going to push the boundaries of their relationship in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

And then, without warning, he felt something cold and hard press against his anus, and his eyes snapped back to Priya. She had pulled out a strap-on from under her dress, and with a wicked grin, she began to push it into him. He gasped, the suddenness of it making him stumble slightly. Samira’s hand was there, steadying him, her eyes never leaving his as she watched him take in this new sensation.

“Priya’s been a good influence on me ... or perhaps a wicked one. What do you think?” Samira told him as she kept rimming Wendy, who sucked Dr. Thompson like it was going out of style.

Barry could only whimper as the cold, plastic cock pressed into his anus, the lube already warming up as Priya began to fuck him in earnest. It was a strange feeling, one that he’d never experienced before, but with the whiskey and the arousal, it didn’t take much for him to get used to it. The sensation was intense, and he found himself pushing back against her, eager for more.

“This is the second-best form of buggery. The best will be when you return the favour and slam my arse with your thick cock!” Priya told him with a husky whisper as he continued to fuck Dr. Wendy Morgan, whose pubic hair proved that she was indeed a natural redhead.

Barry could feel himself getting lost in the moment, his body responding to the new sensations as if it had been waiting for this all along. Samira’s eyes never left his, full of love and excitement. He could feel her pride in pushing him to new heights, in watching him explore this taboo. His own cock was balls deep inside Wendy, who pushed back hungrily at him and at Samira, enjoying both him and his wife. She also swallowed Dr. Thompson’s load, at which point he went over to Samira and spread her cheeks, daring her to stop him.

“I just want to do to you what you’re doing to Wendy, with your husband’s consent, of course, as well as yours,” Hayden Thompson, M.D. reassured her now, “I’ve wanted to taste that sweet Lebanese ass of yours for eternity now.”

Samira looked at Barry, her eyes searching for his reaction. The room was spinning a bit, but he could see the excitement in her gaze, the challenge. Was she really okay with this? He took a deep breath, feeling his heart hammer in his chest. He’d never been a swinger, never thought he would be, but the whiskey and the situation had him feeling ... adventurous.

“Do it ... kiss and lick my wife’s ass, Doctor,” Barry encouraged him, finding the idea rather tantalizing, in fact.

Thompson’s smirk grew wider as he knelt down, spreading her cheeks further apart and diving in to dine on her butt. Samira’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as he began to lick her, and she let out a low moan. The room was spinning, but the sensation was too intense for Barry to care. The whiskey had him feeling brave and he watched as Samira leaned back into the doctor’s touch, moaning into Wendy’s ass as she did so.

“Oh, baby, you like that, don’t you?” Barry murmured, his hand sliding down to caress her breast while still humping Dr. Morgan as his wife rimmed her.

“Mmhmm,” Samira managed to reply, her voice muffled by her mouthful of Dr. Morgan’s ass.

Barry felt a thrill run through him as he watched his wife’s cheeks flush with arousal, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. The sight was intoxicating, and he found himself thrusting harder into Wendy, his hips moving almost involuntarily as the situation grew more intense. The room was a blur of bodies and sounds, the smells of sex and desire mingling with the faint scent of antiseptic from the hospital.

Priya took the cue, her pace increasing as she drove into him with renewed vigor, her hand now reaching around to grip and tug at his balls, rolling them gently in her hand. The sensation was intense, bordering on pain, but it only served to fuel his arousal. He groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the table tightly as he felt the beginnings of an orgasm building in his core.

Then, as the crescendo of pleasure grew within him, Dr. Morgan looked over her shoulders at him with a desperate gaze, her eyes wide and needy. She whispered something that Barry could hardly make out over the pounding bass of the music, but it was clear from her tone that she was begging. He leaned closer, his cock still buried deep within her, trying to decipher her words through the haze of his own desire.

“Please, Barry ... please breed me,” she panted, her voice thick with lust.

Barry looked at her, the alcohol making the situation seem both unreal and incredibly erotic. The idea of his cock releasing its load inside a woman who wasn’t Samira was shocking, but the raw need in Dr. Morgan’s eyes was impossible to ignore. He could feel the heat building, his body screaming for release. With a nod, he thrust deep into her one last time before letting go, filling her up with his hot seed. She clenched around him, her own orgasm crashing over her, her body shaking with pleasure.

As he pulled out, Samira winked at him, her own arousal clear as she licked her lips, “Well, it looks like you might have just made a little doctor’s baby,” she said, her voice low and filled with mischief, “here, let me taste her on you.”

Barry watched, his chest heaving, as his wife took his cock into her mouth, cleaning off the evidence of his conquest with a fervor that had him growing hard again. He had never seen her like this, so wild and uninhibited. It was like the party atmosphere had unlocked a side of her that he never knew existed. And as she sucked him clean, he couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the idea that he might have just impregnated Dr. Morgan.

“Salty, but good,” his wife told him before pulling Wendy up for a steamy, lesbian kiss.

Barry’s brain was still trying to process everything. Had he just...? The whiskey had made the night feel like a wild, sexy dream. But as he watched Samira and Wendy’s tongues dance together, the stickiness between his legs and the smell of sex in the air assured him it was all too real. Then he felt Dr. Thompson sucking his cock, even as Priya pulled out of him and sucked his balls.

“Samira, is she ... is it true?” he managed to ask, his voice thick with lust and shock.

“Yes, and now it’s Priya’s turn. Priya, baby, don’t hold back. Hayden, I don’t think that my ass is done with your tongue yet,” Samira said, as Priya removed the strap-on and thigh harness to offer herself to him in the same position.

Barry’s cock was still semi-hard from the intense encounter, but it grew to full mast as he watched the dark-haired beauty spread her thighs and lie face down on the table, presenting him with a choice of holes.

“Do it, honey. Fuck her ass, please. She really wants it in the ass, don’t you, sweetie?” Priya said as Dr. Thompson rimmed her and Wendy put on the thigh harness.

“You don’t mind if I fuck you while you’re fucking Priya, do you?” Wendy whispered as she went behind Barry to peg him.

Barry looked down at Priya’s ass, then over his shoulder at his wife, who was now being rimmed by Dr. Thompson again. “No, go ahead,” he managed to say, his voice a low growl of need.

Priya’s tight asshole was beckoning, and he couldn’t resist. He lined up his cock and pushed in, feeling her tense around him for just a moment before she relaxed and began to moan. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before—slick and warm and oh so wrong, but oh so right in this twisted hospital Christmas party.

“You’re so good at this, Barry,” she murmured, her voice a sultry purr that sent shivers down his spine.

He took another deep breath, the scent of sex in the air making him feel like he could take on the world. He grabbed onto Priya’s hips and began to thrust into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. Dr. Morgan’s hand snaked around his waist, her nails digging into his skin as she began to fuck him with the strap-on, matching his rhythm.

Barry’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt the pressure building again. It was too much, too intense. He looked over at Samira, who now sucked Dr. Thompson, ghosting a question to her husband. He nodded and Samira bent over to let Dr. Thompson invade her ass, sodomizing her at last.

“I can’t let him go in my pussy, because I want our son to resemble you,” Samira told him with another wink now.

Barry couldn’t believe his ears. He was fucking a woman who was not his wife, and his wife was not only okay with it, but actively encouraging it. As he pumped into Priya’s ass, he felt Dr. Morgan’s strap-on pushing into him, filling him up and sending waves of pleasure through his body. The feeling of being taken, being used by these powerful, beautiful women, was something he never knew he craved,

“Works for me ... I’ve wanted your sweet ass for a while now, anyway,” Dr. Thompson smiled as he buggered Samira.

Barry watched in amazement as his wife took the doctor’s cock, her eyes never leaving his. He felt a strange mix of emotions—shock, arousal, love—as he continued to pound into Priya. The room was spinning, the whiskey and the intense pleasure making it difficult to think straight. But he knew that this was a night he would never forget, a night that would change their marriage forever.

As he approached climax, he heard Samira’s guttural moans growing louder, her body tensing around Dr. Thompson’s shaft. He knew she was close, and the sight of her being fucked by another man only served to drive him further over the edge. He gripped Priya’s hips tightly, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Do it ... cum in my bum. Flood my bloody bowels!” Priya sounded very British as she begged him to fill her ass with his hot jizz.

Barry’s body took over, his hips moving of their own accord as he pumped into her, feeling the warmth of her insides tightening around him. The pressure grew until it was unbearable, and with a roar, he came, filling her ass with his seed. The feeling was indescribable, and he collapsed against her, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

Wendy pulled out of him, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she kissed him hard on the mouth, her tongue probing his, tasting the remnants of whiskey and lust. Meanwhile, Samira and Dr. Thompson reached their own peak, their bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs and sweat. Dr. Thompson’s cock slid out of Samira’s bottom with a wet pop, and she turned to Barry, her eyes alight with passion.

“So, you’re not going to skip any more of these parties again, are you, honey?” Samira leaned in to make out with him.

Barry, still trying to catch his breath, chuckled and kissed her back, the taste of Dr. Morgan’s hot lips and Dr. Thompson’s snowball still faintly lingering on his tongue. “I guess not,” he admitted with a saucy grin.

“Thought not,” Samira said, “oh, and Dr. Wendy Morgan here invited us to come live with her. It seems that she wants her baby daddy to hang around.”

Barry’s eyes widened as he pulled away from Samira’s kiss, looking over at Dr. Morgan who was still panting heavily, a look of pure euphoria on her face. She gave him a knowing smile, and he felt his heart skip a beat. This was definitely not how he’d pictured his evening going, but somehow, it all felt surprisingly ... right.

“I’m sure that the apartment above your bistro is charming and cozy and all, but it’s time to become a family. And families require larger lodgings. By the way, Samira is fertile tonight, too, so the siblings will get to hopefully grow up together ... as a family. I won’t charge rent, but I will want you not to be a stranger. I want you to attend birthing classes with both baby mamas, lamaze, etc. And be there for the births, if that’s alright with you,” Dr. Morgan told him, kissing him as Priya now sucked on Dr. Thompson, tasting Samira’s ass on him.

Barry felt his head spin even faster at the thought of moving in with Dr. Morgan and raising their children together, but the warmth and acceptance in the room washed over him like a comforting blanket. He looked at Samira, who kissed him harder than ever and whispered, “This isn’t a one-time thing. Every time that Dr. Morgan gets ready to conceive, she wants you to breed her. Period. End of story.”

Priya pulled away from Dr. Thompson, a strand of saliva connecting her lips to his cock, and she looked at Barry with a look of pure lust and love. “And don’t you dare forget me, darling. You’re going to fill me with your baby batter until I’m as pregnant as these two,” she said, gesturing to Samira and Dr. Morgan.

“Don’t look at me. I had a vasectomy once my last daughter was born,” Dr. Thompson grinned, “I couldn’t do it, whether I wanted to or not.”

Barry laughed, his mind racing with the implications of what had just been proposed. He’d never imagined living with his wife’s colleagues in a polyamorous relationship, much less raising children with them. But as he looked into Samira’s eyes, he saw the excitement and love reflected back at him, and he knew he couldn’t say no.

“Priya can’t move in with us, mind you. She’s been Dr. Thompson’s live-in girlfriend ever since his divorce and hers,” Samira explained now, “but she does want babies, and the good doctor is willing to let her have one the old-fashioned way ... with certain conditions, such as tonight.”

Barry nodded, still trying to keep up with the whirlwind of events. His mind was racing with questions, but his body was still buzzing from the intense sexual encounter. He knew he was in way over his head, but he also knew that he couldn’t walk away from this. He loved Samira too much, and the idea of being a part of something so ... unconventional ... was too tantalizing to resist.