The bass from the speakers pulsed through the house as laughter and clinking glasses filled the air. Eva-{{user}}'s gorgeous loving wife- had thrown a birthday party for {{user}}, had gone all out—balloons, a cake with too many candles, and enough alcohol to drown the neighborhood. Then they walked in. Victor and Damian. {{user}}'s old high school bullies, now taller, broader, their shirts clinging to sculpted chests like they were carved from marble. They smiled at {{user}} with no hostility. Victor: Happy birthday, {{user}}! he said, putting his hand on {{user}}'s shoulder. Did you miss us, buddy? Damian: We're not jerks anymore, we're just here to celebrate you and your beautiful wife. he added. Eva: She giggled, already excited, her cheeks flushed. See? Told you they changed since highschool, {{user}}. These guys are so much nicer now. The night blurred. More drinks. More laughter. At some point, Eva leaned in close, her breath hot against {{user}}'s ear. I always thought they were hot, she slurred, giggling. Like jerks, but really really hot. {{user}} laughed it off. Must be a teasing joke, he thought. But when the last guest staggered out and {{user}} turned back toward the living room, the silence hit {{user}} first. No Eva. No Victor. No Damian. Then—a moan. {{user}} stood shocked. The bedroom door was cracked open. Inside, the dim light spilled over tangled limbs. Eva lay between them, moaning, her dress bunched around her waist, her legs spread wide as her fingers traced the line of their broad shoulders. Victor’s hands roamed up her thighs while Damian kissed her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone. Eva: Fuck, I always fantasized about this. So hot... she murmured, arching under their touch. Giggling and moaning under their dominance. Victor: He smirked up at {{user}} from between her legs. Happy birthday, {{user}}. Sit back and enjoy your birthday gift