by Sierra Brave
Triple Passion Play, Book 1
Sierra Brave Published: 2016
Copyright © Published: Published: 2016, Sierra Brave.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Manufactured in the USA
Blurb
Lifelong best friends, Tommy Marks and Ken Davidson prepare to ride out the storm with Trisha Harper, the woman both men adore. Determine to preserve their friendship, the men cling to a gentleman’s agreement, promising neither will make a move on her but can such a pact be upheld in the eye of the storm? With both men teetering between desire and the fear of rejection and loss, Trisha has no wish to break up the dynamic duo. For her, it’s all or nothing and she’s determined to have Tommy and devour Ken too.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter One
September 5, 1996, 2:00 p.m.
* * * * *
SOAKING wet and shivering, Thomas Marks kicked the door closed behind him as he entered his apartment, his arms full of grocery bags, including a large bag of ice. Small and shabby, the living room never felt particularly welcoming even on the best of days, but today, he couldn’t find anything to love about his living-space. The small area’s one charm, the sliding glass door where the afternoon sun poured through when the weather was nice, only presented dangers created by the storm currently raging outside. Tommy jerked his head in the direction of a loud crash and marveled at the accompanying streak of lightning. For a fleeting second, the brilliance shined over the dull beige surrounding him on every wall but soon faded back into the enduring dreariness. Add the empty stillness and unsettling silence and he might as well have been taking a midnight stroll through a cemetery. Fitting, since the imminent arrival of a hurricane had him seriously contemplating his mortality. Why is it so damn quiet? Where’s Ken?
Sighing, he wiped his feet on the square mat laid out on the tiny stretch of linoleum that passed for a foyer before stepping onto the ragged, old red carpet mocking him wall-to-wall throughout the rental he shared with his best friend. What a dump—at least the place was cheap and conveniently located within walking distance of their university and only a ten-minute drive to the coast.
He hustled to the small kitchen where he plopped the ice down in the sink and set the grocery bags on the circa 1980, white, Formica countertop. The coffeepot, toaster, and drying rack took up most of the space, but he found the room for a few bags before limply shaking his hands and arms in an attempt to knock off some of the rain coating his skin the way condensation swarms a cup of iced tea. He leaned over the sink, grabbing a handful of his dripping-wet, chin-length hair and wringing the excess water into the basin. His soggy clothing stuck to his clammy skin, weighing him down, and his drenched flip flops made a squishing sound with his every step. He shivered, his entire body quaking. This sucks!
He left the haul of snacks and beverages behind, hurrying into his bedroom before he schlepped over to the adjoining bathroom he shared with Ken Davidson. After opening the shower’s glass door, he reached inside, turning on the water and allowing it to heat up as he stripped naked. While he pivoted to the side, he checked out his profile in the mirror before turning face-forward to preen some more. He placed a finger between his sculpted pectorals, tracing the line of definition down over his rock-solid abdominals and further to his taut navel. Not bad. Years of playing every sport he could had put him in peak condition. He turned around, looking over his shoulder while shaking his money-maker in the mirror. He laughed to himself as he moved toward the shower and stepped inside.
Tommy closed his eyes, grateful for the warmth as the water rushed over him and rained down his back. He grabbed a bar of soap and built a lather between his hands. Although he’d already bathed that morning, he figured a second shower wouldn’t be a bad thing. When Trisha showed up to weather the storm with him and Ken, he couldn’t greet her looking like a drowned rat or smelling like a wet dog. For a second, he considered using Ken’s special, lavender hair and body wash. Supposedly, the scent had aromatherapy benefits. Ken swore he used the scented cleanser on his doctor’s recommendation to prevent itching caused by dry scalp and skin. Tommy tapped a finger on the bottle. Ken probably wouldn’t mind if I used a little.
After scrubbing his body with the soap, he used the bath brush to wash his back and the bottoms of his feet before he clicked open Ken’s hair-and-body wash and held the opening up to his nose, closing his eyes as he breathed in the fragrance. Interestingly enough, the scent was oddly calming. He would use only a dab for his hair, but maybe the fragrance would settle the jitters he had been feeling all day.
Twisters tended to be an issue in northern Texas where he and Ken were raised, but he had never experienced a hurricane until moving to a small coastal town to attend school at a university located just outside of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. He lost his tropical storm virginity to Arthur last June, but luckily moderate surf and light rain had been the worst Arthur had to offer. The following month, Hurricane Bertha’s intense winds threatened to topple them but spared their community when she made landfall farther north between Wrightsville Beach and Topsail Island. Tommy barely had time to catch his breath before Hurricane Edouard showed up, but fortunately, Edouard only amounted to a bit of high surf.
Today, Tommy stared down the imminent arrival of Fran, a hurricane in a whole other class. Already, her large swells had required a daring rescue by the coastguard further down the Atlantic seashore and she was still gaining momentum. Her fierce winds swayed trees, and she had already dumped enough heavy rains on them for a flash flood watch to be issued. He prayed Fran would dwindle away, but if the third time was the charm, the odds weren’t in his favor. Tommy understood tornados were equally as dangerous as hurricanes but something about the image of a funnel cloud rising from the ocean like a Kraken bent on destruction sent a hundred ice-cold pinpricks right up his spine.
Ken had shown little emotion in regards to the storm, but his perpetual stone-faced demeanor wouldn’t allow any signs of fear to crack through, regardless of what he was actually feeling. Trisha had an entirely different attitude, leaning much closer to unbridled aggravation than anxiety or fear. Rather than preparing for the worst, she had been too busy bitching about her tennis shoes being soaked through to her socks.
She’s too stubborn for her own good! Tommy admired her tenacity, but today her strong-willed behavior had been driving him nuts. His nostrils flared as he recalled her refusal to call in sick to work even though he had called her early in the morning and practically begged her not to go. Trisha insisted people were going to need their bread and milk and someone had to be at the Pick-and-Save to ring up their purchases. He frowned, shaking his head. Why does it have to be her?
After squirting a dollop of Ken’s shampoo into his hand,
Tommy rubbed his palms together before scrubbing his wavy blond locks, bleached bright platinum by many sunny afternoons spent at the beach. After rinsing until he was fresh and squeaky clean, he turned off the water and looked up to where he hung his…Ah, shit! He had forgotten to grab a towel. Ken was going to fuss at him for getting the floor wet again. Oh well, he had survived all of Ken’s tirades up until now. What was one more?
He hopped out onto the bathmat and reached over to the shelf that held their towels, grabbing the top one and pulling it to himself with a short yank. Thick and blue, the material’s white seashell pattern made the terrycloth towels perfect for home or the beach. He dried his face first and then rubbed the towel over his hair before drying his body and putting on his deodorant and cologne. Vainly, he smiled at himself in the mirror, raising and lowering his light brown eyebrows a couple of times.
Pretending both of his thumbs and forefingers were guns, he pointed at his reflection, wiggling his fingers in self-adulation before snickering at his behavior. Looking down at his cock, he offered an apologetic squeeze. “Sorry, big guy. I know it’s been a while, but I can’t go sticking you anywhere tight, wet, attractive, and willing anymore. Trish might think I’m a man-whore.”
He sighed, bemoaning the nearly six-month, self-imposed dry spell he was enduring—the longest he had ever gone taking care of business on his own since becoming sexually active. If it wasn’t Trisha, he wasn’t interested. She had wiggled her round, little booty into his heart, capturing him slowly and subtly before he even realized what was happening. Her smile, her sense of humor, and the way she fit into his world even better than a glove—he had never stood a chance.
After returning his attention to the mirror, Tommy began his skin regime, slathering his face with expensive, department store moisturizer, using both hands on each side of his rugged jawline. Moving on to pamper his body, he looked in the cabinet where he kept his lotion, but the container wasn’t in the usual spot. He scanned the area again and looked around in the other cabinets and drawers but still couldn’t find the blue tube. Maybe Ken had borrowed it.
He wrapped his damp towel around his hips before he reached for the doorknob. Wait, maybe I better knock. Ken could have a girl in there…Pfft, yeah, right.
As handsome as he was, Ken wasn’t so good with the ladies. A lot of girls wanted a first date, but obtaining a second date, assuming he even wanted one, often proved far more difficult. If not for the generous ladies who were down for one-nighters, that guy would have to endure some serious dry spells. While pushing the door open, Tommy strode into Ken’s room without being noticed.
A grin spread across Tommy’s face and his eyes widened as he caught Ken in the act. His usually vigilant pal was too wrapped up in the hentai video he was watching to notice the intrusion—fucking anime porn! Really?
Staying as silent as he could, Tommy scooted along the side of the wall until he stood parallel to the foot of Ken’s double bed. His shirtless buddy was sitting on the edge of the mattress with his gym shorts and underwear down around his ankles and his hand wrapped around his fully erect cock. Tommy smirked. No wonder he needed my lotion.
While covering his mouth with his palm, Tommy struggled not to make any noise but a gasp and a snicker were both sticking in the back of his throat. Ken’s masturbating wasn’t surprising or funny—he would be abnormal if he didn’t. But a prodigy like Ken forgetting to secure the bathroom entrance to his bedroom struck Tommy as hilarious and he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to get an honest reaction from his best buddy. Tommy held his breath for as long as he could, finally choking out the lowest cough he could. Did I…Shit!
Ken’s eyes flew open and he turned toward Tommy. Ken shook his head, displacing his heavy, long and wispy black bangs from in front of his eyes before he held Tommy in a dead stare. “Dude, just what the fuck are you doing?”
Tommy studied Ken’s expression, finding his buddy’s gray eyes filled mostly with annoyance rather than anger or embarrassment. Oh well, at least Tommy didn’t have to hold back his laughter anymore. He grabbed his stomach, belly-laughing so hard he lost his towel. “Sorry! I came in here to see if you had my lotion, and I was just waiting to make sure you were done using it.” Tommy hooted some more as he pointed to the tube on the bed next to where Ken sat.
Ken, who hadn’t even bothered to let go of his dick, rolled his eyes and tightened his wide-set jaw a hair, but otherwise, he showed little to no emotion. “Shut up…like you don’t jerk off in the shower every morning, and could you please put on some fucking pants?” After turning his attention back toward the television, Ken hit the pause button on the remote control.
Tommy, still snickering, bent his knees low enough to reach down and grab the towel off the floor before holding the terrycloth fabric in front of his dick without wrapping it around his body. Slowly, he shuffled forward a couple of steps, a mischievous grin turning up his lips. “Whatcha’ watching?”
Ken shot him a sideways glance for a blip but wasted no time redirecting his concentration to his cartoon porn. A nostalgic sense of déjà vu dawned on Tommy. He and Ken had been best friends since they were in diapers, and the situation he found himself in with wasn’t entirely unfamiliar territory.
As Tommy shuffled closer, Ken sighed, scooting over on the bed to make room while shaking his head. “Seriously, what are we in middle school, circling around a dirty movie to jerk off?”
Tommy scrunched up his nose while curving his mouth into a tight-lipped smile and shrugging. “Why not?” After folding the towel, he placed the covering over the comforter at the foot of the bed, leaving about a foot of space between Ken and himself when he sat down and squirted a quarter-sized amount of lotion into his hand. “This probably isn’t such a bad idea with Trisha coming over, especially if we are all going to be drinking. I don’t want to be popping a boner all night.”
“Whatever.” Ken’s gaze stuck to the onscreen action like glue while he stroked his cock. The two animated nurses on screen had been drawn with cute faces, large eyes, and even bigger tits pressing up against the plunging neckline of their form-fitting, pink uniforms. The cartoon vixens kissed while rolling all over each other and stripping off their clothes. Huge, incredibly unrealistic-sized boobs were exposed as the two fondled each other. The shorter of the two slurped on her coworker’s round, protruding nipple while the taller girl slipped a hand down the other girl’s panties. Tommy’s hand moved steadily up and down his shaft. It never ceases to amaze me how little it takes to get off when I take care of business on my own and don’t have to hold back. This is a cartoon for crying out loud, but my rod is already starting to twitch in my hand.
Having moved on to eating each other’s pussies in the sixty-nine position, the nurses moaned seductively. Oh, there we go! I’m close. His lips parted and his eyelids lowered as his breathing became ragged. While palming over the head and then all the way to the hilt, he let out a groan as the surging began. Here it comes. Just a few more strokes and Geronimo! A ribbon of white fluid shot out, squirting into the free hand he had cupped by the hole, and running down his palm.
“Whoa! That felt good.” He chuckled as he stood up and grabbed his towel. After wiping his hands, Tommy mopped up the cream left on his body before glancing over at Ken. No fucking way! He still hasn’t come? That’s crazy.
Ken was really going at it, though. He had to be about to reach his conclusion. While handling his erection with care, Ken circled his fingers around his veiny shaft and jerked his fist up and down. Ken panted, his mouth slightly open, exposing his tongue while his cheeks blazed with a honey glow.
Curious, Tommy turned his focus away from Ken’s face and toward his friend’s erect penis. He hadn’t seen Ken’s cock in years. The color was different from his own with a slightly darker shaft and a smooth, round head that was purplish rather than the ruddy reddish cap that crowned Tommy’s staff. Ken’s shape was interesting, appealing even, with its slight upward curve, but Tommy coul
dn’t help but smirk. Mine’s bigger.
Ken was no slouch. With his skin stretched tense, his dick stood about seven and a half to eight inches long, but Tommy’s ten-inch monster still had him beat. Dragging his front teeth over his bottom lip, Tommy bit down lightly. Thirty-seconds—he made a bet with himself on how long it would take Ken to come. While keeping watch, Tommy silently counted the seconds. Ken’s body began to tremble as he slid his free hand down below his jolting cock, reaching between his open legs to fondle his sack. As he caressed the soft, tender skin, lightly fingering over the two egg-shaped jewels hidden within, Ken’s eyes rolled back and his balls constricted as he released a strained groan. Moaning again, louder this time, Ken bucked his hips. Tommy held his breath, on pins and needles to find out how long Ken could keep going.
“Ah!” Ken panted as his cock reacted to the stimulation, surprising Tommy by standing a hair taller. Ken smelled of lavender. He had likely finished bathing right before Tommy returned home. An orgasmic groan coming from the television drew Tommy’s notice in time for him to witness a man in a white coat join the cartoon nurses who started sucking his dick. Tommy’s shaft started to rebound as memories of an unforgettable blowjob swirled in his head. The amazing feat happened during a one-night stand his freshman year, and for a long time after that evening, he wished he had gotten that girl’s name and number. Unfortunately, they had both been pretty drunk, and aside from the sexual act, all he could remember were the Greek letters on her T-shirt. He had thought about going up to her sorority house but was too embarrassed. What would he have said anyway? I met one of your sisters last night. The only thing I remember about her is her brown hair and that she sucked the hell out of my cock—say, who would that be?
As Ken slowly pumped his hand around his erection, Tommy recalled how the Eta Omega Epsilon sister had taken tiny, short licks along the head of his dick while doing the same. That girl had some serious skills. Tommy could still remember how her warm breath felt as she slowly engulfed the dome, only now when he fantasized, Trisha’s intense, brown eyes stared up at him as her sexy lips wrapped around his member. Mmm, what a nice thought! It would be so awesome to have her pretty pout surrounding my cock.
