by Elia Winters
Staring at Mitchell while Ben slid into her was the most intimate, intense experience so far, and that was saying something. He held her gaze, probably watching the way her eyes widened and mouth fell open when the giant cock head—holy fuck—finally slipped inside. Every inch that he pushed forward split her open. The position, the threesome, all of this pushed her buttons, but nothing compared to Mitchell’s unwavering, intense, soul-searching gray eyes. He was watching every expression, every twitch as Ben sank deeper and deeper into her slickness. She couldn’t hide. She couldn’t look away. When she tried, head falling forward because all her bones were going weak, Mitchell reached out and held her chin with a firm grip. Even though her expression glazed over, she didn’t close her eyes as Ben finally bottomed out, his hips flush against her. Then, only then, Mitchell released her chin and smiled.
“Very nice.” He sounded as shaky as she felt. Maybe this was as intense for him as it was for her. Now, though, he looked up over her to where Ben was kneeling. “Fuck her nice and slowly.”
Hannah let her head hang again as Ben began to pull back. The drag was amazing, the friction perfect. She’d wondered before if anything could top the sex she’d been having, but damn, this was light-years ahead of anything she could have imagined. Mitchell was watching her get fucked while Ben stroked gently, steadily in and out of her with that mammoth cock. The whole experience seemed surreal, and only the stretched-out, fucked-full feeling kept her grounded in reality. This was not just fantasy.
“How does she feel?” Mitchell asked.
“Ah, fuck.” Ben’s voice sounded strained, like he wanted to be thrusting much harder and couldn’t. “She’s so tight. Like a vise.”
“You should see her face. She’s gorgeous.”
Hannah turned her head away, blushing. She couldn’t really respond, though. The exposure, the comments on her body and her appearance, they were objectifying…and so smoking hot because of it. Somehow, they’d figured out her kink, and it was fantastic.
Mitchell’s warm hands closed around her hanging breasts, his firm grip sparking her nerves like he’d touched her clit directly. Ahh, damn, he knew she liked it rough, and he began to twist and tweak her nipples. Each of Ben’s thrusts pushed her forward, pulling her breasts against Mitchell’s grip, exaggerating the pain that also turned her on. She clenched around Ben’s dick in response, making him moan.
Ben kept up that frustratingly slow pace. God, why wouldn’t he speed up? She groaned. “Faster. Please.”
“Not yet.” Mitchell pinched her nipples again, and she yelped at that shock of pain. Mitchell’s expression was all dominance, the kind that made her shiver all through her body, his smile wicked. “I like watching you frustrated. I want you to ache for it.”
She shivered at the command in his voice. “I do. God, I want more.”
“Mmm.” His noise was noncommittal. Also, his cock was right there, and she leaned down again to suck him as Ben pushed forward. She was suddenly, gloriously stuffed full at both ends. Mitchell’s hands tightened reflexively on her breasts as he gasped. She bobbed up and down, needing this, needing him, mindless in her own desire.
“What a good girl.” Mitchell crooned his praise. He twined his fingers in her hair and began to guide her, up and down, pressing her mouth down onto his cock. She relaxed her throat and let him take the lead. Soon, though, he lifted her head off, and she mouthed after him, missing that contact. She wasn’t expecting him to lean forward and kiss her on her spit-slicked lips, Ben’s cock still steadily shifting in and out of her.
He stayed close to her, cupping her chin in his hand. “You want to get fucked faster? You want Ben to make you come?”
Yes, please. She nodded.
“Fuck her faster, now. I want to see these gorgeous tits swing.”
His crass words ignited something deep inside her, and Ben’s next hard stroke felt doubly intense. Those slow strokes had driven her mad, but this was insane, intensity ratcheting up faster than she could catch her breath. She could barely keep her balance with his thrusts. Mitchell’s hands kept working her breasts, and he was looking into her eyes, and before she knew it, she was right on the edge of her climax without anyone touching her clit at all.
“She looks ready to come,” Mitchell told Ben. “You’re doing a nice job.”
Ben groaned. The comment seemed condescending, like a power play, but Ben didn’t mind if his sexy groan was any indication. His hands tightened on her hips.
“You want to come, beautiful?” Mitchell asked her, and she nodded, like that was the understatement of the year. Sweet talk and brutal fucking, and she was going to lose her goddamned mind. She opened her mouth, trying to get more air, the heat in the room oppressive, sweat glistening all over her body. She couldn’t stop twitching.
“You don’t want me to make you wait again?”
She whimpered once more. If he did that again, she might die. She shook her head, struggling to find words.
“So sweet. So needy.” Mitchell took her chin in his hand again. “Come on his cock for me.”
Hannah felt her body shudder, vision going blurry, and her orgasm crashed into her. Mitchell stayed with her, his eyes locked with hers. No one had ever watched her like this as she came. Always, her partner was there trying to hold off his own orgasm, or else sometimes with his face buried between her legs, never able to just watch and savor her expressions. She collapsed as her arms gave way, body shaking and shaking like it might never stop. Mitchell gently stroked her hair. Ben was still thrusting hard, his cock driving her orgasm onward, spinning out the pleasure.
Mitchell moved away, getting off the bed, his words to Ben resonant with that same dominance.
“You want to come, too?” Mitchell’s voice sounded like pure sex, whiskey dark. “That tight pussy feel good around your cock?”
“Fuck.” Ben’s deep voice was nearly a whimper. “What are you… Fuck, Mitchell.” The thrusting suddenly stopped, Ben’s cock buried all the way inside her as he froze.
She could just barely hear Mitchell now, and maybe she wasn’t supposed to. “I’d love to fuck your ass while you fuck her. But you’ll have to make do with my fingers.” A slick sound, maybe lube, and she did not want to miss this. Ben’s face was contorted in pleasure, mouth open, eyes closed, Mitchell kneeling beside him with a hand out of sight. “Go on.” Mitchell spoke low again. “Pull out of her. Push onto my fingers.”
Ben’s thrusts became jerky and erratic, and yeah, Mitchell had Ben fucking between his fingers and Hannah’s pussy. This wasn’t for her; she was his cock sleeve, something to fuck, and damn, that hit a whole new collection of kinks. Ben’s uneven thrusts filled her, deep and sharp, and oh, she could come again. Shifting her weight slightly, she began to rub slick fingers across her clit.
Mitchell noticed, and he replaced her hand with his free one. His fingers were rougher, merciless in their intensity. He was rubbing her clit while fingering Ben in the ass, and hell, she had never done anything like this. Her brain was going to short-circuit.
“Oh god, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” Ben’s thrusts became harder, his hands tightening on her hips once more.
“Wait for it.” Mitchell began rubbing her clit harder. “Wait for it. She’s gonna come again. Wait for her to squeeze you so tight.”
A breath, that sense of inevitability again, that inexorable climb, and then she was lost in bliss. Ben’s cock twitched and pulsed inside her as he found his own climax with a loud, desperate, agonized cry.
They collapsed afterward into a sweaty pile of limbs, and Hannah caught her breath while Ben just groaned with a hand over his head. Mitchell vanished off to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later to stretch out on his side next to them.
He wasn’t going to do anything else? “What about you?” She propped herself up on one shaky arm.
“I don’t need anything.” Mitchell smiled. “Just watching this was enough.”
He couldn’t end the evening like
this, half hard and still wanting when she had had three fantastic orgasms. Leaning in halfway, she waited for him to push her aside, but instead he let her kiss him. His dick came back to full hardness with just a few strokes of her hand. His kiss faltered, his lips opening slightly as he did so, and she kept kissing him amid her own smiles.
“Mmm?” she asked.
He made a contented noise in return.
The bed shifted as Ben stretched out along Mitchell’s back, meeting Hannah’s eyes with a smile. She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but then Mitchell jumped noticeably in front of her, his cock twitching in her hand.
“Oh.” Mitchell smiled. “Turnabout?” He shifted to look back over his shoulder at Ben.
“Shut up. You know you like it.” Ben grinned.
Hannah kept stroking, fascinated by how every time Ben pushed a finger into Mitchell, Mitchell’s cock twitched. Mitchell didn’t resist, his whole body limp except his erection. Damn, being sandwiched between them held a clear appeal. Without the urgency of her climax, playing with Mitchell felt relaxed, fun, and light. When he locked his gaze with hers, though, all his pleasure naked and open in those gray eyes, she fell right in. She couldn’t look away from what was beautifully unfolding in front of her.
Mitchell came in a rush, tensing up and spilling over her hand, groaning low and rough. He was beautiful, lost in pleasure, and something twisted in Hannah’s heart that could only be a longing for more of this. Finally, he sagged down onto the bed, and Hannah flopped out beside them. She hadn’t known what to expect. This was the stuff of fantasies, and fantasies didn’t always cross over well into reality. Though exhausted, her body thrummed with energy, every nerve ending tingling. This wasn’t just sex. This was an experience. Tonight was like she had woken up from a long sleep and was seeing the world around her anew. She stared up at the ceiling. Something profound had changed. This couldn’t be a one-off experience. She didn’t want tonight to be the end.
And that was terrifying.
Chapter Nine
When Hannah returned from the bathroom, Mitchell was alone on the bed in his boxers. “Ben went to the other bathroom. You all right?”
“So good.” If she lay down, it would be tempting never to leave. Maybe clothes would help, so she got dressed. Mitchell patted the spot on the bed next to him, though, and it would probably be rude to just leave, so she gave in to temptation and curled into his side. He ran a gentle hand through her hair, and she shut her eyes and leaned into the touch. It would be so easy to stay like this, taking comfort from his closeness, talk long into the night.
“I’m not used to the cuddling.” Mitchell chuckled, but his laugh sounded awkward and a little sad.
“Ben’s not a big cuddler?” That was surprising. The man was built like a giant teddy bear.
Mitchell scoffed. “Definitely not.” He hesitated. “Or, not with me. But I think not at all.”
What a shame.
“Well, I would cuddle you.” She wrapped her arm across him and gave him a squeeze. What harm was cuddling, after all? Cuddling was physical affection, shared warmth, coziness. It didn’t have to be emotional.
Mitchell sighed. His fingertips brushed up and down her back, lightly stroking her through her shirt.
The door opened suddenly. “You guys want a snack? I was thinking…” Ben stopped abruptly in the door, staring at the two of them curled together on his bed. The moment stretched out into awkward silence.
“A snack.” Mitchell made a thoughtful noise, still wrapped up with Hannah. “What do you think, Hannah?”
Staying here was nice—maybe too nice. Maybe dangerous. “I could eat.” She disconnected herself from him with some reluctance. Snacks were probably safer than cuddling.
It was good to be dressed again, lounging in the living room. This felt normal. What had happened in the bedroom was starting to feel like a dream, something that someone other than her had done. She put her feet on the coffee table, leaning back in her chair, while Ben sprawled out on the sofa. Mitchell hummed to himself in the kitchen, making coffee and grilled cheese for all of them even though she never drank coffee this late.
“He makes a good cup of coffee.” Ben nodded over to Mitchell, giving Hannah a conspiratorial glance.
“He’s good at a lot of things.” Hannah grinned, testing out the waters. Could they joke about this?
Ben grinned back, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, he is.”
“You two talking about me?” Mitchell popped his head out of the kitchen.
“Only good things,” Ben responded, flashing Mitchell a cheesy grin. “All lies.”
“Humph.” Mitchell made a face and went back into the kitchen.
This sweet domesticity between them was like watching a married couple. Hannah hadn’t expected this kind of intimacy. They were more distant in public. They were letting their guard down here, in their home, and she was getting to witness it. How could Mitchell say there was nothing between him and Ben? It was obvious to anyone with two eyes.
Grilled cheese really was the perfect comfort food, though, and its perfection was enough to distract her from whatever musings she’d been starting about Ben and Mitchell. “Shit, I don’t know how you do this.” Hannah held the perfectly toasted sandwich reverently in two hands, because it felt blasphemous to hold it any other way.
Mitchell raised his eyebrows. “It is literally just a grilled cheese.”
“Nothing you make is ‘just a’ anything, Mitchell.” Ben was making some seriously pornographic noises over his food. Mitchell give Ben a look so appreciative, so soft, it just made her want to shake both of them until they admitted their feelings.
Instead of saying something to Mitchell, though, Ben turned to Hannah. “So. Question for you.”
“Okay?” She paused in eating.
“How do you feel about seeing both of us?”
Whoa, that was a flash of sudden déjà vu to her conversation with Lori. “At the same time?”
“At the same time.”
She looked down at her sandwich again and took a bite, using the chewing time to put her words together.
“Well, I definitely don’t want to choose.” How crazy that she hadn’t been the one to bring this idea up. “My friend Lori studies polyamory. It’s her PhD thesis. She was just telling me how lots of people make this work.” She hesitated. “I’ve got to admit, though, it seems complicated.”
“Yeah, but I’m not talking about a romantic relationship.” Ben stirred his coffee. “I’m talking about friendship, but with sex. Like what Mitchell and I have.”
Oh. The grilled cheese stuck in Hannah’s throat, and she swallowed it with some difficulty. Mitchell was silent, holding his cup of coffee. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but this felt…like something else. Yet wasn’t she the one who always said she didn’t want romance, and she wanted her independence? Was she really feeling sad because she wasn’t getting involved with two romantic relationships at the same time?
“I like being friends with you. Both of you. And the sex is great.” She had no good reason to say no. “So, sure. We can give that a try. Mitchell? What do you think?”
Mitchell tipped his head to the side, still looking contemplatively into the middle distance. Finally, his gaze focused on her again. “I think it’s interesting, and I’m game if you two are.”
“Great.” Ben raised his cup in salute. “Now, what the fuck do we still need to do before the festival?”
…
After Hannah left that night, the house fell into an uneasy silence. Mitchell stayed up on the couch, messing around on his laptop, which he never did. It seemed weird to Ben to just go to bed without talking, even though he couldn’t really decide what they would need to talk about, so he started straightening up the kitchen just to have something to do. He hadn’t realized before how attuned he was to Mitchell’s moods, but since Mitchell was clearly feeling unsettled, he couldn’t help mirroring it.
�
�This guacamole still good?” Ben held up a container from the fridge, and Mitchell glanced over from his computer screen for a moment.
“No. Throw it out.” He went back to typing.
Ben emptied the substance into the sink and rinsed out the glass bowl. That wasn’t going to be a good conversation starter, was it? He washed his hands.
“So Hannah said she wants some help packing up before the festival. You want to give her a hand with that?”
Mitchell’s brows drew together, his expression curious and puzzled. “You know a lot more about sex toys than me. I thought you’d want to do it.”
Ben walked back out of the kitchen. “Come on. I don’t know shit about toys. You’re the kinky one.”
Mitchell smiled, the first time Ben had seen him do so since Hannah left. It was a welcome sight; he hadn’t realized how much he’d been waiting for that smile until he saw it.
“Sex toys aren’t kinky. I don’t own any toys. I happen to know for a fact that you own at least one dildo and a masturbation sleeve.”
“Oh, god, don’t call it a masturbation sleeve.”
“What do you want to call it?”
“I don’t know.” Ben shrugged. “I don’t talk about it.”
“And yet you own them.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Do you want to go or not?”
Mitchell shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” He looked back at his laptop screen but didn’t put his hands on the keyboard again. He kept doing that thing he did when he wanted to say something, where his bottom lip twitched as he started to open his mouth and then stopped.
Ben wasn’t going to let him just sit there and twitch. It killed him to see Mitchell uneasy like this. And that was totally normal and didn’t mean anything deeper than the fact that nobody wanted their friends to be upset, and he was sticking with that story, dammit, no matter how much it felt like a thin guise. He flopped down into the chair. “What’s up with you?”
Mitchell pursed his lips. “I guess I’m not sure about this three-people-dating thing.”
