by Violet Blue
I fidgeted with my diamond ring. “What could possibly be left?”
He smiled wide, his cheeks pinker than usual from the cold. “I have it all planned. Just wait.”
And he did. Down to the minute, maybe the second—who knows. We were the first to arrive at his family’s winter home in Vermont, one that looked nestled into the side of a big, snow-covered mountain when we pulled in from the narrow road.
We took the opportunity to shower together, rinsing away our three-and-a-half-hour drive. I washed his hair and he washed mine. I soaped his cock and he soaped my pussy, then reached farther to tease my asshole with a slippery finger as I sucked on his gorgeous lips. All I remember is the heat from the shower and the heat from his body and the heat of his breath in my ear, and for a little while, all I could think was, “Okay, maybe we can marry this June.”
We were hot and heavy even before we ended up naked on the sofa, me in his lap, a loud, slapping noise from my skin meeting his while I rode up and down on this thick cock, and he was crying, “Fuck, fuck yes! Take me deep, baby!” His wide piece had just hit my spot and I was letting out my own wail of an orgasm when I felt the blast of cold air, opened my eyes, and saw them.
There were two other Stephens standing in the doorway, big duffle bags on their shoulders: one Stephen aghast, his mouth open and eyes wide, and the other with his blue eyes narrowed, a small smirk on his face. This Stephen instantly reminded me of the jocks I used to fuck when I was younger.
I don’t know why I didn’t feel the need to cover up or run into a bedroom from sheer embarrassment. I let Stephen lift me off his lap, his cock standing straight out when he stood, and said, “Brothers, you’re right on time.” I remember thinking, “Brothers” sounds strangely cultish, and what religion was he raised in again? Stephen continued. “Sonja, these are my brothers Jack”—the jock Stephen—“and Tommy”—the tinier, nerdier, freaked-out Stephen with wire-rimmed glasses like Harry Potter’s. “Guys,” Stephen said. “This is Sonja, my wife-to-be.”
It felt strange to not say a word, with me sitting on the couch completely naked and still flushed from coming. So what I muttered was, “Nice to meet you both.”
Jack hadn’t lifted his gaze from my tits, still wearing his creepy smirk. I would keep him straight in my head by secretly referring to him as “Jackass,” which, as of that moment, seemed more than appropriate. Another option: Jack-Off, a nickname that was timely, considering the bulge in his pants.
Jack-Off dropped his bag to the floor, unzipped his coat, and stepped out of his snow boots. Tommy shut the front door behind him, clenching the strap of his backpack with one, white-knuckled hand. I watched as my Stephen gave his cock a little tug, ensuring its hardness, wanting to be ready.
Jack hung his coat on one of the hooks on the wall, and then joined us near the sofa. Seeing him stand next to Stephen was surreal. They were identical in height and build. It looked like neither of them had shaved that morning, so even the stubble on their faces appeared to be of identical length. The only thing that set them apart was Jack’s creepy, predatory stare versus the always soft and warm expression of my Stephen. Jack finally lifted his eyes to meet mine. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sonja. We’ve heard so much.” He paused, and then, “So, you up for some triplet trouble tonight?”
Oh, Jack-Off, you corny jackass. His smile wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but it made me question, although only for a second, this idea of mine to take on all three of the Murphy boys.
I looked back to Tommy, who was still standing at the front door in his big, puffy ski jacket zipped high to his chin and his matching red hat with white pom-pom. I felt warm hands on my shoulders and knew they were Stephen’s. With my eyes still on Tommy, Stephen said softly into my ear, “If it’s okay with you, honey, we’d like Tommy to be the star of this show. He’s still a virgin—.”
“That probably doesn’t surprise you much,” Jack interrupted.
Stephen continued, “—and I can’t think of a better or more delicious woman than you to take it from him.” Stephen brushed his fingers along the base of my neck, sending the most amazing shivers throughout my body and hardening my nipples. I thought, If all three of you can touch me like that, then let’s get this show started.
“And we,” Jack said, “as his brothers, will be here to support him.” He unbuckled his belt and pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing a chest as smooth as my Stephen’s, but with sinewy muscles in his arms and stomach.
I said to Tommy, “Does that sound good to you, sweetheart?” I tried to make it sound sexy, not matronly.
From behind me, Stephen said, “You don’t call me sweetheart,” and Jack let out a gruff chuckle.
Tommy pressed his glasses back on his nose. “I think so. Yeah.”
There was something incredible about this smaller, more timid version of my Stephen, and suddenly, there was nothing I wanted more than to see Tommy where his brother had been: naked beneath me as I rode his hard cock.
I moved from the couch and made my way, naked, to Tommy. Holding his even gaze, I took the hat from his head and pulled the bag from his shoulder, nearly dropping it to the floor from its heavy weight. Tommy smiled then, and I could feel my pussy tinge—a sign of me getting wetter. I pressed my body against the front of his puffy coat, its coolness shocking my hot skin, and brought him in for the softest closed-mouth kiss I’ve ever given or received. Taking both his hands in mine, I said, “Come join us on the couch.”
“Fuck, yeah!” Who else could that be? No one but Jack. He sounded like my Stephen, but Jack was louder, which matched his energy and swagger. When I turned back toward them, they both had their hard cocks in their hands. Stephen gave his a slow, long rub, his eyes dreamy on me, while Jack worked his piece quick and hard like he was seconds from shooting his load all over the red Pottery Barn sofa. (New nickname, perhaps: “Jack Rabbit.”) I noticed that Jack’s dick was far thinner and just slightly longer than Stephen’s. Typical, I thought, that the douche bag of the three would have the tiniest cock.
And then I thought that this boded well for Tommy, who was following me as he stripped off his coat, stopping for a moment to balance unsteadily on one foot and slip off a snow boot. When I sat back on the sofa, I reached out and ran my nails along the underside of Stephen’s tight balls while he stroked that thick cock I loved so much.
He bent over to kiss me ardently, his tongue forceful against my own, and it was just what I needed. This hot kiss was his continued consent, his encouragement for me to fuck his virgin brother while he and Jack did whatever it was they would do, and that didn’t matter, because Stephen was there and Stephen was hard and Stephen, I felt, would keep us all safe in the end.
When my lips broke from his, Stephen put two fingers in his mouth before he pushed them into my wet cunt. I gasped, spreading my legs farther apart to urge on a good cockless fucking. He smiled at my response, but moved his fingers from my hole. “That’s my girl,” he said.
“Holy shit—” It was Jackass who grabbed our attention, and when we turned to look, it all made sense. Tommy—thinner, bonier and whiter skinned than his two brothers—stood tall with his enormous cock jutting out from a thick bush of brown pubic hair. I didn’t even notice his balls (which were proportionate, I guess, but not ugly—just big) because my head was swimming with numbers: Seven inches? Eight inches? More? How big was this boy’s cock? It was not only long, but thick like my Stephen’s, and before I even started to worry about where exactly I was supposed to fit all of it, I heard Stephen say, “Yeah. I’ll get the lube.”
Jack said, a little too aggressively, “Dude, why didn’t you tell me your cock was that big?”
Before a wince took over Tommy’s face completely, I grabbed his hand and brought him down to the couch with me. I looked up at Jack. “It’s a surprise, right?” Then I looked at Tommy. “It’s a very, very nice surprise. Sit back against the cushions, okay, sweetheart?”
Stephen returned. “Her
e,” he said, and I opened my hand flat for him. “A condom and some lube.”
I tucked the tiny bottle of lubricant into my free hand and offered Tommy the condom with the other. “Do you want to put this on, or should I?”
There was a quiver in his lips that I promised myself I would kiss away when his cock was thrusting deep inside my pussy, filling me far more than his brother ever would.
“You can,” Tommy said. We both looked down at his cock, big and hard and wet at the tip.
I slipped the condom on and squeezed some lube onto my fingers, rubbing it first into my already wet hole, and then applying more to Tommy’s length. I heard my Stephen moan while he watched us, and, somewhat surprisingly, Jack joined in, just as loud as his brother, if not louder. I loved knowing that they were behind us, the two jerking their cocks in completely different, non-identical ways—the Jack Rabbit to my right, my slow-and-steady boy on my left.
I straddled Tommy, bringing my tits so close to his face that I grazed his lips with a hard nipple. I said, “Hold your cock for me,” and Tommy gave a little nod, looking down again into his lap. I lowered myself slowly, feeling the wide head of his cock against my slit, and then lower again, taking him with only a little difficulty, with many thanks to the lube and that amazing kiss and quick finger-fuck from my Stephen. I pressed down until I couldn’t take any more of Tommy, feeling full and stretched. I held perfectly still until I felt full and stretched—in a far sexier sense now, in a way that I knew meant I could take him, that I could move my hips, bounce up and down on Tommy’s cock, and hope he wasn’t too much that I wouldn’t be able to come. I wanted so desperately to give him my orgasm, my tiny, nerdy, soon-to-be brother-in-law. I wanted Jack to be envious, and I wanted Stephen to be proud.
Speaking of the devils, I could hear their moans grow louder. My Stephen said, “Let me see it, baby. Let me see him inside you.”
Again, I leaned forward into Tommy, my tits in his face, and used my hands to spread the cheeks of my ass so the guys could take a look at how wide Tommy’s cock stretched my slit. This time, Tommy took advantage, flicking his tongue over my nipple.
I started to move slowly up and down on Tommy’s cock. I turned my head first toward Jack, then toward Stephen, snapping both my fingers. “Both of you—stand here on the couch next to us. I want to see those cocks.”
When they joined us, I fell back onto Tommy’s cock courtesy of all the jostling, and we both gasped. I looked down onto Tommy’s smile, watched as he closed his eyes and lowered his head back on the cushion of the sofa—a position I’d seen his brother in hundreds of times before. With Stephen’s and Jack’s cocks at eye level on either side of me, I took a gentle hold of them both, moving my hips again up and down on Tommy’s hardness. While I fucked him, I worked my hand gently over the length of Jack’s hard cock, and brought Stephen’s to my mouth, licking the head and tugging the way I knew he liked.
Soon, it was a moan fest. Stephen—my beautiful Stephen— had his hands on his hips, which he rocked forward, urging me to take his cock into my mouth, and how could I refuse his shameless noises, his “Suck it, baby. Fuck him, yeah.” Jack’s moans were higher in pitch, bordering on sounding like a boy’s whimper. Jackie, I thought then. Little Jackie. His strange, young noises were something I never knew would turn me on as much as they did. Because of those noises, I left Stephen only with the attention of my hand moving on his thick, wet piece, but at least he had the pleasure of watching me take as much as I could of Jack’s smaller cock down my throat. The more I took, the higher and louder Jack’s moans grew, and that spurred on my Stephen, who was moaning, “Oh, oh, oh,” and Tommy finally chimed in, saying, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is so fucking good,” as I rode him at a furious pace. It was his hot skin now that was slapping against my own with every bounce, having taken the place of his brother beneath me on the couch.
Okay. I was surrounded by three guys—triplets—who were the most vocal men I’d ever been with, and fuck you, bad porn, and fuck you, shitty high school boyfriends: guys can be—what would you call it: vulnerable? emotional? acknowledging?— enough to open their mouths and use their vocal chords for something other than an occasional grunt. I felt like my body and hands and mouth were conducting a symphony, with Stephen’s loud “Work my cock hard with that hand, baby!” and Jack’s loud, high-pitched moans, followed by the occasional “Fuck, you’re so good!” and Tommy’s “Damn, your pussy’s so wet and hot!” With music so beautiful, how could I not move my mouth from Jack’s cock and scream out my own orgasm, louder than the three brothers, the final crescendo, as my Stephen groaned, matching my volume, and shot his huge, creamy load across my tits. This brought on Jack’s orgasm, his little-boy squeals coming loud and fast, growing higher in pitch all the while, as I worked him with my hand. Jack wasn’t a shooter, but more of an erupter. I watched as his clear come dripped from the head of his cock onto my hand and some onto the couch, his eyes closed and lips luscious and pouty like my Stephen’s.
Tommy was thrusting up into me, and I took him with such ease, I could only imagine the state in which he would leave my cunt. Would I ever be tight enough for Stephen again? It didn’t matter. Tommy’s orgasm was louder than Stephen’s and deeper than Jack’s, and when he thrust far inside me for the final time, he yelled, “Sonja! Sonja! Oh, fuck!” like I was tearing him to pieces, like he’d never make it out of this orgasm alive, with his wire-rimmed glasses low and lopsided on his nose. Tommy was a sound and vision—and with his cock buried in me, a total sensory experience. It was sexy enough to coax my pussy into clenching again as he made me come a second time.
It was the only time we did it—two days before Christmas during our final year of college. Stephen and I married two years later, and at our wedding, I danced closely with both of his brothers. My favorite picture from our big day is the one where the photographer encouraged the three brothers to surround me, and you can see each of their hands on my body, and my smile is wide and electric.
THE UNREQUITED ORGASM
Dani Bauter
Tonight it took me not one, not two, but three times to get off. I was starting to feel a little guilty about not giving my lover any rest; I had to leave him with a little lotion in his bottle for later, when it was his wife’s turn. Nevertheless I climbed on his lap and whispered my request for a fourth, a record for me. Since I’d offered to do all the work, my lover didn’t refuse. I gave him my specialty, a lap dance I’d been perfecting after I visited that strip club with my coworkers at lunchtime a few weeks ago. Those women inspired me, made me want to tease my lover with the way that my body moved. I took off every single piece of clothing and moved my hips to the conga beat of the music, rocking on him. I watched as he shut his eyes and moaned deep, at the back of his throat. I kissed him and he grabbed my breasts. I rubbed myself on his cock and felt it grow against my thighs.
I wasn’t focusing on anything right now but our passion, the little earthquakes and volcanoes that erupt within me when- ever I’m around him. Even though we had only recently met I couldn’t imagine him being very far away, and sometimes the thought scared me. We fucked with an urgency and inten- sity that blew both of us away. We told each other our most intimate desires and embarrassing secrets, and always ended our evening with a little fooling around and guaranteed mind- blowing orgasms. Then we went our separate ways, him back to his wife who he didn’t love—not that he could love anyone. I became more and more confused every day but I tried to focus on the present moment, because that seemed to always get me through. That was, until I met Lina, the second half of Holly- wood’s power couple.
She came to me as if in a dream, those huge, beautiful gray eyes and lips that begged to be kissed. I had never felt that way about women before, and Lina was clearly an exception. She had come to visit me because she had found my business card in her husband’s wallet, and wanted to find out just exactly what services I was providing for him. But when our eyes met for the first time there was so
mething more than charged civility conducting between us. Fortunately I had the proper creden- tials—as a journalist I had interviewed her husband about his role in his latest movie, among other things. Business aside, I invited my guest to stay for a drink, perhaps a glass of red wine? Lina accepted.
Instead of being an adoring fan, I started talking about myself, sharing details of my life with Lina that I had never told anyone before. Of course, I neglected to mention the extent of the services I was providing for her husband. Lina had this silent way about her that intrigued me—I could tell she was really listening, and considering the things that I was telling her. Her eyes revealed that. Lina’s pout was a different story. Soon I got lost in the sound of my own voice and Lina’s gaze.
Hours passed before either of us realized what time it was. Lina was late for a meeting with her agent, and I had to get started on a story I was writing. “I had a great time, we should do this again sometime,” Lina murmured, with a smirk that both bothered and aroused me.
“We will,” I replied, all traces of doubt purposefully absent from my voice.
The two of us went back to our separate lives. I continued to see Brady in private, one time even at their house. Surrounded by photos of the two of them, I couldn’t help but check out the ones of Lina. What was it about her that made me so horny? It was like her eyes spoke to me, connected with me in a way no one had ever done before. Brady even noticed.
“Lucy. Are you there, sweetie?” Brady was getting more and more annoyed with me because sometimes it took him a while to get my attention, so hung up was I on that photo of Lina in the leather pants, long hair covering her breasts, a black panther on a leash next to her. I was creaming my jeans and I couldn’t figure out why. And then I started to ask questions, which really bugged Brady.
“What is Lina like in bed?” I was once so bold to ask, and Brady stopped in the middle of our fucking, put his shorts on, and went downstairs to get a glass of orange juice. I really didn’t think it was going to bother him that much. Being a woman, I’d had the notion of a threesome with another woman proposed to me more than once. But apparently I’d overlooked that one huge item—the male ego.
