Boxers & Briefs: An MFMM Romance

by Abby Angel

  Goddamn, I want to fucking hold her. She’s shaking and nervous. That will make it harder to come, baby girl. I wanna tell little princess to relax. I want to hold her against me and guide her hand. I look and see that Damien isn’t saying anything but his fists are balled up and he is goddamn holding back with everything he has to keep from touching her or saying anything. But because of how things are going according to plan, the best thing for everyone to do is to let her get comfortable. Sarah is a good girl and she gets to come. Soon, she will find her way out of the haze of her nerves, and she’s going to come, right on her hand, and fall apart from all the things that are holding her back. I saw the way she looks at Damien. That’s more than goddamn lust. It makes me swallow. I will have to fuck her so damn good that she knows I’m worth allowing to intrude in on what she has with him. I mean, the masturbation thing? He was her fucking exact taste and need from the moment she saw him. There’s a level of comfort that she has with him that’s goddamn touching. Her little moans right now with all my mushy feelings make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And I see that lust building up in her eyes and overtaking the nerves. Sarah knows I’m watching and she is most definitely still getting off. In fact, a man can dare to dream, and that’s turning me on more.

  Sarah has that look in her eyes. I’ve seen this look before. On Damien’s face. Sarah needs to let go. Damien, ironically, in holding back from fucking Sarah just yet, is finally letting go like he needs to. They're more similar than they realize.

  And me? I would fucking let go the instant the right girl was there and I could bury myself in her pussy. And, or, also that ass. God, Sarah is that girl. This wicked and crazy little plan that Damien is pushing on me is completely going to work. Damien knows I want to settle down with the perfect toy, the perfect woman for me. I probably would get a woman off the Virgin Market. I’m goddamn complicated and the Virgin Market is supposed to be easy. So things aren’t as simple with Sarah…but they’re close enough. I need her. I goddamn need her. My cock is going to explode in my pants trying to make that point.

  Sarah’s breathing quickens and her fingers pump faster. I see her whole body flush and her knees start to shake.

  Then, she pulls her fingers out of her pussy and licks them. Goddamn licks them.

  Damien’s eyes are just as wide as mine, I’m sure. I’m not looking because Sarah is licking her pussy juices up with her eyes open and looking in my direction. My cock is crying out pre-cum, begging me to touch it, but no. I’m not going to bust a load in my trousers right now.

  Pulling her fingers out of her mouth with a sweet little wet pop, my breath is utterly taken away at watching her sway to the little dance of her ecstasy.

  Her lips part and she struggles to keep her eyes open as her breathing turns into huge inhales and exhales at the sensations.

  "Oh, God, Damien, God I’m going to cum," Sarah moans out. "I want you to lick my cum off my pussy, please, while TD watches," Sarah cries out and moans with the tremors of her orgasm.

  Damien swoops fucking in like a knight in a suit of armor (by Armani) and drops to his knees in front of her. "Sure thing, Sarah. You’re a good girl," he groans and laps his tongue over her trembling pussy.

  Goddamn.

  Holy fuck.

  She knows I’m watching.

  And she pulled Damien right in like her pussy was a magnet. Well, it might as fucking well be because no one in their right goddamn mind would have denied such a sweet request.

  Sarah let go. I realize this now. She went past the stress and found her solace in her own pleasure. And that connection she has with Damien? She called right on that when nothing was holding her back anymore.

  While TD watches? Well fuck me running that was just the kind of touch that makes me proud to exist. I know she doesn’t know anything about me except the fact that I'm watching her. Damien would keep it all lock and key. No way if he’s not fucking her that he's giving her details about me. Damien’s always walking around with these painful erections and keeping his cock out of her.

  Watching Sarah’s little face contort and her eyes roll back in her head as her pussy gets licked clean by Damien? This is the biggest test I’ve ever faced in my life. God fucking damn, she is completely in the moment. The sounds she makes are music, beautiful fucking music of her whimpering out an orgasm. Her legs are getting hit by an earthquake. Her hands go to her breasts and her nails dig into her skin. She’s gasping for some kind of hold and grasping herself for some kind of way to release all the tension within her. But there’s no escape from the unrelenting orgasm tearing through her.

  Damien will grant her no mercy. Her body is craving this. Damien is quenching a nigh unquenchable thirst within her.

  "That’s it, let go, Sarah," I say aloud to no one but myself.

  Damien and Sarah both ball themselves up and try to be good, but they need to let go. This little threesome of ours that’s coming, it's going to be exactly what they need. And of course, what I need. I found the perfect Madonna and Whore girl in Sarah. She’s a lustful creature with a purity of experience and soul. I want a girl who does both, what can I say?

  Damien brings his mouth to her thighs, licking and biting and she starts to come down from the orgasm high. Each sensation he creates draws another cry from those perfect lips. Her legs quiver around him.

  "Thank you," she moans out.

  "You took a big risk with that request, and I have to say," Damien laughs against her skin, "it isn’t exactly the sort of thing I want to turn down."

  "Mmmmm," Sarah says. She licks her lips.

  "Were you thinking about me fucking you?" Damien presses.

  Sarah freezes up for a second.

  "Did you want to beg me and TD to fuck you so good that you can’t think about anything but coming?" Damien can’t help himself. The heat the three of us are feeling now is something that would rival the sun.

  "I bet you’d love that. We could both fill you up so good you’d forget how to be nervous, Sarah." Damien stands and strokes some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You have nothing to fear. Nothing to be nervous about. Your body is perfect. Your pleasure is deserved. You have no idea how much of an effect you have on me. You’re perfect. You’re more than good. You’re perfect." Damien’s voice is caught in his throat and he’s staring into her eyes.

  She is holding a breath she inhaled since he touched her hair. Exhaling, she fists her fingers into his hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Tasting her perfect pussy on his lips. Her kiss is so sweet, so innocent, so needy.

  Sarah

  I’ve been keeping a dossier on Damien.

  When he brings me to bed tonight, after I kiss him, I get a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I need to burn it.

  But I have to take that fire and use it to fight what happened to me tonight. I can’t accept whatever hot and cold craziness that Damien washes over me. I have to get free. I resolve that if he's gone tomorrow, for any amount of time, I am going to find something and I'm going to use it to get me closer to escaping. I'm not going to turn into the person I'm truly starting to become.

  I wanted to come and have Damien lick it off. I wanted TD, wherever he was watching, to see it and want me. I wanted them both to desire me.

  I did want them both to fuck me.

  God, I can’t be this person. I'm not this kind of a stupid monster. I'm a person. I don't belong to anyone. I don’t want to belong to anyone.

  I don’t want to crawl out of this bed and crawl into Damien’s and wrap my arms around him and kiss him again. I don’t want to taste my cum on his breath again. I don’t want that.

  Nope.

  I open my eyes after that unsatisfying sleep to find that Damien is not there for breakfast. Strange. Kiss the mysterious man that holds you captive, and he doesn’t even have breakfast with you. A stupid part of me is really hurt. But this is what I needed. The universe is giving me a chance to get free of him. I’m free of the distraction of him and now
I can find something else that will help me escape. The thought of the tickets makes me shudder. This is why I need to get Damien out of my mind. He isn’t a man I'm falling for. He’s a man whose trap I'm falling for.

  How can he tell me that I’m perfect, but also plan to sell me off or something?

  Perfect for what exactly?

  I’m angry now.

  I won’t admit to myself that I’m angry because I’m hurt. No, I'm not going to do that to myself. I'm just going to forge ahead and find something.

  I grab my little dossier on Damien and I tell myself, fuck breakfast. Damien didn’t show and neither will I. That’s so childish, but I'm hanging on by a thread here okay?

  I’m totally shaken up about how much I started to release all my fears when Damien played with me in front of TD. I cannot be something to be played with.

  I can’t want that.

  I have to repeat that to myself because right now? That’s all I want. I want to crawl into his bed and breathe in the scent of him and stay there until he returns.

  I’m sad because I want to know why Damien doesn’t take me to his bed and fuck me.

  That is not what I'm supposed to think.

  Escape. Snooping, finding something and figuring out how to get the hell out of this penthouse I’m trapped in.

  I go to try the study door. I do it every time and I now have it open an ounce.

  "Sarah!" Damien is there. His hand closes over mine on the knob. I turn because he’s behind me and I cannot breathe. How can he be here? Why couldn’t I hear him?

  Oh my God.

  "Damien!" I don’t know what I'm going to say, but I immediately want to beg forgiveness.

  There’s a rage in his eyes like nothing I've ever seen. He snatches my little dossier file with notes on his schedule and such on it…oh God this is a damn nightmare.

  A little pain in my stomach tells me that I should've accepted how I feel about Damien. Even my brain is a traitor. I have no sense in me.

  "I thought…" Damien starts to say something. God, that’s fucking pain in his voice. I caused it.

  I’m shattered.

  "I’m so sorry, Damien. This isn’t what it looks like. Or it is. But I —"

  "Do not talk to me. Do not say anything, " Damien growls. He pushes me against the door and I think he might kiss me. Or he might kill me. I deserve one of those. I’m not sure which one that I want.

  I’ll be good. That’s all I can fucking do. I can’t question anything within me right now. I feel hollowed out, like someone has scraped out everything within me.

  I mean, I know trying to escape is the normal, natural thing. But I wish desperately that I had stopped. Why did I still have this file? After how I kissed him? How he kissed me? What I’d said, asked him, and he came right for me? I knew things had changed and I ran in the other direction.

  Now I just want to delete the space between us. Kiss him, grab him. Crawl to my knees and clutch him and beg for forgiveness.

  Damien is reading the notes. I thought about if he was selling me. When he might be gone. I was thinking on paper when I wrote those things…and I’m not thinking about those things anymore. I don’t want to escape.

  God, some small part of me wants to scream that he kidnapped me, of course I wanted to escape.

  But I fucking don’t want to escape. Not now. Damien’s arms are the only place I feel like I belong. And I have goddamn ruined everything.

  Tears are streaking down my cheeks. Whatever Damien felt for me looks to be totally crushed. He fucking hates me now, and really he should.

  He can’t trust me. I never hid my conflict, but I tried to be good. Now every bit of me that I have shared with Damien is suspect, and he thinks that I’ve been lying this whole time. I want to die. Anything has to be better than how I feel right now.

  Sarah

  Damien turns to face me again, walking closer to me and that feeling of his body heat closer to me is the closest thing I have to feeling better in the hell in which my mind is trapped in. "You went through my private papers in my study. You kept notes on how to escape. On the possible buyers." Damien throws this in my face and I flinch.

  What can I say? My eyes are welling up with more tears, and I want to cower. Damien probably thinks that I'm afraid of him. What's really happening is so far from that. I've come to trust Damien. It's this fucking moment that everything in me fractures.

  I could lose him. Really lose him. And that is how I know—I love him. I love Damien. I just want to please him. I would be sold by him if it meant he was pleased with me. I don't want to be without him, but I can't stand the cold, hard fact that I've truly betrayed him. He knows it. If he wanted me at all, I've killed that urge. Now I'm just the girl who tried to escape.

  I would say who could blame me, but that's the thing. I blame me. I blame me for keeping the notes that I made about the tickets and everything I remember about the buyers. All the notes that I kept on him. I noted his schedule. I look like I'm trying kill him, with all these notes about his schedule. The truth is that I long since gave up on getting away beyond just not wanting to be sold. I want to stay with him and I no longer want to go about it this way. I kept making those notes because they feed my obsession with Damien. I have become obsessed with him, strange as that is. I can't tell him that. I can't tell him anything. The tears welling in my eyes sting and roll down in fat droplets streaking my cheeks.

  "Damien I am so --" I try to get the words out but his hand closes over my mouth.

  His other arm grabs me. He carries me to his study, crashes everything off his desk and lays me flat on my back on my desk. Damien flings papers everywhere, rogue office supplies smack against his carpet, making a smattering of a Pollack in prosaic paperclips. I want to stop him. Move his hand from my face and demand that he allow me to speak.

  But I have no idea what I would say. I want to apologize and tell him the truth. I can't.

  "Of course you wanted to escape," Damien whispers. His eyes pour their sadness into me. His anger is tinged with sadness and I know I have truly hurt him. I don't want to be able to do that. I don't want him to care about me. I want him to just sell me. I haven't shown him the kindness that he's shown me. I'm crazy for thinking this but there's something about Damien. I need him. I need him to want to keep me. But he always seems so hurt and I can't bear the idea that I'm what is making him hurt now. If I'm insane for wanting him, then he is the same kind of insane, and we need to stay together. But I've hurt him. If there was any chance that I could be his, I have killed it. Why hadn't I destroyed the evidence? Why did I keep peeking? Why did I keep a long list of everything he's done? My throat is raw already from the sobs wracking me. I realize I'm groaning against his hand, which he presses down harder.

  Damien swallows. "Don't say a fucking word," he says is an eerily calm voice. His hand moves from my mouth. I don't move on the spot for a moment. For some stupid reason I think he is going to kiss me. But why? Why would he kiss me as I cry and lie on his desk where he put me? I lean up to kiss him and his arms capture my forearms and his mouth closes over my mine, his body crushing my own. The firm wall of his chest against me makes my heart beat impossibly fast. I need this. I kiss him like I can show him how I truly feel. How sorry I am. If I only show him with my lips on his, my tongue caressing his, I have a prayer of making him understand. I want to tell him I love him.

  It is a foolish, girly thought, but I want to be able to tell him that I love him on a day he'll want to remember it. How can I think this when I know he wants to forget me? Maybe it'll be easy for him to forget me. I can't have that. I kiss him with every ounce of energy I have and I send my love, my passion, through my body. My arms are pinned or I would wrap my arms around him. My legs wrap around him without a thought. My hips are grinding against his, and I feel how hard he is. At least his cock still wants me. I'm wet instantly, the feel of his mouth on mine enough to arouse me, but knowing that cock wants me makes having a pussy worth it. I fucking cr
ave him. I ache for him.

  Just as quick as his mouth was on me, it's gone. He stalks away from me and storms from the room, locking me inside. I hear the click of the lock and try to follow after him but I can't.

  "Damien!" I yelp out. I beat my fists against the door. I need to make this better. My tears fall again, they crash against my prison. I have to do whatever Damien wants.

  I have to please him.

  I have to be sure that this is the last time I ever disappoint him.

  I don't know how or when, but when I have a chance, I have to make this better.

  I know I'm poison to him. That's why he's always so conflicted. I know I need to let him go. But I'm too selfish to think I can do that. Can he sell me when all I want is to be his? I will cross that bridge when I get there, because right now I need to be able to make him see that I'm sorry. I'm going to be good. So good.

  Maybe I can be good enough that he'll forgive me.

  But I know that I'll never forgive myself for tearing him apart.

  I can't logically parse this situation. I shouldn't be upset. I know that somewhere in the sense of this, I should be frustrated that he is upset. But all I hear is my heart telling me that I've hurt him. I've flayed my inner sense of reason long ago because I'm part of Damien's world and I desperately want to remain. Yet, now, I think I'll be nothing but a cask. I didn't mean to hurt him. I wanted to be good. But I was foolish. It's foolish that I thought I could ever get away. And do what?