Christopher took over in a blink. “To good friends, new experiences and a lovely holiday. May your gift exchange be everything you want it to be.”
That sealed it. I clinked glasses and took a huge sip of my wine. Then I set it down and threw up my hands. “OK, let’s go. Let’s get this started.”
Both men stopped, glasses halfway to their lips and stared at me.
I stared right back. “What? Let’s just go. Down your drinks and let’s get upstairs.” My voice was high. My throat felt too small and my chest hurt from an invisible pressure that had settled there.
A small smile curved Evan’s full lips and he tried to stifle it. He knew exactly what was happening. “We can’t finish our drinks?”
I shook my head so hard my vision went wild for a moment. “No. Now. Let’s go.” The fear had pushed me to the point of annoyance. I was impatient and throwing a hissy fit.
Christopher laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “OK. Well . . . Are you sure you’re OK with this? I can leave. You seem a little . . . worked up.”
I sighed and suddenly felt so stupid I wanted to melt into the floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out. There just isn’t a graceful way to do this, you know?” I regarded each one calmly. I wanted them to see that I was settling down. “It’s the anticipation and the build-up that’s driving me crazy. We all know why we’re here. I just want . . . It would just be easier . . .”
Evan took my hand and beckoned to Christopher. “I think it would be easier on Allyson if we just skip the preliminaries and the niceties.”
That invisible weight in my chest lightened and then seemed to drift away. “Yes,” I sighed gratefully, “much easier. Let’s just go.”
Christopher followed us up the steps and I could hear that thick honey laugh. “You are a very strange woman,” he said. Another laugh spiralled up the steps and curled up my spine like smoke, stimulating each nerve as it travelled. “I like you very much.”
I smiled in the dark.
The moment we hit the bedroom, I started unbuttoning my blouse. No time to waste. Do or die. Move or run. I was going to do one or the other. I knew myself too well. I chose move.
“Um, Allyson?” Evan said slowly, watching me with that bemused look of his.
“What? A slow seduction? Is that what you’re asking?” I let my hands drop and blew out a breath. “We either do this, or I run screaming from the room. I want to do this, so . . .” I shrugged and attacked the last two buttons. “Let’s do it.”
The two men shared a look and, finally, Evan nodded. By then, I was down to the thong and the bra.
“Now?” Evan asked, just a hint of a laugh in his deep voice.
“Yes, now! Who’s first?” I demanded as my pulse slammed in my throat. My skin was hot despite the fact that I was nearly naked and the room was cool. I pinned each one with my gaze in turn. I almost felt angry but the arousal bubbled just below the surface. I focused on that. Then them, and finally closed my eyes and the mental image from the winter block party popped into view. Full colour, full view. Evan on his knees for me in front of Christopher.
They both stood staring at me. Now who’s the deer in the headlights? I thought and actually laughed out loud. “Are you two just going to stare at me all night? You—” I pointed to Christopher “—ditch the pants. You do the same, Evan.”
Another shared look and then both started to shuck their pants. Christopher’s khakis came down first, as did Evan’s faded button-fl y jeans. The briefs quickly followed. The shirts came off without request. Just whispers of fabric in the silence. Again they stared at me. Apparently, I was in charge. At least for the moment.
“Evan, would you . . .?” I was losing my nerve. It was one thing to see it in my head. A completely different thing to articulate it. Out loud. In front of a third party. But he was irrelevant really. Nothing more than a cardboard cut-out, not to put too fine a point on it. This was about me and Evan. About us. So I pushed the words past my lips. “Would you get on your knees in front of Christopher . . . please? For me?”
I shed my thong and sat on the bed. I didn’t think I could stand for this.
And he did. Dropped to his knees without a moment’s hesitation. Without my asking, he leaned forwards, because he knew what I wanted. I held my breath, watched, felt my heart go all erratic in my chest again. The moment his lips touched Christopher’s cock, starbursts of heat exploded under my skin. I could barely breathe as I watched Christopher’s cock sliding in and out of Evan’s mouth. Lips that had kissed me a million times sliding over another man’s erection. I didn’t let myself blink. I wouldn’t miss a second. Not one second of what he would do for me.
I watched Christopher watching Evan and my skin seemed to shift. Like mercury heating up and shifting form. When he placed one big hand on top of Evan’s head to guide him to go deeper, a small sound escaped me. A tiny sound that was nothing but desire. Without thinking, I touched myself and my fingers came away wet. Not just wet, but slick. Just the one quick flick against my clit made me feel as if I hung right on that edge. I could come with one stroke, maybe two. Just from watching Evan do what I had asked. What I had discovered was, for some reason, important to me. So he did it.
Evan couldn’t see me – I was watching him in profile – but his shoulders dropped just a little at the sound I made, as if he had been somewhat tense. Did I like what I was seeing? At that sound he knew how I felt and the tightness in his broad shoulders went away. He was fluid and moving slowly. No indication that he was uncomfortable or unhappy. And I let the next sound escape me as it welled up so he would know. Know how much I appreciated his gift. It was nothing more than a soft sigh but it slid out of my throat like a silk ribbon. On a breath, I managed one word: “Deeper.”
And he went deeper. His neck muscles were more defined, his features sharper in the half-light. Christopher’s head tipped back and he growled just a little. Just enough to make my skin feel raspy as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. My nipples peaked, and the fluid that had left my fingers slick now pooled on the bedspread between my thighs. When Christopher’s other hand slid into Evan’s hair and joined the hand already there, I had to grip my thighs to keep my hands from my clit. To resist the urge to slide them in and out of my weeping entrance. Despite this, I felt the tightening, oh so familiar, start in my cunt. A torquing of flesh that wants what it wants – release.
I watched Christopher’s cock disappear completely as Evan’s nose nudged the dark-blond pubic hair at the base. I felt my eyes well up just a little watching him in that submissive position before another man, for me. Doing something that most men would never consider because what would it mean? Nothing, really. Just that he loved me. Trusted me. Could give me that and let me watch, and know that I would not judge. One more long slide, one more glimpse of his throat working over Christopher’s erection. I heard him suck in a long breath through his nose, something I heard myself do too many times to count, and I let it be the last.
“OK.” That was it. That was all I said and they broke apart. Both looking slightly dazed. Evan checking my face for acceptance and then smiling when he found it. Christopher checking us both for approval. His cock stood out, fully erect and nearly purple. I licked my lips as I looked at Evan and laughed a little. Now it was my turn.
I didn’t trust my legs or my voice so I just used my hand to motion Christopher over so he stood before me. I could see Evan’s saliva, still wet and shiny, on his skin even in the dim light. I stroked it with my palm and his cock jumped. I circled the head with my finger and inhaled deeply. I could smell the scent of Evan that still clung to this man’s skin. Then I took him in my mouth and picked up where Evan had left off. I could taste him on Christopher, too. A distinctive taste I took away from every kiss. We all have a scent, we all have a taste. This one was familiar and comforting to me, considering I hadn’t done this for another man in five years.
“Allyson, go slower baby.” Evan’s voice, off to my
left. I glanced out of the corner of my eye as I slowed my pace. He wanted to see. He wanted me to see everything and now I understood this. So I slowed down. An inch at a time, moving with care. It was probably maddening to poor Christopher, but this wasn’t about him at all. His hands found my hair, too, but he didn’t draw me in closer or faster. He just twined his fingers in my hair as I sucked him. I watched from the corner of my eye and the tightness inside of me intensified as I saw Evan stroking his cock, saw the length of him slide in and out of his closed fi st.
I took a deep breath and played my tongue along those mysterious ridges that are different on every man. Each dip and swell new to me. When I heard Evan suck in a breath, I did it again, arching my tongue out, careful to run just the rigid tip along the shaft. I could hear them both breathing. Two men, breathing hard and fast in this room. For me. Because of me. But only one mattered. Both were exciting but only one mattered.
“Say no if you want,” I heard Christopher mutter, and then he was pushing me back. Gently, but backwards. Big hands on my shoulders as I seemed to recline in slow motion. “Somebody say ‘stop’ and I will,” he warned again. His face had gone to dark, his eyes hooded, his voice always heavy now so thick it didn’t even sound like him. He was positioned over me, between my thighs. His big legs were pressing against my smaller ones, and forcing them outwards. The blunt head of his cock was right at the tight portal that would let him into my body.
This was not in the script, but I found that I wanted it. That strange slide of another man. That first startling stretching of soft tissue around hard tissue. The electrical current of someone unfamiliar entering you for the first time. My eyes darted to Evan. I wasn’t close enough truly to read his eyes, but I saw the brisk nod. A decisive nod. If he didn’t want me to, he would have hesitated. I knew that for certain. I arched up and pressed the moisture between my legs against the head of Christopher’s cock. Inviting him. With another low growl he took me up on it. And slid into me.
One quick thrust, and my breath left. Then it was movement. Sweet and effortless. I was so wet it was like dancing. His body dancing into mine. Intoxicating. But my eyes never left Evan. The sight of him stroking himself. Eyes pinned on us as Christopher fucked me. Pinned on my face, moving to my hair, taking in the way my breasts rose and fell. The way Christopher bent – still sliding into me, out of me – and nipped my breast through my bra. Worked his tongue over the stiff flesh, forcing the lace of my bra against the sensitive tip. I groaned and saw Evan’s head tilt back, his eyes drift shut. A look I knew. He was close. Right there. And then he seemed so far away.
My cunt was so tight I thought I might scream with the heat that builds before an intense orgasm. I was wetter than I ever remembered being. It was all there, and Evan was a million miles away. And I hated it.
“Come here, Ev. Please. Hurry.”
Again, he did it instantly. All he needed was to hear my plea. Hear my voice and he responded. As he always had. As he always would. Now I saw that. He came. Knelt on the bed and waited for me to tell him what I wanted, what I needed from him.
I pulled at his thighs, pulling him over my head. He continued to stroke his cock, his eyes locked on the place where Christopher and I were joined. Mesmerized by each thrust and each retreat. I could read his eyes now. Could read the look. Magical. He had my trust, and that could never be questioned again.
Christopher’s movements intensified, nearly jerky. His breath tore in and out of him and his eyes were fi xed on some distant point. A lock of hair had fallen into his eyes and I had the urge to brush it away, but then the first sweet curl of pleasure shot through my belly, blazed a trail through my cunt. And, without thinking, I cried out, “Oh, Evan.”
Evan growled, and Christopher became more frantic, pushing into me almost brutally hard. His movements drove me closer to Evan, under him, and I watched as that beautiful hand worked that beautiful cock. It jerked, Evan cried out, and I grabbed his hand and opened my mouth. His come was like a baptism. And, as soon as the hot liquid hit my face, my orgasm burst apart inside me. I came. Another man in my body. The man I loved over me. Bright sparks of blue and purple behind my eyelids as I gave myself over to two points of pleasure. Two points that were only relevant in one context. Giving.
There was no three-way post-coital tangle on the bed. That had been made clear to Christopher, and he was fine with it. He left shortly after, and was just as friendly and kind as when he arrived. I had no worries that we had ruined a friendship with him or alienated him in any way. The mission of the evening now accomplished, I simply wanted to be with Evan.
With a bottle of wine and two glasses this time we went to the bedroom. He wrapped himself around me in normal fashion. Holding me as close as ever. Trying to press all of his skin against me at once, which usually earned him teasing. Tonight it earned him the same. I tried to have every part of me against him at once. If I could have crawled into his skin with him, I think I would have.
He kissed the nape of my neck, his fingers playing slowly in my hair. Gently. Barely a touch. Enough to make me drowsy and happy.
“We ’re OK?” he asked and kissed my ear. I could hear in the tone, he already knew the answer. He just needed me to say it.
“Better than fine. Thank you.” I kissed his fingers one by one and, as was my usual joke, sucked on his index finger until he groaned.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“You gave me something I wanted. You had the courage to give it to me,” I said and kissed his other fingers in turn.
“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? You did the same.”
“That was the point,” I said. “We did it for each other. With each other.” Then I kissed his palm and closed my eyes. I was suddenly very tired. I relished the feel of his warm mouth against the back of my neck. So familiar and now even more treasured.
“Do you think you’d ever want to do it again?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Do you? Think you’d ever want to do it again?”
“I don’t know either. I guess we’ll find out,” he said and then yawned softly.
“Together. We can find out together.” I let myself drift off. I was safe. I was cherished.
Peace de Resistance
Kris Cherita
Linsey winced as Brianna kneaded her back. “Jesus, girl,” said the masseuse, “you are a fucking mess. What the fuck have you been doing?”
“Just working.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” her friend asked rhetorically, with a hint of a sigh. “Why did you take that job, anyway?”
“They forced money into my hand,” said Linsey wryly. In truth, she’d been offered the position of principal of Maria Goretti College, over many colleagues with seniority, because of her excellent track record as a teacher. She’d accepted it in the hope of being able to improve the school as a whole, and had scored some minor victories, but only by micro-managing as much as possible. “Ow!”
“You getting any exercise?”
“No.”
“Getting laid?”
“No!”
“Thought not. When was the last time?” When Linsey started doing the maths, Brianna shook her head. “Not since Phil left, right?”
“No,” she admitted, with a slight twinge. While her ex-husband had had many faults, he was undeniably good in bed – a vast number of beds, unfortunately. She’d been hugely inexperienced when they’d started dating, but he’d soon changed that; he was a silver-tongued actor and dancer with the ability to arouse her to the degree that she would agree to almost anything. “I’ve been on a couple of dates, but none of them . . . well, you know. None of them turned me on.”
“How much of a chance did you give them?”
“What?”
“Did you try talking about anything other than your job?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Brianna nodded.
“I don’t get many opportunities to meet anyone—”
> “Bullshit,” said Brianna. “There are plenty of people out there, and you still look damn hot – OK, not in that straitjacket you were wearing when you came in, but you do now. Pretty face, big tits, nice curvy butt, good legs . . . you just have to learn to show them off a bit. All it takes is some effort and a bit of imagination.”
“I can’t go cruising the bars, or anything like that. I have my position to think of. I’m having enough trouble at the moment with parents trying to sack one of my best teachers for saying that abstinence-only sex education isn’t enough, and we should tell the girls about alternatives, including contraception and masturbation.”
“Maybe you should take that advice yourself. Start thinking about alternative and different sorts of position. Do you masturbate, at least?”
“I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work for me, either. I can’t . . .”
“Let yourself go?”
“Something like that.”
Another sigh. “You always were a control freak. You’ve got to learn that sometimes you have to make the choice to let someone else take control instead; always being in control fucks you up almost as bad as never being in control. Then you can decide when to take control again, because you want to or need to, not because it’s just a habit.”
Linsey didn’t reply.
“OK,”Brianna said, after a moment’s thought. “It’s your birthday next month, right? And I owe you something for introducing you to Phil in the first place. What say I arrange a party for you, out of town, so you don’t have to worry about meeting anyone with daughters at your school?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Did I ever tell you about the time I worked in a brothel?”
“You did what?”
“Just as a receptionist. I needed the money – besides, I wanted to play Blanche DuBois, and this seemed like a good chance to watch the working girls. Anyway, I found out some interesting stuff – for one thing, a lot of our clients were lawyers or judges. And after a while, I learned what their kinks were.”
The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes Page 38
