Three to Come

by Annice Dare

  Somehow, I believed him.

  Larry had held my champagne flute while Pete was testing his arrangement of pillows, and now he handed it back. The wine was still icy cold. Each bubble burst in my mouth or under my nose like a tiny firecracker, attacking what few inhibitions I had left. “It’s not going to be just you and me, is it?” I said to Pete. “I want...”

  “So do I, sweet Cilla,” Larry said. “And Pete knows it. He’s a generous man, our Peter. He’ll share you with me.” Tipping his glass up, he drained it. “Whenever you’re ready.” His gesture took in the stack of pillows, the side of the bed, the drifting bed curtains, and even the hot tub just outside the bedroom door.

  I knew if I got into that deliciously warm water, I’d be done for the night. I was already so relaxed that every gesture, every move was an effort. But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to know the taste of Larry, to feel the dimension of Pete inside me.

  “Later,” I said, “When we’re tired and ready to sleep.”

  “Later,” Pete agreed, his voice a catlike purr in my ear. He reached around me and lifted the almost empty flute from my hand. “Lie on the pillows, Cilla. I want to fuck you.”

  I crawled across the yielding mattress and arranged myself on the pillows. Not to Pete’s satisfaction. For he pushed and lifted and plumped until he had me exactly how he wanted me.

  “How’s that?”

  I opened my mouth to reply that it felt as if I was about to slide off the bed, when I realized that he was asking Larry, not me.

  “It’ll do” Larry said. He set his flute on the table beside the bed and came to stand beside my legs. Again I felt uncomfortable, for in the spread-eagle position Pete had placed me, I had no secrets. Larry paused, to gaze between my legs. “Your lips there are as pink as your mouth,” he said, sounding almost thoughtful. “Lovely.” His finger traced the lips of my vulva, and I stifled a small scream. I was so unbelievably sensitive that the merest touch made me wild.

  He climbed on to the bed and the next thing I knew, he was straddling me. His knees were on either side of my waist, then inching up along my chest, until he was just below my breasts. He let himself down until I felt his balls resting on my diaphragm. Not six inches from my eyes, his cock, still glistening a bit from his gism and my wetness, bobbed eagerly.

  I must have gasped. Up this close, he was enormous.

  “You like what you see?” Larry said, with a devilish grin.

  Although I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t in grave danger from that massive tool, I nodded. As men’s hardware went, his was about the biggest I had ever seen. No, not about. His was the biggest I could have imagined.

  A touch on my thigh distracted me from my fascinated gaze at Larry’s penis. Pete was settling himself between my legs. When he applied pressure, I lifted them so he could scoot up close to me. The nest moment I felt his breath on me, cooling flesh still wet with Larry’s ejaculate. Once again the muscles in my lower belly clenched in hot desire.

  His tongue touched me. Tenderly, seeking out my clit. I writhed, lifting myself to his mouth, even though I couldn’t see him.

  But I had no time to think about what Pete was going to do to me, for Larry was petting me, stroking his long-fingered hands across my chest, tweaking my nipples and kneading my breasts. Even as I felt Pete’s tongue lapping at my clit, Larry’s cock slid between my lips.

  I tensed. Ready to squelch the gag reflex I’d felt when Pete had come inside my mouth. But there was none of that. Larry’s invasion was delicate, gentle, and he gave me time to taste him. To suck him inside. As I curled my tongue around the head of him, I felt a gentle touch, small proddings on the flesh at the mouth of my vagina, tickles almost.

  More light touches, then a pressure as something penetrated my vagina. Something big, hard, almost overwhelming. It pushed in...and in...and in… until I felt stretched beyond belief. “Oh, Cilla, you’re so tight, so hot,” Pete said. I heard quiet desperation in his voice.” I won’t last...”

  Larry pulled himself free of my mouth and caught his cock between my breasts, which he squeezed together, enclosing it. After moment he began sliding his cock back and forth in the tight dell between my breasts. Back and forth, back and forth—Oh, God, I still remember the friction and the heat and the pressure of that hard shaft against the sensitive skin of my breasts as he moved in hypnotic rhythm with Pete’s trusts into me.

  I don’t know who came first. All I can remember is an all-over sensation of my skin feeling like it was stretched near to bursting, then it did...I did...we did...exploding together like skyrockets, like volcanoes, like meteors ripping through the atmosphere. Larry’s gism squirted across my chest. I heaved and writhed as spasms beyond anything I’d ever experienced shook and twisted my whole body.

  Larry feel forward on top of me, his arm wrapped around my head. He was panting like a distance runner at then end of his race.

  Pete had fallen forward and lay half on-half off of my abdomen. His puffs were in time with my hoarse gasps for breath. Yet he still had the energy to roll to one side and plant a gentle, sweet kiss on my thigh. “Oh, Cilla, that was something else!” he said, his voice weak and fading.

  “Way cool,” Larry whispered, tightening his clasp on my head for a moment.

  We slept then. At least I did. When I woke I had the sense that several hours had passed. I stirred, trying to free my right arm which was trapped under Larry’s body and tingling from being crushed between his ribs and mine.

  Pete no longer lay across my abdomen, but was curled beside me. When I moved, he woke and pushed himself upright. “Are you all right?” His voice was sleep-blurred, gravelly.

  In the dim light from the wall sconces, I could see that Pete’s usually stiff-standing hair was going off in all directions, like a cluster of ripe, golden straw. “I’m fine,” I told him.

  Easing myself out from under Larry, I sat up. Other than a couple of twinges in thigh muscles not used to being spread wide for long stretches of time, I was better than fine. I was wonderful.

  “I feel like a new woman,” I told Pete. “Like I’ve been reborn.” But my yawn spoiled the effect. “I could sleep for a week.”

  “Oh, not yet,” he said. “It’s not late.” He nudged Larry with his foot. “Wake up, Lar. You’re wasting precious time. There’s still a tub full of hot water just waiting for us.”

  “Ummmm. Cilla?” He rolled on to his back and opened his arms—but not his eyes. “Come and kiss me, sweet Cilla.”

  Unwilling to move, I reached for his hand and brought it to my lips. After nibbling each fingertip in turn, I kissed them, one by one. “Larry—” I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “What?” He was obviously still half-asleep.

  “Just...Larry.” I bent and kissed him again, this time touching my tongue to his lips. His mouth opened but his eyes did not.

  “I’m thirsty,” I realized. “Do we have anything but champagne to drink?”

  “I’ll see.” Pete rolled off the bed and strode out into the other room. I heard the small refrigerator open, then after a short interval, a clink of glass against glass. “Coke or water?” Pete called.

  “Water.” I scooted to the edge of the bed, and in doing so realized I needed to make a stop before going into the other room.

  When I came out of the bathroom, my hair combed—it had looked like the proverbial rat’s nest—and the worst of the sticky semen washed off my chest and chin—I found the bedroom empty. From the other room a low-pitched hum told me that someone had turned on the hot tub motor.

  Turning back to the bathroom, I grabbed the thick terry robe that hung on the back of the door, Being naked in bed with Larry and Pete was one thing, Making a grand entrance in my skin was a bit more than I could do, even after...after everything.

  Larry was sprawled along the opposite side of the tub, arms spread wide, head thrown back, eyes, closed. The slightly rosy light coming in through the wide window made him look terribly young and
unbelievably innocent. And so very appealing. I wanted to go and sit beside him, to take his precious face between my hands, and kiss him until we were both weak with desire.

  As I hesitated in the doorway, Pete stepped into view. He was nude—delightfully, magnificently nude. For a short man—compared to the other men in my life—he was beautifully put together. Wide shoulders, deep chest, narrow hips, and straight, sturdy legs. I’d never realized how utterly male he was because most of the clothes he wore were loose and sometime almost androgynous in style.

  “Here’s your drink,” he said, holding out to me a cut-glass tumble filled with ice and water. “And there’s more champagne.”

  “I have to work tomorrow,” I reminded him.

  His grin told me how important that was to him. “Amtrak’s doing the driving. You can sleep all the way home.”

  So I could. I accepted the water in my right hand, the champagne in my left. “What about Larry? I hate the though of him driving—”

  “He’s a Blazers fan. He’s got tickets for tomorrow night’s game, so he’ll come home on Saturday.”

  I felt a minor twinge of disappointment. I knew that with the day’s dawning, this night out of time would have to end. Still, the thought of Larry and Peter having lives apart from here, apart from now, filled me with regret. My secret, selfish self wanted this idyllic adventure to go on, and on...and on.

  Larry’s plaintive voice startled both of us. “I’m all alone in here.”

  Laughing, both Pete and I climbed into the tub. The hot water churned and bubbled, massaging muscles that had been stretched tonight as they never had been before. It soothed delicate tissues abraded by friction, and wilting bodies already limp with satiation. I leaned back against the curved side and let myself go.

  But not for long. After a few moments, I felt a pressure on my leg, a questioning touch up the side of my thigh. Looking down through the bubbles, I saw Larry’s hand petting me. “You’re kidding,” I said, sleepily.

  “No, not entirely. I admit, I’ve got all the initiative of a melting snowman, but there are still some delights we haven’t sampled. Just give me a while to catch my breath.”

  “Oh. Larry, I don’t think—” He’d already come twice. Could he—

  Could I?

  “Don’t worry. We’ll take what we can have and be satisfied. But I haven’t tasted you yet, Cilla, and I want to.”

  A stirring of desire deep within my belly freed me to say, “Oh, yes, I’d like that.”

  Pete’s elbow nudged me. “There’s something I haven’t done, either.”

  “Flip for first?” Larry said.

  Pete grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me. “Uh-uh. We can share again, can’t we Cilla?”

  “I can’t imagine anything I’d like better.”

  Chapter Nine

  Larry surged out of the tub and grabbed the robe I’d left beside it. Instead of putting it, he used it to dry himself as he strode into the bedroom. In a moment he was back with an armload of towels. “I’ve an idea, but we’ll need to be dry.”

  Pete and I climbed out of the tub. I shivered in the cool air, until Larry enclosed me in a fluffy towel. Buy the time he’d rubbed me dry, with Pete’s enthusiastic help, I was glowing and semi-aroused.

  And sleepy. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop the jaw-cracking yawn that overcame me. Then I had to laugh, as both men’s mouths opened in equally wide gapes.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Pete said, scooping up the damp towels. “We’ll fall asleep together.”

  “But first...” Larry’s tongue swiped across his smiling lips, leaving no doubt as to what was coming first.

  He waved me toward the bed. “Sit down, Cilla.”

  I sat, wondering why Pete snapped his fingers and turned back to the other room.

  I perched on the edge of the bed and Larry knelt before me. Pete returned, carrying a glass of ice, which he set on the table beside the bed. “Thirsty,” he said with a grin. He settled himself behind me with his legs stretched alongside mine. His hands came to cup my breasts gently, and his touch showed me I’d be tender tomorrow.

  Larry dipped his head and blew on me. I was warm and still moist from the hot tub, so his breath cooled my skin and raised goose bumps. Tiny tremors shuddered up my belly and down my legs.

  Pete lifted my legs and laid them over his, spreading me wide. I resisted, still not comfortable with being wide open to their view. But Pete was far stronger than I and had his way, gently but inexorably. Then I stopped worrying bout anything, for Larry’s long tongue began to explore me. He licked along the labia, never quite touching my clit, but coming so close—oh! So close!

  Again and again I wanted to yell at him to just do it! Then he’d find another wonderfully erotic spot and I’d forget my impatience in sheer ecstasy.

  Eventually, when he’d reduced me to a quivering mass of desire, he flicked his tongue across my clit, then drew it deeply into his mouth. I felt the pull from my toes, where now-familiar heat gathered. “Wait—” I gasped.

  He withdrew. Just a little. “Oh, not yet, sweet Cilla. I want to enjoy this a bit. But oh, man, I could just eat you up, you delicious morsel.” His tongue swiped the length of my slit and dipped into the mouth of my vagina.

  “Laaarrrrryyyyyy.” I felt the orgasm begin.

  Then Pete put an ice cube against my nape. I screamed and tried to escape, but he held it firmly there until I forgot all about coming.

  “Damn you!” I snarled. “I was about to—”

  “I know. But Lar didn’t want you to, and neither did I. Relax Cilla. You’ll have your orgasm—more than one if I haven’t lost my touch. Just not now.”

  He removed the ice cube, leaving trickles of icy water running down my back. But not for long. His mouth was hot on my skin as he licked and sucked the moisture away.

  Larry was still while Pete was busy. His head was between my legs, his breath warm on my thighs. Then he moved, and licked again, his tongue darting in and out in a delicious imitation of coitus. The tingles in my hands and toes that always presaged an orgasm increased. They spread up my arms and legs, until my skin was one responsive nerve ending from head to foot. The slight prickle of Pete’s heavy beard on my nape and upper shoulders only complemented the sensations Larry’s tongue elicited.

  “Relax,” Pete murmured in my ear. “Enjoy. Don’t think. Just feel. Feel this...” He nipped me at that sensitive angle where neck and shoulder blend, then laved away the tiny pain.

  Larry continued to work me with his tongue. As he licked and sucked and penetrated, I did stop thinking. My mind, my body, perhaps my very soul, were totally involved with the gathering storm Larry was calling up. Like a magician, he wielded his wand—his long, facile tongue—and I became his willing slave as he brought me almost to the edge...again and again...and again.

  He and Pete cooperated well, for whenever I was so close...SO close...Pete would apply more ice. The heat would recede, and Pete would soothe me until I stopped shivering. Then Larry would begin his torture again.

  “Oh, God, Larry, I can’t stand much more of this,” I moaned, after what must have been the tenth time I was rudely pulled from the edge of bliss. “Do me. Do me NOW!”

  “Be careful what you ask for, Cilla,” Pete said in my ear. His strong hands clamped my legs atop his and stretched me even wider.

  I had never experienced anything like Larry’s tongue play, but now I realized that he had only been toying with me. Now he became deadly serious. In seconds I was in the grip of a force so strong that being plunged into an icy bath wouldn’t have made any difference. The orgasm surged, gathering strength, carrying me along on a wave of fire, leaving nerve and sinew tight in its wake. When the ultimate paroxysm hit, I heard myself scream, then I was swept beyond conscious thought.

  Later I decided that writers who spoke of orgasm as a flight to the stars hadn’t been exaggerating.

  But I didn’t have time to think then, for before the contractions in my bel
ly and vagina ceased, Pete pulled me away from Larry and stretched me on the bed. Quickly he mounted me and slid that enormous cock into me. I was wet from Larry and my own secretions, so he slid in easily. The friction of his thrusts brought me back to the edge almost immediately, and as I once again tumbled over that ultimate cliff, I heard Pete shout his own completion. He sagged against me, still breathing hard. “Oh, Cilla, my love. Thank you,” he whispered, just before he rolled away.

  My eyelids drifted closed and a wonderful lethargy overtook me. Until I felt my legs being spread.

  “Ah, sweet Cilla, just one more time,” Larry said. “You’re so wet, so inviting. Can you do it again?” He rubbed the head of his cock back and forth across tissues tender from his suckling and lapping,” I’ll bet you can.”

  “Noooo...” The word came out a breathy moan. Yet as he entered me, pulled out, entered again, going only a little way inside, I felt an unlikely resurgence of heat flare in my belly.

  “Yes, I thought so.” He slowly pushed himself in, deeper and deeper, until I wondered how much more I could take. Then the tip of him touched a place, deep inside me, that I had never known was there. I locked my legs around him. “There,” I gasped. “Right there.”

  He began to move more rapidly, each thrust pressing on that mysterious place and driving me closer to the edge.

  “Now!” His shout acted as a trigger, and I careened into orgasm again.

  He collapsed atop me and lay there for a moment, breathing as if he’d won a race. I was beginning to wonder if he’d fallen asleep when he rolled to one side and pulled me to lay spoon fashion against his front. Pete curled back against me so I was the filling in their sandwich. Larry’s arm was tight around my waist, so I slipped mine around Pete and pulled him even closer. The last thing I remember is kissing the only part of him I could reach—his shoulder blade.