Talking Trouble

by Barbara Elsborg

But her nerves still jangled.

  “Want a hand with your dress?” Lysander asked.

  Before she could talk herself out it, Mollie slipped out of her shoes, pulled the dress over her head and dropped it. Both guys stared unblinking. Flint’s hand dropped to his cock and Lysander, who couldn’t have even seen what he’d done because he hadn’t taken his gaze away from Mollie, grabbed Flint’s wrist and lifted it off. A low cry broke in Flint’s throat.

  “You wear that underwear for us, Mollie?” Lysander asked.

  Her panties were a band of black lace around her hips, the matching bra strapless. She stepped into the room while she could still walk and kept going until she stood in front of them. Flint’s eyes gleamed and he chewed his bottom lip.

  I might never get this chance again. She walked into their arms.

  Flint couldn’t believe they were doing this. If it had taken having the stroke to make it happen, he sort of thought it was worth it. Lysander maneuvered them onto the bed and they lay with their legs entwined, a tangle of limbs, hips swiveling together, hands all over each other, caressing and stroking until he thought he’d explode. There was nowhere they didn’t touch each other and Flint never wanted this to stop.

  Mollie’s eyes were so beautiful, her lips impossible to resist, but before he could kiss her, she kissed him, the silken sweep of her tongue making electricity spark. She tasted of raspberries, smelled of coconut and vanilla, and he thought she was the sweetest thing he’d ever held in his arms. The sound she made in her throat triggered a surge of pre-cum and he found himself sliding his cock between her thighs, the friction against the lace a delicious contrast to the soft warmth of her mouth. He kissed her over and over—long, deep kisses that made his heart pound and his balls ache. He sucked her lips, licked her mouth and teased her tongue as she writhed against him, her hands clutching his arms.

  Lysander was hard where Mollie was soft, rough where Mollie was smooth but equally enticing, exciting, enervating. He rediscovered the places to tease that drove Lysander wild, shared them with Mollie, and they drove him wild together.

  When they broke to breathe, Lysander rolled her over, his eyes glazed as he pressed his lips to hers. Flint was just as turned on watching them kiss. Well, maybe not quite, but there was no jealousy, no feeling of exclusion, just one of joy. Am I fucking dreaming? Lying in that hospital, locked into a world I’ve imagined? Flint ran his hand along her shoulder, stroked Lysander’s cheek, then switched back to Mollie, dancing his fingers down her back onto her butt then across to Lysander to tease the angular bone of his hip as he rocked into Mollie.

  Flint unclipped her bra and pulled it from between her and Lysander, chucking it to the other side of the room. He heard Lysander sigh into her mouth and Flint pressed his face against her bare back, licking down her spine until he reached her butt. He pushed his fingers into the waistband of her panties and eased them down over her hips, thighs, calves until he could drag them off her feet. Then he pushed up against her, the sweet curve of her backside a perfect fit for his throbbing cock, and rocked into her.

  Would she let them fuck her there? Had she ever been fucked there? An image of the two of them inside her at the same time made his heart skip. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and fluttered his tongue down to her shoulder. When he nipped the junction of her neck, he felt her jerk between them.

  While Lysander kissed her, Flint explored every incredible inch of her body that he could access, and with each second that passed, he thought the chances of not exploding before he got inside her or Lysander were nil. But he wanted to make her come first. Lysander lifted her leg onto his hip, clamped his hand on her thigh to keep her there and tapped Flint on the head. Flint took the hint.

  He started again at her neck, trailed his tongue the length of her spine, down the crease of her butt, then buried his face between her legs, alternately licking Lysander’s balls and laving her damp folds. Flint could hear them groaning, cries catching in their throats as he kissed and licked and nipped and sucked them both. He pushed the pair farther apart so he could pull down Lysander’s cock. He wrapped a hand around the base and slid his tongue into the slit, swallowing the pearl of pre-cum, remembering that taste unique to Lysander, before he pressed his mouth back on Mollie. He was so excited he had to pull down on his own balls to stop himself coming. His blood raced in his veins, fiery rivers that made his entire body burn, while his mouth watered with the taste of both of them.

  Mollie writhed in Lysander’s arms, wriggled against Flint’s face and when Flint fluttered his tongue at lightning fast speed over her clit she came undone, spasming against him, crying out, her thighs clenching. He gripped the base of his cock so hard it hurt, but the pain gave him a reprieve.

  He rolled onto his back, panting, eyes squeezed shut, his hand still clamped around his cock, and Lysander brushed his stubble against his neck in the way Flint loved before he licked his mouth. Flint opened his eyes to see him grinning.

  “We taste nice,” Lysander said and winked.

  When Mollie licked Flint’s lips, he began to shake. As she kissed her way down his body, pausing to run her teeth over his nipples, detouring to bite his hip before licking the head of his cock, Flint felt himself starting to fall to pieces, one of those slow motion detonations of cooling towers, that slide and drop and… Then Mollie and Lysander both had their heads in his groin and he thought they must be breathing fire on him, he was so hot.

  He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down. Lysander was otherwise engaged, but Mollie glanced up and gave him a shy smile. She was stroking Lysander’s cheek, feeling Flint’s cock move under the skin, and the eroticism of it flipped him over the brink and his hips jerked. The moment his dick hit the back of Lysander’s throat, tension seized his spine and he came.

  “Fu…ck,” he gasped. Goosebumps prickled along his arms, his body arching with the power of the orgasm. For a moment, he shook like a rag doll. He was dimly aware Lysander had moved his mouth to let Mollie have a turn and her lips around Flint’s cock were softer but just as insistent. A low cry burst in his throat as his orgasm seemed to click into another gear, spurting hard twice before it finally faded.

  “Can die now,” Flint said, and Lysander gently punched him in the stomach.

  “No you can’t, you selfish bastard.”

  Flint kissed Mollie, licked a smear of cum from her cheek then moved her so she straddled Lysander’s body, her knees on either side of his ribs, her face over his cock, while Flint crawled down the bed, pushed up Lysander’s legs and dropped his head to face Mollie. One quick kiss of those lips before she wrapped them around the head of Lysander’s heavily veined dick, and Flint groaned louder than Lysander. Flint threaded his fingers in her hair, trying not to push her down harder in the way Lysander liked—had liked.

  Was it possible to die of too much pleasure?

  Lysander was having difficulty concentrating on more than one thing at the same time. Mollie was swallowing against his cock, and Flint was rolling his balls around in his inventive mouth and doing things with his tongue that ought to be patented. Lysander stared at Mollie’s wet, pink, perfect fucking folds, knowing the moment he pressed his mouth there, he’d slide out of control. Then Flint wrapped his hand around the bottom of Lysander’s cock, squeezed hard, and the need to come receded enough for him to be able to drag his mind back into gear.

  He spread Mollie’s thighs, running his thumbs down the damp skin on either side of her sex, spreading her open and groaned. That tight, sweet rosebud of an arsehole…he swallowed hard. Had she ever been fucked there? He dragged his finger between her legs, picked up some of her cream and circled the pucker, braced for her either biting his cock in disgust, terror or…Oh fuck…wriggling against him. Now he was spoiled for choice. He wanted all of her, but in the brief period of time before he went supernova, what could he do?

  Stop fucking around and do something. He slid his finger between her folds, found the entrance to her bo
dy and pushed in just a little before pulling out. She groaned around his cock, Flint groaned around his balls and Lysander smiled against her. As he ran his tongue over her clit, he fucked her with his finger then fucked her with his tongue. His heart raced at the feel of her muscles pulling at him, and her mouth pulling at his cock. When he looked up and saw Flint kissing her, his stomach clenched. Watching her lick the glistening head of his dick, watching them pass his cock from one mouth to another, dragged a groan from deep inside him.

  He dropped back, found her clit again, circled it, caressed it with lightning fast flicks, and at the same time eased a cream-covered finger into her arse. One hard suck on her clit sent her flying. Her hips jerked and she released a long ragged cry that made his balls tighten. The sensation of her coming on his face sent his cock into meltdown. He kept his mouth on her sex, his finger in her butt, pulled her orgasm into him and released the tether on his own.

  The world went black, then white as his balls exploded and all he could hear was roaring in his ears. He let go of her and gripped the sheets on both sides as he kept coming and coming. It was as if two years had been rolled up into this one moment of release and they hadn’t even fucked each other yet.

  When Flint and Mollie crawled up to lie on either side of him, his heart was still pounding, his breathing still ragged.

  “How many nights of this before we die?” Lysander asked. “Nowhere near enough.”

  Flint lay snuggled at his side, his eyes closed and Lysander watched as sleep pulled him under, his breathing easing to a regular pattern, the lines fading from his face. He loved him so much it hurt. He’d never stopped loving him even after what had happened. Mollie was right, he’d punished himself by hiding away in Yorkshire, his only concession to his guilt was painting the windows in his studio that looked onto the garden.

  He turned to Mollie to find her watching him and whispered, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  Lysander wrapped his arms around them both and held tight. He felt safe for the first time in many years and he slid after Flint into oblivion.

  Mollie knew the guys were asleep but she’d never felt more awake in her life. Oh my God. She wanted to jump up and ricochet around the room like a pinball. She had never come like that before. Twice in quick succession? And to be honest, she felt like she could come again right now.

  Except… Mollie swallowed hard. All her life she’d tried to be good. Because of what had happened when she was a young girl, it had seemed even more important that she never put a foot wrong, never gave anyone an excuse to dislike her. She didn’t care that other kids thought she sucked up. She handed her homework in on time, was never late, did everything any adult asked her to do and didn’t ever answer back. Her report cards always said she was kind and helpful. Her friends thought the same. She went out of her way to do things for others. She was a good girl. She glanced at Lysander and Flint, their faces turned together, and her heart jolted. This wasn’t exactly being good.

  But guilt had evaporated. This was the perfect outcome. Lysander and Flint back together and her in the middle—well, not at the moment. But there was no more concern about her leading them on. What the three of them were doing wasn’t hurting anyone. Not exactly socially acceptable behavior but they were consenting adults. What they did was up to them.

  In the void left by the departure of guilt, other concerns crept in. Was this was the start of something or just a brief fling? Just as in the beginning of a hetero relationship, these opening moments had been adrenaline fueled highs of sexual attraction. They wanted each other now, but what if she was just a temporary glue? Now the guys were back together, they didn’t need her.

  At the other end of the scale, if being a three was what they all wanted, it still didn’t mean it would be easy. If Lysander and Flint were outed as bisexual, it probably wouldn’t matter, but—assuming she got another job—she taught little kids. A whiff of scandal and she’d get the sack.

  You’re overthinking, Mollie girl.

  But I don’t want to be their dirty little secret.

  You can’t have it both ways.

  She loved teaching but maybe she’d found something she liked more, or at least gave her more hope for the future. She slid out from under Lysander’s arm and shuffled to the bottom of the bed. With one knee between each of theirs, she leaned over and licked the head of Flint’s cock then the head of Lysander’s. Lysander tensed but Flint didn’t stir as she moved her mouth between them, rubbing their shafts on her face, kissing the tips, tonguing under the heads, dipping into the slits and letting the taste burst on her lips.

  When she looked up, it was Flint who watched with heavy lidded eyes, while Lysander’s remained closed. A sudden sense of power filled her with confidence. She pulled their swelling cocks closer together and Flint shifted onto his side to make it easier.

  “Lys…ander,” Flint whispered.

  “I’m not dreaming then?” Lysander asked.

  Mollie fluttered her tongue over the head of each of their cocks, then took just the tips in her mouth together. She’d never be able to do much more than that with both of them at the same time, but she swirled her tongue around the velvety crests and sucked, her mouth watering at the tang.

  “Christ,” Lysander said with groan and shifted onto his side.

  They threaded their fingers in her hair and she wrapped her fists around their dicks. She released Flint’s first and dropped her mouth over Lysander’s, running her tongue beneath the flange, then dipping her head to engulf as much of him as she could.

  “Oh God,” Lysander gasped.

  His cock hit the back of her throat and she gulped before pulling back and working on Flint.

  “You have no idea how hot you look,” Lysander said. “No idea how good this feels. You are the queen of multitasking.”

  Mollie smiled around Flint’s dick. She ran her hand up Lysander’s shaft, and dragged it down Flint’s. She sucked from head to head, brought both cocks together, rubbed them on her tongue, her cheeks, rolled her tongue over the tips, licked down their lengths and the two guys stared down at her, their breathing harsh and ragged, looking as though they’d just opened the best Christmas present ever.

  “Shit.” Lysander gave a loud groan. Flint arched his back, tightened his hold on her hair and they almost came together, long spurts of cum flooding Mollie’s mouth and spilling from her lips.

  She dragged her hand across her face and Flint pulled her up between them, licked the smears of cum from her skin and passed her to Lysander, who did the same.

  “Wow,” Lysander said.

  Flint turned her onto her back and leaned up on one elbow. He brushed his fingertips over her nipple and Mollie sucked in a breath.

  “Mollie like,” he said.

  “Mollie like everything,” she whispered.

  Lysander chuckled in her ear. “Remind me to give Jean-Paul a rebate on his rent.”

  She tensed and Lysander sighed.

  “Don’t do that. You know that’s not what I meant.” Lysander smiled at her. “You’re a magician.”

  She closed her eyes so at least they didn’t give her away but her heart thumped so hard she wondered if Lysander could see and hear it. That one word had the power to rock her world and not in a good way.

  Flint covered one breast with his hand, squeezed gently then dropped his mouth to take her nipple between his lips. When Lysander did the same on the other side Mollie whimpered.

  Make me forget.

  “So sweet.” Lysander looked at her as he fluttered his tongue over her breast.

  They played with her, teased her, licked and sucked her until she managed to push the magician from her mind, though she knew he’d never go completely. Her legs twitched as tension coiled inside her. The guys danced their fingers over her belly, down between her legs, and her breathing quickened. She came apart in a shower of sparks, muscles fluttering, jerking from the inside out.

  “That was three,” Lysander said. “Four
to go.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mollie clutched Flint’s hand as they ran back over the dam to Lysander’s house. They’d be back with her running gear before Lysander woke.

  “Lysander running… Not happen,” Flint said.

  “We’ll have to give him an incentive.” Mollie grinned.

  He smiled and followed her into the house.

  “Coffee?” Flint asked.

  “Okay. But I want to be back before Lysander wakes.”

  “Left note.”

  “I know.”

  The doorbell rang and Mollie flinched. She’d taken Lysander’s key.

  “Might be Lysander,” she said.

  Flint nodded.

  “For you,” Nikki yelled and Mollie heard her run upstairs.

  Mollie walked out of the kitchen carrying her coffee and dropped it when she saw who stood in the hall. “Lewin,” she gasped.

  “You do remember who I am then,” he said.

  She felt Flint come up behind but when he tried to move in front of her she held him back.

  “Moll…ee.”

  “’S’okay,” she muttered, knowing it wasn’t.

  Lewin sprang forward and grabbed her arm. As she struggled to get free, Flint tried to pull her away.

  “Stop…hit…Moll…ee,” Flint snapped.

  Lewin let go of her and hit Flint. Flint crashed into the hall table, fell to the ground and didn’t move.

  “Oh God.” Mollie dropped to Flint’s side but Lewin grabbed hold of her again and hauled her away.

  She kicked out, slapped at him with her free hand and screamed.

  “Shut the fuck up. Which is your room? Get your purse. We’re leaving.”

  Mollie fought to get free, Lewin hit the side of her head, and everything lost focus.

  * * * *

  Lysander hadn’t intended to fall asleep. He’d intended to spend all night fucking Mollie and Flint in as many positions as he or they could come up with, but when he opened his eyes, it was morning and neither Mollie nor Flint was in bed with him. There was no reason for him to think something was wrong but something told him there was. He pushed up on his elbows and listened. There was no sound of them in the bathroom. Pissed off that they’d left without waking him, he took a fast shower, and as he dressed, spotted a note on the floor.