_Anthology - Love Bites

by _Anthology

  "Jesus!" She twisted around and kissed Trey again, then turned back, leaning down to lick her way into Ritchie's mouth before shoving him backward onto the bed. Ritchie lay flat, thighs spread and cock jutting toward his stomach. Toni unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, kicking it to the side. Then she knelt between his legs, running her nails up the inside of his thighs, which drew a gasp of pain/pleasure from him. She took Ritchie into her mouth, tight and wet around him, skill and familiarity combining to make him groan in delight, Trey momentarily forgotten. He closed his eyes, one hand slipping down to grab the top of her head, instinctively wanting to guide her. He didn't try, though, because he'd learned early that Toni moved at her own pace, and the faster you urged, the slower she moved.

  Ritchie felt the bed dip, and he opened his eyes just as Trey stretched out next to him. He smiled, giddy and high with lust and pleasure, any sense of strangeness or oddity fading away completely. "Hi."

  Trey smiled back, one large hand wrapping around the back of Ritchie's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It started off tentatively, but soon enough Ritchie was enveloped by the dual sensations of Toni’s mouth on his cock and Trey's tongue in his mouth. He bucked gently, one hand still resting on Toni’s head, the other clutching Trey's arm. He could easily come like this.

  Toni pulled off of him with a wet slurp, and Ritchie slid his mouth away from Trey and groaned in protest. She nipped the inside of his thigh, making him yelp and flinch. "Don't be greedy." She stood up, climbing into the bed on his other side. As soon as she pulled away, Trey rolled over on top of him, aligning their cocks. Ritchie could only groan again between pants as he thrust up against the unfamiliar weight, sensations overwhelming him. He'd been close to coming with Toni’s mouth on him, and the feel of their cocks sliding together, precome and saliva slicking the way, quickly brought him back to the peak. He could hear Toni talking in the background and he tried to focus, but nothing existed but the feel of Trey against him, over him, around him—heat and friction and pleasure—until he arched off the bed and came and came, liquid pulsing over their stomachs. Trey groaned and cursed, speeding up his thrusts, until he followed a few seconds later.

  They lay sprawled in the sheets, sweaty and sated for the moment. Toni leaned up on one elbow and gave them a smug grin. "I have the best ideas." They never talked about it. Never sat down and said, this is what it is. But the first night after, Trey came up with them and they all three went in the bedroom. He never slept on the couch again. Gradually they adjusted to each other, found out the pleasures and hazards of making three work where there'd only been two. Ritchie kept waiting for it to get weird or uncomfortable, but it never did. If anything, it felt like this was just the next step to things; it felt natural, though he was sure that plenty of people wouldn't agree. He could imagine the dropped jaws if he wrote home about his girlfriend and his boyfriend.

  ***

  Trey did a model twirl. "Well, what do you think?” Ritchie took in the tailored black slacks clinging nicely to Trey's firm thighs and ass, the jacket that fit perfectly over broad shoulders, and the silk shirt that pulled out the startling blue of his eyes. "I think you look...." Ritchie slid his arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss. "Fuckable."

  Trey grinned. "Yeah? Prove it." He pushed Ritchie back against the wall, and began rapidly unbuttoning the other man's shirt. Ritchie had his own hands under Trey's jacket, pulling his shirt out of his pants. The undressing was hampered by the frequent stops for kissing, but they were soon shirtless, and Trey's hand was down Ritchie's pants, while his own pooled around his ankles.

  "Starting without me, huh?"

  They looked over to find Toni leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a smirk on her face. They'd been so engrossed in each other, they'd never even heard her come in.

  "Well, get over here, then."

  She shook her head. "No, actually, I think I'll just stay here and watch."

  "Seriously?" "Oh yeah." She waved a hand. "Please, continue."

  *** It would pretty much be sacrilege not to make an appearance at the cast Christmas party, but they hadn't exactly been kind to their clothes earlier, and neither of them kept dressy stuff at Ritchie's place. In a misguided attempt to save time, they decided to shower together, which of course led to other things. They wound up getting there well after the party had started. The plan was to stay long enough to be polite, and then head out. They separated to mingle, and of course Ritchie found himself stuck listening to Walter Connors, the set gossip, basically, well, gossip about anybody and everybody, whether Ritchie knew them or not.

  "Whoa! Look at that."

  He glanced over to where Walt was pointing and saw Toni and Trey standing under the mistletoe, engaged in a kiss that made his cock twitch in an almost Pavlovian response. "Man, whose girlfriend is she, anyway? I mean, you know they used to be together, right?" Walt cocked a brow, and Ritchie could practically see the calculation behind the narrow, brown eyes. "You did know that, right?"

  Ritchie glared at him, and he held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey, look, I know you guys are the three Musketeers or Stooges or whatever, but I'm just saying, watch your back." Walt wandered off, presumably to cause more trouble elsewhere, though Ritchie was sure this little story would be added to his repertoire. He turned back to the scene across the room. Toni and Trey were arguing now, though Ritchie could tell by their expressions that it was nothing serious. It ended up with Toni screeching as Trey chased her around for a while, only to catch her and swing her into a back bend that led to them waltzing across the room toward him, giggling.

  Maybe he should feel jealous, but he didn't. He felt...connected, and that was the problem. He looked at them, and it was one of those moments of epiphany that he thought only happened in the movies. He realized that he loved them—was in love with them. His first thought was that he could stay like this forever. His second thought was 'fuck no!' because this was a fling, it wasn't serious, it was them playing around. It wasn't supposed to last forever, wasn't going to. Sooner or later Toni and Trey would get serious about each other again, and he'd be left with his nose pressed against the window. If he was lucky they'd stay friends, but he couldn't hope for more than that.

  Lying in bed that night with them snuggled against him, he realized that the smart thing to do would be to get out of this now. He just had to figure out a way to do it that hopefully left them still friends. He spent the rest of the night awake, conscious of the weight of Toni’s head on his shoulder, of Trey's arm across his stomach, savoring them, aware that this might be the last time he ever had this.

  Ritchie had never broken up with anybody before—in his limited romantic life, he'd always been the dumpee, and he was beginning to feel a certain sympathy now for the dumper. It was hard. He'd look at them, and he could never get the words out. Finally, he decided the best thing to do was to just kind of ease out of the equation. He took a small part in an off-Broadway play that took up his evenings, canceled breakfast and lunch meetings frequently, and somehow managed to just…not be available. He met their questions and frustration with a feigned innocence, always suggesting they just go ahead without him. Meanwhile, he tried to gird himself for the time when they stopped asking.

  Finally, Toni cornered him on the set while they were waiting for them to redo some props for their scene. "We need to talk, Ritchie."

  "Okay, so talk."

  She crossed her arms. "Don't play stupid, because I will have this conversation right here."

  He believed her, too. Toni might be the mature, responsible one, but she was also the one with the most balls. He agreed to meet them at the restaurant, because he knew anywhere private and he wouldn't be able to stick to his convictions. He felt the now-familiar pang when he watched them walk in together. Trey had an arm around Toni’s waist, and she fit against him perfectly, with no room— certainly not for him, anyway—between them.

  They sat down, Trey next to him and Toni across the ta
ble, and he had to look away at the pain in her eyes. It wasn't that they didn't care about him, he knew that, and he hated that he was taking the coward's way out, but his life was already wrapped up around them to the exclusion of pretty much everything else. If it was this bad now, after knowing them a year, after the three of them had been together only a few months, he could see what it would be like at the inevitable conclusion.

  "What the fuck is going on with you? Why'd you go?" Toni cut straight to it.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, I'm right here." Maybe he could bluff this out.

  Trey shook his head. "Bullshit! We practically have to make an appointment just to see you, and even when you're with us, you're not with us." He stared at them both miserably, and thought about lying, and saying he was uncomfortable or bored, or hell, even that he'd met somebody else. He thought about protecting himself even more, but they at least deserved the truth. None of this was their fault. "Because I'm in love with you."

  They looked at each other, communing in that silent way they had that made him feel the years between them. Trey draped an arm casually across the back of the booth and it was all Ritchie could do not to flinch away. Touching either of them, even casually, would be a really bad idea. "Which one of us?"

  He shook his head, staring down at the table fiddling nervously with his silverware. "Both of you."

  Trey sighed. "Well, that ain't exactly a reason to run off, son." Ritchie finally looked up, glancing between them. "I just...I know the deal, okay? A good time all around and no hard feelings except it's more than that for me now, and I'm not blind. I know how the two of you feel about each other. I thought it was better to get out before it got too serious, before I got too serious."

  "Ritchie, you're kidding, right?" Toni reached across the table and took his hand. "You know how it is with the two of us. We love each other yeah, but Trey and I are like day and night. You're the dawn that transitions it."

  Trey snickered. "Real poetic, baby."

  "Fuck you." She used her other hand to shoot him the finger.

  Trey grinned at her. "Any time." Ritchie couldn't stop the grin that escaped, couldn't stop the hope bubbling up, even though he told himself not to listen to them. Trey slipped a hand under the table and put it on Ritchie's thigh, squeezing lightly.

  "She's right. We tried this off and on for like ten years and it didn't work, we didn't work—until you." He shrugged. "You fit, okay? You make us fit better. It wasn't a plan, you know that, but we...all three of us...we work."

  ***

  Epilogue: A small item appeared the next day on page six. It mentioned that the three of them, who were frequent companions, were witnessed in a very heated discussion at a restaurant, before leaving together. There was nothing noted about Toni’s hand in his on the table, or Trey's on his thigh under it. Whoever witnessed the incident wasn't privy to the way they could barely keep their hands off each other in the cab or how quickly they got naked once the door to the apartment— his because it was the closest—slammed shut. And there was never going to be anything about how he woke up this morning, surrounded by them.

  He trailed a hand over the love bites on his chest again, the slight soreness once more a pleasant reminder of last night. He was singing before he stepped into the shower, and he wasn't surprised when, a few minutes later, the curtain was pulled back and Toni stepped in, followed by Trey.

  Strong, soapy hands slid over his back. "We need to find a place with a bigger shower."

  Sharp nails trailed down his chest. "And while we're at it, a bigger bed."

  They could go apartment hunting tomorrow, but for now, he was enjoying having his lovers as close as possible.

  Oliver's Famous Clam Chowder By Erin O'Riordan

  Natalie emerged from the bathroom, clean and naked. Matthew was right where she’d left him, sprawled out on the bed. His eyes were glazed. He seemed to be staring straight ahead, but if Natalie looked closely, she could see that he was actually staring at his still-erect penis. Meditating, she was sure, on how she’d just rocked his world. Or wishing that there was time for a second round, as she was.

  Natalie went to her lingerie drawer and selected a matching bra and pair of panties. She put them on. As she walked over to her closet, Natalie kept her eyes on Matthew. How content he looked. She would have liked nothing more than to climb back into bed and press the entire length of her body against his. The smell of their mingled fluids still hung heavy in the air. She paused, considering burying her nose in the sweat-dampened black hair of Matthew’s chest.

  He surprised her by speaking. "When will the hags get here?" he asked. She couldn’t suppress a laugh. "Half an hour," she said. She took the gray silk sheath dress from its padded hanger and slipped it over her head. Dressed, she knelt on the bed and kissed Matthew’s rough cheek. "But you shouldn’t really talk that way about Martha and Jenny."

  "I’ll be ready," Matthew said, ignoring the second part. As he turned to face her, Matthew smiled, and Natalie’s heart fluttered. That smile promised so much.

  But what it promised would have to wait for later.

  "I’ve got to check on the roast," Natalie said. Matthew nodded. Still hard as a diamond, he rose from the bed and took his turn in the shower. Natalie paused to put on her makeup in the vanity mirror. Her long, chocolate-brown hair hung straight down, and she left it that way, adding only a choker of black freshwater pearls. She stepped into her shoes.

  In the kitchen, she discovered that the roast was coming along nicely. It was tender, without a hint of dryness. She checked on the liquid refreshments next. The bottle of dark red liquid rested in the warmer, held at perfect body temperature. Natalie’s mouth watered, but she resisted the temptation to pop the cork and take a taste.

  Matthew came in moments later, dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt and black pants. He came up behind Natalie and wrapped his arms around her. She eased back into him, inhaling his scent.

  "You look beautiful," Matthew said into her ear. "And the food smells delicious."

  "I need to put out the appetizers," Natalie said, suddenly remembering. She didn’t want to break free of Matthew’s arms. He let her go reluctantly, turning to stare out the window. It was a cloudless night, making the tiny sliver of the waning crescent moon stand out brilliantly. "Why did we make plans with Martha and Jenny tonight?" Matthew said out loud to himself.

  Natalie knew what he meant. Nights like this were designed for lovers. She was meant to stay in bed with Matthew until the sun crested over the hills. She felt a small stab of regret as she lifted the black-and-white serving tray from the refrigerator.

  She set the tray of neatly-arranged pinwheels of smoked salmon and soft white cheese on the bar. The doorbell rang, and Matthew went to answer it. Natalie followed him.

  Martha and Kelly crowded the door, huddled together. Kelly clung to Martha, but as Matthew greeted them, Martha dropped Kelly’s hand.

  "Good evening, ladies," Matthew said. "Come in." Martha, the taller and paler of the two, stepped in, smiling. She wore the feminine equivalent of Matthew’s white shirt and black pants, accented with wide silver hoop earrings and silver bracelets. Her calf-length leather boots were polished to a high shine. She stretched out her arms toward Natalie, and Natalie embraced her.

  "How have you been, Nat, dear?" Martha asked. "Anything exciting going on in your life? I mean, other than the plain fact that you’ve moved in with this—" She looked Matthew up and down. To most women, he would have seemed large and imposing. Martha, however, was built according to the Amazonian blueprint. "—This charming creature." She gave Matthew a carefully choreographed wink.

  Natalie was about to answer when Kelly cleared her throat. The petite, gray-eyed woman with bluntly cut blonde hair wore a red pleather jacket and matching pants with a pair of Timberlands. She stripped off her jacket, revealing a tight white tank, and used Matthew as a coat rack.

  Kelly sniffed. "You smell like a wet dog," she pronounced. "
It’s nice to see you again, Kelly," Matthew answered through gritted teeth. "Manners, Kelly," Martha said, narrowing her green eyes. "We are guests in Matthew’s home, and you know that Natalie and I have been friends for ages. Whatever you’re making for dinner, Nat darling, smells simply divine."

  "It’s a roast," Natalie said, as Matthew hung Kelly’s jacket in the coat closet. Natalie thought she heard a low growl as Matthew’s back was turned, but it may have been her imagination. "Please, make yourselves comfortable at the bar. Can I get you ladies something to drink?"

  "Something to drink," Martha repeated thoughtfully.

  "We never drink . . . wine," Kelly added, in her worst Bela Lugosi accent, as Martha smirked.

  "I have something I know you’ll like," Natalie said. She started to get it, but Matthew jumped up from his seat.

  "Let me get it," he said. "I’ll leave you three to catch up." He disappeared into the kitchen.

  "Have a salmon pinwheel," Natalie said, pointing out the black-and-white tray. She took a seat across from Kelly. Kelly snatched up one of the appetizers with each hand.

  "I just adore salmon," Martha said. "I just adore seafood in general. Tell me, Nat, have you and Matthew ever been to the shore together?"

  Natalie blushed. "A few times," she said. Martha and Kelly looked at one another conspiratorially. "There’s a little bed and breakfast on the shore, only an hour’s drive from here," Martha said. "It’s called the Horned Owl Inn. Ever been?"

  Natalie shook her head.

  "Oh, you have to go there," Martha said with rising excitement. "They have a restaurant there—"

  "They cater to our kind," Kelly pitched in.

  "Our kind our kind, or your kind our kind?" Natalie interjected, to Kelly’s utter bewilderment. Martha was about to clarify when Matthew reappeared. In one hand, he balanced a tray of empty wineglasses. In the other hand, he carried the bottle. Natalie rose to collect the glasses from the tray, and set one at each place. Matthew uncorked the bottle and poured.