by K D Grace
‘Pretty much.’ Paulo moved into the room and leaned against one of the bed’s four posts.
‘Did you bring her?’
‘Jim did. Liza’s with Coraline at the moment.’
Angelo’s lips curled into a half smile, but he still didn’t move his hand or stop stroking his cock. ‘Giving her the grand tour, is she?’
‘Wants to make sure everything is above board so you can’t pull any more surprises out of your ass.’
Angelo chuckled wickedly. ‘Oh I have plenty of surprises still, and I don’t need to pull them out my ass, though I certainly could if our lovely Liza is into that sort of thing.’
‘Why don’t you just admit, she got to you tonight?’ Paulo said, then he immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
‘I’d say she got to both of us, bro, and you unwilling to share your toys. Therein lies the problem. Didn’t your mother teach you better?’
Paulo bristled. ‘Liza’s not my toy.
‘Did you ask her?’ This time, Anglo moved his hand and pulled himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. ‘Did you ask her if she wanted to be our toy? I don’t think she would say no, Paulo, and I think that’s what really bothers you.’
Paulo sat down onto the bed next to him and shoved back against the headboard. ‘Oh I don’t think she wants to be a toy for either of us.’ He nodded down to Angelo’s cock. ‘I think the truth is, our Liza, as you so affectionately refer to her, would prefer for both of us to be her toys.’
Angelo raised an eyebrow and stopped stroking. For a long moment he sat in silence, then he shrugged. ‘I suppose I could live with that. Though I would enjoy tying her up and giving her some proper discipline. You certainly seemed to enjoy it last night.’
For a moment the two men sat in silence. The only sounds in the dungeon were their breathing and the skin on skin stroke of Angelo’s hand once again sliding up and down the length of his cock. Paulo was startled to realize that he recognized Angelo’s scent. Even in a darkened room, he would have recognized Angelo’s scent. He took a deep breath and held it, taking in the smell of the man he had known for a good deal of his life. Clearly he hadn’t bathed since he finished the experiment at Ostia Antica. In spite of his come-on to Liza, Paulo was sure that the experience had shaken him and that, rather than going to his flat, he had come here to think. Angelo spent more time at The Mount’s villa than any of the other members. There was a small suite set aside for him upstairs, as there was for all of the High Council members, but most of the time, if one of the dungeons was free, that’s where he ended up. Paulo sniffed again. Angelo smelled of sex and the kind of male perspiration that was clean, if a bit threatening. Paulo wondered if he sniffed a little harder he could still find Liza’s scent on him.
Angelo huffed a throaty laugh and lifted his arm so that Paulo could see the soft auburn fluff beneath, dampened and curling slightly. ‘Is our Liza giving you sniffing lessons?’ Then the smile on his face slipped and his eyes darkened. ‘You’re wondering if you can smell her on me.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘She likes the way you smell,’ Paulo said.
Angelo sniffed his armpit, his hand still working his cock. Then he leaned over and sniffed Paulo. ‘She tell you that, did she?’
Paulo didn’t answer.
‘That what set you off about me? Not that it usually takes much.’
Again Paulo didn’t answer. Where Angelo was concerned, the history ran deep and thick between them, and it was definitely a mixed bag.
There was more silence. Paulo watched Angelo work his cock, breathed in the scent of the man who could have anyone he wanted pretty much any time – in The Mount and out. He doubted anyone smelled more sexual than Angelo, and that intrigued him. He found himself wanting to know what Liza had smelled. She said he smelled good when he taunted her. He couldn’t help wonder if on some unconscious level that it was pheromones that made Angelo so universally attractive. Was there a universal pheromone like there was a universal donor blood type? He’d ask Liza. But even he had to admit, Angelo was a good choice for their experiments, even if he was a pain in the ass. Paulo shifted on the bed, suddenly aware that his own cock was responding to Angelo’s efforts, to Angelo’s scent, and, with a start, he noticed Angelo was looking at his fly.
‘You gonna let that thing out or you gonna force it to bust free on its own?’ the man asked with a hint of a crooked smile.
‘Fuck off,’ Paulo mumbled, but even as he said it, his hand was already working on his fly. He could still feel Angelo’s gaze locked on him, even though he’d closed his eyes with a sigh, and leaned back against the headboard, focusing on the smells of the dungeon, the smells of two alpha males with testosterone to burn and each with enough emotional baggage to fill the cargo hold of a 747. His own he was only too well aware of, but Angelo’s; no one knew Angelo’s baggage except for Coraline. Coraline could gossip better than anyone he knew. She knew everything about everyone, but to Coraline a secret was sacred, and the woman bore both of their secrets as though she knew neither of them. It was only in her treatment of them, in the way she moved and worked in their lives that either of them was ever aware of what she so carefully held for them.
‘So tell me,’ Angelo shifted slightly, and Paulo felt his bunched thigh muscles rub against his own, jean against jean, and the rustle of clothing told him he was probably freeing his balls. The shifting of shoulders let him know that the man had now engaged both hands in his efforts. ‘Tell me what you smell. I can hear you sniffing, Paulo. You’re not very subtle.’
‘Testosterone amped up by pheromones and a good hand job smells like a desert lightning storm with just a hint of diesel.’
They both opened their eyes with a start that made the solid wood beneath them groan. Liza stood at the foot of the stairs, nostrils flared, eyes bright, mouth slightly open like a cat taking in the scent of prey. ‘Don’t stop,’ she said. ‘Please. I’m in heaven.’
There was a mutual groan, and Paulo was sure that the thought of their scent being heaven to Liza Calendar made both men hot enough to self-combust.
‘What do you smell?’ Angelo asked. Paulo could hear the ache in his voice, and it surprised him.
‘I smell the hot metal of anger, but it’s anger cooling, the acidic bite of jealousy has nearly worn itself out. I smell evergreen and dry grass in the summer sun. I smell hot, damp earth.’ She stepped closer on tiptoes as though her footfalls might disturb her sense of smell. ‘I smell that yeasty scent of new-made bread. That’s such a masculine smell, a cock smell, a warm, damp, tetchy smell.’ When at last she stood with her thighs resting against the bed frame, she caught her breath. ‘And then I smell me. I smell the nutmeg of my intrigue at finding the two of you masturbating in the dungeon, I smell the honey butter of my arousal, the strong tea scent of impatience, of satisfaction denied.’
‘Fuck,’ Angelo whispered, and somehow it sounded like a plea for help.
She looked around the room and found the ladder-back chair Angelo had been sitting in when she was there last night. She pulled it next to the bed and sat down. ‘Please don’t stop,’ she said again. Her voice was breathless as she pulled their scent into her. At first Paulo thought he was imagining her shifting and rocking against the chair, it was so subtle. But he certainly wasn’t imagining the bullet points of her nipples straining against the deep scoop of her dress, and he was sure he could smell her. He sniffed and Angelo sniffed. They all sniffed.
Angelo shifted again and shoved his trousers down until his ass was bare against the thin leather padding of the bed.
‘We need this,’ she said, as Paulo did the same. ‘Martelli needs this. The smell of two men – the testosterone, the phenomenal jolt will drive women, and men, crazy. There’s a reason why women like reading male/male erotica,’ she said. ‘Imagine if they could smell it? Imagine if they could wear that scent, or have their lovers wear that scent? Man squared.’
‘Or if they could pick
up someone in a bar wearing that scent,’ Angelo added. His laugh sounded raw, like it was raked through with sandpaper. ‘Come on, Liza Calendar. It’s hardly fair for you to sit there and watch us have a wank and not return the favour.’ Before Paulo could decide if he liked the idea of Liza masturbating in front of Angelo, the man addressed him. ‘What do you think, Paulo? Wouldn’t you like to watch our lovely Ms Calendar get her rocks off? Wouldn’t you like to see how she plays with herself while she sniffs a little male/male?’
For a second, Paulo had forgotten how to speak, so he nodded, then babbled that yes, he would like that, and he realized he really would, and he really didn’t mind that Angelo Serafini was watching. In fact the whole idea was pretty fucking hot.
A lovely pink blush started just between Liza’s breasts and rose over their rounded tops like the ripening of fruit in the sun as it climbed her neck and caressed her cheeks.
At first she cupped hard at her left breast, as though it suddenly pained her, as though it caused her discomfort, as though it didn’t sit quite right in the lacy bra he could imagine her wearing underneath. Angelo sucked breath between his teeth as she lifted her bottom from the seat of the chair and, with her eyes locked on them, she reached up under the skirt of her dress and wriggled out of her panties, then toed them off over her shoes, demurely keeping her knees together.
‘Fuck,’ Angelo whispered again. Paulo suspected that his vocabulary had become just as reduced by the riptide presence of Liza Calendar as his own had.
After that, she avoided their gaze, not in a shy or embarrassed way so much as a way that said she was having a private moment whether the two men on the bed were watching her or not and, Christ, that made it so much hotter than if she’d played the porn star and acted like she was flirting with the camera, like she was flirting with them. Instead, Liza focused wholly on the olfactory experience of the two of them on the bed and what it was causing to happen between her legs, at that delicious juncture hidden above her thighs. She squirmed, and then frowned as though she couldn’t quite get comfortable on the seat. The hand kneading her breast had worried the nipple to an obscene press against the fabric as she wriggled and sniffed and wriggled and sniffed some more. When her other hand began to ease its way up under the hem of the dress, Paulo had to thumb the end of his cock to keep control. In his peripheral vision, he could see Angelo doing the same.
Liza made no attempt to hide the fact that she was sniffing them, testing their scent, learning it, using it to heighten her arousal. All the while she shoved and scrunched at the dress until there was just a tight wad of fabric crushed in her palm up close and personal against her bare mons, obstructing the view of what Paulo and Angelo were both aching to see. The palm pressed, scrunched and relaxed, pressed, scrunched and relaxed in a motion that had to feel oh so good and yet not good enough. She sucked in a heavy breath and released it in a little whimper, then shifted until she could pull the fabric out from under her bottom. And when all that obstructed their view was her hand and the scrunched wad of fabric beneath it, she looked up at them, as though she’d only just realized they watched, as though begging their permission to indulge. Of course she had it. She shoved the fabric aside and looked down at her tightly trimmed curls as though this were the view she had also been waiting for. There was a collective moan from all three of them as she shifted again and opened her legs wide. With her eyes still locked on her mons, she slid her index and middle fingers down either side the heavy folds of her labia and pulled herself open.
Angelo released a strangled groan and Paulo went into shallow breathing mode to keep from coming as she began to thumb the garnet red press of her clit while slipping the two fingers up into her wetness, dipping and thrusting and rubbing until they glistened with her juices, and the smell of female heat joined the male-dominated scent in the dungeon. She bit her lip and wriggled her hips so that their view between her splayed legs was all the way back nearly to her anus. Then she uttered a little sigh. ‘Can you smell us all together, the three of us? My God, I want this scent! I want to wear this scent all over my body. And I want more, and …’ She looked up at them and caught her breath in a little sob ‘… I want it all blended together.’ Her eyes locked on Paulo, and this time he understood. He understood that she was asking permission to play. Next to him, Angelo had stopped moving, stopped breathing, almost as though he had turned into the same marble from which the statue of Hercules in Ostia Antica had been sculpted. To his credit, he said nothing. There were no rude comments, no egging on. Paulo took one breath, then another, and with each he took in her tidal pool and honey scent and the dark scent of male rubbing up against male, and he yielded.
He reached out his hand to her and her moan came out a little gasp as she closed her fingers around his and let him pull her onto the bed, her dress still bunched up around her waist, her breasts still threatening to heave themselves over the scoop of the bodice.
Angelo’s groan sounded nearly painful as he reached for her, impatient, and yet careful, as though he were afraid she still might run. The wallow of her on top of the two of them threatened the safety of cocks and balls before both men realized she was making space for herself in between, but not to sit as they did, rather to kneel. At first her mouth found Paulo’s with a devastating kiss that nipped and pushed and shoved its way into his mouth. And while she kissed him, she guided Angelo’s hand to her breast. He leaned forward to kiss and lick her collar bone, one hand fumbling for the zipper up the back of her dress, and once it was open, he tugged at it and the front hook of her bra until her breasts tumbled free into his hands, but not before she turned her attention to his mouth with the same devastation. Paulo had no time to feel the loss, as she guided his hand up into the velvety wet splay of her pussy, and he found himself once again battling for control.
‘Can you smell us? Can you smell us? Oh God, can you smell us?’ she whispered against Angelo’s mouth, and both men nodded dumbly, as their hands went exploring and she seesawed between them, her tongue first in Paulo’s mouth, then in Angelo’s, her fingers curled in their hair, pulling them to her mouth, darting back and forth as though she were testing two of her favourite dishes. ‘Can you smell us?’ With each kiss, she drew them both closer to her. ‘Oh God, can you smell us?’ And with each kiss the mingling of their breath in that place in the middle was a maelstrom of moist heat and hunger. Their heads were all but touching, shoulders were pressed to pectoral muscles, stomach muscles fought each other for space in their effort to pump oxygen, in their effort to get closer to any delicious part of Liza Calendar. ‘Can you smell it?’ she breathed the words half into Paulo’s mouth, half into Angelo’s. ‘Can you smell what I want? Surely you both have to smell it.’ With a wet slide of a kiss that crossed boundaries and glided over both their mouths and settled in between, her fingers curled to tight fists in their hair and with a whimper of need, she pulled back just enough that Paulo’s lips brushed Angelo’s, just enough that Angelo’s tongue glided across Paulo’s lower lip.
There was a harsh sucking of breath and the woman between them shivered. ‘Oh God yes! Oh fuck! You have to be able to smell that. It takes up all the breathing space. It’s like downing in lust.’ For a frozen moment, Angelo pulled away from Paulo just enough that the two men were nose to nose in their out-of-focus effort to search each other’s face for permission. Then Liza’s fists tightened in their hair, and the none-too-gentle pressure of her hands all but forced their mouths together again. The snake and glide of Paulo’s tongue in between Angelo’s lips, the yielding and opening of Angelo’s mouth combined with the slip of the man’s large hand to cradle the back of Paulo’s neck and pull him deeper into the kiss might as well have been a gigantic ‘permission granted’ sign.
Liza sniffed and breathed and nipped at jawbones and ears, resting a hand on each man’s outer shoulder in a three-way embrace. ‘I’m in heaven,’ she repeated. ‘I’m in absolute paradise.’
‘Fuck,’ Angelo whispered into P
aulo’s mouth. ‘Oh fuck.’
It was quite possible that Liza was the only one with even half her brain engaged at the moment, as she shifted and shoved to move her way down their bodies while they explored each other’s mouths. Christ, it had been a long time since Paulo and Angelo had done anything even close to having sex with each other. Paulo was just thinking how good it felt when Liza simultaneously gave both of their sacs a cupping then fisted a cock in each hand and both men nearly skyrocketed off the bed. For a heartbeat, she held both of them, and Paulo was pretty sure he had totally forgotten how to breathe. Then she released their cocks and, did they both actually growl? But they needn’t have felt bereft. It took her a second to shrug the rest of the way out of her bra and dress, the latter she used as a towel, wiping it up over both their bellies in turn and then down under their balls and over the length of their erections. Then she pulled the dress to her face and inhaled and moaned and inhaled again.
They were a captive audience, completely hypnotized by Liza Calendar’s orgy of scent, her seeming worship of their bodies through that scent. She shoved the dress to the side, but not so far that it wasn’t touching flesh, and then she got down to business. And fuck what a business it was! First, she took Paulo’s cock into her mouth deeper than he would have thought possible, and she sucked and licked, all the while pumping Angelo with her fist. And then she switched and sucked Angelo’s cock.
‘Woman …’ Angelo gulped breath between his teeth ‘… you keep that up there’s gonna be a quick finish, and I don’t know about you, but I like to make my fun last. Besides …’ he curled his fingers in her hair and grunted as she sucked particularly hard ‘… I want to know if that lovely cunt of yours tastes anywhere near as luscious as it smells.’
There was a quick wordless exchange between Paulo and Angelo, and all the years fell away. Both men moved in unison, grabbing Liza beneath the armpit and hauling her up the bed in between them. There was another flurry of three-way kisses and then Paulo reached beneath the bed and pulled out a hank of soft rope. Angelo did the same on the other side. Liza let out a little yelp of surprise, then inhaled that surprise quickly as though she wanted to see how the appearance of the rope, how the mix of surprise with a tiny bit of fear would set with her nose. Both men took the mmmm that sounded almost like a cat purr to mean that the scent was to her liking. It was as though they shared the same thoughts as they worked wordlessly to bind her spread-eagle to the bedposts. From somewhere Anglo produced a leather rolled pillow and slid it under her hips, lingering to pinch her clit. And chuckle his satisfaction at her hiss of a response.
