by Jenna Payne
“Wear something sexy,” Joshua said gruffly.
Stacie blushed, and was about to reply when the men paced from the café. She stayed long enough to finish her coffee, and then disappeared into the winter night. Her thoughts were racing. They may be dragons and this may be insane and the world may have gone all topsy-turvy and logic may no longer exist but at least I get to, finally, go on something resembling a grown-up date. It beats the rutting at college and the sweaty frat boys and the disappointment and the ennui of taking an Arts course and realizing life was not that artful, after all.
‘Wear something sexy,’ he’d said.
She just hoped she had something sexy.
*****
The dream was beautiful, something to be cherished. She was a goddess in the dream, something otherworldly. In the dream, she was somebody who could not be told what to do and when to do it. In the dream she felt invincible, and now she had discovered that the dream was not just a dream; it was a portal into a strange part of reality. But there was a problem with that. Sometimes, the dream ended badly. Sometimes, she was soaring over America only to clip her wing on the side of an airliner and toppling face-down toward the ground, and then she would plummet, plummet. Bolting upright in bed, sweat glistening on her skin, she would pant heavily and tell herself it was just a dream. It was a comfort, and it helped her return to sleep. But now… it was not a dream. She would fly, yes, but did that mean she would fall, too?
She tried to push these thoughts from her mind as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, but they wouldn’t budge. Oh look at you Stacie, all profound because you’re a victim of your own dreams. Oh how beautiful you’re living the poetic and profound life you always wanted and now you have two men who want you. How did you do it!
She giggled at herself and then turned on her side and closed her eyes, tight. She wouldn’t allow her delusions of falling to ruin what could be the best date of her life. With Ragnar- and never mind that that was clearly not his name- and Joshua. She knew what men, and some women, called a woman who went with two men. But she didn’t care. Her excitement was too big.
Her fear was, too.
Michael’s fingers were like pink pieces of fat; pure fat, unconnected to any human body. They were like overfed worms, or air-filled snakes. Stacie wasn’t sure how they moved without constantly getting in the way of each other, like piglets clambering for their mother’s teat. She knew he was speaking, was saying something disgusting, but she couldn’t take her eyes off those fingers. She had the urge to turn and run whenever she saw them wriggling.
With an effort, she made herself listen. “I need you, Stacie,” he said. He was old and fat and mean and Stacie wanted nothing more than to hit him or flee.
“I’m—” For some bizarre reason, she didn’t want to shut this man down. He would get upset, and Stacie wasn’t a fan of making people upset; even people who deserved it. But she had to do this. She took a deep breath, met Michael’s eyes, and said, clearly, unconfused, “No. Not now, not ever. You are too old. I am not interested. Please stop talking to me.”
There it was; clear, concise, and in plain words. There was no way, even his mind, could morph that into something else.
Suddenly, his teeth were bared and he was leaning forward in his chair. “Slut,” he barked. “You’ll pay for this.”
“Go back to your desk,” Stacie said, struggling to keep her voice level. “Or I’ll contact human resources.”
With a grumble, Michael the Fat Old Pervert, waddled back to his desk.
Though she was shaken by the incident at work, Stacie still wanted to go on her date with Ragnar and Joshua. She had dreams of falling to her death; dreams that were most likely connected to these men. And she had been sworn at and insulted at work. But still, all she wanted to focus on, to hone her attention to a fine point on, was what dress she would wear tonight, and how dinner would work. She had never had a date with two men before. Would she sit in the middle? Or would she sit at one side of the table and them on the other? If they held hands, would they all hold hands? Was there some kind of system in place for things like this, or was she just going to take it as it came?
She got a text from Joshua telling her they would pick her up in two hours. That gave her lots of time to prepare. She thrust Michael’s piggy fingers and pug face from her mind and concentrated on the task at hand. She emptied her closet in the hopes of finding something suitable. She did this every time she had to dress nicely. She emptied her entire closet and walked up and down the bedroom, with her hands behind her back, like a general surveying his troops, casting stern and disgusted eyes on them.
Wear something sexy, he’d said. And in the dream, your wings snap and you fall… fall, until there is nowhere else to fall except the ground, and your skull is crushed and there is Fat Michael, laughing at you, calling you that horrible S-word. She shook the thoughts from her mind and picked up a red sparkly dress. She hadn’t worn it in a couple years, and wasn’t sure it would still fit.
Turned out it did, with a bit of squeezing. She put on some short heels- long heels never agreed with her- and then sat at her vanity table to do her makeup. She made her eyes dark; because that’s how she felt, and made her cheeks red and flushed; like she’d just been out in the cold. Then her phone was ringing. She answered to Joshua’s Texan twang. “Outside,” he said.
She stood before the mirror and smoothed her dress down. A scared, excited, slightly horny woman stared back at her. She walked down the stairs to Ragnar and Joshua, with the distinct feeling that she was walking into a new life. This was a life that could end in flight, or end in… but she wouldn’t think about that now.
Ragnar was outside the car. He was wearing a black suit with a tie. Joshua was behind the wheel. He was wearing a blue shirt, all raggedy and untucked. Ragnar opened the door for her and she climbed in. Then he went around to the other side and climbed into the back with her.
“Let’s go,” he said, and Joshua drove.
Stacie liked to think of herself as a fully grown woman, not a girl. She liked to think she had come to terms with life and could no longer be reduced to girlishness. But she almost squealed when she saw the inside of the restaurant. The chandeliers were the main source of her delight. They dangled from the ceiling like diamond earrings, reflecting the light with beacon-intensity, spraying it outward. Three of the beautiful, glittering things hung from the ceiling, sparkling so bright it was hard to look at them.
The carpet was like something from ancient Egypt, all fur and fluffy, like a blanket you just wanted to curl up in and sleep forever. On the walls there were expertly painted pictures of landscapes of faraway lands; rolling hills, bubbling volcanoes and steam-filled mountain lakes. The tables were a marble-like material, though Stacie was nowhere near bourgeois enough to know what kind of marble.
She sat at one end of a table and the two men sat at the other. The waiter asked if they would like to order anything and Joshua, without asking anybody else, ordered champagne. For some reason, Stacie liked that he hadn’t waited to ask their opinion. It probably said something messed-up about her, she thought. But right now, she didn’t care. The champagne was brought over and poured and the three of them began to look through the exceedingly posh menu, with calligraphy of which a queen would be proud.
Stacie wondered how two drifter-dragons afforded a restaurant like this, but she didn’t want to ask it right now. She would ask them, later, maybe even later tonight, but in this moment all that existed were her and the two men opposite her. There was no falling and no Fat Michael and no dead dad, no drama-seeking mom. She knew by the way the waiter looked at her that he expected her to order some weird salad that was one ultra-thin leaf away from nonexistence.
“Steak,” she said. “Medium.”
Joshua smiled at that. “I’ll have the same,” he said.
Ragnar nodded. “Three steaks.”
The waiter smiled and sidled off to inform the cook of the debased woman
who’d ordered a steak. Then it was just the three of them and a bottle of champagne. The steaks were brought out and they were digging into delicious food, and laughing and joking and the night was turning into a bubbly haze. Stacie knew this wasn’t enough to earn trust. This was just a nice dinner. That was all.
But that didn’t stop her imagination, did it? When her heart began to pound and her body began to feel fire-hot.
Hell no, that didn’t stop her.
She knew it was happening when the bubbles had muddled their heads for an hour. Glass after glass of champagne they had drank and there was no sign of stopping. She didn’t want to stop, didn’t need to stop. In fact, she felt if she did stop she would do something to destroy the best night of her life. Did she trust these men? No. Did she want to fuck these men? Yes. Did that make her a slut? Did that make Fat Michael right? She didn’t care. If she did care, she wouldn’t worry about it right now.
You are getting good at putting your emotions on hold, dear Stacie. Is this it? Is this the fall? Is this when you come crashing down? Or does that come later? Is this night the flight? Even her inner-voice was a pest then easily shunned and quieted. Joshua leaned across the table with a hunger in his eyes she had never seen before in a man. It was more the look of a bear sighting its prey. It was a hunger that said he wanted to devour her, to tear into her, to take her right there in the restaurant. Ragnar regarded her coolly, like a tactician, casually glancing at her breasts. The only sign that he was excited was the constant tap-tap-tap of his forefinger.
She could have stopped it right there, could have said she wanted to go home, she didn’t know these men, she needed more time to think, this wasn’t like her, she was not that kind of girl. She could’ve done all of that but she did not. Instead, she leaned over the table so the men could see down the front of her dress. She was gratified when their eyes widened in lust.
“Take me somewhere private,” she said.
Ragnar laid down a wad of bills and stood from his chair. Joshua was already walking through the restaurant like a man on a mission. Ragnar held out his arm and Stacie took it. A few people eyed them as they left the restaurant, but Stacie ignored it all. She concentrated instead on the firm press of Ragnar’s arm, and the promised pleasure in his heavy breathing. Her legs were trembling. She told herself it was the champagne. Knowing that wasn’t true, she climbed into the car.
The reptilian yellows of their eyes were even clearer now. Joshua drove off into the night, fast. The engine thrumming beneath them enhanced their excitement. Soon they were at a hotel. Ragnar climbed out and offered Stacie his hand. She took it and felt a jolt of electricity pass between them.
Then she was standing in the elevator, going up, up.
Her thoughts racing. She snickered to herself. Will I also go down?
*****
She had never been this horny in her life. All she wanted was to feel one of the men inside her. The disconcerting thing was that there was not one man with whom she wanted to make love. Make love? No, with whom she wanted to fuck. She wanted either of them, or both of them. She didn’t care where or in which order. She knew what that made her, what people would shout at her if they knew, but suddenly those concerns seemed unimportant. Even the fear of falling was draining away. Even Fat Michael’s vindictive words now seemed pointless. All that mattered was this hotel room and one half-scale and her two Drakes.
Joshua grabbed her as soon as she was through the door of the lavish hotel room. He half-dragged, half-led her to the bed. Then he was pushing her down so she was lying on her back. She opened her legs, showing the tops of her thigh highs and her practically non-existent underwear. His eyes were drawn to her body and he devoured every inch of her; with his eyes, with his presence, with the animal urge behind his every movement. Ragnar walked around to the side of the bed, slid his hand down her hair, her cheek her neck and over her chest. He began rubbing her breasts. At first over her dress, then slid his hand under her dress and under her lacy, demi bra. She loved her demi bra as it gave her breasts an added push up. Ragnar caressed, pinched and tweaked her nipples and Stacie’s back arced up off the bed.
Joshua dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, pulled Stacie’s underwear off in one brutal yank and dropped them to the floor. He pulled her legs apart as she spread her legs for him. Her heart was pounding. Every inch of her body was electrified from Ragnar and Joshua’s touches. She moaned as Joshua pressed his face between her thighs and his scruff tickled her skin. Stacie spread her legs wider, urging him closer. Stacie squirmed as he licked and kissed and nipped his way up her thighs. Joshua wrapped his hands around her outer thighs and held her legs in place. She loved being handled so assertively by both men. They were in charge but not obnoxious about being in control. They knew pleasure and were showing her just how good it could be with them. Joshua moaned as he kissed her, getting closer and closer to her extremely aroused core. “God Stacie you smell intoxicating.” Stacie blushed, embarrassed. Ragnar kissed her ear and whispered, “Don’t blush sweetheart. I can smell your arousal too, it’s so hot.”
Ragnar slid his hands down her arms and intertwined his fingers with Stacie’s. Joshua pressed his tongue against swollen clit and sucked it hungrily into his mouth. Stacie hissed at the intense surge of pleasure. He moaned deep and long against her skin. Stacie felt his hot, thick, wet tongue surge inside her and she was lost. She bit down on her lip lest she scream and alert the whole floor of the hotel of her pleasure.
She squeezed her fingers in Ragnar’s grip and thrust against Joshua’s hungry mouth. He devoured every wet inch of her. He licked her frantically, and then slipped his middle finger into her vagina, deep. Stacie writhed and gyrated on his finger, and then Ragnar was pulling her dress up and over her head and she was naked… for them. Both men devoured every inch of her body with their eyes and Stacie was not embarrassed, her arousal intensified at their hungry stares.
Stacie couldn’t wait. She wanted… no, needed Joshua inside her. She moaned louder and louder until her wordless moans formed sentences. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me now.”
Joshua didn’t need to be asked twice. Almost as soon as she’d uttered the words he was standing up and pulling his belt open and popping the button of his pants open. Stacie watched, intently. Joshua’s eyes were riveted to Stacie’s as he slid his hand over the bulge in his pants and then squeezed himself. “Is this want you want baby?” Stacie’s heart was pounding and she felt another surge of arousal oozing out of her body. God she loved when a man touched himself for her. She nodded her head for Joshua and watched as he pulled down his zipper and pulled his pants apart. Commando. Oh God he’s big. He was going to kill her. But what a way to go. Joshua saw her startled expression at his commando state or his big cock and winked at her. His rock-hard cock thrust away from his body.
He was thick and long and the tip was shiny with pre-cum. Stacie licked her lips slowly as she watched Joshua push his pants over his ass and down his thighs. “Fuck me now Joshua.” Stacie bent her knees and spread her legs wider for Joshua. He smirked at her. Wrapped his hand around his shaft, and stroked as he stared between her legs.
Ragnar kept sucking her nipples, but now he dragged one of her hands, still entwined with his fingers, and rubbed both their hands over his also rock hard cock through his jeans. She pressed her fingers against his cock and rubbed him hard, and felt a thrill of pleasure when she felt him moan deeply against her skin. His breath was hot and he was panting.
Joshua’s shirt was off and his pants were still wrapped around his thighs. Oh. She hoped he fucked her like that. Urgent. Can’t wait to take his pants off, needs to be inside her urgent. She wanted to be ravished. Devoured. Fucked within an inch of her life… ok well maybe not that extreme.
Joshua leaned over her body, hand still wrapped around his shaft and rubbed up against Stacie’s hot, swollen core. Her vagina was aching for him. She wanted him deep inside her pussy. She moaned. He thrust. She gasped. He groaned. Stac
ie wrapped her legs around Joshua and thrust back hard, and fast. “God Stacie, you’re hot and so wet, feels amazing.” Joshua pushed up on his arms and stared down where their bodies were joined. He moaned and said, “Shaved.” And began thrusting in earnest, and intensely.
Stacie met him thrust for thrust. He pounded into her body harder, faster, and deeper. “Your scent is calling me Stacie.” Joshua moaned and Stacie could feel him growing thicker and harder inside her. It was such a turn-on. Stacie moaned. “You feel incredible Joshua.”
They were a medley of thrusting, panting and moaning. Their bodies were slamming hard against each other. Both men were watching her intently and Stacie slid her hands up to her breasts and toyed with her nipples. She twisted and teased them and both men groaned.
She slid one hand down her body and rubbed where she was joined with Joshua. He thrust into her deep and groaned. Stacie rubbed her clit as Joshua thrust over and over. Her body was tingling and she told Joshua not to stop. He was frantically fucking her and breathing deeply. Joshua moaned and stopped moving. Stacie felt him expand and pulse inside her. Oh god, he was coming… inside her. “Fuck, yes.” She groaned and orgasmed with Joshua. She felt the butterflies intensify in her stomach, her thighs tightened and she clenched over and over around Joshua, who was still buried deep inside her, pulsing every last drop inside Stacie. The heat was intense.
Ragnar was beside them, pants open and stroking his cock. His hand was making slick noises as he slid his hand up and down his shaft. Joshua pulled out of Stacie’s body and slumped against the bed beside her. Ragnar moved around the bed, to the end. He reached behind his neck and pulled his dress shirt and t-shirt off in one sweep, dropping them to the floor. “I need inside you right now, Stacie. Turn over.” He commanded in a deep, gruff voice laced with arousal.
