Three Times a Lady [Hell's Delight 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Karen Mercury

  Noel’s fingers were equally as eager undoing the buttons of Ewan’s 501s. His palm massaged Ewan’s ball sac while his other mischievous hand squeezed Ewan’s throbbing dick. They had played this frotting game a few times as a new method of cock and ball torture, like teenagers seeing who could hold out the longest before spurting his load. It was a lascivious, tantalizing game that stirred every cell in Ewan’s being.

  Noel bit and kissed the underside of Ewan’s jaw. “Gaucho, I’ll take your cowshit any day over any other man’s gold.” Maybe he wanted to cover up the corniness of the moment, but now he reached behind Ewan for what turned out to be a lube tube. He trickled such a generous dribble of motion lotion over Ewan’s cockhead that the ticklish stuff slid over his balls. Already Ewan was alive with lust, craving more than anything that Noel would slather the berry-scented lube over his pulsing testicles. “I need Autumn and you, you fucking vaquero. You both complement different sides of me. You bring out different aspects of me that I need.”

  Ewan used the excess lotion that coated his hard-on to slick up Noel’s erection. The men grunted and thrust their cocks against each other, each gripping the other’s member. Ewan used Noel’s favorite corkscrewing motion, pumping his tight fist up and down the length of his lover’s penis. Now he switched to an open-handed massage. The goal was to rub their dicks against each other, building up the sensual friction until one man couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “You won’t want me anymore when you realize Autumn fulfills everything for you.”

  “She doesn’t. Autumn doesn’t have a cock.”

  “So you only like me for my cock? You don’t need another man’s cock. You’re straighter than a fast trip to the outhouse. You just love me because I’m a cowboy.” Ewan knew that now he was just playing devil’s advocate, taunting Noel. The more he teased, the more Noel would deny everything, and the better Ewan would feel.

  Ewan was right. He felt Noel smile as he nibbled on his earlobe. “You fucking savage buck. You’re manipulating me to tell you how much I love and need you.”

  “I’m manipulating you to ejaculate all over my chest.”

  The men grinned, but their lust soon got the better of them. They were in the grip of the old “Ivy League Rub,” so called maybe because rich upper-crust boys fell prey to it on cold winter nights in the belief it didn’t make them gay. Noel rubbed Ewan’s slick cock so industriously Ewan was soon on the verge of losing the game, when a sudden loud clanging stopped the men cold.

  They looked at each other. Noel had locked the door that led to the party, but this clanging was the chain on the rolling industrial door that led to the back alley. It was more than a sudden gust of wind that had blown that chain against the door, and the men tensed. Nobody wanted a picture of their dick on TMZ.

  The silhouette of a woman came toward them. Instinctively, Ewan moved away from the edge of the counter to cover Noel’s body with his, but both their hard-ons stuck out at right angles to their bodies. They exhaled with relief when Autumn stepped into the light, wearing the same light, flowered dress she’d had on at the game.

  “Counselor,” breathed Ewan. “How long have you been there?”

  Autumn sighed wistfully. “Long enough to watch the two of you doing it Oxford style.” She licked her lips and wiggled her eyebrows, depositing her purse on the counter. “Carry on, men. I’m betting Ewan is the first to shoot his load, from the color and shine of his organ.”

  * * * *

  Autumn knew if she accused Ewan of being the first to come, the men would fight to make it last longer. They were just typical men when it came to one-upmanship, which was why they adored mutual masturbation. They could tantalize, tease, and torture each other’s cocks and balls to see how long they could hold out. It was a sexy cock and ball torture, and Autumn had been hiding in the shadows, knowing they were about at the apex of endurance.

  She wanted to cash in on it.

  She knew if she taunted them, they’d react like men by grabbing her and proving their virility. She was right. Both men growled, dropped each other’s cocks, and reached for her. She was in the mood to let Ewan win the prize—it had been a week since his long, fat cock had been inside her, and Noel had done a good job of arousing him till he looked like a virile satyr, his prick elongated and stiffened like another limb.

  Autumn was primed and wet, feeling flirty and feminine in her daisy motif dress. She couldn’t believe she’d stumbled upon a dress this pretty with red daisies, just like Noel’s current hit song playing on the radio. The Friday Experience had had to record the CD in Dublin because Noel’s Hardscrabble Studio wasn’t finished being built at the time last summer. It had been a nice excuse for the three of them to take a sojourn there, see Noel’s old birthplace and the mates he was still in touch with. Autumn also met mates he’d known as lead singer of the Friday Experience and local estate dweller. As a frugal lawyer, she wanted to advise him to sell the expensive estate, but it was part of who he was. She had to admit it was sort of fun having an entire wing to themselves, too, in addition to things like topiary, mazes, and an honest to god conservatory with tropical plants from Madagascar pushing up against the glass ceiling.

  Without ceremony, Autumn flipped the skirt of her dress up to display her ass, turning to face the wall and leaning against the counter. She had taken to wearing barely-there thong panties, as her men were notorious horn dogs. “I’m ready, my well-hung gaucho. Watching the two of you jack each other off was enough to get me ready.”

  “What about me?” whined Noel as Ewan expertly positioned his bulging cockhead between her pussy lips and rubbed it around her clit.

  “Yeah,” Ewan said affably. “You’ll feel bad, Autumn, when you see what Noel has planned—” Smack. “Hey! What’s the fucking idea?”

  Autumn giggled, because Noel had clearly smacked Ewan on the ass with something. The warehouse was certainly full of enough implements that he could’ve used, so she craned her head to look past Ewan. Noel stood behind Ewan, his cock panting like a thirsty dog as it hung from his baseball pants, clutching a flapper. This was an ingenious combination of flogger and crop with four leather falls, and right now Noel was thrashing Ewan’s sweet ass, making thwacking sounds.

  Every time he struck Ewan, Ewan flinched and hissed in air. Maybe he wasn’t pleased with the way Autumn’s attention was fixed on Noel. He growled. “Give me that fucking thing!” and whipped the flapper out of Noel’s hand. Now he spanked Autumn with it, hitting her not nearly as hard as Noel had whacked him. It was her turn to gasp and jump every time the tantalizing flapper stung her ass, and her fingers dug into the edge of the counter.

  “Oh! God, Ewan! Do me, you asshole! Do me!”

  “That’s right,” Noel agreed levelly. “Sink that delicious cock into her hot box.”

  Autumn chuckled at Noel’s Irish slang. Ewan obliged, skewering her on his giant pole and sighing with contentment. He’d lose the orgasm race in a flash like this, so Autumn urged Noel, “Fuck him, Noel. You know you want to mount his muscular ass.”

  “The idea occurred to me.”

  Autumn loved looking around her shoulder while the two men went hard at it. It aroused her, opened her up wider to accept the big cock pumping her pussy. Noel drizzled more lubricant on his erection and bent at the knees to get the best angle on Ewan’s ass. Autumn loved watching Ewan’s facial expression change from bliss to apprehension, then back to ecstasy with a few cringes of fear thrown in. It was good to keep the men on their toes, and being the filling in the sandwich helped amuse the man who was left out in the cold while Autumn got righteously fucked. It was a win-win, all around.

  Now Ewan’s eyelids fluttered and his eyeballs seemed about to roll into his head. His spanking of Autumn’s butt lost steam, so she rattled his hand that held the flapper. “Shake it!” she commanded, spreading her high heels farther apart on the floor. She adored being spanked—the exciting sting that spread over her thighs and aroused her pussy.

&n
bsp; Ewan came to, maybe not wanting to lose the race, and concentrated on his whacking. Autumn straightened out her spine, imitating the Cobra yoga posture, and talked sultry, dirty talk to Ewan. “You love that, don’t you? Getting fucked up the ass while you’re deep inside my pussy? Noel’s cock rubs right against your sweet spot. He’s going to make you come first, Ewan. Go ahead, do it. Shoot your load. I want to feel you explode inside me. Let Noel bring you to climax. He’s so, so hot and so, so good.”

  “Not going to do it,” Ewan grunted, speeding up his spanking. “Not going to let that bastard have his satisfaction.”

  “Oh, yeah?” snarled Noel, pumping his hips into his lover. “You can’t take it when my dick rubs against that spot. It drives you wild. I love fucking you when you’re coming, when your asshole clenches around my prick and—Ah!”

  “Oh!” cried Autumn when she felt Noel’s body tense and stiffen. He jerked his hips as he came inside Ewan. Autumn bit her lower lip as she watched his beautiful face contort in the throes of orgasm. She loved watching his orgasm flood through Ewan, setting off a chain reaction. Now Ewan came, beautifully, holding his cock so deeply inside of her he splashed jism against her cervix. Both men concentrated intently, their senses turning inward, and Autumn used her Kegel muscles to milk the savory seed from Ewan’s cock.

  She didn’t always need to orgasm. Clit torture was a good method for keeping her pussy toned, too. She loved being able to give her men more bliss. If she could do that by milking their cocks with her powerful cunt muscles, so much the better. All of Ewan’s potent lust and desire flooded her pelvis and she relished every second, every inch of him.

  Noel was the first to disengage, panting, uttering exclamations of surprise. He wandered off. Autumn petted Ewan’s throat as he covered her from behind with his torso. No one had had a chance to undress. Sometimes a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” was the best sort of fuck.

  “Autumn,” gasped Ewan at last. “You love me, don’t you?”

  Autumn went still. What sort of doubt had been eating at Ewan? She squeezed his cock with her cunt, giggling when he jumped. “Of course, sweetie. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh,” he sighed. “Just wanted to make sure. You want to grow old with me, right?”

  Now it was time to disengage. When Autumn spun about to face Ewan, she loved the warm gusher of seed that trickled down her inner thigh. She took his painfully handsome face between her palms, kissing his soft mouth over and over. “Of course, my gaucho. I want to be there with both you and Noel when you have a hearing aid and I’m on hormone replacement therapy. What’s gotten into you?”

  “It’s a surprise,” was all Ewan would mumble.

  By that time Noel had returned, freshly washed up. He stood next to the couple, looking a little sheepish for some reason. Noel was so full of himself he rarely looked unsure, but he certainly did now. What was going on with the men? They were acting so strangely.

  “Autumn,” Noel started on a wavering tone. His voice soon gained confidence as he barged ahead, taking Autumn’s limp hand in his. “Sometimes I feel embarrassed at making so much money just singing songs. A singer has an emptiness in his heart bigger than his ego. Why else would I need fifty thousand people yelling my name to feel good about myself? But with you and Ewan, I’m finding I don’t need that as much. Wasting inspiration is a crime for a musician, and you are my muse, my inspiration, my life.”

  Oh, dear. What’s he leading up to? Autumn had long been craving that Noel would pop the question—again—to her, but now that it was happening her palms were sweating with nerves. He did have a ring box in his other hand and he now raised it up. He allowed her to open it up, and she saw it was the cubic zirconia, gold-plated ring they had stuck in the time capsule all those years ago. “I was going to give you back this ring when I asked you to marry me again. But then I realized you’re superstitious and you might think it had bad juju.”

  Now Ewan chuckled too, and it struck her what he had been nervous about. She gasped when Noel flung himself to his knees. He rooted around under his baseball shirt for a pendant on a chain she now noticed he was wearing. Now tears of joy clouded her eyes, so she dropped to her knees, too. Noel unlatched the chain to reveal a much more brilliant gem of a ring, which he hovered near her ring finger. It looked like a big chocolate diamond surrounded by more smaller chocolate and white diamonds.

  Noel said, “I know I can do anything. As a kid I watched as the Berlin wall fell on TV, the first thing I saw when I came to America. I thought that anything would be possible in America. Then I met you, and then I lost you, my muse that inspired me to write some of the world’s worst poetry—”

  Both Autumn and Ewan had to laugh at this, but Noel soldiered on.

  “You can help me make it true again, Autumn. You can give me that inspiration back by marrying me. My precious pet, my love, dear Autumn. Will you marry me?”

  Autumn’s eyes were so blurry by that time, when she squeezed them shut the tears that had welled rolled down her face. “Of course, cher Maître,” she sobbed as he slid the ring onto her finger.

  She couldn’t see the ring anyway, so she flung her arms around Noel’s neck and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. She remembered Ewan’s insecurity, and she blubbered, “And Ewan too.” She had to grope around blindly to find the other man’s shirtfront, and she held onto him for dear life. “Ewan too. We can marry him symbolically. Here, Ewan.” She laughed as she took the crappy ring from the box. It would only fit on Ewan’s pinkie finger, but he seemed satisfied with it. He was already collared by Noel, and Noel was already tattooed by Ewan. Now the three of them were all symbolically welded together.

  Autumn tried to kiss her men, but she was blubbering too heavily. So she lightened the mood. “All right. Who won the race?”

  Ewan nibbled her earlobe. “Noel lost by coming first. If you mean the race for your heart, then you have to tell us.”

  Noel took Ewan’s chin between his fingers and forced him to look him in the eye. “Hey. That was a win, not a loss.”

  Autumn watched the men kiss with bleary eyes. “No. I’m the big winner. I’ve got both of you, through all the hearing aids and knee replacements and fiber cereals.”

  She looked at her ring, knowing it was a dazzling symbol for their love that had endured all these years, and would for many decades to come.

  THE END

  WWW.KARENMERCURYAUTHOR.BLOGSPOT.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Karen’s first three novels were historical fiction involving pre-colonial African explorers. Since she was always either accused or praised—depending on how you look at it—for writing overly steamy sex scenes, erotic romance was the natural next step. She lives near Napa, California where she shoots archery, collects minerals, plays with her not-so-little Newfoundland pup, and does other “guy” things.

  For all titles by Karen Mercury, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/karen-mercury

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com