by Brit M.
His fingertip penetrated her, slow and gentle.
“You let me know if I'm going too fast,” Adrian whispered hotly. “This turns me on so much I'm afraid I'll come before I even get my cock in you.”
“Aah,” she managed as his lube-slicked finger slid deeper, inexorably deeper, until the press of his hand against her was a comforting weight.
She also felt Paul rising to the challenge of another round beneath her, his cock pressing against her cunt as he grew erect.
“Condom,” Paul said.
Adrian passed one over her shoulder and the way his finger shifted inside her made her gasp and clench hard. He groaned at the feeling. Paul leaned back, slipped the rubber over himself and guided her down again, so the head of him pressed against her pussy and then slid inside. He filled her in one long glide and held her still on his lap, stretched around his dick while Adrian probed inside her with a second finger. She felt the press of them together, and it had her shaking, the previously abandoned orgasm rushing up again. She rocked, whimpering, her clit grinding against the base of Paul's cock and his thickness inside her stroking everything he'd primed with his fingers.
Adrian fit a third finger in a moment later, and that burned, though he used more lubricant. Her muscles protested, tightening again around them both, and this time Paul cursed and bucked his hips up, grinding hard into her though he was as far in as he could get. She shuddered.
“Paul, pull out,” Adrian said, a thready whisper.
She whimpered as he did, lifting her again. She writhed to keep him inside, but he slipped out, leaving her feeling open and hungry to be fucked. Adrian slid his fingers out. She heard the tearing of a wrapper and then his latex-covered cock nudged at her. She bent forward into Paul's embrace and let out a long sigh as Adrian pushed into her from behind. It burned but not in a way that truly hurt, and even that ache dissolved quickly as he worked in with tiny pushes.
He was being so careful not to hurt her, she knew, especially with his breath racing and his body shaking above her.
“You like—” she gasped, trying to give as good as she got. “Putting your cock in my ass?”
“Fu—ck,” he groaned, hips meeting hers as he bottomed out. “Your virgin ass, sweetheart, can't forget.”
He began to move, and he was right—it did feel good. He kept her back arched, his cock going into her at an angle that sent small rushes of pleasure all through her body. He hugged her to him, mouthing at her neck, constant gasps coming from his mouth. Paul's stare was hot on her face and she met it, knowing and sharing the knowledge that Adrian was losing his control, that she'd made him so aroused that his normally iron will was shattering.
“Coming,” he whimpered.
She clenched down hard, the way she had on his fingers, and he actually yelped and slammed his hips against her. She screamed in return, because that was a jumble of pain and pleasure that made her very aware of how careful he'd been. She felt his dick pulsing hard against the muscled ring of her hole as he orgasmed.
“Oh,” she moaned, drawing the sound out.
He pulled her back against him, staying inside, and Paul moved up in front. His fingers stroked his own cock, squeezing a little at the head, and he bent to lick her once more. It took three strong swipes of his tongue over her pussy, long wet licks that encompassed her from clit to nearly where Adrian's softening cock was still buried in her, and she was shaking through an explosive peak, voice broken on cries of pleasure. The fullness of Adrian still stretching her insides, owning her virgin ass as he'd so fondly murmured, while she tightened and shivered only drove her higher.
Paul's orgasm was no less spectacular for receiving it from his own hand. He rested his head against her thigh and grunted as he came, filling the condom, his hand moving fast over himself. Adrian shifted and pulled gently free of her a moment later.
“Oh,” she groaned, laying herself out on the soft carpet.
Her lower back and her ass had begun to ache, but she was so sated and pleased it was hard to care. Paul carded a hand through her hair and smirked. She rolled her eyes and smiled back at Adrian, who looked both smug and wrecked, more debauched than them both. He really did like being the first, which was such an odd kink, she thought.
But he'd been gentle and made her come, so it was okay. They both got something good out of it.
“Breakfast,” he said a moment later, tossing blonde hair out of his eyes. “Though nothing is going to top that, am I right?”
“Oh, darling,” she drawled, adopting his brief pet name. “You're both absolutely fantastic.”
“Good to hear,” Paul replied.
* * * *
At the hotel table, cleaned up and damp-haired from a quick shower, Marissa found herself at a table with two handsome, sweet and thoroughly debauched men who both had looks on their faces that seemed to announce what they just did upstairs in their room. She wonders if her own expression was as lecherous, suggestive and open—she doubted it, but wondered. Her body certainly felt sensual and lovely in a way she'd never known it to feel, projecting an air of uncaring satisfaction.
The waiter's eyes lingered on the three of them, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, as they scooted chairs to be close around the small square table. They formed a triangle, Paul in the middle and Adrian and Marissa sitting across from each other.
And, to her joy, she didn't feel the burn of shame she'd imagined when the waiter walked away, still pondering their arrangement. He wouldn't ask; it would be unprofessional, but he was thinking it. They were all covered in love bites and visible bruising shaped like hands, teeth. She instead felt—full, somehow, of life and happiness. She was a part of this for the weekend, this sweet relationship full of trust and open-minded desire.
Jeff would have judged her for wanting these things, for having enjoyed anal sex, for having given her body over to be used by two caring and well-practiced, well-trained tops. This was what she liked, she was sure now. She was more centered, content, and happy than she'd been for years and it was thanks to this sexual awakening, thanks to giving her control up for a little while.
“You look happy,” Paul said.
“I am,” she said, smiling. “This is perfect. I'm so glad.”
“You're a perfect match for us, too,” Adrian said. “Don't think you're not, because you blow my mind, sweetheart.”
“Me, too,” Paul said.
His fingers crept across the table to grasp hers, holding her hand. He smiled in return. Her breath caught, her heart throbbed, and she felt something else: a rush of emotion, sweeter than honey, the first brush of something stronger than desire. Her jaw clenched and she swallowed suddenly, dropping her eyes. Oh, that was not all right. She fought down the feeling and was glad that their food arrived a moment later, distracting the men from her awkward moment.
It was bound to happen, she thought.
After all, she was expecting two horny guys who wanted to bang her brains out and move on. She had been prepared for that. She hadn't been ready for Paul and Adrian, who were so real, human, and down to earth that they had begun to creep into her heart. That, and she'd never done a friends-with-benefits thing: maybe she wasn't cut out for it. Maybe sex made her feel strongly, too, not like Lita and her string of boyfriends.
She thought she could deal with the heartache of leaving when the weekend was through—because the experience so far had been so fantastic, it was worth wringing every minute of pleasure and happiness out of it, and not giving up early.
Marissa had the very clear epiphany that she was already falling for them. Pulling away now wouldn't stop it. So why not enjoy?
In the meantime, she'd been picking over her strawberry pancakes, and Paul's fork crept over to steal a bite. She swatted at him halfheartedly and he grinned, popping the bite of her breakfast into his mouth.
“Eat up,” he said. “You need strength for later.”
Her face heated and his smile softened along with the blush. He obviousl
y thought it was cute, and if he did, she could, too.
“What are we doing today?” she asked. “I assume we can't spend the whole time upstairs. I'm kind of sore right now.”
“I thought maybe we could go mall-trawling and just hang out for a bit,” Adrian said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
Paul raised his eyebrows and something unspoken passed between them, but she ignored it to say, “Okay, sounds nice.”
The pancakes disappeared slowly, aided by the bites Paul kept sneaking off of her plate. She didn't mind. The companionable quiet around the table soothed the building strangeness of the previous conversation—which made her wonder, why was Paul giving Adrian such an odd look about going to a mall to pass the time? Did Paul expect they'd spend the weekend with sex and not do anything else, but Adrian wanted to bond? She wished she knew. Their unspoken communication put her off balance.
A small part of her was afraid she wasn't the only one who was starting to feel something more than lust. What if their relationship wasn't stable enough for this after all? What if she was the one to come between them, entirely by accident?
“Are you both—I don't know, are you all right?” she asked as she nudged her empty plate away from her. Her hands fiddled with the orange juice glass. “Something seems odd.”
“It's fine,” Paul said.
“Okay, I believe you,” she said. “But before we go, I'm going to run to the girls’ room. Be right back.”
Marissa stood and tucked her chair under, retreating to the restrooms in the back of the hotel restaurant. A glance over her shoulder as she opened the door revealed Paul and Adrian sitting with their heads bent together, blond hair nearly touching dark, an obviously intense conversation under way. She swallowed hard and walked through the doorway, glad for the empty bathroom. She leaned against the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, relieved for the moment alone.
They were talking about her, she was sure. What could they not say when she was there? Were they worrying about how she was feeling, or were they fighting amongst themselves? The thought of unbalancing their sweet, functional relationship made her feel sick. They'd been so certain they'd be able to do this and have it mean nothing, and now she was contending with the ache of growing feelings in her chest, and they were heatedly talking about something related to her. Adrian seemed especially attached already, though Paul was more aloof with them both.
She stared into her reflection, cataloguing the marks on her neck in the scoop T-shirt. If they both felt strongly about her, if they were both getting attached—
Marissa shook herself to kill the traitorous thought. She had no place with them after this weekend and she'd never heard of an actual relationship with three people. They had history, years of companionship, and she was a weekend fling. There was no way it would work, and thinking it was just wishful. She splashed water on her face, dried it with a paper towel, and went back out to the restaurant.
They had finished talking and were sitting comfortably again, chatting without a hint of the intensity of before. Marissa took her seat and looked at them both. She wished she could read minds. Paul was smiling with the faintest quirk of his lips, Adrian had his usual smirk. It was as if they thought she wouldn't notice their stiffness, the way they held themselves a bit differently. All the same, she didn't want to ask and turn the morning awkward.
“Shall we?” she asked.
“I got the check already,” Paul said.
“Would you like to drive?” Adrian offered. “Or I can. Either way.”
“My car's kind of small,” she said.
“Ours it is,” he said and pushed his chair back to stand.
Marissa looked up at him, the sunlight from the windows lighting up the nearly white highlights in his gold-blond hair. He had the silhouette of an angel, but the expression on his face as he met her gaze and offered her a hand up was anything but angelic. His eyes seemed to be full of mischief, knowledge of contours and spaces of her body that even she had barely thought about.
She took his hand and stood, fingers interlacing, and Paul put an arm around her waist. Managing to walk out of the restaurant pressed together was harder than she'd imagined it would be, the tables not quite far enough apart for three people abreast, and the weight of other people's attention burned on her back. Still, she held her head high and enjoyed the warmth of a hand in hers and an arm crossing the small of her back, Paul and Adrian both bracketing her. She'd wondered since the seating arrangement at breakfast had differed if they'd keep putting her in the middle, but it seemed they hadn't tired of touching her yet and were eager to do as much of it as they could before the weekend was over.
“Time's already passing too quickly,” Paul said, almost under his breath. “It's almost eleven. By the time we go out, shop, and have lunch it'll be nearly five. Checkout tomorrow is at noon.”
Marissa swallowed a protestation and said instead, “Well, we've got time. Let's make the most of it.”
“You don't have a boyfriend, or anybody in mind, right?” Adrian asked.
“I already told you guys,” she said with a sigh. “Nobody, no-how.”
“Just us,” he muttered, and that time the look Paul shot him was somewhere between curious and wounded.
“Come on,” she said, her attempt at light-heartedness falling a bit flat. “I thought I was the only angst-riddled, self-conscious mess. If we're all moping we won't have a good time.”
“True,” Paul said.
He attempted a manful smile and Adrian squeezed her hand. Letting go of them to slip into the back seat of the car was almost physically painful, reminded as she was of their limited time together. She sat in the middle seat and reached up to play her fingers through the blond waves of Adrian's hair where he sat in the passenger seat—best not to distract the driver.
“Mmm,” he hummed as she scratched his scalp with the tips of her nails. He shifted in his seat like a satisfied cat. “That's nice.”
“So, how's your job been going?” Paul asked as he drove, distracting her briefly from wringing more of those contented purrs from Adrian.
“I think it's been going well. I've had—I don't know, it makes me feel weird to say this, but I've had more confidence since I started talking to you two,” she murmured.
“You're embracing who you are, and who you want to be,” Adrian said with a husky edge to his voice. “We're just helping. You think it's us making you more confident, but it's just you, growing into your skin.”
“So, when you found out you were into—BDSM, and all that, you started to feel more secure?” she asked.
“Very much so,” Adrian said.
“Accepting that I liked men and women both unlocked so much for me,” Paul added. “My art was better, my life was better, and then I met Adrian. You know, he's the first guy I ever dated, and I was his first monogamous relationship for years. It was all pretty new.”
“I didn't know,” she said.
Adrian turned his head so her fingers ran across his cheek and he cast a glance back at her. It made her feel childish, that these men were barely older than her and so much more aware of themselves. Everyone had to start somewhere, though, and she knew she'd found her inner truth here, with them. This was the kind of woman she was: free, sensual, and still the same Marissa but with a huge weight lifted. Sex with strangers, a weekend of debauchery, hadn't changed who she was. It had just helped her acknowledge it.
And they hardly seemed like strangers now.
“The auditor for my class made me so nervous I could never talk in front of him,” she admitted. Her face heated under Adrian's knowing stare. “But when I thought about your mark on me, and what I was going to do, and who I was going to be, I felt better. I felt stronger.”
“That's what it's all about,” Adrian said.
“Once you're done with us, do you think you'll keep looking?” Paul asked.
That question had an edge she couldn't interpret. The thought of running out for a
nother date on Monday made her feel sick with heartbreak, and she shook her head emphatically, then realized he probably couldn't see, though Adrian could and was cataloguing her reactions.
“Just because I know what I want doesn't mean I can have it,” she said.
Adrian made another humming noise, this one displeased, but he didn't elaborate. Paul's shoulders were a bit tighter than before, she thought. Her mouth flattened into a line once Adrian turned away. That—that was a bit too honest, a bit too much emotion leaking into her answer. There was no way they didn't catch on to her tone.
She knew what she wanted: them. It was a shame they weren't really an option.
Adrian twisted in his seat and rubbed her knee soothingly, though he didn't look back, and she relaxed into her seat. The silence wasn't as perfectly comfortable as it had been the night before, but her head was filled with wonderings and worries and she couldn't see the men's faces, couldn't guess what they were thinking.
“I could—” Adrian said quietly, then stopped.
“You could?” she prompted.
“Never mind,” he said. “I need to think about it before I say something, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, curious now. She caught Paul glancing at him, too.
The mall appeared on the horizon and she leaned up between their seats, the belt pressing hard into her lower stomach. Adrian stretched and sat up straighter. She heard his back pop. Paul found them a space and parked.
“I haven't gone on a mall date since I was in high school,” she said.
“We like to go,” Paul said. He smiled at her, though his expression seemed preoccupied. “It's nice to walk around and people-watch, if you're comfortable with being watched right back.”
She nodded. “I'm ready. I'm okay with that—with people seeing us. Are you, though? What if someone you know sees us? What will they think?”
