by Jayne Rylon
Cortez makes the initial move, drawing Rogan to him. He inhales sharply when their bare chests press together. With his mouth open, Rogan makes an easy target for Cortez’s lips and tongue. He raids Rogan’s mouth.
I cup my balls and roll them in my palm as I think about how fucking great it feels when he kisses me like that. Taking what he wants. Rogan goes slack in his hold.
It’s no longer right to act like we’re indulging in some sort of experimentation. This means something to them. I can see it in their eyes and the tenderness with which they touch each other.
This time is different. It’s not just Cortez fucking me and me fucking Rogan anymore. This is going to last because they’re into each other, too. We’re equals in this relationship, no matter what roles we play in the bedroom.
When they have to come up for breath, Cortez is in full bossy mode. “You’re such a good kisser. I’m ready to have that mouth working my cock. What do you say, Kaden? Should he suck us both at once?”
“Fuck yes.” I hop off the bed and stand next to it, at a right angle to Cortez’s torso.
Rogan sinks to the ground between us. He puts one hand on my thigh and the other on Cortez’s good one, bracing himself as he glances back and forth between our cocks, which are at the perfect level for him to devour.
“You want to taste Cortez?” I ask, my arm wrapping around Cortez’s waist and his doing the same to me. Rogan nods. “Do it. Make it good too. So he knows I was telling the truth about how fucking fantastic that mouth of yours is.”
I monitor his response as we venture into uncharted territory. I shouldn’t have worried. He wraps his fingers around the base of my shaft, staying connected, then swallows Cortez in one long slurp. Impressive.
Even I couldn’t manage that without gagging.
“Shit!” Cortez shouts, then turns his attention on me. He rests the fingers of his free hand around my throat. With him holding me there, and Rogan clasping my dick, I’m already unbearably aroused. It only gets worse when he leans in and kisses me.
We make out while Rogan bobs between his legs for a while before switching his lips to my shaft and his pumping fist to Cortez’s hard-on. He knows exactly how much we can take before he needs to torture the other.
He may be the one kneeling, but he’s got more control than he realizes.
We’re slaves to his attention.
He elevates our pleasure to the next level when he tucks our cocks together. They rub against each other, making us both moan. Even louder when Rogan takes us both into his mouth at once. He can’t swallow as much of us together as he did individually, but he sure gives it one hell of a try.
Just the thought of being wrapped together with Cortez’s cock in Rogan’s mouth is enough to have precome leaking from me.
“Enough,” Cortez growls. Thank God. “It’s time to reward Rogan for what a good job he did,” he tells me.
“I will. I’m going to fuck him.” I help Rogan stand then guide him to the bed. “And I think you should let him keep blowing you while I do. He loves having a dick in his mouth. He’ll enjoy my cock in his ass twice as much if you’ll feed him yours.”
“If you insist.” Cortez shoots me a wicked smile.
“I do.”
Rogan moans. “Hurry.”
Cortez doesn’t let me go that easily, though. He bites my jaw then growls, “And when you’re done with him, I’m going to fill you up, too. We may be playing nice right now, tag-teaming your boy, but that ass is mine. Don’t forget it.”
He smacks it, hard, so I can’t.
The sting of his palm lingers as I put Rogan where I want him. I stand while he lies on the bed on his back. A lot like yesterday. Except this time Cortez leaps onto the mattress, with only a slight wince, then sits on his heels by Rogan’s shoulder. He draws my boyfriend’s head into his lap and strokes his hair and cheeks affectionately.
The gentle exchange riles me up even more and before I know it, I’m slathered in lube and drilling into Rogan. When he opens his mouth to groan, Cortez is there, slotting his cock between Rogan’s lips.
Cortez and I push each other higher and higher. We begin thrusting into Rogan in sync, filling him from both ends. It’s like we’re drawn to each other. Pretty soon we’re both leaning in so we can make out above Rogan as we use him to bring ourselves pleasure. He doesn’t seem to mind. His cock is rock hard and leaking where it bounces against his belly.
I can’t wait until it’s my turn to be as blissed out as he is right now. He’s soaking in every touch. He’s also working over Cortez’s cock. The man is nearly superhuman, but he’s still got his limits.
“Time for your ass to join in the party,” he says to me. Then he reaches over to our nightstand and tosses me a condom.
I realize what he wants. I cover myself so I can put my cock in Rogan’s warm, wet mouth despite having just been plowing his ass. I’m glad Cortez is looking out for us both. It’s been so long since I could have blind faith in a partner to have my best interests at heart. It’s a feeling I’ve missed and craved.
And here it is again.
Here he is.
“Hurry up. Put it on.”
I do as I’m told then crawl over Rogan. He’s flipped around so his head hangs off the edge of the bed. He doesn’t waste any time before he’s sucking me down. So I return the favor.
Rogan is beneath me. We’re linked in a never-ending circle—my mouth to his cock and his on mine. We suck, sixty-nining. It’s one of our favorite ways to get each other off. Except I’ve never been ridden while doing it before.
There’s a first time for everything. I sincerely hope it isn’t the last.
I swallow Rogan to the root just before Cortez inches closer. While I’m holding all of Rogan’s cock in my mouth, Cortez begins to prod at my hole. He stretches me, causing some zings of erotic pain before he breaches my ass. Sinking a few inches deeper with each stroke, he begins to fuck me.
When I’m sure I’m going to lose control and fill the condom I’m wearing, which is not at all what I want, Cortez abruptly pulls out of me, leaving me empty and open. I lift off Rogan’s dick with a wet noise and look over my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing. Except…” He pauses.
“What?”
“I want to fuck Rogan, too.” He groans. “Can I?”
Rogan is nudging my shoulder, encouraging me to flip to my back. So I give him what he’s asking for.
“Absolutely. Please do,” I say.
We roll and Cortez switches sides of the bed. In seconds, he’s exploring Rogan’s ass for the first time. He curses and praises Rogan as he plunges inside. A lot larger than me, fatter and longer, I’m sure it’s a lot for Rogan to get used to.
He doesn’t flinch.
Instead he blows me twice as well, showing me with every flick of his tongue, rub of his fingers on my balls, and the increasing suction he applies to my tip that he’s a very content man.
Cortez keeps going, rotating us so that he spreads the fucking out evenly. I told you he has incredible stamina. Soon I’m barely hanging on, even when it’s Rogan he’s plowing.
Rogan is shuddering and moaning out of control. Only then does Cortez lead us closer to the greatest pleasure imaginable. He spanks me and orders me to stretch out beside Rogan.
I strip off my condom then capture Rogan’s hand and bring it to my cock. I do the same for him. We jerk each other off as Cortez looms above us. His hand flies over his own shaft in a blur. He stares at us as he tips over the edge.
The sounds he makes when come shoots from his cock is nearly enough to have me joining him. He showers Rogan and me with spurt after spurt of his seed, making sure we split it evenly. Rogan runs his thumb through a line that cuts across his nipple then brings it to his mouth, savoring Cortez’s taste. I roll to my side and kiss him so I can share in the flavor.
Cortez is taking huge heaving breaths as he continues to rub his cock and tease his own n
ipple. He keeps himself engaged because he’s not quite done yet.
“Rogan seemed to like that a lot. Why don’t you give him some more?”
“Damn straight I will.” I roll to my knees, planting one on either side of Rogan’s hips before jacking myself off. Cortez tips me into orgasm when he slips his thick middle finger into my ass and uses it to massage my prostate while I spill my load all over Rogan’s face. He opens his mouth to catch as much as he can and licks more from his lips when I’m finished.
Spent, Cortez and I crash to the bed on either side of Rogan. We cradle him between us. Now that we’re more clear-headed, we can focus on him and his pleasure.
I kiss him sweetly as I trace light circles around his nipple. In my peripheral vision I see Cortez pinching his other one before trailing his rough fingers over Rogan’s smooth, hairless torso. We can’t torture him much more. His cock is already bulging and rouged from staying hard this long.
It’s time to grant him release so he can float along with us.
Cortez looks to me and I relay my game plan. “I’m going to jerk him off. You use your magic fingers on him. He loves being stretched wide when he comes. We’re going to get him off together.”
Rogan groans and shivers between us.
Exactly, love. Exactly.
I kiss his forehead as I wrap my hand around his shaft and begin to stroke, making sure to caress every bit of him from the root to his tip. Meanwhile, Cortez detours to test the weight of Rogan’s balls and brush the pad of his thumb over the sac that holds them.
I bet that feels fucking great.
Not as amazing as when Cortez uses the come splattered across Rogan’s abdomen to coat his fingers. He walks them down Rogan’s pelvis to the apex of his thighs before tucking them under his balls. I can tell he’s pushed them inside Rogan’s gaping hole when our boy bows up and calls our names.
Rogan thrusts into my fist. I increase the pressure of my grip and match the pace Cortez is setting with his hand, which drills into Rogan, massaging him from the inside.
In tandem, we bring him pleasure.
He’s gorgeous, straining to meet our touches, giving himself over to the rapture we induce. His eyes fly open and he stares directly at us when he surrenders.
His orgasm surpasses ours, drenching him.
Only when he’s finished coming does Cortez knock my hand out of the way then lower his mouth over Rogan’s cock. He cleans Rogan off, despite the sensitivity of his still-engorged penis. He’s diabolical like that.
Rogan seems to love it as much as I do.
Almost as much as I love these guys.
Cortez shoves me to my back on the bed again then takes his time cleaning both of us, and himself. He cares for all three of us before climbing into bed. This time he’s not leaving.
I’m nestled between Cortez and Rogan, snuggled tight to Cortez’s chest while Rogan curls up behind me. I could stay here for the rest of my life.
The only way I can do that is if I convince Cortez and Rogan that this is how it should be.
The three of us against the world.
And I think I might know a way to do that.
“I have something I want to show you. Wait here.” Before they can pin me down, I sprint into my studio and touch my finger to the canvas I finished earlier. Not too wet. I carefully lift it off the easel and carry it into our bedroom.
Ours—as in Cortez’s, Rogan’s, and mine.
We’re a unit now. I’m certain of it.
When I have their full attention, I turn the canvas around. I truly believe this painting will be regarded as my magnum opus. If not by the world, then certainly by the two people whose opinions I give a shit about.
It’s a depiction of us, embracing. More importantly to me, it represents our relationship. Cortez is on the left, one hand wrapped around the back of my neck and the other resting on my waist. I’m pulling him toward me. Our lips are about to touch. Behind me stands Rogan, kissing that spot between my shoulder blades he loves so much. His head is slightly bowed and his eyes are closed. He’s wearing a serene expression of surrender.
I’m trapped in the middle and loving every second of it. For once not torn between the two halves of myself but embracing them both instead.
It’s titled, “Meant To Be.”
“That’s incredible.” Rogan sinks to his knees to admire it up close. Cortez stands behind him with his hands on Rogan’s shoulders.
“It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Cortez agrees, his voice husky.
“I want to hang it in the other room. Beside the painting of Rogan and me. Then I’ll add the drawing of Cortez and me on the far side. Above the three of them, I’m saving a spot for another painting, one that’s not as clear in my mind yet, but will be. One of the two of you.” I’m not sure where that plan came from, but it must have been brewing in the back of my mind. “All four of those relationships are precious to me. I want to love you guys in every way possible. Honor the bonds between us in every variation.”
“Same here,” Cortez says.
“Me three,” Rogan adds. Then he looks up at Cortez and asks, “I only have one more question. Did you actually bring Chinese food when you came back? If you really loved us, you would have.”
My stomach rumbles in response.
He shakes his head. “Sorry, no. And for the record, I never really left. But I still remember the number for delivery.”
Maybe we’ll get lucky and—for the third time—find the same fortune Rogan and I each cracked open, the one that inspired my painting’s title. It seems impossible, but I can tell you from personal experience that sometimes people beat the odds.
Look at the three of us. So different—brains, brawn, and creativity—each with our own priorities and goals. Despite everything we’ve faced, and the countless things that could have destroyed us, we’re finally where we were always meant to be.
It’s not a physical place, but a state of mind.
Open to a lifetime together.
37
Kaden
One Year Later
The buzz of three tattoo guns running simultaneously sounds like a swarm of bees. Kind of feels like it, too, as one of my artist friends attacks my thigh. Oh well, I’ve learned that sometimes it takes a lot of pain to end up with the best things in life.
“How you doing over there, Cortez?” I grin when he grimaces.
“You must be crazy to have so much ink. This is not fun.”
“To each their own. I happen to like pain more than you do.” I wink at him. “I’ll show you later.”
Rogan chuckles from where he’s laid out, getting a coordinating design to mine and Cortez’s tattoos. His hand is stretched out, wrapped around Cortez’s ankle either for moral support or because the connection bolsters his own sense of security. It’s funny to think that he has more experience in the chair than Cortez, but identifying marks were strictly prohibited before our lover retired from super-spydom.
As much as I’ve enjoyed the past year we’ve spent together on a selfish level, shattering my personal record for the number of orgasms I’ve had in a twelve month period, it’s been even more amazing to nurture the sprout of their attraction so it could grow into affection. Finally, it blossomed into a vibrant expression of undying love that makes all of our lives more beautiful.
There are no more doubts.
The three of us fit together like pieces of a puzzle that form a perfect picture. Take away any one and there’s clearly something missing. Not only in bed, or in our broader personal life, but in business as well.
These days Cortez is the Chief Security Officer of Clearwater Industries. He didn’t fuck his way to the top, either. He earned the title by implementing improvements that have already reduced incidents within the home office and at the properties managed by Rogan’s real estate powerhouse by more than fifty percent company wide.
In the meantime, Rogan has expanded his empire and recently won his industry pr
ofessional group’s Developer of the Year Award for the third time in a row.
My guys are simply amazing.
They’re even rubbing off on me. Ever since Rogan drew an insane amount of publicity to my studio, I’ve been booked solid on commissions. He convinced me to substantially raise my prices to whittle the queue to a manageable level and maximize profits from my artwork.
It seems that move made collectors take notice and increased demand yet again. It’s unbelievable. In addition, he followed through on his promise to help me write a business plan for a traveling exhibition. Cortez arranged the security needed for my insurance company to approve the remote showings. We attended the kickoff of the international tour a few weeks back. Now that Rogan is a super model as well as a mogul, he’s a household name. He’s been bombarded with new and exciting opportunities for his company.
Every dream I’ve ever had, and some things I never dared to imagine possible before I met Cortez and Rogan, have come true.
Rogan clears his throat. I look over at him. He says softly, “I like that look on your face.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s the one I hoped I would see someday. You’re finally at peace.”
“I am. Or I will be, once this is finished.”
Cortez and I are getting tattoos on the outside of our left thighs while Rogan is getting one on his right. That way they’ll make sense when we’re in our favorite position—Rogan lying on his back while I make love to him missionary style and Cortez fucks me from behind.
Romantic, isn’t it? I think so, too.
What could be a greater testament to our love than being joined like that, bringing each other indescribable pleasure?
Nothing.
So what are we permanently inscribing on our flesh to commemorate our first anniversary as a committed polygamous triad?
A variation on our favorite Chinese fortune, of course.
Three words, one each. Surrounded by elaborate line-work that, to me, symbolizes exactly how entwined our lives have become. Inseparable.
