Sinfully Theirs: Naughty Nookie Part I

by Akeroyd, Serena

  And as he trickles chocolate ice cream down between the lips of my sex, pressing the cold metal of the spoon against my clit, I shriek, my eyes clenching down to hide from the spotlights overhead, my hands gripping at the counter edge.

  My legs, of their own volition, spread wider and I jerk my feet up so that they’re curled about the counter too. Letting my thighs fall apart, I give Jake my silent permission to suckle every inch of me.

  It takes him a millisecond to accept my invitation.

  His tongue is there, slurping down between my pussy lips, catching every drop of ice cream in a disappointingly rapid amount of time. His hands come to my hips and he arranges me so that they’re flush against the counter again, rather than arching up or down. He trails more ice cream over my sex, concentrating on my clit, letting the creamy substance mingle with my own and once again, he licks me clean. This time, the complete attention to my clit has my body doing a jig of its own.

  He bites down, nibbles, kisses, and suckles. The one-hundred percent attention to my pleasure zone has me winging my way toward the target. And like a bullet, I hit dead in the center.

  The last thing I recall is my head falling to the side, while in the doorway, Zane stands watching us.

  That alone has pleasure shuddering through me with the force of a Richter-ten earthquake.

  Minutes, seconds, milliseconds later, I’m back in my body and Jake is still between my legs. This time licking at the entrance to my pussy, rimming the hole and generally keeping me on edge. My muscles are juddering with sensitivity.

  My eyes are dazed in the face of such attention and it takes a while to come to. To notice that Zane is still there, and that he’s no longer just watching, he’s jerking off. Pants around his hips, cock pulled through the fly, tension firming his jaw as voyeuristic arousal attacks him with its meaty fists.

  Far from being stunned, my gaze clashes with his before retreating to his cock. And back again.

  Watching him jacking his dick as he watches Jake pleasure me has to be one of the sexiest encounters of my life. And with these two guys, I’ve experienced a lot.

  “Fuck me, Jake,” I whisper, my voice pleading even as my eyes are still connected to Zane’s.

  I pull away and look down, noticing that Jake is staring up at me from between my legs. He knows Zane’s there and from the strained look on his taut face, it’s hitting him right between the eyes too.

  He rolls up and keeping his focus on me, begins to unfasten his trousers. They slither down, revealing a cock with no underwear to get in the way. I lick my lips at the sight of his erection. We’ve become quite good friends, his dick and me and it’s wonderful to see it again. My pussy creams a little more in a warm, beckoning welcome for its possession.

  He holds it firmly at the base, almost as though he’s trying to stop himself from coming and the tightness of his grip merely confirms that. As does the look on his face, one of grim control. His mouth tense and taut, white lines bracketing his soft lips. He reaches forward and slips his cock along the length of my pussy. Gathering moisture, we both watch as his dick begins to glisten with wetness under the spotlights. And then, he’s there, at the entrance to my body and forging a path deep inside me.

  A cry escapes my throat as he tunnels his way in, urging slick muscles to separate and allow his full penetration. They comply, quivering around him and we both grunt as he hits home, his hips now flush against mine.

  He stays there. Doesn’t move. In the glare of the spotlights, I can see the sweat beading his brow and as I look down, my own flesh is slick too. My gaze travels down to our joined sexes and a low groan vibrates through me at the sight. My wet lips are pulled wide apart by the thick shaft, exposing the tender nub of my clit, pushing it out of the hood. His dick is almost purple to the pulsing pink of my cunt and the sight of such a union has my breath screaming in and out of my lungs.

  Feeling like there isn’t enough oxygen to satisfy me, I let my head drop back and urge myself to calm. I don’t care about the picture I make. One of wild, wanton abandon. My legs spread as wide as they can be, Jake’s cock deeply bedded inside me, elbows supporting me, keeping me upright but my head flung back in ecstasy.

  It thrills me to know that Zane is watching every minute of it, it’s just a shame he can’t see what’s going on deep inside.

  I know Jake by now.

  He’s a pussy tease.

  He’s quite capable of staying still like this for minutes on end. But I have to say, this is the longest time he’s gone without moving. Until now, his hips have always started to rock, almost as though his body is working against his will.

  But now, his control seems to be complete. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter beside my thighs and they’re white with strain. His breathing is harsh. His chest is billowing in and out with reaction and his head is bowed. But he isn’t moving.

  I jerk my hips, trying to force him into action, but it doesn’t work. So instead, I squeeze down on his dick, hoping that will instead.

  It doesn’t. But I can no longer support myself. I slam into the counter with a faint poof of air but it doesn’t stop me from fluttering the inner muscles of my pussy, rhythmically massaging his shaft, kissing it with silken, wet flesh.

  Each pulsation sucks his shaft deeper, deeper and deeper still until he’s bowed over me, hands beside my head and a look of exquisite torture on his face. And then, he breaks. His hips jerk back and ram into me. And it’s just what I need after that exercise of torture.

  The tip of his cock flutters against something that feels as though it’s never been touched before. It has, thanks to these guys, but the sensation is still so new, it’s awe-inducing. His shaft prods and nudges that exquisitely delicate area, never really getting to grips with it, but those slight touches have my legs clapping together and squeezing Jake as the most intense orgasm of my life keens through me.

  And it’s a combination of factors. Jake is a hot fuck and I’m horny. Zane’s watching. Jake has got me so wet that he’s pummeling me deeper than he ever has before.

  In the back of my mind, I can hear the wail crying out of me. It goes on for what seems like an endless amount of time. My nipples surge, elongate in reaction to such stimulus. My clit throbs and vibrates and my cunt gets all the wetter.

  But it’s nothing to the one-two punch at my temple. This is so good it hurts. Every muscle in my body clamps down, tensing and it’s only then, as I start to ache from the pleasure roiling through me like a flood flushing through low lands, that I get my earlier wish.

  My eyes flutter shut and the land of poker-hot orgasms embraces me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next time I’m awake, Zane has disappeared somewhere and I’m alone with Jake. In a bed and not on a kitchen counter that’s in desperate need of sterilization.

  Beneath me, there’s a wet patch, but I refuse to be embarrassed. If anything, I’m uncomfortable. I roll against the man dozing at my side and push him over so that I’m away from the cold fabric.

  He grumbles and my eyes pop open at the sound. It’s only then that I realize I identified him, half-awake, half-asleep, without the use of sight. I knew him, instinctively. And it’s easy to say that maybe I knew it was Jake, because he’s the one who just fucked me, but trust me, the only thing on my mind was escaping the damp and chill material and getting back to sleep.

  Without my sight, half-dead after a killer climax, I identified that Jake was at my side and that Zane wasn’t.

  That can only bode well, right?

  I don’t know if Zane got his rocks off but from the wetness between my thighs, I know Jake has and that he somehow lugged me from the kitchen to the bedroom. I might just swoon at the sign of such a physical demonstration of his strength.

  It’s so good to be beside him again. He takes up a lot of room in the bed, too much room, but he’s so hot and warm that he’s a pleasure to snuggle against. And he isn’t averse to that either. My ex would jerk away from me if
I so much as curled up against his side. Jake lets me hug him, embrace him, spoon him, hold him... whatever I want goes. Same with Zane.

  I’m spoiled, I know. But it’s bliss, because I’m only just coming to realize how affectionate a person I am and how that side of my nature has been dying a slow death all these years.

  With a sigh of pleasure, I wrap an arm about Jake’s waist and pull myself close. I’m not altogether surprised when his hand reaches for mine and his fingers bridge my own.

  “Sleep well?”

  With my forehead pressed to his shoulder, my nod is transmitted to him through touch.

  “I don’t even remember you bringing me to bed.”

  There’s a grin in his voice, as he murmurs, “Would you have preferred the counter?”

  Prodding him in the belly with a finger, a part of me wonders where this easy familiarity came from. Not that I’m questioning my good fortune, I’m just half-shocked, half-pleased is all. “Depends. If I was lying on you and you were on the counter…then I wouldn’t mind.”

  He snorts. “Why am I not surprised? I thought my bed would be more comfortable.”

  As close as we could possibly be, a question pops into my mind, one that I’ve wanted answering for nearly all the time I’ve been here and never had the balls to ask.

  “Jake, why do you and Zane have separate bedrooms?”

  Whatever I’d expected when I’d come to this house, it hadn’t been that.

  His muscles flex, not with tension but with a shrug. “We don’t, really. It’s because we’re both stubborn asses.”

  Curious, I ask, “In what way?”

  He sighs again. “You’ll think it so petty the instant I tell you.”

  Even more curious, I say nothing and let him do the talking.

  “It’s about beds.” Another sigh.

  “Beds?”

  “Yeah. Well, mattresses, really.”

  “You’re not serious?”

  I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grimacing. “Unfortunately, I am. Zane prefers a soft mattress because of all the years of sleeping on Army-issue beds. Plus, of course, there’s his knee. And I like a hard one, because in college, I was injured during a football game. So every week, we alternate between bedrooms.”

  As unusual as it is, it answers a few more questions. Jake’s broken nose, for one and where that came from. “What position did you play?”

  He chuckles. “Why is it you never ask what I think you will? Quarterback. I was quite good actually, could have made a career out of it until this bastard linebacker came rocketing out of nowhere, blitzed down the field and in the process, nearly snapped my fucking spine in two.”

  “Ouch.” I press lines of kisses down the notches running down the center of his back. I had noticed a few scars, but they, like Zane’s, didn’t affect me in anyway. They didn’t revolt or attract, they were simply a part and parcel of two guys who are coming to mean more to me than I ever imagined possible.

  “Yeah.” He shivers a little at the gentle kisses and then, just as gently, pulls away. Wondering what he’s about, he soon answers my silent question by turning over, rolling so that he's facing me.

  “So, you swap beds every week?”

  His eyes twinkle in response to my amused question. “Yeah.”

  “That’s some compromise.”

  “We’ll have to get a mattress big enough for the three of us and one that we all like.”

  His comment has me freezing in my tracks. Not out of revulsion, but of sheer, heart-pumping want. I don’t know where it came from, why I even wanted it, but all of a sudden and out of nowhere, Jake has inadvertently tapped into a desire of mine. One I hadn’t even known existed.

  He takes my silence the wrong way.

  His brow puckers, quickly careering into a scowl. That tic in his jaw starts again, fluttering with his silent anger and then he sits up, turning his back to me again.

  Before he can rise, I press a hand to his spine and urge myself upright. Crawling over to him, I move my hand to his shoulder and grip the muscles tightly.

  I’m not capable of a grand speech. I just breathe the word, “Yes.”

  He’s still stiff. Even after my sibilant retort, but slowly, he relaxes and turns his head to look at me.

  I nod. “I want that. I really do.”

  After turning to face the wall again, he rakes a hand through his hair. “Good.”

  I massage the tense muscles at his neck and he sighs, leaning back into my caress. Now capable of talking like a normal human being, I ask, “Is this what you really want, Jake? I know you love Zane, but do you really want this...us? Because it will only work if everyone wants to be a part of this. Not if we’re here for other reasons.”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  His evasion disturbs me, but men are men. Even with my lack of experience, I know they’re not ones for intimate talk. Regardless of whether the man in question is bisexual or not.

  “Okay. Ask me.”

  His eyes are wary as he turns to look at me again. “Why are you here? With me and not Zane?”

  “Because I want to be with you.”

  His lower lip curls. “What? As payment for giving you access to my husband?”

  Annoyed, I pinch down where I’d, moments ago, been massaging. “You take that back. Do you know how hard it’s been for me? Coming to terms with the fact that I want two men? It hasn’t been a walk in the goddamned park, that’s for sure.”

  And it hasn’t. What started off as a ploy like Jake had just mentioned, metamorphosed the instant he fucked me that first time.

  Prior to that, I liked Jake. I had a crush on him and I was attracted to him. He’s a handsome man, entertaining and intelligent. He’d guided me around a city I’d fallen in love with and had given me his time and energy so as to show me more of it. At times, I’d known he was manipulating me with his request that I leave the country with him, with his buying me things and with Rousset, but I hadn’t felt unsafe.

  There’s something very dependable about Jake. And that calls to me, because I’m dependable too.

  I think that’s why Zane is attracted to the pair of us. Because he isn’t. Oh, I don’t mean he’s reckless or an adventurer. But he’s searching for something. He’s a creative soul tied and restrained by his traditional roots. With us, he can be safe. Grounded. Maybe Jake, in his manipulative way, noticed that Zane would have fewer reasons to cheat with a woman like me.

  A woman who screams home and hearth and who, even as Zane rightly put it —that I’m not his type— he still went after. He still chased.

  I love Zane, but I’m not blind to his faults. The first time I learned of Jake, I questioned Zane’s selfishness. His ability to do what he wanted regardless of the pain Jake must have experienced knowing that the man he loved, needed something he couldn’t provide. Even though it was with his blessing, I still couldn’t see any spouse easily accepting such a course that had Zane trawling bars in search of skirt.

  But the pair of us, we’re forgiving of Zane’s faults. And God, neither Jake nor I are perfect. We have our own irritating ways, but this is a learning curve for all of us. Personally, I’m thinking of it as a chance to take what, at this moment, I want more than anything in the world.

  And for me, it’s also a chance to take a step closer to Jake, because I feel something for him. Something that admittedly isn’t as intense as that instant connection I felt to Zane, but something deep and just as powerful in its own way. I’d like to explore it.

  In my heart of hearts, I’m not sure if this ménage a trois will work. But I want it to.

  When I concocted the idea of coming on to Jake in an effort to bring the three of us together, I focused on the negative. How society rejected relationships of this nature, how we’d never be accepted, always having to hide our connection if, miracle of miracles, we managed to stay a trio.

  But now, with the hard work done and the roots laid with us waiting for them to
take hold, I want this to work so badly.

  I need Zane in my life, selfishness and all. Because who am I to judge? I’ve faults of my own.

  I want Jake to be a part of that, not an unwelcome addition, but a full partner.

  Whatever is in Zane’s soul that bridges to mine, there’s something in Jake’s that does the exact same but in a completely different way.

  Zane makes me feel alive.

  Jake makes me feel safe.

  Zane’s body is hardwired to mine. And Jake’s isn’t far from that.

  I love Zane. And I have all the makings of sharing that with Jake.

  And for the moment, I’m at the center of both men’s attention and I’m flourishing. I’m like a flower that for the majority of its life has been in hibernation. Now, I’m blossoming and blooming and it’s all down to these two men for digging underneath and finding the real me.

  I know this will change. That it has to. Up until now, Jake and Zane have been very reticent. The separate-but-shared rooms haven’t been shared for a while, mattress swapping hasn’t been going on ever since our return. They’re together for meals but for very little else. That will gradually shift and we’ll have to see how the equilibrium is then, but I get the feeling, we’ll all be on tenterhooks until the two men revert to their old ways.

  As it is, I envisage plenty of sex in the upcoming future.

  And greedy nymph, yes, nymph that I am, I can’t wait.

  “What are you trying to say?” Jake breaks into my thoughts.

  Sighing under my breath, I whisper, “Isn’t it obvious? I want to be with you. Both of you. But at this minute, I really, really want a shower.”

  His chuckle is a relief to me. “I could do with one, too. You go on ahead, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “It’s okay. You do what you have to do.” Knowing how busy he is, especially after Rousset’s arrest where thousands of artifacts have to be returned to the original owners, an investigation he’s aiding, I press a kiss to his cheek and let my lips slide down so that they can catch his. He returns the gentle press and I smile against his mouth, before standing.