The false grunts and groans, and the lies about how much pleasure each character is experiencing.
The hour-long erections and pussies that never get sore from too much pounding.
The false kisses that attempt to portray a welter of emotion but fail to do so.
It’s the complete opposite when I watch Zane and Jake’s lips brush together in more than just a peck. My body instantly hits a red alert.
Today started off on a high and it’s ending on one. Ever since Jake left the kitchen this morning and I watched him and Zane kiss, a low buzz has been droning through my brain all day. Just waiting for something to kindle it and turn it into a gigantic conflagration with the power to make all three of us self-combust.
In the end, the trigger had been as spectacular as the build-up. I’d been in the bedroom, reading a book I’d bought this afternoon. When Zane had first moved me in here, he’d frog marched me into a few stores to furnish the apartment in ways that suited my taste. So, because of that, I have a huge armchair in the bedroom that sits beside the window overlooking Central Park.
Sequestered inside the luscious folds of down-cushioned comfort, I’d been in a half-doze. Almost asleep, but not. Then Zane had appeared in the periphery of my vision and with him, Jake. They hadn’t approached me, even though I knew they knew I was there. Watching them and all of a sudden, waiting.
They’d started to kiss, and the sight of their lips brushing, of their tongues starting to tangle, had a moan gurgling in my throat. I’d kept quiet, because I’d wanted to see more, and they didn’t disappoint.
Within seconds of their rough, biting kisses, Jake’s hands had grabbed Zane’s belt buckle. Fumbling fingers had worked the fastening loose and with jerky pulls, he’d managed to work it free then toss the belt on the floor. Zane had been edging Jake’s shirt upwards, dragging the material against creamy, muscle-corrugated flesh until he’d pulled their mouths apart to tug the shirt overhead. With their bodies separated, save for the fingers pulling at Zane’s fly, he’d taken the opportunity to divest himself of his own shirt and that had soon joined Jake’s on the floor.
There was an edge to their movements, an uneasiness. With the length of their relationship, I’d expected smooth touches and relaxed enjoyment of each other’s caresses. But here, I’d sensed the desperation. The nerves. And it was then that I recognized how our relationship had been progressing in one regard, but this aspect of our unit had totally failed to be cultivated.
Of course, I’ve known that they haven’t been sleeping together and been aware that this side of the relationship was in desperate need of attention. But the shaking hands and desperate movements spoke to me and told me that they’d never thought to do this again.
I don’t know what had happened to make them come together. I’d been relaxing in the bedroom and as was usual, had left them to do what they do throughout the day. I’ll never ask them what happened, why they came together after such a long time apart. I only know that at that moment, there was a turning point and we turned toward a bright and successful future together. Not one of disaster, which was something we only narrowly averted.
That I didn’t realize that was unnerving.
Every aspect of this relationship has to function for us to be happy together. And for the last two and a half months, that hasn’t been happening.
Our time together as a trio started at that moment. With Jake’s hand gripping Zane’s clock, and Zane unfastening the fly on Jake’s pants to do the same to him.
As I watched in awe, as both men jacked the other off, with their mouths once again returning to battle, the heat pulsing through my veins was like nothing I could ever have foreseen. Watching porn flicks on my tablet as I masturbated in the bath back in Paris was no kind of preparation for the real deal.
But the weird thing was, I didn’t want to touch myself.
I wanted to watch and absorb as both men worshipped the other and I, in turn, worshipped from afar.
I watched with love in my heart and eyes as Zane sank down to his knees and took Jake’s cock into his mouth. It didn’t surprise me that Zane did this first. In his own way, he’s a caregiver and in this one move, he was saying sorry for all the past hurts. Jake’s fingers raked through Zane’s hair, tugging at the thick locks with his own head flung back in ecstasy as he accepted the apology and returned the love aimed his way.
I sensed that and my heart melted for both of them.
I watched as Jake climaxed and Zane swallowed every drop. I watched as Jake helped him stand, his hands looping around his waist as he brought his mouth to the one that had just brought him pleasure. He kissed and ate at Zane’s lips, tasting himself there and thanking Zane.
Together, they half-walked, half-kissed their way to the bed. And blindly, Zane reached out for the nightstand on his side of the bed. When lube had appeared in the drawers, I don’t know, but it was there and he grabbed it. His fingers flailed at the drawer, he nearly pulled it out of the containing socket, it was in no way a smooth move. But the urgency was there again and I watched, once more in awe, as Jake was turned around and urged over the side of the bed.
I sat in silence, my heart beating in my throat, my stomach twisting and my sex pulsing with desire as Zane coated his shaft with lube and then proceeded to apply it to Jake’s butt. The angle was difficult for me to easily see, but my imagination played a huge role there and I didn’t need to see Zane fucking Jake. I just needed to watch the connection and to be a part of this, their first union since we all got together.
Watching Zane and Jake make love was a life-changing moment. It wasn’t how I imagined. It was more and it was heart wrenching. Love for them both filled me and that they’d done this in a way that didn’t exclude me, just made me feel at peace with myself, them, and the world.
Seeing the lines of exertion on Jake’s face as Zane fucked his ass, the pleasure and the pain, the tension and the strain, resonated with me utterly. Taking note of Zane’s features, his own inner battles being fought as he strived to climax, to fuck the man he loved and to unite them in a way that only sex can bond…
How could it not change my life?
And when Zane eventually climaxed and the pair of them collapsed on the bed, it was my pleasure to nudge them into moving. To show them I loved them. To nestle myself beside Jake, so that Zane and I sandwiched him. Telling him without words, he might have started out as the outsider, especially where I was concerned, but that was no longer the case.
And we spent the rest of the day in bed. Not fucking, not making love, just being in love.
Of course, that had to change eventually. They might have been sated, but arousal still simmered under the surface of my body. As powerful and as moving as watching them together had been, it had also been one of the most sexually stimulating experiences of my life.
But that need wasn’t even broached until later in the evening. And now, my knees throb from my fixed position, my eyes ache from looking up at two men kissing as I suck their dicks, but do I care? No. I relish the ache.
And the pair of them aren’t just men. They’re my men.
Those lips are mine.
These cocks are mine.
Just as I’m theirs.
Rubbing the two glans together, I watch as pre-cum from two separate cocks merge. The instant it does, my mouth laps up both sets of juices, watering at each man’s distinct taste.
For a second, my eyes close. I go blind to the spectacle of above. I don’t see the tongues clashing and dueling with a violence that is so unlike even their roughest of kisses with me. The teeth biting, until one of them will have a bruise. The jaws getting fiercer and fiercer as arousal pools in their bellies.
With one hand, I settle on Zane’s balls and lave Jake’s cock with all of my mouth’s attention. Taking in as much as I can, I palpitate my tongue around the rigid cylinder between my lips. Wetting it, I let my head bob up and down, caressing the shaft with every part of my mouth.
I hear a groan and know the kiss has stopped, it’s Jake’s. A part of me is thrilled to have his full attention in the midst of the sensual battle going on overhead and my eyes dart up to see that Jake’s head is flung back, his eyes clenched shut, crow lines delineated in tense pleasure as Zane nibbles at his neck and throat while I nibble down below.
I pull free from his shaft and bob down, taking one testes into my mouth. Rolling the egg back and forth, tautening and pulling at the loose skin, I feel the dampness on my forehead as Jake’s cock bobs about, leaking pre-cum on to my face.
A year ago, hell, a few months ago, I’d have been repulsed.
Now, my pussy pulses in time to a song the three of us craft when we’re all together.
I anoint the other ball, massaging it between my tongue and cheek, prodding it with the tip of the tensile muscle before releasing it and blowing cold air on to the wet flesh. His hands come down to grip my head and his rigid hold, the fierce pull as he tugs at my hair, sets me aflame.
Before I know what’s happening, my shoulders are grabbed and with a force that has me grunting in shock, I’m thrown down against the mattress. My legs are caught and spread so wide that the tendons in my inner thighs pull and strain. Back arching, because I know what’s coming, I push my tits out in a silent beckoning. A hand answers the call and fingers bite down on a greedy nipple. The other is fucking me, four fingers thrusting in and out of my cunt, in and out with staccato, almost mechanical bursts.
Uncaring about neck strain, I tilt my head up and see my pussy spread wide. Zane’s hand, palm up, his fingers screwing me. My eyes dart up to the man behind him and I feel the instant my pupils dilate as I watch Jake coat his cock with lube. His hand jacks up and down, coating it, liberally soaking each vein-laden inch with moisture. I feel dazed, blinded by such a sight, and then, I see no more as a set of teeth bite down on my clit.
Not gently, not in a sensual attack, but in an honest to God bite.
My scream echoes throughout the room and just as my hands reach behind me to grip the bedstead, sinews bleeding white at the pressure of my clasp, Zane’s cock is at the entrance to my pussy and he slams in deep.
With his cock in me to the hilt, Zane almost flops forward so that his forearms hold him up and bracket my head. This close, I can feel his breath brushing my mouth, and his teeth nibble down on my lower lip, suddenly pinching the flesh as he’s pushed forward with the force of Jake’s penetration.
Before the move can even quiver through my body, Zane’s loud grunt sinks into my senses and then, there are no more. Zane doesn’t have to move an inch as Jake uses his body, jerking him back and forth with the force of his thrusts.
The constant friction within the hidden depths of my pussy has me clawing and scraping down his spine, gouging out flesh with the sensations pummeling me.
My fingers move in between us, slip to Zane’s groin, and where our sexes join, they grab his balls and squeeze. The point of pain has Zane howling, but within seconds, his climax collides with the walls of my sex. His cum filling me to overflowing, seeping out to drench the sheet underneath us.
From reading Zane’s books, I know that his butt must have clamped down on Jake, because within seconds, he isn’t the only one howling.
Jake’s thrusts still force Zane into movement, something that has him grunting and groaning with over-sensitivity. Then Zane collapses on me and Jake on top of him. Their weight is welcome, my body squished beneath them, and for a second, I feel on the brink of explosion. My nerves twitching and flickering on and off with the depth of the pressure above me. And then, it quivers away. As gossamer-fine as fairy dust.
My back arches and twitches underneath Zane’s weight, jostling him and making him grunt, in turn prodding Jake into jerking back and forth. A cry escapes me, one of need, one of hunger. I feel the release of some pressure as Jake climbs off Zane, who in turn, slips free of my reluctant pussy. The muscles clamp down, urging him to remain but he pulls out, leaving me empty. A vast space in need of filling.
And then, two mouths are there. Lips suckling and pulling, tugging and licking. I can feel their mouths connecting, as they kiss each other while kissing me.
Two sets of teeth nibble on my nether lips, two tongues thrust against each other inside my cunt, slurping at Zane’s cum as though it was a vintage wine. Then one mouth settles on my clit in an open-mouthed kiss, pulling the nub against a set of teeth as the other mouth flutters over my butt and flickers against the taut, puckered muscle.
The instant it prods down, pressing forward in a silken thrust, I come. My body shattering into a million pieces only to be reforged into one, for it to then shatter again. My legs shoot up as a keening cry screams out of my throat, my knees almost hitting my breasts in reaction as ecstasy has me shooting upwards, hitting the stars and exploding with more power than a supernova. And still, the mouths continue, keeping me up there, letting me soar through a space that is all the more powerful for it only exists in my head.
Only when my whimpers sound more like pain than pleasure do they stop. Do the tongues cease their prod and the mouths their sucking.
My legs fall laxly to the side once more, my body open, spread-eagled. A man slumps heavily beside me. His arm curls about my waist, and I’m pulled against him so that my sweat-slicked skin glues itself to his.
Jake.
The other drops down, making the mattress bounce. His hand reaches for mine as his foot nudges my toes. His lips brush my cheek, before he settles away from me, our sole point of connection our fingers and toes.
Zane.
In the dazed aftermath, we just lie there, drifting in and out of a doze. Our bodies reacting to the ferocity of our lovemaking.
And it is love.
Irregular, extraordinary….downright weird, whatever your belief, it’s there. At the very heart of this trio.
Feeling smug and satisfied, I drift off to sleep in both men’s arms.
* * *
“You fucking slut. You’ve been asking for this.”
The words as well as the slam of the fist into the side of my head jerk me from sleep and push me toward the outer edge of consciousness.
The voice triggers an awakening of sorts, but another blow to my jaw has me wondering if this is a really shitty dream.
The pain makes me realize that it isn’t.
“Whore. I saw them. Together. And you’re here too.” More punches, more aches. It’s ceaseless. Each statement is punctuated by more agony. “The three of you. It’s unnatural. Slut. They’re perverts. But you? Adding you to the mix? I could have put up with watching you crawl into the building, could have left you alone. Then I realized you need a lesson. You need to be taught, and those two faggots can’t do a real man’s job. You can’t taunt a man and not expect him to break. This is your fault, slut.”
The rage infused into this stranger’s voice is immense. The bed is shaking with his aggression. And I can feel flecks of drool hitting me with each and every spewed word.
“The three of you. Together. You fucking whore. You’re not safe to be around. You pollute a man’s air. Make him think dirty. Make him think things no man should.” The last few words of his outburst are a shriek of rage. They echo and bounce around my ear drums, adding to my pain both mentally and physically, because almost as though the furious cry was an alarm, an alert, his hand whistles through the air to collide with my face.
My arms won’t work and I can’t get my legs to do little more than jerk around uselessly. My lack of mobility is frightening in itself. I want to lash out. Inside, I’m screaming. Punching him with the same ferocity as he’s hitting me. But my body won’t cooperate.
I’ve never felt so hopeless, so useless.
As I lay there, taking the blows, hatred bubbling away inside of me, I realize two things. And while I can’t feel better, I can at least understand. I’m in bed, trapped beneath the comforter. My legs are pinned down to the bed by that and the man’s weight above me. My arms are tethered ov
erhead and the instant I make the realization, my shoulders begin to ache like a bitch from the unnatural position. How he managed to rearrange me without my waking up both astounds and concerns me.
And to do it when I’m asleep? The most vulnerable part of anybody’s day?
If I make it out alive, then this will fuck up my sleeping pattern for the rest of my life.
It’s weird how that is a goal.
Because if I’m forever suffering with night terrors thanks to this attack, at least it means I’m alive. I exist.
Neither Zane nor Jake are at my side. And for some reason, save for the bastard hitting me, I’m alone. Being used like a human punch bag, for whatever reason known only to the motherfucker doing the hitting.
I want to look at the person doing this to me, want to understand, but for some reason my eyes won’t work. Determined, I pry them open and through the agony of such a move, realize that the blows rained down upon my unsuspecting head have glanced off my cheeks and brows. The tender flesh of my eyelids is swollen shut, already—the man isn’t playing around. Whatever I’ve done to piss him off is major.
Questions pummel me with the same ferocity as his fists.
Who is he?
Why is he here and how did he get in?
Where are Zane and Jake?
I want answers and through the sliver of light, my eyes glance over a face I’ve seen before.
“Henry?”
The sound of my croaking voice jerks both of us out of the weird stupor into which we’d both fallen. One where I let him hit me, accepting the blows. And one where he just punched and struck me as though I wasn’t a real person. As though I was a rag doll.
The concierge of Zane’s building hovers above me. And now I know who it is, who’s doing this, I feel even worse. My thoughts are ragged, but all I know is that my senses were right. Everything about Henry was wrong. Those creepy eyes that followed me about, whenever he saw me. The inappropriate looks, glances but never a word spoken to give me justification to complain. I never thought he was a danger. Just thought he was a creep.
Sinfully Theirs: Naughty Nookie Part I Page 38
