Naughty Wishes Part IV

by Joey W. Hill

  Staring down at her, he used the other to guide his cock between her parted lips.

  Freaking bliss. She sucked on him frantically, so close to climax as Chris kept moving inside her. "Master," she gasped around him. "Please . . ."

  "You hold out until we say it's okay. Tell me you understand." He barked it, startling her into looking up into his hazel eyes, which were fevered with desire and yet cool and in control at once. Which only made this even more intense for her. Probably for all of them. She nearly lost the fight as she imagined Chris's view. Looking down at his cock pushing into her cunt; looking up merely a few inches to see Geoff's tight ass before him, flexing as he pushed himself into her mouth.

  "Yes, Master," she said against his steel flesh. Geoff shoved himself deeper into her mouth, letting her feel how much he wanted from her, how much they both wanted. Oh God, it was too much. She was far too close. But she poured every bit of willpower she could into obeying him. The need swelled inside her until she had to treat it like a life-or-death decision. Even that might not be enough to hold her back, but she imagined it was Chris or Geoff's life dependent on her willpower.

  Except her mind knew it wasn't life-or-death. It was all about losing herself in the bliss of an orgasm, and if she screwed up, it just meant she might get a spanking or something even better . . . Oh hell, she was going over, she couldn't stop it.

  A change of plan saved her from failing her Master. A muttered comment between Geoff and Chris and suddenly she was lifted in Geoff's arms as he eased her from Chris. She would have wailed in protest at the loss of that incredible fullness, but she was put down on the carpet and Geoff slid into her where Chris had just been. The transition was seamless, the ripple that went through her as potent as an actual climax. Her response swelled beyond all expectations as Chris knelt behind Geoff, curled his large fingers into Geoff's hips and slammed into him as Geoff bent over her.

  It was a gift beyond measure, Geoff taking her and Chris inside of him, the three of them moving together like one thrusting, writhing animal, reaching a level of paradise impossible to explain and taking her to an edge incapable of being denied.

  "Love you," she panted. "Love you both . . . so . . . damn . . . much. Thank you . . ."

  Tears spilled out of her eyes, all of it so overwhelming and perfect. Geoff's gaze was fierce upon her, yet she felt the energy thrumming through his muscles and knew a certain amount of his focus was internal, keeping hold of what was happening between the three of them, the perfect pacing of it. It told her whatever that muttered conversation had been about, he'd permitted Chris to do this. He could open himself like that to Chris, and she loved him all the more for it.

  "I can't," she moaned. "Please . . ."

  "Let her go over," Chris said.

  Geoff apparently squeezed down on him, because Chris let out a strangled sound. Geoff turned his head, scraping his teeth over Chris's mouth.

  "Say please, you big bastard. You don't top me just because you're in my ass. You're the one wearing my brand."

  Chris moaned as Geoff reached back with his free hand and obviously did something moan-worthy. "Say it," Geoff whispered fiercely.

  "Please. Let her go, damn it. And go over for me."

  "We go together." Geoff's fevered gaze locked on Sam's. "Go," he breathed.

  She screamed like she was dying and being born at once, and maybe that wasn't entirely untrue. She lifted her hips off the ground, slamming Geoff even deeper inside her, and he braced himself over her, palms driving into the floor on either side of her head. Chris banded his great arm around Geoff's chest and thrust into his ass in a pummeling motion that had Geoff throwing up his head like a wolf showing his teeth. A moment later, he was uttering harsh male noises of release, flooding her pussy with his seed as Chris let go right after.

  They kept moving together, all of them, well past their bodies' breaking points. Vaguely, Sam knew none of them wanted to let go, holding on to that rhythm, that choreography that wove them together even tighter with every thrust and withdrawal.

  "Oh God . . ." Oh God. Thank you, God.

  Some minutes had passed before anyone spoke or moved, the only thing punctuating the air being rasping breath and thundering hearts. Sam finally managed to open her eyes, in time to see Chris press a kiss to Geoff's shoulder and Geoff turn his head to return the favor, a brush of lips over his forehead.

  Chris was the first to recover motor function, withdrawing and murmuring something about washcloths. He disappeared down the hall into the bathroom, the running water telling them he was cleaning up and heating the water to dampen the cloths. He returned with one for each of them. With a groan, Geoff slowly pulled out of her, but he didn't leave her without his body heat. He settled her into the cradle of his thighs, putting his back against the half wall that divided the kitchen from the living room. Taking a cloth from Chris, he cleaned between her thighs with gentle strokes.

  "I could do that," she said.

  "You're ours to care for, right?" He pressed the heat of the cloth against her and held it there, firmly enough she felt the blood pulse through her cunt against his touch. She nodded, her throat suddenly tight. Chris had also brought bottled water from the kitchen and now knelt on the other side of her, offering it. They cared for one another. It was intuitive for all three of them. That desire to care had been there even before sexual desire had entered into it. As such, she knew it would pervade the many ways they'd explore sexual intimacy and a life together as lovers, where they'd need to nurture one another in myriad ways, large and small.

  Sam recalled what Flo had said, that the good response to an event like the Carnival showed things were changing. Even where opposition existed, there were others like her, Geoff and Sam. People who believed love had a broader definition, and it could be celebrated in all its positive forms. Remembering such a thing would help her always focus on what was most important. Not the opinions of others, but what lay in her heart, and the hearts of the two men beside her.

  She put her hands on them, touching faces, chests, letting them feel the painful joy of her need. "I don't know how to say it. This feeling . . . it's like the closest thing to . . ."

  "To what everything important is supposed to be about," Chris said.

  She caressed his jaw. "What did you mean, that day in the park? When I asked you if it would have been easier if I'd chosen one of you?' You replied, 'Depends on who was chosen.' You didn't want to explain that then. Can you explain it now?"

  Geoff shifted behind her, an indication of his curiosity. She had to suppress a little smile as Chris's focus turned inward, thinking his answer through. Geoff pressed his lips to her limp fingers, as they both waited patiently.

  At length Chris shifted his gaze to Geoff. He held there a moment, such that Geoff grew more still behind her body. "If you had chosen, Sam, it should have been Geoff. He's more of what you needed . . ."

  Chris shook his head as they began to protest. "And even if that's just my bullshit insecurities about all this Dom stuff, it was more than that. I could handle having my heart broken. I couldn't handle seeing his broken again. Not after seeing what his family did to him. Or what my dad did to my mom."

  Sam closed her hand on his big wrist. "Chris."

  Geoff's jaw tightened against the side of her head. "He did it to you, too, man."

  "Eh, yeah, but . . ." Chris shrugged. Sam expected the gesture was an echo of the boy he'd been, because suddenly she could imagine him as a serious-eyed child, taking it upon himself to be man of the house long before any other boy would have considered it. But not every boy had the makings of a wonderful man so early in life. Chris had. She was sure of it, because otherwise Geoff wouldn't have been so totally in love with him for so long.

  "What mattered to me was taking care of her," Chris said. "Making sure she knew that she was enough. That I would never be like my dad. That she could always rely on me to love her and be there for her. That kind of took the place of that hole, if t
hat makes sense. Like taking care of the two of you."

  Locked in place by the weight of the emotions passing between the two men, Sam could only watch in simple, painful happiness as Geoff reached out and clamped a hand on Chris's shoulder, tightening his grip. "I guess that means Sam was always right," her Master said. "About us being a triangle. I couldn't bear hurting you that way, either. And neither of us can tolerate her unhappiness. So it's a trinity or nothing. We work best when there are no limits between the three of us."

  He hauled Chris closer, roughly enough he had to put a hand on Geoff's knee to keep from toppling into Sam. Which also gave her the excuse to grip Chris's biceps. "And if it wasn't for you," Geoff said steadily, "my heart would have been screwed up forever. Maybe putting me in a place where I couldn't have seen the love you're both offering as the gift it is, or tried my damnedest to return the favor."

  Chris swallowed, his eyes suspiciously moist. "If this is where you do the old-lady Titanic speech about how I saved you in every possible way a person can be saved . . ."

  Geoff snorted and shoved him away, following it up with a headslap that Chris blocked, grinning. "Fuck. See, you made her cry."

  "Happy tears," Sam declared, wiping them away. Then, because she was delighted, and being a girl made such gestures completely acceptable, she twisted around and flung herself at both of them to hug them close. It allowed them to put their arms around each other, a three-way hug she knew would add the right kind of emotional follow-through to what they'd just told one another. Girls were good for that, too.

  At length they drew back. Chris smiled, kissed her palm, then bemused Geoff by taking his hand and kissing his palm. Geoff stroked his hair.

  "Sloppy romantics, both of you," he said, but there was no criticism there. "By the way, before we call it a night, I intend to have your ass myself," he told Chris. "And I expect you'd like to have her come around your cock."

  "You're the Dom," Chris said, amused. "I'm not going to argue with you. Not right now."

  Geoff snorted. When Chris started to get up, Geoff slid his hands under Sam's armpits and half lifted her, Chris completing the move by scooping her up off the floor. "You know, I can walk occasionally," she pointed out, dropping her head back over Chris's arm to look at Geoff upside down as he got to his feet.

  "We plan to keep your knees weak until dawn," Geoff told her, bending to kiss her forehead. "Got a problem with that?"

  "I'll let you know," she said, a little more faintly than she'd intended. His light smile couldn't detract from the flash of heat in his expression, which told her he wasn't teasing her about that. Chris's satisfied male expression said he was in perfect accord.

  She was right, what she'd told Flo. They might kill her with their unending needs, but if being taken over and over by the men she loved until her heart gave out was her fate, who was she to argue with destiny?

  ***

  She made them omelets for breakfast. While the coffee was brewing, she stood at the kitchen window wearing one of Chris's shirts and watching the sun rise. She brought the meal to the bedroom on a tray and sat cross-legged between them, snacking off the fruit she'd added to their plates and exchanging tidbits of conversation with Geoff as Chris sipped his coffee to wake up. Sometime during the night they'd both donned their shorts, but Chris didn't object as she ran her fingertips along his thigh and under the loose flannel leg of his to caress the curve of his testicles.

  Geoff stretched out farther to lean in and press his lips to the back of Chris's shoulder, which won him a bemused look from his friend. Remembering then that Grant had said they could touch the brand more freely the next day, she moved to look at it, run her fingers over the bird and the G branded into Chris's skin.

  "I really like this," she said, tipping Chris's head back and adjusting so he could lay it in her lap.

  He grunted, a pleased noise. Her gaze wandered over to notice how Geoff's brief shorts defined his genitals much more prominently than Chris's looser shorts, and Geoff was still in an early morning rigid state. Her fingers itched to touch him as well, but she found she was still shy about reaching for him without asking permission. It was Chris who saw her looking, gripped her hand and drew it over to press her palm against Geoff's groin. The two men watched her, Chris's eyes heavy-lidded with interest, Geoff's like a hawk's, making her think he'd probably punish her later for not asking, but he obviously had other plans first.

  The next thing she knew they had her on her side, Geoff licking strawberry jelly off her nipples and Chris pushing into her cunt from behind, cupping her breasts, thrusting and retreating until he reached a powerful, shuddering morning climax. Then his arms slid around her waist and across her chest, holding her fast as Geoff took her next, bringing her and him both to release.

  "Do you think it's possible for people to fuck each other to death?" she asked after another short postcoital doze.

  "As long as you keep bringing us food and water, we should be okay." Geoff chuckled in a logy voice. They lay there in a tangle of limbs, the fragrances of coffee, vegetable omelets and fresh fruit competing with the lingering scents of sex and need. "But I have an idea. Let's go lie out in the hammock together and watch the sun come up. We can bring coffee."

  "Your theory being, if we're outside where the neighbors might see us, we might exercise some restraint?"

  "Something like that." Chris winked at her. "Or we'll give them an eyeful and make them start their morning the same way we just did."

  "I'm not sure. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts look like they haven't had sex since the seventies."

  "They're probably having tons of wild jungle monkey sex behind closed doors," Geoff disagreed.

  "People always say that, but when you see monkeys have sex on documentaries, it's actually pretty tame." Sam made a quick motion with her hands. "In, out, done."

  "That's because they have cameras on them," Chris said. "If we ever go to a jungle on vacation, we'll see firsthand, real, live, undocumented monkey sex. It will freaking blow your mind."

  Sam was giggling as they pulled her out of bed. She bent over to retrieve Chris's shirt and yelped as Geoff gave her bare ass, lifted pertly in the air, a smart strike.

  "For not asking," he told her, though he tempered the stern look with a wink. "Plus your bare butt is too much of a temptation."

  She made a face at him, rubbing the stinging spot, but he came around the bed, pulling on his sweatpants before he bent and kissed her offended area. "There. All better. Put some panties on under that T-shirt, you shameless girl."

  She was very pleased Chris and Geoff went out into the yard as is, Chris in his flannel shorts and Geoff in the sweatpants, both bare-chested and with tousled hair, her handsome, sleepy men.

  Chris immediately sprawled in the hammock and tumbled her down in it with him, so she could nestle in his arms, her cheek on his furry chest. Geoff took a seat in a patio chair he pulled over, stretching his legs out over Chris's and bracing them against Chris's calf, bare toes curling against his friend's flesh. They sat that way quietly for a while, Geoff moving them in a slow rock as he sipped coffee.

  If pressed to do so later, Sam wouldn't have remembered most of the specifics they talked about, but the men's words were sun-jeweled raindrops to her, absorbing through her skin. Geoff's smooth timbre, Chris's deeper, rougher voice, her own like a light music weaving in among their comments. Random discussion about types of coffee, possible future trips, things they'd seen last night, the fairy garden Chris had made her. Nothing earth-shattering, but that was what made it so memorable and treasured. The men she loved, who loved her and each other, chatting and comfortable with one another and the life they were building together.

  She had no illusions; there would be less-pleasant days. But they'd started out as friends and had been roommates for long enough to weather days when one or more of them wasn't in the best mood, where they lashed out about work crap, home crap. They'd locked horns on different things before, and would again.
>
  She'd treasure all of it. Just as she treasured the casual way Chris was stroking her hair, occasionally pressing his lips to it. How she could tangle her fingers with his at her waist and caress his palm, his wrist, because he was hers. Geoff's foot, curled against Chris's calf, occasionally straightened, toes giving Chris's flesh a quick reminder of intimate contact. The way his gaze rested on Sam, she could see all sorts of titillating thoughts running through her Master's mind. Things he'd want to do, to explore, with both of them.

  Glancing at Chris, she realized the worries she'd had about how he'd resolve the Dominance and submission issues for himself were exactly as Geoff had predicted. She didn't need to fully understand any of it. The only important thing was that, however it was resolving itself, it seemed to be working for the three of them.

  When Geoff offered to get up and go refill Chris's coffee with his own, Sam lifted her head. "Can you bring Chris's pocketknife back out? He keeps it . . ."

  "In the front right pocket of his pants," Geoff finished. "He always has."

  As he disappeared into the house, she tilted her head up to Chris and smiled against his mouth as he kissed her. Chris was a toucher, a kisser, and she loved it. Loved how he did it so frequently, easily and naturally, the way he did so many things.

  "Why do you want my pocketknife? I know Geoff is annoying, but there's no need to resort to stabbing."

  She grinned but reached up and touched his face. "I love you."

  His brown eyes warmed with a wealth of emotions. "I love you, Sam. We both do."

  "I can speak for myself," Geoff said, returning, though there was humor, not reproof, in his tone. "I find her mildly tolerable. You far less so."

  "Well, I'd say fuck you, but my dick is tired. Though not for long," Chris promised, nudging her.

  "Take your time," she assured him. "A girl needs a recuperation period And by the way, you're welcome to take turns with each other and let me watch. Works for me."

  Geoff leaned over Chris, handing her the knife, and threaded his hand through Chris's hair, giving it a quick tug before capturing her nape to do the same to her. "You're so selfless. Brat. Now, why do you need the knife?"