Hooch and Cake

by Heidi Cullinan

  Mitch pinched hard on the right nipple while he continued to nip at the left around his words. “Gonna put more in you, Sam. Two fingers each, then three.” He added the second finger and started to pump. “Tell us you want an ass full of fingers. Tell us you want us to fuck you together with our hands.”

  “I want you to fuck me together with your hands. Oh.” Sam cried out in a cascade as they each added a third finger. Sam shivered and chattered, but he rode them, bouncing his strained ass mindlessly on the clutch of digits in his butt. “Ohgod. I want you both to fuck me at the same time.”

  Mitch was down for that, but not when he was so drunk. He focused on fucking Sam as Randy sucked on his ear. They’d been so busy until Randy came they hadn’t played like this, not nearly enough. “How’s it feel, baby? What’s it like with so much in your hole?”

  “Full.” Sam grunted and writhed over their tangled hands. “It’s—” He jerked and let out a high-pitched sound as Randy added yet another finger.

  “Kiss Mitch.” Randy licked the length of Sam’s neck. “Lean forward and kiss Mitch, and I’m going to use too many fingers in you for a minute, you dirty little cunt. Then I’m going to fuck you while Mitch keeps fingering you. You’re gonna be so loose, honey. Loose and sore, and then we’re going to spank you.”

  Sam nuzzled Mitch’s mouth, whimpering. “And Mitch’s going to marry me on Valentine’s Day.”

  Mitch kissed Sam hard, his heart turning over at the sweet, heady combo of his fiancé being sentimental and soft as he leaned forward to be spread more lewdly than a porno shoot. When Randy replaced his fingers with his cock, riding along Mitch’s three digits buried deep, Sam thrust his tongue obediently into Mitch’s mouth, arching into the torture of his nipples.

  “I love you,” Sam whispered as Randy peeled off the condom and sprayed all over Sam’s back, Mitch’s fingers still working inside him.

  Mitch kissed him. “I love you too.”

  Mitch led his lover to the spanking bench Randy had started leaving in the living room because they were using it so much. Randy put Sam in place, facing Mitch, Sam smiling as Randy drew his knees wide open. As the blows came down, Sam gave it all to Mitch, let him see, made it clear this was for him. Just like always.

  Like it will be forever. And as of February fourteenth, a legally binding forever.

  For the first time in months, the prospect of a wedding made Mitch smile. He tore his gaze away from Sam to watch Randy, acknowledging that Randy was, once again, a big part of that happiness.

  As they did Sam together, as Randy whispered promises of making their wedding the best anybody ever had, Mitch began to plot, thinking of how he could pay Randy back for all he’d done, all he had yet to do.

  RANDY EVENTUALLY DID meet Emma Day properly at New Year’s. She and her fiancé hosted a party and invited Mitch and Sam, who brought Randy along. When she saw Randy, her eyes widened, but she put on a good face and welcomed him along with everyone else.

  It was a nice, boring social mixer, full of people who barely knew each other and relied on wine and mixed drinks to loosen themselves up enough to have fun. Randy helped them along—he’d brought along a bottle of Jameson and Baileys, and a new deck, and after making the guests Dirty Whiskeys, he taught everyone Texas Hold ’Em. It didn’t surprise him at all that Steve, Emma’s fiancé, was the first one to sit down and get his hands in. He didn’t know how to play, but he loved being flirted with, even by a gay man. Three drinks and five hands in, Steve had to lean on his fiancée for support.

  Shortly after midnight, Randy took a break on their apartment’s balcony, joining Mitch as he had a smoke. Mitch returned inside, but Randy lingered despite the cold, staring out across the sad little town and imagining the lights of Vegas from the top of a casino. When he felt someone come up behind him, he turned, grinning when he saw it was Emma.

  “Hello, hostess. Nice party.”

  “Thanks to you.” She leaned on the railing and looked out the same as Randy, though he knew she imagined different things. “I think I suck at throwing parties. It was so boring, and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

  “Parties are all about creating a space for people. There’s nothing wrong with relaxing around a campfire or on a deck. But if you want to make sure people have fun, you have to work them. Food, drink, activities. Or people. It’s why drugs and alcohol are so popular at these gigs. Even if you don’t have a people person on the guest list, get people smashed enough and they’ll turn animals all on their own.”

  Emma stared at him a moment, then shook her head. “I really thought you were an asshole when I first met you, but you’re not.”

  “I am an asshole. Everyone is. Some people hide it better than others, but I like to lay it out right away. Saves time.”

  “So did you use all your condoms?”

  “Yep. They worked out better than I anticipated. I hadn’t thought about how much the point of origin would matter, but that’s been a real treat.” He leaned sideways on the rail to face her. “So, let’s talk wedding, honey. Sam keeps listing you as his one person he thinks will come stand up for him on his side. How true is that? Are you down for the nice parts and the naughty parts? Also, who is he overlooking, maybe at school? Though honestly, having sat in that cafeteria for a few hours, I suspect he’s right. You people are a bunch of fish.”

  “Wait—what? Of course I’m going to Sam’s wedding. I keep saying I’ll help plan, but he tells me no. And yes, the naughty and nice parts, whatever that means. But what do you mean, I’m a fish?”

  He patted her head. “Don’t worry about the fish comment. Let’s talk afterparty. How do you feel about a leather-themed reception at a gay bar?”

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh. Wow, really? You think Sam would like it? He hasn’t said anything about being into something like that.”

  Randy smiled patiently. “Princess, I know Sam would like it. It’s you I’m not sure about.”

  “What? You mean—” She blushed. “You mean…Sam?”

  Randy gave her a moment to catch up, then pressed on. “Is that a yes or no?” When she only continued to blush, Randy sighed. “Look—it’s fine. I figured as much. But I think he wants you to stand as witness at the ceremony at least. I’m thinking of having the whole thing in Des Moines, but the ceremony will be nice, per Sam’s request. Though it’ll be on Valentine’s Day. You can skip the afterparty and go have your own, but it’s important to him you’re there for the ceremony itself. I’m willing to grease your wheels however necessary to make that happen.”

  “Stop.” Emma held up both hands. “You’re acting like I don’t care about Sam. Of course I’ll be there for his ceremony. And—well, tell me more about this reception. You just keep surprising me is all.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s the deal—Sam’s been sad for a long time now, and I know you’re all focused on your own show, but a drunk mole could plan a straight wedding.”

  She had chosen an unfortunate moment to sip at her drink and nearly choked on it, spitting most of it back into her cup. “Excuse me. I’ll have you know planning my wedding has been extremely stressful and I—”

  Randy shut her up with a flick of his wrist. “Save it. I know what stress you’ve been dealing with, and it’s nothing on what Sam’s been dealing with, which you’d know if you’d been paying half a fuck’s worth of attention. All you’re doing is arguing with your mother and the wedding planner and worrying about what color swatch matches the icing. He has got so many fucking handicaps it makes me scream. He hasn’t told you how many times he’s been turned away without exactly being turned away. And you aren’t thinking about how much help you’re getting financially where he’s not getting any at all. Not to mention you have piles of family, and he has his horrid aunt and uncle, and Mitch has a father from hell and a mother who abandoned him when he was eight. They have me. And you. So shut up about who has a stressful planning session and help me figure this shit out.”

  She blinked at
him for a second, then nodded, squaring her shoulders. “You’re right. Okay. Sorry. I’m in. Tell me what we need to do. How can I help?”

  “I need ideas. Help me brainstorm. Sam’s a special guy, and so is Mitch, and they deserve to have something that isn’t an also-ran. But this goddamn town.” He gestured vaguely at Middleton and shook his head.

  Emma relaxed a little. “I know what you mean. Though you’re right about everything you said, it’s not easy to plan my wedding either. There are so many people. And they all have ideas on how I should get married.”

  “Here’s a tip, hon—don’t ever live your life for anybody but yourself, especially not with something as significant as getting married. If you start that now, you’ll never stop. You want to swallow the great suburban dream, that’s one thing. You put it on because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do, you’re in for a world of hurting.” He rubbed his arms through his jacket. “I think I’ve had enough Iowa winter. I’m going back inside. But if you want to help me plan their wedding, holler. Who knows. You might learn a trick or two for your own.”

  She watched him go, and Randy smiled to himself, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she gave him a call.

  Chapter Six

  EMMA DID CALL Randy, the next day in fact. She began assisting him with his preparatory adventures, going so far as to take a day trip with him down to Des Moines to scout for a ceremony site.

  “Shouldn’t Sam or Mitch be along?” She braced against the dash as Randy took a corner. “God, this van sucks.”

  “You be nice to my ride. And no, they’re just going to attend the finale. This is my present to them: sorting it out. Making it special. And a surprise.”

  “Got it. So what are we looking at today?”

  “Venues. I’ve already secured the reception, plus I have several candidates for a honeymoon suite, and I have some ideas for the ceremony. But I want to see it all in person, and I want you to see it too. I know the Vegas Sam pretty well, but the Middleton edition sometimes stymies me.”

  Emma frowned. “There are different editions of Sam?”

  “Hell yes. I know the one who rode cross-country with a guy he barely knew and cavorted all over Vegas with me and his boyfriend. The one who worries about people at Walmart judging him throws me for a loop.”

  “He never really told me what he did in Vegas. I don’t know much about him meeting Mitch.”

  Randy glanced sideways at her. “Is that a request to be told?”

  She considered the question for some time before replying. “I don’t know. I mean—yes. I want to know. But I don’t want him to be upset if I hear about it, especially if the stories don’t come from him. Except I feel like ever since he came back I don’t know him. It’s weird because he had some big sex adventure, but he’s more reserved around me than he’s ever been. I don’t know what to do with that.”

  “He had a lot more than a sex adventure. He did all kinds of things. Learned things, taught other people things, me included.”

  Emma sighed. “Tell me. At least show me what your Sam looks like. Not the one who sat plastered to Mitch at my party like he was being polite to be there. Because once upon a time he would have been the one to start games and make everyone laugh.”

  “Well, to start, he’s who I used all the condoms on.” Randy waited while Emma goggled. “Still want to hear the rest?”

  “You’re making that up.” Emma kept shaking her head. “He’s with Mitch.”

  “Yep. And sometimes we do him together. Sam’s seriously kinky, and he loves an edge of exposure and shame. They do fine on their own, but Mitch is frank about how much more fun it is when he’s sharing Sam. But then, Sam’s been blowing straight guys in the bathroom since high school. You knew about that, right?”

  From her expression, she clearly didn’t. “I…I knew he was with a lot of guys, but in the bathroom? At school?”

  Randy decided not to tell her about the return of Keith Jameson into Sam’s sex life. “He had a thing, especially for the ones who would fuck him but then bait him publicly after.”

  Emma stared at the highway as if the whole world had changed color on her. “So you fuck him. With Mitch. He…watches?” She blushed scarlet. “I shouldn’t be asking you this.”

  “Why not? The worst thing that happens is this makes Sam feel shameful, which in the end will just get him hard. I guess you could judge him, which would suck, but I’m betting on that not being your game. I think you would like to blow a guy in a bathroom—if you knew it was safe. You strike me as somebody with the whole Fifty Shades trilogy in your closet.”

  This time her blush was slightly different. “No. But I like a good erotic romance. I didn’t like Fifty Shades. I thought Grey was a tool.”

  “What’s different in the romances you do like?”

  “The women can be sexy, sexual, love getting fucked, but the guys aren’t dicks. I…I love the three-way stuff. I don’t know that I want to have that. Though I’d try, maybe, with the right people. If I knew it was safe. I love the idea two guys and a girl. And—” Her blush went deep. “I like the ones best where the guys will fuck the girl and each other too.”

  Randy snorted. “Shit, honey. You should have me over and let me get you and your boyfriend drunk. We could have a party.”

  “Wait—you’re bi?”

  Emma got the same look that Sam did when he was approaching a forbidden delight, and it turned Randy the hell on. “Nope. Not even close. But that doesn’t mean I can’t drive the bus, princess. That’s my kink: head-fucking. It would be all kinds of fun, getting you and your straight-laced fiancé to cut loose with me.”

  “I…don’t think so.” She said the words, but Randy could see them taking root, and they made him smile.

  “Standing offer. You give me the come-hither, and I’ll seduce you and your boy together.”

  “He’d never go for it.”

  “I bet you—and bear in mind, I never lose a bet—he would go for it in a hot minute, if he thought you wanted it. Test it out. Next time you’re in bed, say, ‘Randy said the craziest thing to me.’ Then make it clear you love the idea. Though…he’d want your vag off-limits for penetration. Which is fine.”

  Emma touched her hair, flustered, but definitely thinking about three-ways. “So you fuck Sam?”

  “Every day I’m with him. Well, if Mitch is out of town, he gets funny about it, but I almost enjoy that more, having to wear him down.”

  “Did you fuck him today?”

  “Nope. He had to get up too early. But last night we played his favorite game: watch TV.”

  Emma laughed, a beautiful mixture of nerves and wickedness. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s watch TV?”

  “Remember that Sam’s kink is the shame and exposure. He likes being turned into an object. Which gets rough when he knows how much you love him, and vetting strangers is always tough. So we play watch TV. Diddle him while watching a show. Last night it was that he had to give one of us a blowjob while the other fingered him and slapped his butt.”

  “Does he want you telling me all this?”

  “Oh hell no. But I don’t think that’s a good thing. You’re supposed to be the best friend. You don’t have to know all the kinky deets, but him being kinky should at least be something you’re okay with.”

  “I’m totally okay with it.” She sighed. “Fuck, I’m jealous.”

  Randy grinned. “You want to hear more? Because I’ve got all kinds of stories.”

  God, she was cute when she blushed. Randy hoped to hell she let her man see this side of her. “I want to hear the rest of watch TV.”

  “That’s pretty much it. We put on something boring and talk about the show while we play with his body. Like he’s nothing more than a remote. Last night he started with Mitch’s cock, and Mitch didn’t say a word to him except to direct him. I had him spread his knees so I could really get in there, make him squirm, and every time I did, he’d wiggle, and I’d slap his butt. He loves
being spanked. Makes all kinds of great noises.”

  Emma was flushed in a very different way now. “Jesus. You shouldn’t tell me this.”

  Randy laughed. “God, you two are the same. You love it. I’d tell you to frig one out, but you’d probably self-combust from that much shame.”

  She went red as a tomato. “I’m not going to masturbate in front of you!”

  “You could, though. You’re not quite there, but you could. With your man, probably. You want to, that’s the thing—which is the same as Sam.” He tapped the steering wheel. “Maybe that’s the way to play this. Maybe we should all hang out drunk, and you make me tell you stories about him.”

  “You really are crazy, you know that?” Emma eyed him speculatively. “So are you their other boyfriend or something? Do you have a Mitch of your own?”

  “I don’t want a Mitch, and no, I’m not a boyfriend. I’m a friend you can fuck.”

  “So you’re nobody’s boyfriend?”

  “Please. Do I seem like I could be?”

  Emma looked thoughtful. “It would take somebody pretty singular.”

  Randy snorted. “It’d take a fucking miracle.”

  They rode in silence for some time after that, and when they began chatting again, they stayed on benign topics such as weather and music until they pulled into the western suburbs of the city.

  “What are you thinking for the ceremony?” Emma asked.

  “I’m down to a bed and breakfast, a wedding chapel, and…that’s it really. There are a million sites I’d love to consider outdoors, but Sam and Mitch want Valentine’s Day, and they don’t have a lot of money, and neither do I, so I’m a little boxed in. Not to mention almost everything is taken—this is the only B&B with a vacancy, and they’re holding it for me with someone on the waiting list ready to pop if I don’t. I have one Hail Mary I’m saving in case of complete failure.” He aimed the van toward an exit. “B&B first.”

  The bed and breakfast was cute enough, and the people were nice, but Randy wasn’t feeling it. He wasn’t quite sure why until Emma pointed it out.