by Mia Moon
So, Bree, can you tell us how we should ask our perfect angel to share herself with us and to let us share her?
I sat back from the table and rubbed my eyes. There was no doubt who’d written the question. My sweet, sweet guys. They had no clue why I’d run.
I’d had to. At first, it was the fear. Then it was the newfound courage I’d gained from my twice-weekly counseling sessions. It helped that I’d gone in determined. I wanted to fix these issues the first time. Once and right away. I was done letting anxiety and depression rule my life. I didn’t want to hit thirty and find myself still trapped in the same sinking ship.
My therapist told me it would take time. But she worked hard with me at every session. Gave me challenges that I plowed through. Pushing myself farther and farther out of my comfort zone in tiny steps every day. It would be a while before I’d feel normal—if I ever felt normal. But normal didn’t matter as much to me anymore as mere progress did. Little steps still meant I was moving forward.
My oatmeal had grown cold and thick in the bowl. My orange juice was forgotten.
I swallowed hard.
I could do this. I was too good at running away from everything. I wanted to learn how to chase what I wanted instead.
With shaking hands, I grabbed my phone. I’d finally had the courage to read through the messages from the guys. They’d all been sweet and laced with understanding. But they were sad—they missed me.
I missed them, too.
There had been no future for us when I’d hidden my issues away. Now there was no future for us if I didn’t push forward. Sure, they’d offered to meet me where I was. But what about six months down the road? I didn’t want to be stuck seeing them only within the square mile around us. I wanted to go on vacations with them. Take long rides for the hell of it. Walk through the lit city streets at night, enjoying their company under the stars.
There was only one way to make that happen.
I tapped out a quick group text, holding my breath while my fingers moved over the keys. I steadied myself in anticipation of their responses, but they didn’t keep me waiting.
I grinned and threw my phone to the side, rushing to get ready for the next step in my new life.
I paced in circles at the base of the Gateway Arch. The nerves coiling in my belly had nothing to do with being so far outside my safe zone. It came from the sweet messages I’d gotten back. I waited with eager anticipation for the looks on their faces when they saw me standing there. Really there. Not in my home or one of theirs. Out. In public. In real clothes, even!
When I turned to make another round with my antsy feet, my heart caught. There they were, smiles glowing, eyes wide, pride radiating from each of them as they hurried in my direction.
Eric was the first to reach me, grabbing me up in a hug and spinning me around until my head swam.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he murmured into my hair, “but if I don’t, they’ll kick my ass. At least I got here first this time. I’m faster than they are.” He was a bundle of winks and smiles when he let me slide down the hard planes of his body to touch my feet back to the ground. There was no missing the thick bulge that every part of my body connected with, and it ignited my ache for him. To have him fill me so sweetly, as he’d done that night we spent together. Tongue, fingers, cock invading my body with shy, but mind-blowing, strokes.
“Hey,” Andrew breathed, tucking his face into my neck and filling his lungs with my scent. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t cuff you to the bed just so I can guarantee some uninterrupted time with you,” he teased. He clutched my lower back, pinning me to him, all hardness and light.
“My turn,” Jonathan said, closing in behind me and spinning me into his arms. His hands cupped my shoulders as he gazed deep into my eyes. “You’re…better…” he whispered.
I stepped into his hold, curling myself into his chest. His steady breathing and pounding heart served as my anchor. “I’m getting help,” I said, tilting my head back to look up at him. “Thanks to you. All of you,” I added, glancing at the others to include them.
And then I lifted on tiptoes to brand Jonathan with my kiss. I opened to him but didn’t linger. I had a mission—they needed to know I was serious.
I turned back to Andrew and delivered a kiss to him, too, before doing the same to Eric.
After those kisses, I thought they would get it. But they still stood there, staring at me like I wasn’t real. Like I hadn’t given them an answer.
“I hear there’s going to be an extra-special Saturday column,” I said, linking one arm with Andrew’s and the other with Eric’s. I tilted my head, including Jonathan. “I’ve only got two arms,” I said. “We’ll have to figure this sharing thing out.”
“Extra-special column, huh?” Eric repeated, squeezing closer to me.
“Yeah. It’ll be your favorite,” I said, all tease. “One you can finally agree on.”
“This is your idea of our perfect first date?” I asked side-eyeing Eric whose grin couldn’t have been bigger.
The fire station stood before us. Its manicured lawn was dotted with uplighting, casting a glow over the building’s façade.
“Nah, this is only the warm-up,” he said, bouncing on his toes with all that adventurous energy.
I’d toured the station back in middle school. They’d even taken us upstairs to show where everyone worked and slept. It was smaller than I remembered, and it had definitely seen renovations since that time.
“Come on, let’s go. I’ve got fantasies to fulfill,” Eric added, dragging me ahead.
“Ahh, is that what this is about?” I peeked over my shoulder.
Jonathan shrugged. “You’re the one who let him pick.”
“I did no such thing,” I retorted. “Rock-paper-scissors picked. You guys just didn’t win.”
Andrew laughed. “That’s because they know I always play scissors.” He wiggled his fingers in the air, reminding me of the naughty way he’d stretched my pussy wide with those strong digits.
“Where is everyone?” I asked. The bunk area seemed quieter than it should be.
“Might’ve used our pull around here to get some private time,” Eric said, sheepish glee rolling over his face.
“Might’ve sold me out by promising fresh muffins for a month,” Jonathan grumbled.
But none of them looked too upset about the arrangement as Andrew closed and locked both doors that led into the room.
Seeing them there, all t-shirts, jeans, muscles, and heat, was enough to ratchet my excitement up. The brush of my clothes had me crawling out of my skin with need. Did they know how perfectly overwhelming they all were when they were lumped together in the same small space?
I didn’t get much time to consider it before Jonathan circled his arms around me, giving me an affectionate squeeze.
I leaned up to meet his kiss. It was slow, tempting, and sweet.
Andrew curled in from behind, breath warming me as he traced his fingertips fondly over the back of my neck. “Where’s mine?” he asked, leaning around my shoulder and tilting my chin with his fingertips to capture my lips.
There was something so right about nestling between the two of them. Their warm bodies, their hard chests and broad shoulders—I felt caged in. Protected and cherished. The rough material of their jeans rubbed against me, promising the friction and contact to come.
I looped my arms around Jonathan’s neck and tilted my head back, letting him sweep kisses over my throat. He stooped to reach more of me, hands going straight to my pants and undoing my fly. Andrew took over from behind, dipping his hands into my panties to stroke my entrance before delivering a series of soft pinches to my clit. Each time he released the blazing nub, it filled with more blood, making it more sensitive than before. I moaned and pressed into him, parting my legs so he could slide his fingers deeper.
“Good girl,” he purred against my ear.
Jonathan dragged my pants and panties down. His fingers joined An
drew’s, and they both stroked me together. The jumble of so many fingers caused me to shake and sway on my feet, supported only by their bodies around mine.
I was so wet, my moisture slicked their fingers. They moved in harmony, though not in unison, trailing into my lips. Parting me. Stretching me wide. Andrew drove his fingers deeper, thrashing around within me, torturing me before pulling back to leave only Jonathan’s hands.
Andrew’s fingers delved between my ass cheeks, splaying them to access my second hole. He trailed his tongue over the tight skin, zoning the tip in on that puckered ring with hot pressure. I gasped, falling against Jonathan. He supported me, pushing his hips against mine, which shoved my ass back into Andrew’s hands. My head was spinning, and all I knew was I didn’t want them to stop. I wanted to bask in their warm, solid strength and the passion they ignited under my skin.
My lids fluttered on my next moan, and I spotted Eric, standing to the side, rubbing the bulge of his cock through his jeans. Eyes on me, though his head tipped back in ecstasy. Watching in that hot, secret way I’d fantasized about.
Jonathan tugged on the band of his pants with one hand, pulling them down until I could see the swell of his head. I grabbed hold of his jeans, freeing his fly and shoving them down his hips.
His cock jumped to attention, standing straight up for me.
I wanted it, but I couldn’t even get out the words. Instead, I moaned and begged him with my eyes as I slid to my knees.
“Oh, fuck, Bree,” he whispered, curling a hand in my hair, eyes wide as he watched me lick my lips.
My movements pulled me away from Andrew, but—undeterred—he moved with me.
We were close enough to one of the bunks that Jonathan settled onto the mattress and stretched back so it was easier for me to get to him. He presented that proud cock to me like the gift it was while I crawled up his legs, making myself comfortable.
I sealed my mouth over the head of his cock and traced my tongue down over the ridge, teasing across his slit. I hollowed my cheeks around him and circled one hand at his base to hold him steady.
Andrew took hold of my ass, squeezing me. Spreading my cheeks farther apart. He teased his cock down through my slippery folds, sliding the tip back and forth to gather my wetness.
I heard the sound of foil packets tearing. Eric doling out partially-opened condom packages—Jonathan and Andrew eagerly accepted.
Andrew's fingers grazed over my ass as he sheathed himself. He dragged his throbbing cock over my pussy, again and again, teasing me though I knew his focus was elsewhere. He eased upward, rubbing between my ass cheeks and settling his tip against my tight ass.
“Please!” I cried, knowing he loved that.
“Fuck,” he hissed as he pressed against me.
Pressure built in the tight hole of my ass. My muscles gave way to him in fractions of inches. Fiery sensations tore through me, delivering dark, exquisite need to the hole no man had ever explored in this way.
“Good girl,” he praised, stroking my hips. “That’s right, Bree. You’re perfect. This is so right…” His voice trailed off as he pushed past the final ring of defense within my body, hips going flush with my ass cheeks.
I tightened around him, crying out with the foreign pleasures filling that deep space. I moaned with the thickness of Jonathan’s cock pressing into my tongue. I edged my hips back, pushing against Andrew, begging him to move.
Andrew obliged, moving in time with the bob of my head as I worshipped Jonathan’s dick with my mouth. I thrashed my tongue over the length, running my hand over the base. He lifted his hands to clutch at me. Between their joined holds on my body, I was supported, so my hands were free. I trailed down, stroking behind Jonathan’s balls, applying pressure to that special place I knew would make him gasp.
I could thank my column for that—I’d never know that little trick, and this was my first chance to try it. It worked better than I expected. His hips bucked and rolled, angling the head of his dick deeper, until it hit the back of my throat.
I moaned in approval. I liked the way his cock stretched my throat. I loved feeling so full.
I was acutely aware when Eric knelt beside me, smacking Andrew’s thigh like they’d done this all before. Andrew took whatever message Eric delivered, pulling out slowly.
I whimpered, devouring Jonathan’s response when my throat vibrated around his cock.
“Shhh,” Eric said, stroking my back and sending through my entire body. “We’re just changing it up. We’ve got all the time in the world, baby.”
He took over where Andrew had been, tipping my hips higher than before. Instead of going for my ass, though, he pressed his sheathed cock against my entrance. He was rock hard as he pushed his hips forward. He didn’t have to hold back because my core was slick for him. My whole body was alight, everything heightened. I felt every inch slide in until he bottomed out on a low groan.
I could barely take it—that feral sound was too exquisite. I focused on sucking Jonathan’s cock, trying to hold off my impending orgasm and never wanting this encounter to end.
Jonathan covered the back of my head with a gentle hand, but there was nothing gentle about the way he moved, fucking my mouth like it was my pussy, aching for him. I kept my cheeks hollowed, but handed over my control, letting him do what he wanted. He drove that throbbing cock as deep into my throat as he could. I moaned around him, overwhelmed by the perfect, dirty hotness of the whole fucking thing.
Jonathan was close. Eric throbbed deep inside me. One of Andrew’s hands rested on that spot he loved on my lower back. The tips of his clipped nails dragged over my skin before diving between my thighs. He pinched those sinful fingers around my clit once—twice—three times. And that was it.
I came harder than I’d ever come before—as if I were being snapped into three pieces with the force of my orgasm. My long, low moan did Jonathan in, too, and his last thrust filled my mouth and throat. I swallowed down every bit of what he pumped into me, polishing him clean.
“Shit, yes. Bree. That dirty little tongue,” he moaned.
Eric gripped my hips, digging his fingers in, every thrust harder and faster. I glanced at him over my shoulder, still licking Jonathan’s come from my lips. Eric groaned, shoulders arching as he stilled within me, filling the condom in jerks and spasms so sharp they battered my insides.
I couldn’t hold myself up. When Jonathan shifted his hold, I collapsed against his chest, taking Eric with me.
I laughed and pushed my hand through my hair, dragging it out of my face. “Sorry,” I said, moving to extract myself from between them.
Andrew stood, cock still in hand, muscles strained. He hadn’t come yet—this three-guy thing was going to take some getting used to!
I spread my legs, begging for him any way he wanted.
“Give me that ass, again, Bree,” he said, hooking one of my knees to angle me up so he could sink back between my ass cheeks. It was even better than the first time he'd done it—my muscles were relaxed and ready.
I moaned and arched up to meet him, rocking against the thumb he swirled over my clit. Gentle circles this time—not the agonizing pinches he’d delivered before.
He rocked into my ass again and again, that deep massage freeing me in ways I’d never anticipated.
“Goddamn, you're perfect,” he ground out between hisses and moans with each thrust.
Another orgasm buzzed inside me, threatening to pull me under.
“Yes! Fuck! Pleeeeeeeease!” I let the last word tumble from my lips until my breath abandoned me.
Andrew jerked within me, roaring with pleasure at those needy words I offered. His orgasm rippled through his whole body, rocking the planes of his abs.
He eased out of my body, holding me close while I came down. Tugging me to him. Sandwiched between the three of them. Fantasies fulfilled. And this was only the beginning.
“I could use that dinner we skipped now,” Jonathan said, rubbing a hand over his stomach li
ke he was starving.
“I could use another round,” Eric said, leaning up to flash me a smile. “We should play rock-paper-scissors again. I bet I’ll win—I should go for a record.”
“No need,” I said, curling tighter within the protective wall of heat and love that surrounded me. “I’m pretty sure I already won for good.”
Epilogue
“Hi, Bree!” A 40-something woman came right up to me, though her smile was shy. “Is it…” she cleared her throat and glanced around before leaning in closer. “Is it true that genital massage can lead to better orgasms for women?”
I smiled. This kind of thing happened to me at least once a day now. My articles promoting sexual openness and exploration had made me something of a local expert. Being more involved in the community in the past twelve months made me feel like some sort of celebrity sex goddess.
Yep! I’d written the column secretly accepting my guys a whole year earlier. Well, not so secret. Birdie knew and loved trying to pry juicy details out of me. Everyone who worked at the station with the guys knew—they were some of the top fans of my column. My parents still thought the guys were my best friends. My mom kept asking when I was going to pick one of them to nail down.
If only she knew the truth! But, after much discussion, we’d all decided that was an okay boundary to keep up for a while longer — at least until we moved in together, which we figured would happen later this year.
We’d started to look at houses big enough for the four of us, but we hadn’t yet found one with an adequate kitchen for the guys.
I had my feet under me more than I had since the tornado that had set my PTSD in motion, but it wasn’t necessary to go hunting for trouble. It was bad enough, in my parents’ eyes, that I was still writing that "filthy" column.
That “filthy” column had grown in popularity with warp speed. Almost all my emails from Terry the Editor now glowed with praise—except when I pushed too close to a deadline, of course. I couldn’t complain about that. I also couldn’t complain about the vast amount of time I got to experiment and refine my answers for my readers.