But we’re doing OK, me and Tony. One fuck led to another and now we’re seeing each other in a committed but non-monogamous kind of way. He’s not exactly Mr Reliable but unpredictability is part of his charm. Hook-ups don’t always pan out so well and that’s why it’s best not to fuck the customers. It gets awkward if they’re still interested and you’re not, and you have to serve them beer and act like you never sucked their cock or begged for it harder. Regular dating is far more sensible.
As well as Tony, I’m seeing a guy called Stedman Snowdon. I find it hard to say his first name without his last. Stedman Snowdon. The words roll off your tongue and it’s hard to put the brakes on after Stedman. By way of a compromise, or maybe it’s laziness, I refer to him as Snowy. It suits him. He has Nordic and Chinese blood in his veins. His eyes are steel blue and sloping, his nose is tiny, and his ice-blond hair frames his face, straight as a helmet. He’d always known Tony was my main squeeze and Snowy has a serious girlfriend so we just get together for occasional fuck-buddy fun. When I told him we needed to start having less fun – i.e. my ass was now off limits – he rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, Coral. You’ve just made me want to fuck your butt even more!” He said he wished he’d known our last time was the last time, and tried to persuade me into having a final session where he could kiss my ass goodbye. He said “kiss” but he meant “fuck”.
I said no, and ever since then, Snowy’s been pushing at the new limit, trying to seduce me into reneging on my deal. And I’ve been close, so close. Having to say “no” when my body’s crying “yes” is a real test of my willpower and devotion to Tony. It’s cruel of Snowy to tease and tempt me, and that’s why he does it; he knows I like to suffer.
All the guys I fuck respond differently. Some respect my request and leave my ass in peace. Some play lightly with the rule while others push hard.
“Is this allowed?” asked one before flicking his tongue over my rim.
“He only means fucking your ass,” said another more assertively as we got frisky behind the hotdog stand at the funfair. “He won’t mind me doing this to you.” And with that, as the Ferris wheel’s gaudy lights turned in the corner of my eye, he slipped his hand down my skirt and stuck a moistened finger in my butt.
“Hey,” I said. “I think I mind that.” Because it’s not too pleasant when you’re still tight and together, and someone goes in cold.
The times I’m horny with Snowy and my body is melting are my weak points. His head is between my thighs, his mouth and my cunt feeling like a single, slippery, wet entity. He shoves his fingers inside me, works me hard, and when I’m flailing in bliss, I hardly notice a thumb sliding gently into my ass. Then I do notice, and I like it and try not to whimper for more. But he gives it to me anyway, getting off on my predicament. He bought a toy especially for me, a butt plug with a sweet, silly pony tail in lurid, fuchsia pink. On my hands and knees, I allowed him to ease the plug inside me.
“There we are,” he said. “My little pony! Don’t you look lovely? I’m sure Tony would be so proud.”
That’s when I began to wonder if Stedman Snowdon had started seeing Tony as a rival or a threat to our relationship (small “r”). I soon suspected a small war was being played out between my sheets, my ass as the battle zone, their hard cocks as weapons. Even the thought of it was enough to set my pulses thumping. But I knew Snowy wouldn’t invade by force. He wanted to make me hand over the territory of my own free will, humiliating Tony and myself while relishing his victory.
I didn’t trust my powers of resistance and began to worry about letting Tony down. Plus, I really missed having Snowy in my ass. I wasn’t sure which direction this might go in or how to fix my minor issues until one evening Tony strolled into the pub, all quiffed and shabbily cool, and my little brain went “Eureka!”
“Tony,” I said, leaning close as I slid him his regular bourbon. “If my ass is your ass and so on, and if you’ve put up a ‘no entry’ sign, does that mean you get to take it down and invite someone else in?”
He downed his drink in one and said, “Another please, Coral. And one for yourself.” I did as told. It’s my job after all, and the manager wasn’t in so I got myself a double. “What exactly are you saying here?” asked Tony.
He swirled his drink around the glass, the soft spotlights above the bar gleaming on the shark’s tooth pendant around his neck. Outside, it was a gray, grim evening. Rain trickled down the frosted windows of the pub, and the tatty, crimson interior was as cozy as it was desolate. Few people had ventured out, opting for the colors of TV over the dull, silty puddles on the streets. I can’t say I blame them. I’d have stayed home myself if I hadn”t been getting paid for it. When Tony appeared, the tattoos on his arms were like TV to me, lighting up my night.
“Tony, I mean a threesome,” I said.
“With another guy,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. It wasn’t a question, more a statement of the obvious and an expression of indifference or maybe disappointment.
“That’s right. With Stedman Snowdon.”
Tony grinned, flashing his mouth-metal. “What kind of fucking name is that?”
“Snowy,” I said.
“Oh him. Sure, if that’s what you want. I figure I could get into it.” He tapped a beer mat on the counter, turning it in his hand. “So, what kind of scenario do you have in mind, Coral?”
I sketched out a few ideas, having to break off at one point to serve a couple of women who had yoga mats strapped to their backpacks. They clinked their glasses together, chimed, “Om shanti” then hooted with laughter.
Tony listened closely to my ideas. “Coral,” he said. “I am so fucking hard right now I can’t stand up. Another bourbon, please, and one for yourself.”
Snowy was keen. I knew he would be. Sexually, his range is as broad as his chest and he likes to experiment whereas Tony’s a pervert in a very specific way. When Snowy tops me it’s partly because he knows I like it, while Tony tops me as if he has no choice; as if he’s driven solely by a desire to get something out of his system, and I don’t mean a sacful of jizz. I was hoping their different motivations would prove a good combination, free of egos bumping up against each other.
We arranged an evening at my place. Tony turned up late with a bottle of Jim Beam wrapped in green tissue paper and a cigarette tucked behind his ear. Snowy was in the bedroom, shoes and socks off at the ready. Fairy lights looped around the head of my bed pricked the dimness with spots of color and, when I returned to the room, Snowy seemed suddenly incongruous, a Scandinavian prince in a crack whore’s boudoir. He stood to greet Tony and the two men clasped hands, shaking warmly.
“So,” said Tony, “you want to fuck her in the ass?”
“Yup, just like I used to,” replied Snowy.
Weirdly, one plus one seemed to equal much more than two. My poky apartment felt packed with men, and when Tony went to hang his jacket on the back of my chair as per usual, he couldn’t because Snowy’s jacket was there. So he hooked the jacket on the corner of the kitchen door when he went fetch glasses, spreading masculinity across my home.
We stood by the bed and drank a toast: “To Coral’s ass!” Clink. “And to Tony’s ownership of it!”
We knocked back our drinks, then Tony, always quick to get in role, wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled tight at the nape of my neck. He smelled of whiskey and weed. He made my cunt ache. Snowy stepped in front of me, scooping his hand between my thighs.
“Why are we here, Coral?” asked Tony.
I hate it when he makes me say it. “So Snowy can fuck my ass,” I said, wincing in embarrassment.
“Who owns your ass?”
“You do,” I whispered. “My ass is your ass.”
“That’s right,” said Tony. “So I get to decide who goes in there. I decide who makes you scream. But your friend here, he seems a nice guy, so I’m going to lend you out to him. Once I’ve prepared you, that is.”
Snowy lifted my skirt and stroked me t
hrough the cotton of my underwear, making me moan.
“You like that?” asked Tony.
Snowy chuckled and slipped his fingers past my frillies, rubbing my smooth folds. Tony tipped my head back onto his shoulder, caressing my breasts through my clothes, while Snowy shoved his fingers high and hard, latching onto my sweet spot immediately. He pounded me there, making my cries rise as pleasure swelled inside me then spilled like a waterfall.
“She’s wet already,” said Snowy. “Seriously wet.”
Tony murmured words of approval in my ear. “My dirty little whore.”
Being sandwiched between them was glorious. With Tony behind me, all sleazy and mean, and Snowy before me, all crisp and cool, I was locked in an embrace of lust. We were co-conspirators, hell-bent on making nasty magic, and I was seeing stars, my legs soon becoming too weak for me to stand. Tony, ever attentive, lowered me to my knees and Snowy moved with me, his fingers still rubbing.
Tony unbuckled and when his cock sprang out I reached for him with my mouth, clasping his skinny hips to steady myself. I closed my eyes and started off the way he likes it, slow and wet with lots of focus on his end. Snowy moved and when I opened my eyes, his cock was there too, angling for my assistance. In the colored half-light of my room, his pale pubes were a tangle of filaments and fireflies, tinted with a hint of pink.
I sloshed my tongue around Snowy’s tip. “That’s it, good girl,” cooed Tony, watching me. “Show us what you’re made of.”
Snowy gripped me either side of my head, drawing me on to his length. He was too fast. I tapped his thigh and, recognizing the signal, he released me. Again, I licked and sucked, taking him deeper until I was ready to open my throat to him. I dipped down, tilting my head back, and steadied my breathing. When I felt him at the back of my mouth, I went with the flow, relaxing my throat and welcoming the heft of him lodged deep and tight. He groaned loudly, and I knew I’d got him. When I pulled back, my saliva was slippery and easy, and my eyes were fogged with tears. I wanted to feel him again so went back for another hit, riding the wave of tranquility that rises when I’m deep-throating.
“Such a greedy little cocksucker,” said Tony.
“Man, that feels good,” breathed Snowy. “Oh, man.”
“I gave her a choice,” said Tony. “Told her she had to save one thing for me, ass or deep-throating. I let her choose. I’m good like that, the generous sort. She made the right choice?”
I moved from Snowy’s cock to Tony’s.
“I miss her ass,” said Snowy. “But that mouth is something else. So yeah, good call, Coral.”
Tony gripped my head and drove himself at my throat, making me gag and splutter. “You hear that?” he snarled. “Everyone wants to fuck your mouth.” He went in deep and stayed there. I almost tapped his thigh. “Take it,” he warned. “Take it.”
Tears spilled down my face and, when he freed me, I was breathless, messy and stunned. He slapped me hard across one cheek. I love it when Tony does that. I started to slip into that zone where I feel slutty and used, where the pull to surrender grows increasingly strong.
“Get undressed, Coral,” said Tony. He pulled his skull T-shirt over his head and we all undressed, momentarily awkward as we put horniness on hold and dealt with the prosaic. I felt I didn’t have enough hands and eyes. Two men in such close proximity induced sensory overload. Their differing bodies complemented each other perfectly. Snowy’s straight platinum-blond hair was at the opposite end of the spectrum to Tony’s jet-black quiff. Where Tony was wiry, inked and thickly haired, Snowy was softly muscled, clean-skinned and scattered with gold. They might have been good and evil personified, except I knew they were both bad, and so was I.
“You want to hold her while I fuck her?” suggested Tony.
Snowy responded swiftly, hooking his arms under mine and positioning me so I was half on the bed, half off, propped against his big, sturdy chest. “That good?” he asked Tony.
Tony rubbered up, grabbed my thigh and pushed back so I was wide open to him. “Perfect.”
I protested and wriggled, acting as if I didn’t want it. The two men held me tighter, exactly as I’d hoped.
“No,” I whimpered.
“Oh yes,” said Tony, concentrating on his angle. With a groan, he sank into me and delivered a series of slow, teasing thrusts. I knew he was trying to make me beg for it and before long, I was doing. “More, Tony. Harder, please.”
He held back, getting off on hearing me plead. Snowy cupped my breast, one hand kneading me, the other scooting over my stomach. “Please,” I gasped.
“Like this?” sneered Tony. He started ramming into me, fast and furious. I squeezed my eyes shut. In my mind, colors bloomed and coalesced into a shifting mosaic of honey-yellows and brown. Every jolt took me higher, pressure swelling in my cunt. Snowy made a V with his fingers around my clit, rubbing steadily as Tony fucked.
“That’s right,” said Tony. “Make her come. Get her nice and relaxed so we can fuck that little ass.”
Seconds later, I was coming hard, waves of bliss clutching over and over. The muddy mosaic dissolved into slow fireworks, sparks of brightness streaming and swirling. Images surfaced from nowhere and I saw, with hallucinogenic clarity, a red-jacketed fox hunter, a vivid blue birdcage, a kumquat whose color, on the cusp of gold and orange, was briefly, brilliantly ethereal and precious. I wanted to catch its dimpled skin but couldn’t. It had gone.
And I swear I wasn’t stoned. Sometimes I just see things.
“Good girl,” said Tony as my cries faded.
Without prompting, Snowy released me as Tony withdrew. “On the bed,” said Tony, chivying me along with a slap on the butt. “Hands and knees, that’s right.”
I leaned forwards on my arms, post-orgasmically weak. Tony’s lubed up fingers slid easily into my asshole. He drove in with a twisting motion, back and forth, knuckles bumping at my opening. He was eager and I was ready to yield. But even so, when his cock pressed at my rim, I wailed at the invasion. My body resisted him. He pressed harder. I wailed louder.
“Stick your dick in her mouth,” urged Tony. “It’ll help with the pain.”
Snowy was there like a shot. I gasped around his length, barely able to suck him as Tony persisted. Then, with a flash of heat, Tony was inside me, just an inch or so of cock. He moved slowly, letting me get used to him. My ass was crammed with his hard flesh, my muscles gripping, my cries fluttering around Snowy’s thick shaft. Tony held my hips, giving a long groan of satisfaction as he glided in deeper. “There we go,” he breathed when he was entirely inside me.
He paused before starting to slide in and out, my ass becoming wider and easier the more he fucked me.
“How does she feel?” asked Snowy.
“Tight,” replied Tony. “But I’m opening her up for you, making her good and ready. I don’t want the bitch complaining.”
He kept at me, adding more lube to keep me moist. When he pulled out, I was slippery and greedy for more. “Your turn, bro,” said Tony.
“You sure?” asked Snowy.
“Go right ahead. Stick it in there. Take whatever you want.”
As Snowy moved behind me and fumbled with a rubber, Tony flung himself alongside me, his mouth by my ear. “Whose ass is it?” he asked.
“Yours,” I panted, locking on to his soft, brown eyes.
Snowy began to penetrate me, filling me up fast.
“Who’s fucking it?”
“Snowy. Snowy is.”
“Why?” asked Tony.
“Because . . . because you said he could.”
“Nope,” said Tony. “It’s because you’re a dirty little cockslut, a whore who can’t get enough. I could pass you round my friends, let them all have a go at you, and you’d still be desperate for more dick. Wouldn’t you, huh?”
Clearly, it was a rhetorical question because Tony scrambled to sit in front of me, his legs spread, knees to the ceiling. He lowered my head onto his cock. I slurped up and down as Sn
owy hammered me toward ecstasy, the two men’s groans making filthy music with my own. When I opened my eyes, the roaring panther tattoo on Tony’s stomach, purplish in the hue of my fairy lights, jumped before me. When I closed my eyes, a crimson sun haloed with blue radiance burned in my mind. I reached back for my clit, rocking and rolling until I was at my peak.
“She’s going to come,” wheezed Snowy. “And so am I, so . . .”
I was first, my orgasm wringing me out as the crimson sun became a ruby sky swimming with shoals of blue stars. Snowy groaned intermittently, a sound close to pain, then he shuddered inside me and roared as if he too were seeing stars. Tony outlasted us by a few more minutes. He made me lie on my back then straddled my exhausted body, jerking off by my lips. When he came, I drank, and he tasted like the essence of sex: dark, bitter and secretive.
“Jeez.”
“Wow.”
“Oh man.”
The three of us lay across the bed, breathless and sticky with sweat. I swear, the fairy lights were glowing more vividly than before, casting patches of color on our damp, gleaming skin: yellow, green, red and blue. We are Tokyo in the rain at night, I thought. Tokyo made flesh.
Tony sighed contentedly. “I’ve got a great ass,” he said, and the three of us laughed until it hurt because it sounded strange and stupid, yet in our bubble of intimacy, the statement made sense. And though I didn’t say anything, I thought they’d understand if I told them there were galaxies behind my eyes and rainbows beneath my skin.
Appointment Tee Vee
Victoria Janssen
Tuesday nights are their television nights. When they meet, Sven hasn’t seen Martha’s favorite show, on the air for only three episodes. Martha is already in love with the tweedy mentor character, Knightley. She and Sven fuck for the first time after Knightley’s big episode, number nine, in which his risqué youth is revealed due to a magic spell and she gets to see Knightley onscreen in a skintight T-shirt.
The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 12: Over 40 outstanding pieces of short erotic fiction (Mammoth Books) Page 53