“You taste like me,” she whispered, brushing her fingers along my lips. “Make me taste like you, too?”
I looked up surprised, maybe where I shouldn’t have been. That old conversation shot back into my head. She liked to be fucked raw and hard and honest.
I peeled her out of her dress, pulled her to the side of her bed, where I could feed her my cock. She lay on her back, suckled it upside down like a lifeline, like a woman, like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Still glowing from her orgasm, every movement was slow, soft, like a kitten after her nap. From time to time, her hip bucked up in unconscious imitation of her lips around my cock. I squeezed her nipples, hard. And each time her moan sent the shock of vibration through her mouth, I had to close my eyes to stop me from drowning in her vertigo.
I started fucking her mouth when her moans became louder, needier, when she started to seem distracted. Her toes curled inward each time I pushed against her throat, each time she drew a ragged breath. Her hand clenched around my thigh as she choked, but she didn’t push me away. That’s when I knew. Long before her other hand moved between her legs, before I came on her face and she beamed at me upside down. That’s when I knew we understood each other. That no time had passed in five long years, and we were just beginning.
I wanted to write a lifetime of songs about that smile alone.
TRIPLE THREAT
Rachel Kramer Bussel
I used to think I knew everything in my twenties. Now, in my early forties, I can laugh at my younger self, who’d race from bar to bar, bed to bed, living utterly in the moment. I rarely stopped to think what would happen after last call, after the sun came up, or whether all those late nights and flings would catch up with me.
Then I fell for Luke, with his big brain, big body, big dick and the most self-confidence I have ever seen in anyone. He would walk into a room—any room—and be sure that everyone would want to talk to him, if only he gave them the chance, which he did, most nights. He would close out bars, with men and women alike buying him drinks, eager to soak up a few moments of his brain power, of those pale-blue eyes and soft as silk hair—well, maybe that was me. I couldn’t get enough of that rumbly voice, and the way everything he said made me look at the world around me in new ways. He made me swoon before he even kissed me, so you can only imagine what he was like in bed.
The only problem? His wife, Yvette, who, despite their open relationship, was with him almost all the time. Often, she hung out in the back of the bar, either flirting on her own or keeping a subtle but firm eye on him. She knew he was the type who couldn’t be pinned down, and their open relationship went both ways. They had been together since college and were in their mid-thirties, while I had just turned twenty-two. For a while there, I tried as hard as I could to simply be in the moment, to savor the way his skin felt against mine, the way his fingers or tongue or cock felt as they slammed inside of me, the way he could get me to do almost anything just by asking. I’d strip off my panties in a hotel elevator and let him tie my hands behind my back; I would follow him down dark alleys; once I even gave another guy a blow job while Luke watched. Yes, the guy was hot, but what made my whole body tingle wasn’t the man’s dick growing bigger in my mouth or his voice growing louder in my ear, it was Luke’s eyes glued to what I was doing, the way Luke spoke to me, ordering me to pull down my dress, take out my breasts and let the man come all over me. Call me crazy, but it felt like Luke was coming on me too—and yes, Luke did later that night.
When I was with him, nothing else existed in the world, but I was too young and needy to share him. After six months, I told him I had to go cold turkey. I was starting to obsess just a little too much about what he did with Yvette, about why he even wanted me when he could have her. She would smile at me when we ran into each other, try to make small talk, compliment my shoes, but I’d just want to cry.
Cut to the present. I’m a divorced single mom of an adorable five-year-old daughter. I want for little, having made a killing in the stock market. I have a cordial relationship with my ex-husband, friendly enough that I can call him at the last minute and see if he’ll watch Tara. I date, but haven’t met anyone in the last three years who really did it for me—to be honest, I haven’t met anyone in the last twenty who made me feel anything like Luke.
I had been happy to read that he’d moved to Europe, but now he and Yvette were back in our town, which was big enough that I wouldn’t see them every day, but was bound to run into them once in a while. I’d figured after Europe they’d move to New York or San Francisco, somewhere cosmopolitan, where they could get their freak on amongst others who shared their kinks. I had heard enough through the grapevine to know that they were into sex parties, swing clubs, kink—with each other and new partners. What was their secret? How had they stayed together so long? Was the fact that they weren’t wedded to monogamy the secret to their success? And, more importantly, was I ready to open myself up to something new?
In my heart of hearts, I couldn’t deny it—I still wanted Luke, with every fiber of my being. All I had to do was think about his face, his kiss, and my heart would start pounding and my entire body would get hot. Usually tears would rush to my eyes. No matter what else had happened in the intervening years, he was a part of me. But was I a part of him too? How can you know those things when you haven’t spoken to someone in so long? There was a time when it was like we were psychically connected; I would have a dream about him, and he would call. He’d slip away from Yvette and text me something filthy, which usually made me stop whatever I was doing and respond. Even after I got married, there were moments, before I cut him off altogether, where just the sight of his name was enough to make my world stop.
I knew once I had Tara though that something had to change; I couldn’t sit around pining for someone I couldn’t have, who was already as intimately intertwined with another person as you could get. Where would there ever be room for me? Yet now, maybe there could be. I decided to wait and see what the world had in store for us.
I ran into Yvette at the most mundane location imaginable— not while I was wearing fishnets and heels and showing off my best body part, my cleavage, or even sipping a coffee, smudging my blazing red lipstick against the mug, but at the grocery store, in sweats and a threadbare T-shirt. I had left Tara with a sitter since I’d had to run a few other errands beforehand. Yvette wasn’t dressed up either, but somehow her pale-gray off-the-shoulder top, revealing her sleek, tan shoulder, and yoga pants and sneakers looked casual chic on her.
Yvette was the one who noticed me first. She reached up to tap me on the shoulder. “Brandy?” Her voice wasn’t wary or shy or nervous, simply inquisitive.
I smiled back—or half smiled, really. “Hey, I heard you guys were back in town.”
“We are. Luke’s just on the other side picking up some ice cream.”
“Oh,” I said, unable to even feign eloquence. Luke, the man whose image kept me up at night, who even now could make my pussy throb when I let down my guard, was here, in this store? And his wife, perfect goddess that I had always pictured her to be, was talking to me as if this were any other chance encounter between neighbors?
“Look, Brandy, I just want you to know…” I held my breath. What could she possibly want me to know? “I get it— you and Luke. I get that you have this connection that’s all yours. Yes, he still thinks about you—he says your name in his sleep sometimes. You are part of the reason he wanted to come back. He hates that things got so messy and muddled. I love him—always have, always will. I want him to be happy and, well, I just wanted to tell you that I’m not your enemy. Maybe I could even be your friend. The three of us together—whatever form that takes—we could be a triple threat.”
Then she walked away, leaving me standing in front of rows of olives with my jaw hanging open, which is exactly how Luke found me. “Hey,” he said. Then he just stood and looked at me until I shivered. I thought of the dress I had worn on our first date, the way h
is hands had felt wrapped around my waist when he lifted me in the air.
“Hey,” I said.
“How’ve you been?”
“Okay.” I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, not when I had so little air left. He still had the ability to do that to me. “Yvette said hi too.”
“She has nothing but good things to say about you, in case you’re wondering. In fact, all those years ago she wanted to get in your pants. If anyone was jealous, it was her.”
“Yvette?” I laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Anyway, that was such a long time ago.”
“But you still feel it, don’t you, Brandy?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. I don’t want to talk about it in the middle of the grocery store though.”
“Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere.” Thank god he didn’t say “just to talk.”
“Invite Yvette.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s been twenty years; if I can’t talk to her by now, I’m really in trouble. I just have to call my sitter.”
“I heard you had a kid…congratulations.” I didn’t ask about the wistful look on his face.
“Thanks, she’s great. You talk to Yvette and I’ll make my call.”
We reconvened a few minutes later outside the store, our hands empty. I had considered a bottle of wine but liquid courage was what I’d used all those years ago to blot out my jealousy.
“This is a crazy idea, but what if we pretend this our first date?” I blurted out. I knew they’d had threesomes aplenty, and so had I, but it was our first time trying something new, older and wiser and more sexually experienced. Much as I had battled with envy, I’d craved what the two of them shared, finding my mind wondering how Luke kissed Yvette, how he fucked her, how he made her come. Always on the heels of those thoughts my selfishness had rushed in, but standing there with the two of them, with nothing to lose after I’d already lost him once, I let the envy pass right by me. In its place was something stronger, headier.
“I’m game,” Yvette said quietly, moving forward to kiss me on the cheek. Her lips barely grazed my skin, whisper soft, a hint of something floral, sweet and spicy hitting my nose. My eyes met Luke’s over her head. He didn’t smile or nod, just stared at me, rock steady. All those years of misspent lust melted away as I pulled her closer. She was small but as my hand pressed against her spine, a core of strength radiated outward.
Luke stepped forward to kiss the side of my neck, the one spot that had always driven me mad back in the day. When Yvette shifted around and kissed the other side of my neck in the corresponding spot, my pussy tightened. Triple threat indeed.
“Your place or ours?” Luke whispered. I laughed at the absurdity of it as Yvette nuzzled up against me. What was it about turning forty that had turned my head so completely around that the woman I had sworn was my enemy was now making me wet? How could it be that the man whose wedding ring she wore was about to fuck both of us and I was giddy with anticipation? Could we have had this all along and I was just too stubborn to entertain the idea?
No matter now. “Yours,” I boldly decided. If I got cold feet, I could always leave.
“Yvette will drive.” Some things hadn’t changed—Luke was as commanding as ever. “You’ll join me in the backseat.” I know some women might have bristled at an ex waltzing in and telling them what to do after all that time, but me? I welcomed it. I had been the one telling someone what to do seemingly twenty-four-seven for the last five years; I was ready to do anything he asked.
“How far away do you live?”
“Far enough,” he said as he guided me into the backseat. “Show Yvette how pretty those breasts are,” he said. “They’re going to be in her mouth soon.” Other guys over the years had tried to talk dirty to me, but they’d always come up short, stumbling over their words, giggling, or simply not owning them properly. Luke owned everything about what was about to happen—all he had needed was my okay.
I unbuttoned my blouse and peeled down the sheer black mesh, grateful my breasts were still firm, still my favorite body part. “Angle your legs so she can see you,” Luke said, and immediately, my knees fell open. This was what it had felt like twenty years ago—daring, reckless, a little crazy and blazingly hot. But this time, there was no sneaking around, no hiding, no guilt. Luke was mine, but he was also Yvette’s, and I belonged, right now, to both of them.
As Yvette started the car, Luke hiked up my jean skirt enough to give her a view without showing every bit of me to anyone who might pass by. He pulled aside my panties to show off my wetness. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, holding the seat tight as he pinched my clit. “That’s your punishment—the start of it, anyway—for disappearing, Brandy. It killed me to know you wanted nothing to do with me.” His words wafted over me as the pain shot from my clit and radiated outward, heating up my core. “You didn’t even let me know you were okay after Tara; I had to ask around about you. But I knew you couldn’t have changed too much; you’ll always be my slut, won’t you? I told Yvette that too, told her all about how dirty you are.” His fingers were inside me, stretching me, making me clench hard around him. I had dreamed of him taking me like this, in countless positions and scenarios, ones where my whole body was full of him.
“Pull over,” I heard as his fingers withdrew. The car immediately turned; I opened my eyes to see we were in an empty parking lot. Yvette stopped the car, took off her seat belt and turned around. Luke planted his fingers in front of her. Instead of diving for them as I would have, she locked eyes on me and slowly stretched out her tongue like a cat, licking my cream from his fingers. He pushed them slowly in and out, fucking her mouth. I let out a loud moan. “Strip,” he said. “Both of you.”
I started to lift my shirt, but he pulled his fingers from her mouth, reached over me and opened the door. “Out there. You and Yvette need to learn what it means to listen. She didn’t believe me either, that both of you could get along. But I always knew; two filthy sluts who can’t get enough cock.” Was this really happening? The whole day had felt like a dream, so why not go with it? I didn’t have to be back home until morning. And even though he was the most sadistic man I had ever met, I trusted Luke to protect us.
I stumbled out of the car and got naked as fast as possible, Yvette right on my heels. “Keep the shoes,” Luke said, tossing ours at us. I leaned against the car and slipped back into my flats, admiring Yvette’s tall black-and-gold ones. While he got out of the car, she pressed herself against me, her lips once again seeking me out. She clearly knew all of his tricks, because soon it was Yvette squeezing my clit, her small fingers making me quiver so hard I wondered if I could stay upright.
“I know you love sucking cock, Brandy, but I want to see what you do with a mouthful of pussy.” Only a man who knew exactly what an oral fixation I had—have—could say that with the certainty that I’d do exactly as commanded. He lifted Yvette onto the hood of the car, then guided my face toward her neatly trimmed bush, her lips glistening. I took one long, slow lick along her slit before zeroing in on her clit, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He pushed my face deep into her, reminding me of the way he used to wrap his leg around my head to press his cock deeper down my throat.
“Make her come and I’ll make you come,” he said. He stood behind me, still fully clothed, hopefully blocking us from view. I slid my hands under Yvette’s ass and pulled her close. She let me know exactly what she liked, her moans filling the open air as I alternated sucking on her hard clit and sliding my tongue inside her. When Luke spread my asscheeks apart, I really lost it, tonguing her for all I was worth. When he added his tongue to my crack, I went crazy. That was the thing about Luke—he could sound like a mean bastard, spank me until I could barely sit down, but then he would treat me to the most glorious tongue lashing imaginable. I shifted so I could press three fingers inside Yvette while adding more pressure to her clit. Luke fingered me too, while his tongue tormented me.
I was too overwhelme
d, not to mention busy, to make noise, but Yvette let us know she was going to come, her sex tightening around my hand. When she sat up and kissed me fiercely, Luke added another finger, and I came too. He pulled out and we leaned against each other, panting. “That was just the start of what I have planned for you girls.” I was far from a girl, but maybe that was the point. When I had been a girl, I used to think I knew everything. Now I knew only the here and now. I wasn’t looking to tomorrow or forever, wasn’t even asking what was next.
I looked from him to her and back. “I’m ready.” And I was—nothing threatening about it.
COLLEGE DAYS
Kim Strattford
Mira walked along the path between the administration building and the student union building, where she would meet the latest batch of parents and prospective students for Raynaud College. She nodded to students as she passed, knowing more than a few of them. Raynaud was a small university, liberal in outlook, but picky in who was accepted. The dean liked to say they were one of the mini-ivies, but Mira wasn’t sure they really rated that high. Not that she would ever correct him about it.
It was one of the lovely days they got in May, the weather perfect, just before it switched to hot and humid and reminded northern Virginia residents that they did, in fact, live in the South. Mid-Atlantic meant nothing except in the winter, when storms sometimes missed them as if they were under a bubble. Which was fine with her, she had moved to the DC area nearly twenty years ago to get away from the weather in upstate New York.
Well, and to get away from James Clanton. But she wasn’t going to think about him.
A resolution that worked great until she walked into the student union building and saw him in the group clustered around Jeannie, one of the student tour guides for the campus visits.
“Shit,” Mira muttered and closed her eyes for a moment. What the hell was he doing at Raynaud?
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