I started slow. I withrew nearly the full length, then pushed back inside to the hilt. When I was fully sheathed within her, my aching hard clit pressed into the base of the dildo and sent a shock of pleasure straight down to my toes. I repeated the motion, groaning when my hips bumped against her. Reaching one hand up to play with her hair,
I threaded red strands around my fingers and exhaled through my nose.
I was never going to last.
“Please, Jude, faster,” Evie said. “Harder. I want you to come inside of me.”
Lacking all willpower, I obeyed. I tried to hold off as long as possible, but soon I was slamming that cock into her, fucking her as hard as I dared. Any initial fear I had about taking her so roughly was quelled by the way her noises of pleasure grew louder and more unrestrained as I increased the speed and depth of my thrusts. And when I pulled her hair lightly, she arched her back and let loose a throaty cry.
“That’s right,” I grunted, pounding into her. “Take that cock. You’re going to make me come, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Evie whimpered. She pushed backward into me, helping me impale her on the cock. “I want it so bad. Give it to me.”
I let go of her hair and put both hands on her hips, pulling her into me. Turning my head, I watched Mike’s reaction as I fucked her girl. Mike was clearly aroused, licking her lips and sitting forward in the chair.
“Your wife is an amazing fuck,” I told her.
“I know.”
“Can I come inside of her?”
Mike gave me a little smirk, but I could see that she was pleased that I was asking permission. “Go for it.”
One, two, three more strokes, and my clit couldn’t take anymore. I threw my head back and cried out sharply as my pussy spasmed, sending waves of pleasure throughout my entire body. I kept thrusting into her, grinding my hips in circles against her ass, drawing out every last bit of my orgasm that I could. Evie made little whimpering noises of pleasure beneath me, still rocking backward against the cock, soaking wet and flushed with arousal.
Before I could even catch my breath, Mike was up and standing next to the bed. She was somehow naked, suddenly, and had a slim dildo strapped to her own thighs.
“Okay,” Mike said in a rough voice. “I can’t take it anymore. I’ve got to have her, too. Jude, get on your back.”
I withdrew from Evie and collapsed onto the bed when she shifted to make room for me. I sighed in relief, exhausted from my orgasm and the experience of fucking my dream girl. I didn’t get to rest for long before Evie was straddling my thighs and guiding my cock back into her pussy.
“Hello.” I put my hands on her hips and steadied her as she sank down onto me. “Welcome back.”
Evie exhaled, grinning. “Nice to be here.”
Mike leaned over Evie’s shoulder and gave her a long, deep kiss. “I’ll go slow,” she said. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Evie said. She bent and traced my bottom lip with her tongue. “You’re incredible, by the way.”
“Tell your friends,” I joked, then took her mouth in a deep kiss.
Evie was an amazing kisser. She pressed her tongue into my mouth, then retreated so I could explore her mouth with mine. I felt Mike climb onto the bed behind Evie, and sensed that she had begun to touch her. Evie moaned and started to wiggle slightly on my hips, rocking back and forth on my cock, buried deep inside of her pussy. I put my hands on Evie’s back and traced my fingertips along the smooth skin of her shoulder blades.
“Does that feel okay, baby?” Mike asked.
Evie pulled away from our kiss and murmured in pleasure, closing her eyes. “Feels good, sweetheart.”
I glanced around Evie’s shoulder and watched the muscles in Mike’s arm working behind her. Mike raised her eyebrow at me. “If you think Evie’s pussy is tight, you wouldn’t believe her ass.”
Evie laughed softly and laid her head on my shoulder.
“I’ll bet,” I said.
“Her ass is all mine, though,” Mike said. “That’s something that belongs to only me.”
“I don’t blame you.” I wrapped my arms around Evie’s back in a light hug.
“Ready, Evie?”
“Yes,” Evie murmured.
“Just relax,” Mike said. She got up on her knees and leaned forward.
I took my eyes off Mike and focused again on Evie. Her eyes were blue, I noticed, and hazy with pleasure. As Mike pressed into her, they dilated slightly, and her mouth dropped open in a wordless cry. I leaned up and kissed Evie again, occupying her as Mike undoubtedly eased that cock into her ass. Sweat dripped from Evie’s forehead onto my face, and I never stopped kissing her.
“Still good?” Mike said after a few minutes.
I broke my kiss with Evie, and she exhaled loudly. “Yes.”
I felt Mike pull back, then press forward again. The movement shifted Evie on my cock and elicited a gasp from her full lips.
“You want us to fuck you?” Mike asked.
“Please.”
Mike leaned to the side so she could meet my eyes and gave me a serious nod. Then she began to thrust her hips in earnest. This caused Evie to move back and forth on my cock in the most perfect way, so all I had to do was time my minimal counterthrusts with Mike’s rhythm. Soon we were rocking in synch, all three of us, driving Evie toward yet another orgasm.
I slipped my hand between our bodies and found Evie’s clit, hard and hot, and rubbed at her firmly. She hadn’t stopped whimpering and moaning since we’d started fucking her, but with that, the sound of her pleasure went up a notch. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, and I watched Mike lean down to kiss her shoulder, then scrape her teeth against the pale, freckled skin.
“Come on, Evie,” Mike groaned. “Come for us, baby.”
“Yeah, Evie,” I murmured, then found her ear with my lips. “I know you want to come with a cock in your pussy and another cock in your ass. So dirty, Evie. This is such a dirty little fantasy you have. So come for us. Come all over the both of us.”
And with a strangled cry, she did. Mike didn’t stop driving into her for a moment, I didn’t stop rubbing, and Evie quivered and shook and came so hard that she collapsed on top of me, covered in sweat. She kissed the side of my neck.
The girl of my dreams, no doubt.
Bizarre Love Triangle
JD Glass
Adapted from the novel Punk and Zen
And we sort of fell into this habit, I guess, of Francesca (whom I still called “Kitt”) and I or Samantha and I going out and wandering around Madrid on nights when I was free, or they went out and did stuff or came to hang out in the club and we became, as weird as it sounds, friends, friends like we hadn’t been in years.
I can’t say there wasn’t some tension, because in all honesty, either one of them near me made me vibrate like a live wire, and any time I was with both of them for more than a few seconds I had to stay at least three feet away from whoever was nearest because it felt like… Truth to tell, there really wasn’t a single moment, not even in the studio, where I could forget what it was like to love Samantha—the primal intensity of her—or to be loved by Kitt and her controlled fierceness.
Finally, everyone had two days off—it was a holiday—and in their respective travels around Madrid, Samantha and Kitt had each happened upon a spot that everyone talked about as the perfect place. I’d never been to it because it was famous for two things: the food and the very specific atmosphere. People went there for important dates, to propose to their intendeds, to celebrate twenty-five-year anniversaries and to begin or consummate secret, undying trysts.
So of course, that’s where we went, and it was perfectly nice and perfectly weird, because it was a really romantic, candlelit spot where we had duck breast with something and way too much spiced red wine—and ordered some to take home. What the fuck, right?
After dinner, we took a walk in El Parque de Retiro, or the “Park of R
etreat” (and for the smallest bit of history, because, hey, it’s Spain, not some mundane part of Staten Island’s dump or something), which is what Felipe IV had built it for—retreat.
The park came alive at dusk and rocked through the night—artists and vendors lined the walkways, selling everything from “authentic” bullfighting ad posters to castanets, and then there were the food vendors, too, and here and there, the occasional games of chance, such as darts and balloons, the shell game, cards. Gypsies offered to read your palm and your cards and solve your problems—all of them—for the right price.
There were also street performers, individuals playing their guitars and singing their hearts out or groups doing complex flamenco patterns. This was Madrid at its most fun, and I was glad to be able to share it.
We passed the Crystal Palace and the San Jeronimo Church (which happens to be where the monarchs who’d financed Christopher Columbus got married), imposing structures that looked a heck of a lot different in real life than they did in a small two-by-two picture in a textbook, and finally, we came to the lake path.
I guess I was feeling pretty expansive and just generally good about everything, because we’d gotten to the point where it felt like we were all just so very comfortable with each other that I could occasionally hold Samantha’s hand or Kitt’s as we walked along.
I linked my arm through Samantha’s on one side, then Kitt’s on the other. “So, ” I said as we walked along the edge of the lake, moving from patch of light to patch of light and watching as the rowboats
slid by with their lantern-lit bows, “what are you guys actually doing here? I mean, okay, we’re all working for the label in effect, but why both of you? Not that I mind, of course,” I added, giving them each a smile.
We stopped walking.
Kitt stuck a hand in her pocket and turned her face from me to look at the water. Samantha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Well, Graham asked for Ann R Key specifically and he told the new head that I know you both…so they thought it would be better all around if—”
“Um, would you believe me if I said, we’re courting you?” Samantha interrupted, looking at me directly, her face inscrutable in the half-light.
What? Was she serious? I shrugged myself free of both of them and took a step forward so I could see them both a bit better.
“You’re not serious?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She grinned crookedly. “Pick one.”
“Jesus, Sam…” Kitt breathed out, giving her an annoyed look. She shook her head.
Jesus was right. And Mary, and Joseph, and anyone else you could name. What the hell was I supposed to do with that? How in the hell was I supposed to do that? It’s not like I was trying to decide between two new pairs of boots or something. And besides, if I was? I usually got both anyway. Eesh…what was I supposed to do with this?
“Well, what if I don’t want to?” I asked. I mean, hey, ask an easy question, you get an easy answer, right?
A look passed between them and Kitt returned her gaze to the water.
“You could have us both,” Samantha said softly and shrugged.
Kitt looked back at me again. “If you wanted,” she added quietly.
I picked a rock up off the ground and tried to skip it across the water. What the hell did that mean? Pick one, the other, or both? How was that supposed to work, anyway? One hop, two, three, and the rock sank with a splashy “splunk.”
I touched the charms that hung from my neck and faced Kitt and Samantha again after I knew that rock was on its way down. “What do you mean?” I asked, looking from one still face to the other. “I already have you both.”
Nobody said much of anything on the way back to the apartment, although there was this kinda loose agreement, or at least an understanding, that this was something we should probably discuss a bit more—and probably more than just a bit.
My head was spinning with the weight of what Samantha and Kitt offered because it wasn’t something that was even remotely close to anything I had even—well, okay, that wasn’t entirely true. There had been those few encounters that I’d had, but…that was just sex, you know? I hadn’t really cared about them, or even myself if I was honest about it, and it was still something I felt so disconnected from.
But Kitt, who was my lion, the pride of my heart…if I really took time to let myself feel it, I adored her. I couldn’t get around it, past it, through it, or over it. The best I could do was ignore it, and I did that badly.
And Samantha? Samantha was under my skin in ways that I still can’t describe, the beacon that called me like the sound the ferries made through the fog at night—constant, low, and wistfully mournful for a home that might never be reached again and remains forever missed.
I didn’t know what to think as I sat between them on the sofa with a movie playing on the TV that none of us was really watching while we finished first one, then another, pitcher of the sangria we’d made from the wine we’d brought back from dinner—those bottles went pretty fast.
Somewhere in the back of my head, this one thought persisted. Maybe, just maybe, still, even now, this had nothing to do with me—this was something between Kitt and Samantha, a dance of approach and avoidance that they couldn’t resolve, and in some ways they were using me to translate between them.
Ironically, that didn’t bother me, at least not in the way you might think, because in a very real way, I actually thought Sammie and Kitt were good for each other. I mean, look, they’d been friends for such a long time, had remained close even through all the things they’d been through—and there had been a time when they’d actively admitted to being attracted to one another. Maybe they still were and just couldn’t deal with it, which is kinda silly, but, hey, people are, right?
That was about the limit of what my brain could come up with for the day—it was the wall I’d hit and couldn’t get past right now. This was more about them than it was about me.
I probably shouldn’t have done it—but I did.
“This is not a choice,” I warned Samantha as I turned to her. She stared at me a moment, her eyes almost translucent in the flickering light of the television. I took her hand from her lap and held it in mine and softly pressed my lips to hers, and the raw sensuality of her response made my breath catch into a knot in my throat where it flooded back down into my chest, making my heartbeat ragged, painful. When I let her go, I kept her hand on my leg and turned to Kitt, who had been studiously focused on the television. I cupped her face gently and turned her eyes to mine. “This is not a choice,” I repeated, and her eyes widened when I leaned in to kiss her, those perfect lips, that perfect mouth again on mine, and my heartbeat, still ragged from Samantha, sang at the reliving of memory.
When I finally let her go, I had Kitt’s hand in one of mine, Samantha’s in the other.
“I don’t think this is about me,” I told Samantha and kissed her cheek. “I think this is about you and her,” I said to Kitt and kissed her briefly as well.
I let go of both their hands and stood up, then turned to face them. They both stared at me.
“You guys have to work this out.” I smiled at them, and they looked at each other, puzzled, before looking back at me.
“Nina,” Samantha asked quietly, “what do you mean?”
I smiled softly at her. “I mean that there’s something between you, between the two of you”—and I shared that smile with Kitt—“that you have to figure out.”
Kitt shook her head lightly, like she didn’t understand. That was okay.
“Well,” I announced, because I’d probably done all the damage I could for one lifetime, “I’m going to bed. You guys…do what you need to do, I guess.”
I leaned down and gave them each another hug and kiss good night. “Let me know what conclusions you come to, okay?” I said as I made my way out of the room, leaving them there staring at each other.
I flipped on the low light on my nightstand, got undress
ed, and slipped into my bed. I was tired, buzzed and strangely happy—because I trusted my Sammie and my Kitt to work this out and I loved them both so much that the thought of them together in any way had a beautiful feel to it.
I roused slightly as the bed shifted behind me and I recognized the warm fit of Kitt as she wrapped herself around my back, her skin so velvety against mine. I stretched a bit, enjoying the remembered feel of her against me, and turned my head to enjoy the press of her lips against my throat as her hands traced the contours of my ribs, my waist, gripped and pulled gently on my hip.
“Missed you…so much,” she murmured hotly against my jaw and brought her hand up to touch my face in the way that was hers and hers alone.
I turned in her arms and cupped her face in my hands, then tangled my fingers in her hair as I brought my lips to hers. I lost myself in the welcome of her mouth, in the elegant play of her tongue against mine and the strength of her hands as they retraced my body again and again.
It was no shock, no surprise really, when the heat that I always knew as Samantha warmed my back again and her hands joined Kitt’s, cupping my breast, rolling the nipple between her slender fingers until it was hard and I groaned with the sensation. I arched my back into Samantha, which forced my hips forward, my pussy against my beautiful lion, hers pushing back against me.
I let go of her hair and reached back and over my head for Samantha, bringing her face to mine, kissing her with the desperate hunger she raised in me, and Kitt licked my throat, biting gently, then pulling on the tendon with her teeth. Her hand slipped down, scraping lightly between Samantha’s fingers before it traveled farther, back to my hip, wrapping around me, grabbing my ass in such a way that she shifted the aching lips of my cunt, and as I sucked on Samantha’s tongue I tasted Kitt.
Fire. I was liquid fire, flowing between the diamond that was my Sammie and the contained strength that was my Kitt. I loved Francesca, I was in love with Samantha. I wanted them, needed them, both, here, now, and I slipped my hand away from Sammie’s head and between
Extreme Passions Page 3