by Brill Harper
She squeezes my hand and winces a little. “Yeah,” she says in a small voice.
I swallow thickly. This is so much more intimate feeling than I thought it would be. It’s like the three of us are the whole world. Nothing outside this room exists. And even though it’s Penelope losing her virginity, all three of us are being changed by it.
He uses shallow strokes, going a little further inside her each time. His muscles are shaking like he’s having a difficult time restraining himself. She’s tense, and once he’s seated all the way, his balls against her ass, she exhales like she’s been holding her breath a long time.
“Easy, sweetheart.” I’m still holding her hand and bring it to my mouth for a kiss. “You’re doing so good. How do you feel?”
“So full.”
I chuckle a little. “You are full.”
“Full of cock,” Shane says. He moves with more purpose, and the tight muscles of her face begin to go slack as the sensation is obviously less painful. “I’m inside you now, baby. Your tight little pussy is squeezing me so good.”
He grunts and starts moving his hips faster. I pull her bent knee to the side to open her up more. So I can see better. She’s so beautiful. I can’t look away from her pussy. From my best friend’s cock. I put my thumb on her hooded clit and press down.
“Oh, fuck. She likes that, Fletcher. She’s clamping around my dick harder. I’m not going to last too long.”
My blood is pumping so hot in my veins right now. Sex is awesome, but this is a whole new level, and I’m not even the dick inside her. “Make her come and fill her up,” I growl. “Fuck all your cum into that sweet little pussy, Shane. I want to see it.”
“Oh, God,” he moans. The bed starts squeaking beneath us, the headboard hitting the wall, and as soon as she starts sucking air like she can’t get enough, Shane lets go with a roar and starts pumping her full with slamming strokes that seem to wring the life right out of him.
He pulls out, his cock sticky and wet, and strokes himself as more cum spurts onto her mound. He’s painting her with it.
“My turn,” I growl.
He’s barely out of her when I push my way between her legs. I ease in slowly, the fat head of my cock pressing between her swollen, pouty pussy lips. She’s tight and perfect. Hot and such a fucking, filthy mess. The second it occurs to me that my dick is covered in Shane’s cum, my eyes roll back in my head and my spine tingles. Yes, this is perfect.
My toes curl as I glide home. I kiss the inside of her leg. “You’re ours now, sweetheart.”
I’m the only one here that hasn’t come yet tonight. Delayed gratification demands its satisfaction at some point, and I gush inside her when Shane leans down to kiss her, when I see his tongue in her mouth. My shuddery climax seems to go on and on, and her sweet pussy milks me dry when she starts coming again in tight little contractions around my cock.
When I finally open my eyes, Shane is watching me. He sends me an almost shy smile, unusual for him, and I realize we’re all a little shocked and dazed right now. My heart trips over itself for a minute.
I roll to the other side of Penelope and we sandwich her between us. My bed is wet and sticky, but I don’t want anyone to get up yet. I don’t want to break the spell.
This is mine.
I’m...happy. I want to hold on to this moment as long as I can, sharing it with the two people I care about. Everything feels different. Like a puzzle coming together, the last piece fitting just right between us.
Chapter Eighteen
When I get out of the shower the next morning, my bed is empty. I hear Shane thumping around in the kitchen, and the bathroom door closes, letting me know where Penelope is.
We all slept together last night, though we didn’t go for another round. She’s going to need to rest some sore muscles, I think.
I head to the kitchen, following my nose, and pour myself coffee while I watch Shane frying bacon. I don’t know what to say that won’t sound awkward. But I don’t want to not say something because that might be worse.
He sends me a smirk over his shoulder. “So, that happened.”
And just like that, it’s all good.
We don’t normally eat breakfast together. Our morning schedules are all kind of crazy, so most of the time it’s toast on the run, but this is nice. I even set the table. And when Penelope comes in and gives us a shy smile, my heart does an extra beat.
“We’re all okay, right?” Shane asks as he sits down and digs into his plate. I forget sometimes that he’s not always the confident, cocky ass he shows most of the world. It’s not like we sit around and talk about feelings and shit. But he’s obviously not as sure of himself as he pretends to be.
“Yeah. We’re all okay,” Penelope says. “I meant to tell you thank you for the roses. That was very sweet.”
He looks relieved and takes another bite.
“Yeah. Thanks for not burning the house down with the candles too. I think we need to get more in case we get another storm.” I take a bite of my own breakfast. “This is the best fucking bacon ever,” I say. “What did you do to it?”
“Brown sugar,” Shane answers and keeps eating.
But my bacon is paused halfway to my mouth. “When did you start caring about cooking? This is seriously good.”
He shrugs. “I barely passed my last lit test, which got me to thinking that I needed a back-up plan in case I fail out of college.”
“You’re not going to fail out of college.” He’s got both of us right here ready to help him any way we can. Penelope is a superbrain and I’m no academic slouch. “So your back-up plan is cooking?”
He drains his OJ. “Nope. My back-up plan is making sure I’m so damn useful that you never kick me out of the garage apartment. I figure I can be like that lady on the Brady Bunch.” He looks at Penelope. “What was her name?”
Penelope shrugs. “What’s the Brady Bunch?”
He shakes his head. “Seriously?”
“Alice,” I offer. “So, you want to be my housekeeper? That’s your back-up plan?”
“I could totally pull off that dress and apron she wore.”
“I’m being serious.”
He gets up from the table, clearing his plate. “The way I see it, you’re probably going to marry someone who also works a lot like you do. You’re going to have a fabulous double income lifestyle in the suburbs, but not much time. If I’m around to keep the home fires burning and making sure Fletch Jr. gets to his Tae-Kwon-Do class, everyone wins.”
“Do you actually like cooking?” Pen asks, her distaste for it clearly showing on her face.
“Yeah, I do. Cleaning sucks, but it’s all right. And I know how to mow lawns and stuff.”
“You are not seriously planning on being my housekeeper.” I grab my plate, but Penelope shoos me away from hers as she reaches for more bacon.
“This bacon is so good.” She chews for a minute. “Uncle Joey.”
“What?”
“That show with the Olsen twins. He wants to be like Uncle Joey. That show I did see.”
Shane nods. “Yeah. Uncle Joey. Except no dumb voices.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re going to graduate college, and you will become a productive adult. Nearly failing one lit test doesn’t mean you have to be my housekeeper.”
“Caring for children and a home is being a productive adult,” Penelope argues. “It’s not stuff I could do. We’ve all seen my attempts in the kitchen.”
I throw my arms wide. “I can’t believe you are taking his side.”
Shane pats my back like I’m over-reacting. “There are no sides, Fletch. I’m just making sure I have a back-up strategy.”
Penelope gets up and puts her dishes in the dishwasher. “Shane, I can be your back-up back-up plan. I have no interest in keeping house, and I don’t know how to mow a lawn. Not sure I’ll have kids, though.”
Shane smiles big like he knows a secret. “Oh, you’ll have kids. Both of you
will. And I’ll be Uncle Joey to them all.”
He leaves the room and Penelope and I finish cleaning the kitchen.
“I think we should talk about BDSM.”
I drop the pan in the sink. “What now?”
“Sorry. I should have led up to that a little smoother.” She pushes her glasses up. “I did some research on the spanking we did last night.”
I open and close my mouth a few times, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. This girl confounds me in the best ways. “When did you have time to research?” I pick up the pan and finish cleaning it. “When you say research...are you saying you researched spankings? Is that what we’re talking about?”
Did I do it wrong?
“I’m talking about your dominant characteristics. As in you are a probably a natural top.”
“Top?”
“Like Dom. Dominant.”
I have seen some BDSM porn and I’m not on board. “Like leather? Whips and chains? I don’t...that doesn’t...no.”
She shakes her head. “No. I mean some people do sadomasochism, but I don’t think any of us are really into that.”
“You are speaking another language right now.” But something about the conversation is making my jaw grit and my heartbeat pound in my ears.
Her brow furrows like she’s concentrating really hard.
I rub the crinkle between her eyebrows. “Shane is right. It really is possible to hear you think.”
“Domination and submission is a kink,” she says slowly. “It doesn’t always include props or pain. It’s psychological. About control. About releasing control. There’s a lot to it, I think, if you’re into the scene. Like, levels of kink. But it’s not all whips and chains.”
I fold the kitchen towel carefully and slowly, giving myself time to think, and set it on the counter. “Okay. And you think I’m a top. A Dom?”
“I don’t know, Daddy,” she answers sassily. “What do you think?”
I think she’s trying to flip a switch inside my head. “The daddy games.”
She nods. “The daddy games.”
“Do you...like that?”
“Probably not all the time. But, yeah, it was fun.”
“Yeah, it was fun. I wasn’t sure if I was going too far with the spanking, but it seemed to progress naturally. What did you like about it?”
She’s trying so hard not to give in to her tendency to shy away from things that are awkward. I like to think we’re helping her with that. “So we’re clear I’m not looking for a lifestyle change.”
I nod. I wouldn’t even know where to go with that.
She continues, “I like the power exchange. I like just trusting you and getting out of my head. I like being naughty. I like how sexy you get when you’re stern with me. And I think I would enjoy an occasional spanking.” She looks downward and bites her lip. “What did you like about it?”
“I liked a lot about it. I haven’t really had time to process it all. When the three of us are...engaged...I find myself...stepping outside of myself. I’m always the good guy, you know? Always responsible, well-mannered, gentle. When we’re all together like that—there’s this...I don’t know what to call it...”
“Masculine energy. You’re still responsible, disciplined Fletch, but you get this primal male energy thing that frankly makes my labia quiver.”
She surprises a laugh out of me. Then I sober up. “You don’t think I’m too...dark? Too demanding?”
“No. I think it’s sexy as hell. And it’s even better because we get to see a part of you that you hide from everyone but us.”
I hear the shower cut off. I need something from her before he comes out. “Promise me you’ll always be this honest with me.”
She holds out her hand for a handshake. “I promise.”
She’s got a firm grip and it’s got me thinking. “So, if you want to shake something else...”
“Sorry, Daddy. I have study group in fifteen minutes.”
Little brat.
“Don’t forget to update your notebook,” I yell to her as she leaves the kitchen.
That damn notebook changed my life.
Chapter Nineteen
We’ve had three weeks of what is normal life for us now. Most would probably disagree that it’s normal.
We take turns cooking, or we order pizza. We play video games while Penelope rolls her eyes at us and studies. She’s always studying. We go to class and work out and go to parties where everyone thinks Penelope and I are a couple and Shane is a third wheel. Something I hate, but he insists is worth it. We’re just three college kids doing college stuff. And every night, the three of us fuck and sleep in my bed. Or Shane’s bed, but mine is bigger. Pen’s bed is a twin, so her room is basically just a place to store her stuff.
Well, we don’t fuck every night, but we sleep together like it’s normal. And for us, it is. Or it’s getting there.
The first time Penelope got cramps, Shane the Squeamish turned into a fucking nursemaid. He brought her chocolate and pain relievers and made her a heat pack while forcing me to watch chick flicks with them. It wasn’t awful. I liked watching him take care of her. I liked being a part of something that the real world can’t touch.
Which makes today suck monkey balls.
Today begins a week-long Thanksgiving break and we’re in the car. Shane is coming home with me since he hates going home to his family. Penelope will be at her parents’ house in the same town as us, but I’m having a hard time imagining what it will be like to be separated from her. I’m fucking twisted in knots over this. I’m starting to think my feelings are stronger than I thought. I’m starting to wonder if I’m in love.
Hell, I don’t need to wonder. My heart and my gut are already on board, it’s my head, the big one, that still questions it. The littler one was sure from day one.
I was made to be a guy in a relationship, unlike Shane. I’ve always wanted a stable love life—again, unlike Shane. I grew up in a great home, unlike Shane, and dream about giving my future wife and kids all the privileges I was raised with. And more.
So, yeah. I’m a kickass boyfriend. Still friends with all my exes. Still always looking for the right girl to have a good relationship with.
I never thought I would share that with another dude, though. It never occurred to me to share a woman until we all kissed in the kitchen. I’m not a cuckold—I checked the internet and I don’t get off because I’m being humiliated. And I don’t think of sharing Penelope like she’s some kind of possession. It’s the chemistry between the three of us. It’s this feeling deep inside that feels real. Whether we’re naked and sticky or cuddled on the couch watching Mean Girls and eating ice cream.
But we break all the rules I thought were important to me, and I’m not sure how to deal with that.
The trip takes about three hours, and each mile we get quieter.
“We should tell your sister that you and Pen are dating,” Shane says, clearly having thought about it during the silences.
Penelope and I both answer in the negative.
Shane takes off his seatbelt and leans between our front seats. “Baby girl, you hate lying to Jenna. She’s your best friend. If you at least told her that part, you wouldn’t feel so bad. Some truth in the lying will ease your brain.”
I can see Penelope shaking her head violently from the corner of my eye. “She’s going to be mad that I kept it from her all this time, and it will spoil our time together for the whole break.”
“Tell her you just started dating Shane,” I offer. “It’s a new thing and you wanted to be sure about it before telling her.”
They both balk at that too.
“I’m not boyfriend material,” he protests.
Right. What does he think boyfriend material is exactly? He seems to be pretty good at it from what I’ve seen.
I want him to love her. I think maybe he does, but I’m afraid he’ll never let himself feel it. And if he gets too close to it, he’ll run.
I’m not one to talk since it’s not like I’ve admitted my feelings to her either.
But it’s a package deal. I want us both to love her. I can’t explain it. I just do.
Before we get into town, I pull over at the end of an empty parking lot.
“What are we doing here?” she asks, looking around. The grocery store has been closed for about a year, the only other vehicles in the lot are for sale.
“We can’t kiss you when we drop you off. Need to say our real goodbyes here.”
“Jesus, you whipped mofo,” Shane says around a laugh. “It’s only seven nights, and we’re in the same zip code.” After I lean over the console and kiss her deeply, he sighs. “Okay, I see what you mean. My turn.”
He kisses her, then points her face back toward me. I kiss her and don’t have to turn her much, he’s already right there, waiting. Pretty soon, the three of us are kissing. I don’t know whose tongue is whose, and this is something new. It should freak me out, even a little, but it doesn’t. She’s our girl. We’re hers. We both belong to this hot little nerd, and she wants us both. I feel the rasp of his stubble on my cheek, and it’s strange, but not bad.
When the kiss ends, we’re all three of us a little quiet, contemplating the newest development in our relationship. When we drop her off, Shane carries her bag to the door, and we say hello to her parents, act like Boy Scouts, and leave her.
I feel fucking hollow as I pull away.
“This sucks.”
“Yep.”
“I can’t believe we just left her there.”
“Yep.”
“We need to figure out how to make everyone as cool with this as we are. I don’t give a rat’s ass what people think of me, but I don’t want you guys to get pulled down. I don’t want people gossiping about Penelope.”
I tap on the steering wheel. “I can’t think of any combination of words that will make everyone cool with this. Her parents, my parents, my sister...and that’s not including our coach or teammates, or the people Penelope goes to class with. I don’t want people pointing at her or talking behind her back, either.”