The Boys Next Door: An MFM Menage Romance

by Miranda Silver

  He grunted softly as she squeezed his cock. She just wanted to stroke the silky skin, feel him pulse with need against her hand, but Ian’s tongue was suddenly plunging into her mouth, sucking on her lips, as he caressed her pussy to a fever pitch. She couldn’t hold back if she tried. As her mouth opened to him, her soft thighs clenched, closing on Ian’s wrist. Her pussy rippled in pure release. Her ass fluttered as he stroked her tight warmth.

  “That’s it, Diana.” Ian’s voice was hoarse now. “Just come on my fingers, sweetheart. Soak my hand.”

  “Oh God—“ she buried her face in his neck, her pussy tingling. Wet warmth on her cheeks surprised her. “I missed you so much, Ian,” she whispered. His thumb found the exposed tip of her clit, and her creamy cunt clutched his fingers in another long spasm. “This week— uh,” she groaned, her pussy tensing through more spasms of pleasure, thrusting against Ian’s busy hands. He was kissing her tear-stained cheeks. “I couldn’t stand it.”

  “I know, Diana,” he murmured. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, still panting through her orgasm. “I know, baby. Everything’s okay now.”

  As her breath slowed, Ian withdrew his fingers from her juice-slicked crotch, his lips closing over hers again. Warm palms spread her thighs wide.

  “Ian—“ she moaned, but she didn’t need to ask. Firm roundness pressed against her soaked entrance. Ian grasped her ass cheeks in both hands. Diana gasped as he sank into her cunt in one long stroke.

  “You’re so open,” Ian breathed. “I’ve never felt you like this before.”

  Oh God, he was just holding himself still inside her, filling her completely. “Please,” Diana begged, her hands flat on his back, clutching the broad planes. Her pussy spasmed around his thickness, hugging his cock. She bucked her hips against him in tiny motions, squirming against his firm weight.

  “I want to take all of you,” she whispered.

  “You will.” Hazel eyes, focused on hers, were glazing over with animal lust. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Diana.”

  He pulled back, then drove his cock into her wet warmth. A cry left her mouth. Each juicy plunge opened her more and more. She squeezed his waist with her thighs, bucking her hips to meet him as much as she could, gasping when Ian hit a tender spot inside her again and again.

  Oh God. He was. He was fucking her so hard. Pounding her into a froth of need, while her cunt clung to his cock and her arms and legs wrapped tight around him. It was so good, it was so right, oh God, the bed was banging the wall and she wanted Ian to go on forever, but--

  “Don’t come,” she gasped. “Turn me over.”

  Ian’s hands fisted in the sheets. His breath was ragged. With an effort, he slowed his thrusts and eased his cock from her dripping pussy. She shuddered at his lips on her neck, his hands rolling her over.

  A pillow brushed her stomach as he tucked it underneath her tingling body. A rattle announced a drawer sliding open. She moaned softly when Ian pulled her rounded cheeks apart, and shivered at the still-new feeling of cool lube drizzling over her exposed rosebud.

  “You’ve done this a lot,” she whispered.

  “This is about you, Diana.” Ian massaged her cheeks, pinching them, lightly slapping them, making her jump. God, she was so wet, her pussy oozing cream onto Ian’s pillow. “You.”

  Silky flesh pressed against her sensitive ass. One warm hand worked its way between her belly and the pillow to cup her soaked mound. The other was buried in her damp hair, sliding down to rub her neck. Ian’s leg pressed between hers, his other leg firm against her hip. She shuddered with pleasure and nerves, then relaxed against Ian’s touch, lifting her ass to take him as he slipped inside.

  “Uh-huh,” he breathed. “There you go. Just open your gorgeous ass to me, sweetheart.”

  God, she was completely open to him and completely at his mercy. Ian’s cock, slowly penetrating her tight opening, felt just as big as it had on graduation night. Then, she’d been afraid it would hurt, afraid she couldn’t take him all. She’d clung to Brendan because it had been so overwhelming. Now, a different kind of nervousness rippled over her skin. She felt so vulnerable with Ian, but she wanted to be.

  “I’m yours,” she whispered.

  Ian grunted, abruptly holding himself still. His hand squeezed the back of her neck. His eyes closed for a second, his whole body tightening behind her. Oh God, he was trying not to come.

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “You are mine.”

  “Ian,” she panted, as he slipped deeper into her narrow channel. The first time had been overpowering, all excitement and nerves and the twins closing her in as she gave herself up to their bodies. But alone with Ian, she could push back. Move with him as his thick cock firmly opened her ass. Moan with need, louder and louder, as her snug channel fluttered around his hard rod. His fingers played in her juicy folds. His free hand rubbed down her back to hold her ass open to him.

  She felt Ian’s hips flex behind her. He took a deep breath.

  “Diana, baby.” His voice was low. “I love you.”

  Now she froze. It was her turn to clench up, her ass clutching Ian’s cock. She twisted to look over her shoulder. Ian watched her, not moving. The room was silent.

  Love. Love was for way in the future. Six months from now, a year. When you’d known someone forever, and it was safe to say it.

  But Brendan’s voice suddenly brushed her ear, his coaxing whisper making her shiver: You’re so ready for this, Di. You’ve come such a long way already. Say what we both know. Say what you need.

  She’d already known Ian forever, and she was just starting to know him, and she wasn’t interested in playing safe anymore.

  “I love you too, Ian,” she whispered. “So much.”

  Then the breath hissed out of her when fingers surrounded her clit. Ian stroked her aching nub, sending sparks of sharp pleasure through her soaked cunt and full ass. It didn’t take much. A few slides of his fingers through her slick folds, a few gentle pinches, and she began to shudder in a long spasm that found release in quivering around Ian’s cock.

  “Oh God,” she gasped. “Oh God, oh God…”

  “Fall apart, baby,” Ian whispered. He hadn’t stopped caressing her hard pearl, his breath getting faster as her tight warmth clutched his cock. “Don’t hold it in. I got you.”

  She just kept coming, her ass clenching on Ian’s cock, hot juices flowing over his fingers as he massaged her swollen pussy. With every wave of pleasure, she felt Ian sink deeper. Oh God, she was opening to him completely, taking his thick rod all the way inside her. She came again, harder, deeper.

  “I can’t stop,” she moaned.

  “Don’t. Don’t even try.”

  Ian really was fucking her ass now, rolling his hips to bury his cock inside her again and again. And she was taking him. Thrusting back, moving her own hips, looking over her shoulder to lock eyes with him as she clutched his sheets.

  Jets of warmth filled her ass. Ian groaned, holding her firmly as he came. Each thrust sent a moan from her mouth. When he finally eased his cock from her clinging tightness, she melted onto his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat as his arms wrapped around her.

  *

  Afterward, Diana leaned against Ian in the shower. Water steamed over both of them, and heat fogged the master bathroom. She couldn’t believe she was rinsing off in Mr. and Mrs. O’Brian’s bathroom again, but Ian was completely at home. He lazily soaped her generous breasts, his body relaxed against Diana’s as she lathered up his muscled chest and tugged at the hair under his arms.

  “Tickles.” Ian twitched and grinned.

  “Right. You’re ticklish.” Memories of tickle fights with the twins were drifting back. Ian had been way more ticklish than Brendan — when Diana could get at him. She let her hands skate over his ribs, teasing him with soapy fingers.

  “Don’t even try.” His hand closed around her wrist. Before she could really dig in, Ian pinched her nipple, rubbing it to hardness under th
e cascade of hot water.

  “Ian…” she pressed her forehead into his shoulder, all tickling forgotten. She’d thought she was beyond worn out from the past — hour? Two hours? How long had it been? — but a twinge of pleasure shot through her moist pussy.

  “You always want it, don’t you?”

  “With you,” she whispered. She cupped his balls, stroking her thumb gently over the soft wrinkled skin, and his eyes closed for a second. “There’s so much I want to do with you, Ian.”

  She expected a crack about how many ways they could fuck, but Ian just leaned his wet head against the shower wall.

  “Like what?”

  “Show you all the places I like,” she murmured. “The things I like to do. The things I never show anyone else. Um, the poetry I hide from everybody.”

  Ian’s grin widened. “Hell yes, you’re showing me that.”

  She squeezed his balls very lightly, and he braced a hand on her hip. “And have you show me what matters to you.”

  *

  The kitchen was overflowing with empty chips bag, stacks of watermelon rinds, and piles of cans. A familiar voice carried in from outside: Brendan, in his swim trunks, on the patio laughing with the few remaining guests, a beer bottle in his hand.

  Diana could only admire the way he effortlessly wrapped up the conversation, said goodbye to the stragglers like it had been their idea to leave, and made a big show of ushering them around the side of the house.

  A cold glass pressed against her hand. Ian must have put it there. Diana gulped water as she leaned over the sink, wearing one of Ian’s t-shirts worn to soft thinness and smelling like him, and a pair of his plaid boxers that hung off her hips.

  Ian, in another pair of boxers and nothing else, shook his head over the kitchen, whistling. “I don’t know who makes this kind of mess.” He took a long swig of water, turned to Diana, and blew a whale spout straight at her.

  “You’re disgusting,” she spluttered, wiping water off her face.

  “And you’ve got a wet t-shirt,” he drawled. Diana glared at Ian’s shit-eating smile, his eyes on her full breasts through the soaked cotton. “What?” He gave her an injured look. “You looked hot. Oops, you’re still hot.”

  He reached for his water glass again. Diana dove for it, too. Right as their hands connected and knocked it over with a splash, Brendan walked in, alone.

  The charm was back in full force. A mischievous grin lit his face, dimples on display.

  “I’m leaving this for you guys to clean up.” He waved his hand at the mess in the kitchen. “All of it. And Di, your mom called to find out what was taking so long, and I told her you couldn’t come to the phone because Ian was fucking you into the mattress.”

  “You didn’t.”

  Brendan nodded innocently. “I held the phone up so she could hear the bed banging the wall.”

  “Brendan…”

  “We have some paint left over from when Mom and Dad redid the house.” He put an understanding hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I bet if you take care of the marks now, they’ll be dry by tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ian rolled his eyes, but there was an actual blush on his neck.

  “Nah. I covered for you, Di. Told your mom you’re staying for dinner.”

  Diana sighed with relief. A tiny part of her had been afraid Brendan was telling the truth. “You can stop looking so pleased with yourself.”

  Brendan just grinned wider. “I am pleased with myself. I’m that good. You guys wouldn’t be here, looking all lovesick, if it wasn’t for me. Here.” He wrapped Diana’s hand around her glasses and cocked his head toward the sundress she’d left outside, now folded and sitting on a kitchen chair. Then he tossed her a dish towel — more gently than she’d hurled her pillow at him last Sunday, with a subtle nod at the wet t-shirt clinging to her nipples — and draped an arm around his brother. “But don’t try to sneak around forever. Next time Diana’s mom finds you in her bed, bro, you’re not allowed to say you’re me.”

  “Not planning to.” Ian just had a stupid grin on his face. Diana knew how he felt, because she was so happy she thought she might never stop smiling. She could deal with her parents later. One thing at a time.

  The three of them cleaned up the kitchen together. Laughing and jostling, arguing over the best way to get rid of all the beer bottles and snapping towels at each others’ asses. Joking with both twins, Diana felt…comfortable. At home. At ease. She wasn’t trying to keep it together while she bobbed on a tide of lust and awkwardness. Everything fit.

  Brendan looked like himself again, smiling, all easy charm, but different than she’d known him, even when they’d hung out as kids. This was the side of Brendan that just showed up when he was alone with Ian, she realized. Raunchier. Blunter. More opinionated. Not trying to make everything pretty or everyone happy. Now she was seeing it too.

  And Ian was more relaxed, his face open in a broad grin that just made her want to eat it up every time she looked at him.

  “I love you,” she whispered in his ear by the fridge. The words felt so unexpected, but so right.

  A dishtowel wrapped around her waist. Ian pulled her up tight against him. “I’ve loved you longer,” he whispered back.

  “You were so mean. You made fun of my clothes. You hate my glasses.”

  Ian traced the rims of her glasses with one finger. “I don’t hate your glasses. I like that people don’t know how you look without them.”

  Diana sighed, opening her mouth to his tongue as she twined both arms around his neck. The kiss spread warmth over her body, but it didn’t burn with urgency. Not right now. It was just sweet and soft and really, really nice.

  A wet sponge hit her bare arm.

  “Brendan!” she yelped. Brendan shrugged unapologetically.

  “Ian’s not giving you shit anymore. Someone has to before you guys make me sick. Now get to work.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.” She threw the sponge at his chest, giggling.

  In seconds she was caught between both twins, tussling in the middle of the kitchen, kids again. It felt innocent. It felt good. Ian was squeezing the sponge on her t-shirt, just getting it wetter. Brendan was trying to get Ian’s head under his arm. Diana tickled his sides, but she was the one quivering with laughter, and Brendan’s grin made it clear: he really wasn’t ticklish. She caught her breath as the three of them disentangled, going to the sink to start on the stack of dishes.

  “Really happy for you both, Di,” Brendan said in a low voice, putting a hand on her shoulder, when she passed him in the backyard later to pick up a round of plates. “Ian knows that.”

  “Thanks.” The smile on her face was definitely permanent. Not going away. “Really, thank you. I know it too.”

  And if she was aware that her nipples still showed through the thin cotton of Ian’s t-shirt, getting harder from horseplay with both twins as they scrubbed dishes and took out the trash and wiped down the counters, or when Brendan tousled her hair or Ian pulled her close for a quick kiss, well, she could deal with it.

  Sitting on the patio once the kitchen was clean, eating the party leftovers for dinner, Diana eyed the two muscled bodies relaxed in their chairs. Ian’s fingers twined in hers, his hand resting on her thigh. She’d sat down gingerly, her ass still throbbing from his slow thrusts. Brendan had noticed and raised a knowing eyebrow, and she’d blushed, then laughed.

  When Brendan met her eyes, he leaned back and gave her an easy smile. And Ian…she didn’t know what to do when she caught the adoring look on his face, until she realized she was probably wearing the same goofy grin.

  “You guys really don’t think this is weird,” she burst out.

  A pause. Both twins shook their heads.

  Ian looked up at the open blue sky. “It was good. We all knew it. Now it’s done.” Brendan opened his mouth, then closed it, letting Ian go on. “Me and Brendan are pretty comfortable with each other, Diana.” Ian’s lips twitched. “In case you
hadn’t noticed.”

  “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

  He stroked a thumb over her wrist, and she let out a sigh. Brendan looked amused. “But I think this was the last time we do something like this.”

  Diana didn’t miss the way Brendan’s hazel eyes widened when Ian said that. Then he shrugged and flashed his dimples. “You deserve to be happy. You both do.”

  “What about you?” Diana looked at him curiously.

  “You mean, being head over fucking heels for somebody?” Brendan’s easy smile didn’t change. “No, thanks. I’ll let Ian make an ass out of himself.”

  Ian laughed. “That’s Brendan.”

  “I was just happy to help.” Brendan gave Diana an affectionate pat on the knee.

  She flicked a tater tot at his chest. “You don’t have to act like you’re some kind of saint. I know you’re not.”

  Both twins burst out laughing. More and more, the twins were so distinct to her that Diana forgot they looked alike — and then there were the times she still could barely tell them apart. This was one of those times.

  “This is right, Di.” Brendan stretched out his legs. “We had fun. And when you come visit this fall — you should come visit us, because we’ll have an apartment and you and Ian aren’t gonna have any privacy in your dorm room, and UConn has better parties than Yale, I’ll show you which bus—“

  Brendan broke off. Diana and Ian were both eyeing him. Brendan held up his hands, grinning almost sheepishly. “You’ll figure it out.”

  Later, after Brendan had gone out for the night, after he’d hugged his brother and ruffled Diana’s damp hair while Ian’s arm tightened possessively around her, just a little, Diana led Ian to the huge tree outside her house.

  When they reached her window, they kept going. Diana climbed gingerly onto the roof, Ian following easily.