Triad

by Selena Kitt

  I giggled again, a little high from the smoke that lingered in the restroom. It stung my eyes and throat and made my head swoon. I wanted Alan’s mouth on me again, I wanted his hands on my body, and I curled into him, turning his face towards mine to claim a hungry kiss. “Fuck me,” I whispered into him. “Here, now, please.”

  “I thought this was about getting a double blow,” he replied. “If you want to call it off …”

  But Julian pried us apart. “Not ‘til I get paid,” he said, taking my dick in one hand and Alan’s in the other. He held them up between us, licked one red head then the other, and made us shuffle closer so he could lace his fingers together, trapping us between his sweaty palms. On his knees now, Julian pressed my erection alongside Alan’s, stroked us against each other. Then he licked out again, his tongue flickering between the tips of our dicks, before his wide mouth closed over us both.

  He took us in fairly deep—I felt his lips about halfway down my shaft, massaging my length. His tongue kept rubbing between Alan and me, reaching down as far as he could lick and then up to our weeping slits. My tender cockhead bumped against the roof of his mouth, against the back of his throat, against Alan’s tip. Julian’s hands kept up a steady rhythm, one working at the base of our erections, the other fondling our balls. He would take me in his palm and finger Alan, then roll our nuts together before concentrating on Alan for a bit. I hoped that he would move a little farther back—I wanted something in me, something hard and unyielding, I wanted the fullness of intercourse and I didn’t think I could wait until we got home. I kept spreading my legs, hoping he’d get the point and work a finger back to my quivering hole, but he was too busy with our cocks and balls to focus on anything else.

  Alan knew me so well. Pulling me towards him, he licked his tongue between my lips, arms encircling my waist to hold me close. Julian’s hair tickled my lower stomach where he worked between us. As Alan leaned into our kiss, he ran a finger between my buttocks to rim my puckered skin. I arched back into his hand and his middle finger eased inside me. I bucked into Julian, eager to fuck and get fucked at the same time. I wanted more than one finger, though—I wanted the hard cock that rubbed against mine, I wanted my lover’s dick as far inside of me as it could go, slick with another’s spit. And I wanted Julian to drink me down as I came. “Alan,” I sighed against him. I could barely pull away from his insistent lips long enough to speak. “Please.”

  Fisting a hand in Julian’s hair, Alan shoved him away from us. “Change of plans,” he said, turning me around in his arms. I felt his wet erection slide between my buttocks and then he filled me completely. I reached out to grip the hook on the stall door with both hands, legs spreading as wide as my pants would let them go, as Alan eased me back onto him. To Julian, he asked, “Can we do it this way instead? Don’t worry, you’ll still get paid.”

  Julian, kneeling before me, nodded. His wide mouth opened and I thrust into it as Alan pounded into me from behind. The soft lips stroked my length as he sucked at me, his hand easing between my legs now to play with both of our balls. Each thrust elicited a tiny yes from me, a small sound that escaped me and grew louder every time Alan rocked into my ass and Julian kneaded my cock with his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Between the two men I lost myself, forgetting who and where I was, forgetting everything but the sex and the lust and the pleasure of skin on skin. Then I came, a rush of release that surprised me with its intensity, and I let out a guttural shout, a resounding YES!, that silenced all the men in the restroom.

  I held onto the hook, head down, gasping for breath. Below me, Julian grinned as he wiped my juices from his chin and face. Behind me, Alan leaned against my back, his hands rubbing my stomach and hips in soothing, familiar patterns like he did every time we had sex. All this for thirty bucks? I thought with a breathless laugh. What a bargain.

  The door of the stall rattled and I looked up to find a scruffy, bearded face peering down at us. “What’s a guy gotta do around here to get invited to the party?” he wanted to know.

  Laughter filled the restroom, and I grinned as Julian stood up to face the man. “I’m running a special tonight,” he said. “Thirty bucks for two. You got a friend?”

  “Hell,” the stranger said with a grin, “I got a whole room full of them right here.”

  About J.M. Snyder

  An author of gay erotic/romantic fiction, J.M. Snyder began in self-publishing and now works with a variety of e-publishers, most notably Amber Allure Press and eXcessica Publishing. Snyder’s short fiction has appeared online at websites such as Ruthie’s Club as well as in anthologies released by several publishers, including Alyson Books and Cleis Press. For book excerpts, free fiction, and purchasing information, please visit jmsnyder.net.

  HE STARTED IT!

  By Willsin Rowe

  Kurt’s skinny hips were writhing inside his tight jeans, his bare chest shining with sweat as he walked toward me through a cloud of smoke. He reached out a hand and I took it, just as a thumping noise tore the dream from my head. I woke quickly, a little surprised to find my hand inside my underwear, even more surprised at how wet my fingers were. Even after three years Kurt still wouldn’t let me be.

  I curled into a ball and summoned up the awesome power of my slightly hung-over mind to drive away whoever was at my door. Then the knock sounded again, louder and quicker, so I groaned, blew my mussed up hair out of my eyes and slid my fingers out from whence they came.

  I stomped to the front door, utterly pissed. If I had to dream about sex with my ex, I could at least have gotten to the sex! Especially when it was the one thing Kurt always did well.

  “Someone better be in big trouble, or…someone’s…gonna be in big trouble!” Hey, it was 7 o’clock BC—before coffee—and there was no obligation on me to make sense.

  I felt my jaw drop as I swung the door open. “Kurt?”

  “Hey, Aunt Nicole.”

  “Shit! Ben!” God, he looked like his uncle, only younger…and prettier. I almost leapt up into his arms as I hugged him, realizing too late that my wet fingers were all over his neck. “Oh. Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Harley Briggs, Aunt Nicole. He’s in the reserves with me.”

  “Hi, Harley.”

  “Hello, Ms. Michaud.”

  Harley was a little shorter than Ben, probably about six foot even, with dark hair, a slight caramel tinge to his skin, maybe some Oriental blood back a generation or two. He had a real military bearing about him, but that didn’t stop me from scooping him into a hug. “Any friend of Ben’s is an ex-nephew of mine.”

  I felt him stiffen in my arms for a second, then relax. His hands pressed against my back lightly, like he’d just finished reading ‘Hugging…for Dummies.’

  “Well come in, come in. You’re making the place look tidy.”

  Ben cast an appraising eye over the paisley carpet and the peeling paint of the hallway. “No chance of that.”

  I blew him a raspberry. “Can’t help it. This is all I can afford, now.”

  Ben’s jaw hardened as he walked in. “I’m real sorry about that.”

  “Your uncle didn’t trust banks.” I shrugged with far more indifference than I felt. Kurt and I had run a successful catering business, we’d just disagreed on where the profits should be invested. My plan involved spreading the money between a joint account, a managed fund and a stock portfolio. Kurt felt it would be better deposited in the panties of barely legal pole dancers.

  “Yeah, well I‘m still sorry, Aunt Nicole.”

  “Please, Ben. It’s just Nicole now. You’re all grown up, and I divorced him three years ago.”

  He looked me up and down, his eyes rolling over my body like hands. I dabbed at my copper hair, but it was too late to fix the mess I’d become. I can’t imagine how I must have looked, a skinny thirty-six-year-old woman roused from bed, wearing her ex-husband’s old t-shirt as jammies.

  Ben smiled and shook his head. “Always said Uncle Kurt was fuckin‘
crazy.” He flopped heavily into the couch and pointed to a photograph on the wall. “I miss that place.”

  It was the big old house Kurt and I bought all those years ago when we’d first married. Ben was nearly eleven then, and he used to come over just to hang out with us. We were way cooler than his parents, simply for not being his parents. Plus Kurt was real good with kids, with making up wild stories and stupid games. Yeah, my ex could’ve charmed a homeless man out of his shoes.

  Still pointing at the photo, Ben looked at me. “Remember that cool rug you had in the sun room?”

  “The one I used to lie on to read?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Until you’d creep up and jump on me.”

  He chuckled, a throaty rumble in his chest. “Yeah. You were a pretty good fighter, Aunt- sorry, Nicole.”

  “That’s ’cause I knew your weakness.” I waggled my fingers. “Tickles.”

  Harley was sitting across from Ben, his head swiveling to follow our conversation. I turned to him. “Sorry, Harley. We‘re being rude.”

  “No, it’s all right. ‘s kinda nice to see you guys gettin’ on so good.”

  I scanned him for a second. He was hunkered into the chair like it was a foxhole, his shoes suddenly fascinating, as if in compensation for having to speak. I turned to Ben, a silent question on my face.

  “Harley’s down from the country, doesn’t really have a lot of family. Those he has, he’s not on real good terms with.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that Harley.”

  He shrugged. “No great loss.”

  Ben kicked his friend’s foot. “Cheer up, Softly. You have us, at least.”

  That actually seemed to make a difference to the young man. He smiled, still without looking at us, and I wondered just how old he was.

  “Well, boys, I was about to…” I remembered the dream, and my hand, and wasn’t sure how to finish. “…to, uh, have some breakfast. Can I rustle you up some pancakes?”

  “Why do you think we came here?”

  “Well I thought it might be for the stimulating company.”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had visitors.”

  As a kid, Ben’s smile had always been sweet. Now, as a man, there was a real dash of spice in it, the way one side crept higher than the other, like he knew something none of us did.

  “You’re not too big for me to put over my knee, baby boy.” I gawped as he stood slowly, moving like a buttered snake. “Okay, maybe you are too big.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Harley seemed to have relaxed a little, seemed to enjoy it when Ben took over the conversation. He watched the bigger boy’s every move as if taking cues on how to behave in my company.

  I headed to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast. The boys stayed in the lounge room and I could hear Ben’s voice rumbling as he gave Harley some choice details from our shared past, no doubt mostly the ones that were embarrassing to me.

  Before long I had a huge plate full of hot and fluffy pancakes and I took it out to feed my hungry two-man army. Harley’s eyes widened as he surveyed them.

  Ben looked cutely smug as he tore the first three off the top of the pile. “Man, I told you. You wanted to hit a diner.”

  I swore Harley almost had tears in his eyes. As if no-one had ever made him breakfast, let alone a pile of sinful food like this.

  “Go ahead, Harley. They’re hot and fresh and they’ve got your name on them. Maple syrup’s there, butter‘s there. You boys want bacon?”

  Ben moaned through his mouthful, which I took to be a ‘yes’.

  “Good. ‘Cause I already made some.”

  I brought out the warm plate and whipped my hands out of harm’s way as two forks descended like vultures tired of waiting. Ben flexed his right hand a little, battling with stiffness.

  “Hey, Benny?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I hate to spoil the moment, but do you have to check with anyone? The cops, your lawyer?”

  “Nah, all sorted. They know I’m here.”

  “That’s good. Ben…why are you here?”

  “Can’t I just visit an old family friend?”

  “Who’re you calling ‘old’?”

  Harley backed his friend up. “It‘s true, ma’am. They know. We’re goin’ to see Dr. Perkins.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  Ben shook his head. “I owe him.”

  I felt like slapping him sideways. “No you don’t! You got community service. You’re paying your debt.”

  “To society. Perkins is still drinking his meals, Aunt Nicole.”

  “So what, you’re going to say ’sorry’? You already said that, the day after the accident, and in court!”

  “No, ma’am.” Harley squeezed timidly into our spat. “We’re doin’ his garden.”

  I looked from one to the other. “His garden?”

  Ben smirked and slapped Harley on the back of the head. “Yup. When he’s not in the reserves, Softly here is studying landscaping. I’m his hard-working lackey.”

  “And what does that do?”

  Ben stood and gathered some plates, took them out to the kitchen. “How ‘bout I make some coffee?”

  I showed him where everything was, waited while he brewed up a jug. A couple months before, Ben’s mother had finally succumbed to breast cancer. It wasn’t a surprise, but it was still a shock. Ben took it harder than anyone, and he headed straight from the funeral to the local bar.

  His real mistake had been driving home. He’d gone onto the wrong side of the road and hit another car. Nothing serious, but Ben had still been cut up inside and he flew out of his car and attacked the other driver, a Dr. Richard Perkins, in front of his wife and daughter.

  Dr. Perkins ended up with a broken jaw. Ben got off lightly, the judge taking into account his good employment record and the circumstances regarding his mother’s death.

  Finally, I could wait no more. “You gonna tell me about it?”

  Ben sighed. “It’s a guy thing.”

  “Try me.”

  “I just needed to make things right.”

  “The powers that be gave you 200 hours.”

  Ben shook his head. “And I shoulda got more. But even then it still wouldn‘t make things right. Just even.”

  “What else matters?”

  “What about Jessica Perkins? She saw some wild-eyed fuckwit smash her father’s jaw…dethrone her king in a couple seconds.”

  “So?”

  “So I’m giving back what I took. He gets to have me say ‘yes, sir, Dr. Perkins, sir’ in front of his family.”

  “Yeah, that just sounds like crap. Little girls don’t respect their dads for winning fights. You’re poking the hornet’s nest, Benny.”

  “It’s all supervised, Aunt Nicole. I’m not asking him to like me. I’d prefer he gave me no thought at all.” He rubbed idly at his chest. “In the end, I guess I’m doing it for mom. She didn’t raise a thug.”

  I held up my hands and shook my head. If that’s how guys think it’s no wonder I’m single.

  Harley brought in the rest of the plates and cutlery. “You gonna ask her, Ben?”

  “Ask me what?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Ben loosed his smile again. “Don’t suppose you’d have room for a couple stragglers to stay for a night or two? Only you live pretty close to Casa Perkins.”

  “All depends. You’re not planning on bringing anyone home with you?”

  Ben curled his muscular arm around my shoulders. “What, like girls?”

  “I was thinking angry cops. With their sirens calling out your name.”

  “Well, I‘ll see what I can do. You do like a man in uniform, don’t you?”

  I dug my fingers into his ribs. “Idiot. Let me show you the spare room.”

  I threw some sheets on the two single beds while the boys brought in their bags.

  Once they’d unpacked they made a quick exit to see Dr. Perkins. I got ready quickly and walked to the local bakery
, the only job I could stand since my business went under. At least I’m still working with food, and sometimes I got the leftover pastries.

  The boys were wrestling lightly outside my door when I arrived home.

  “You two…cut that out.”

  They separated and flashed twin smiles at me. Ben pointed to Harley.

  “Hey, he started it.”

  “But I’ll finish it.”

  They trotted in behind me and helped me make a simple meal. Ben in particular showed great interest in preparing the food.

  It was so nice to have company over dinner, especially when I didn‘t have to get gussied up before or give anyone head after. Harley still kept mostly to himself, seemed happy to let Ben, and a bottle of red wine, drive the conversation.

  It was almost ten when I finally had to admit defeat. “Well, boys, I’m afraid not all of us are twenty-two years old. Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

  “Aunt Nicole, you’re even more beautiful now than you were ten years ago. And that’s saying something.”

  “Oh, Benny. You’re a terrible liar and I’ll give you ten bucks to say it again.” They both laughed at my lame joke and I bid them good night.

  I went out like a geriatric hip, but my sleep was very disturbed. Kurt was back, once again shirtless in a cloud of smoke, but it was different this time. It was the Kurt I fell in love with, the young version who was sweet and clumsy when it came to romance. I even began to wonder if it really was Kurt, or whether maybe it was…

  Again, the dream was pulled from me, this time by a screaming need to pee. Damn that red wine. Straight to my head, then straight to my bladder. I hadn’t even put any jammies on, I’d been so tipsy.

  I ran naked to the bathroom as if my knees were glued together, burst straight through the door and scared the shit out of Harley, who was already in there.

  Masturbating.