Erotica: No Limits

by BREANNA BENSON

  When the car drove off we went back into the house and Zach collapsed into the sofa with exhaustion. I sat beside him, sympathetically. Tyler had gone to the kitchen and re-emerged with a jug of cocktails.

  “I think we need something harder, tonight,” he said, resting the jug on the coffee table. He settled in behind me on the sofa and we angled toward Zach, ready for what came next.

  We were long accustomed to the way this went. He would complain about Lindsay, wondering what he had done wrong. Wondering if he had been impatient with her. Wondering if she might have a point. We would assure him that she did not. Then he would say that Lindsay had always been sensitive and it didn’t make sense to try to change her. Then we would say that she would not change if he kept putting up with her ridiculousness either. Then he would start saying the things he loved about her and end up crawling back home to a raucous sex session.

  However, this evening, nothing like that happened. Instead, he sat dejectedly, drinking his cocktail. After a few minutes of silence passed he finally sat up and rested his glass down. An air of decisiveness fell.

  “Yeah,” he proclaimed. “It’s over. I can’t do this anymore. The sex is amazing. She’s… god she’s so hot. But look at you, Tyler. You got a hot girl who you love and she does not drive you insane.”

  “Aw,” I said, faking sheepishness. Zach chuckled.

  “Seriously though. You’re great, Anne. You’re the whole package. And Tyler is awesome. They two of you together, you guys are just calm and sure. All the time. That’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s what I have to go out and get.”

  “Then go out and get it,” I encouraged. “You’re definitely gonna find it.”

  “For sure,” agreed Tyler.

  “You guys are the best,” said Zach, tiredly.

  “Hey,” I said, “let’s go up to your Dad’s big plasma screen and watch something stupid and funny, make fun of it and pass out. No need to go to bed angry.”

  Chapter Two

  I took a quick shower and changed into my pyjamas, some short lacy shorts and a thin spaghetti strapped top. My nipples were visibly hard under the fabric because of the weird cold that settled on this otherwise balmy beach town at nights.

  Zach’s father had a huge surround sound home theatre in his room. The king-sized bed was also incredibly cozy. I laid with Tyler, snuggled, while Zach flipped through our options. We found a comedy with a 2-star rating and decided it was excellent fodder for our mockery.

  Zach settled on the bed beside us and I decided he looked so sad that he needed some snuggling too. I pushed off of Tyler even though his hand remained on my thigh, and moved onto Zach’s shoulder. He snuggled me and I gave him a little peck on the cheek.

  “It’ll be ok,” I said comfortingly, wrapping him in a hug while the movie started.

  “Aw, I know Anne. Thanks.”

  Tyler’s hand rubbed against my thigh and we sat quite cozily, gently mocking the film. But Zach’s heart wasn’t in it.

  “Hey,” said Tyler, jokingly after about 15 minutes of the movie. “This reminds me of what you said that first time you met Anne.”

  Zach laughed. I sat up between the two of them while they began to laugh.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He met Lindsay first, remember,” said Tyler. “Then I met you. After he and Lindsay had the first fight he asked to trade. Said he picked the wrong room mate.”

  “Yeah,” said Zach, curling his arm around my waist and pulling me back toward him. “I’m collecting now.”

  “Dream on,” I said, laughing, pushing him off and snuggling back up to Tyler.

  “Haha, she picked me,” teased Tyler. “Sucks for you.”

  “Yeah,” said Zach sullenly.

  “Oh, now you made me feel sorry for him.” I went back to snuggle Zach.

  “No…” whined Tyler, snuggling me from behind.

  “You can’t kick the Zach while he’s down,” I admonished.

  “You can’t kick the Zach at all,” chimed in Zach, kicking away Tyler’s foot as he tried to wrap it around me.

  “Boys, don’t fight,” I said, like a school teacher. “There’s enough of me to go around.”

  “You promise?” asked Zach.

  “Of course,” I said warmly, kissing him on the cheek once more.

  “Hey,” said Tyler, sounding annoyed. I looked around at him. He was still smiling. I decided to test the limits of our play.

  I put my head on Zach’s chest, Tyler’s legs still wrapped around me. I leaned up to Zach’s chin and kissed his stubble. I rubbed my hand up his chest slowly and felt him look down at me, a strange expression on his face. I managed to get one leg loose from Tyler’s and wrapped it around Zach’s waist. I then sat up on Zach’s lap, hands on his chest. I loosened my hair and leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Tyler was watching me carefully. He had muted the TV.

  I felt Zach squirm a little under me before grabbing my waist, carefully.

  “What’s going on?” asked Zach.

  “I think she’s chosen…” said Tyler, amusement in his eyes.

  I nodded my assent.

  “Chosen?” asked Zach.

  “She’s run this by me a few times. Actually, a lot of times. Too many times in my opinion,” he chuckled darkly. “I think you’re the third.”

  “What?” asked Zach, perplexed.

  Instead of further explanation I reached between my legs and found Zach’s dick. It was semi-hard as I had hoped. I leaned forward and kissed him with intention this time, deeply, moving my waist against his cock, feeling him get hard under me. Soon his hands on my waist turned into a grip on my ass that made me get wet, immediately. My teasing turned into intense arousal almost immediately. Yes, he was definitely going to be our third.

  Chapter Three

  Zach looked bewildered for a moment when he realized who he had been kissing and where his hands were. He released suddenly and shook his head, looking groggy from alcohol.

  “Relax,” I said to him, drawing his attention back to me and pulling his hands up to cup my breasts. His lay his hands there, unwilling to remove them but unwilling to try anything. “Zach, you’re our third. We want to share this with you. You’re perfect for it. I’ve had this fantasy about being with two men and you are the one I want to try it with.”

  I leaned in and kissed him once more. I rubbed my hands down his chest and saw, with each rub of his chest, his arousal growing. The dim lights of the television showed his eyes, dark and hungry, focused on my body. He tentatively began to rub his hands across my breasts and down to my stomach and then, with growing wonder, down to my clit where it rested for a moment, pressing, almost as if ensuring it was really there, that I really wanted him to touch me there.

  I smiled and closed my eyes, feeling him begin to move under me and riding him like a delicate wave. He was hard as stone and each movement teased me, begging me to open and let him in. I looked across at Tyler, who watched me with pleasure and approval.

  I pulled my top off and stripped off Zach’s shirt. I saw Tyler disrobe quietly. Zach’s attention stayed focused on me. He only wanted my body, had only eyes for me. He was suddenly in me, slipped in from between my shorts and panties, his movements pushing him into me inadvertently. It drove me wild, setting me ablaze. I leaned over to find Tyler and make the trio complete. Tyler was already hard and he entered my mouth delicately. I rode Zach, feeling him penetrate me deeper and deeper even as Tyler’s entire cock filled my mouth. Suddenly Zach seemed to realize this was really happening.

  He rose from the bed and pulled off my shorts and panties. He entered me, sliding in and out with a moan each time. I felt like my whole body had been set ablaze. I wanted more. Zach’s finger played around my other opening, toying with the tight pucker of my ass. Still pulling in and out of my pussy, he began to finger my asshole, slowly. Feeling a dick in my mouth, another in my pussy and a finger in my ass was one fantasy fulfilled. I felt myself rise close
r and closer to orgasm only to be denied as Tyler pulled me away from Zach and onto him. He flipped me around and entered my asshole in one smooth movement of excruciating pleasure. Reaching a hand around to my breasts to continue to pleasure me.

  Zach froze, looking confused as to what to do. He had mistaken Tyler’s move as an end to this episode.

  “There’s room for more than just one, Zach,” I encouraged. I reached out and pulled him into the bed. He lay on his side, staring into my eyes. I guided him into my pussy and felt myself shudder with pleasure. Suddenly I was being pushed and pulled, back and forth, up and down, twisted and merged, made into a vessel distributing and receiving pleasure, endlessly, infinitely, a circle of give and take, a universe all in one bed.

  I had never felt so complete. As if I were being rocked into the best sleep of my life, the warmth and wetness of being pushed between them onto the most orgasmic wave of pleasure. It swept through me and made me scream out.

  But it was not over. Tyler sat up and pulled me onto him, his beautiful cock pumping in and out of my open asshole. My pussy was available for the taking and Zach did not hesitate. He pushed into me and hammered at the centre of my pleasure. I felt encircled by love and affection from two of my best friends, and they wanted only to make me feel what they felt in the warmth of my body.

  Tyler reached up from under me and continued to tease my nipples, tweaking, pinching, pulling, rubbing and massaging. It made my orgasm that much better when Zach basically pounded it out of me. I could not control my cries of pleasure. There had been a reason why Lindsay had always made so much noise. Zach was a machine.

  With a groan, I knew he was about to bust. He pulled out and instead buried his tongue inside of me and licked up and outward toward my clit, sucking, licking, pulling and pushing me to cum onto his tongue. I was flipped around then, completely in the control of the two men, shared up for their pleasure, as Tyler took to fingering me while I leaned my head back and allowed Zach to bury his cock in my mouth, making my mouth water as he did.

  Tyler soon traded his fingers for his cock and pushed me all the way back to that blissful fullness that I knew I would never be able to quit. He pushed into one hole and then the other, leaving a feeling of emptiness before quelling it in turn. He played with my clit as he did then took to fingering my asshole when he had traded to pounding my desperately wet pussy. Meanwhile, Zach played with my breasts while fucking my mouth. I did not know I could feel satisfaction this complete. Every part of me was attended to, kept busy for their desire and mine. I felt like a shared toy in a strange way that made me feel happy to be of service. Because they treated me like the most precious possession.

  To seal off this near spiritual feeling of community, we all came at the same time, finishing with yells of pleasure and approval stemming from all of us in unison.

  When we were done, I lay, lifeless and completely used up on the bed. I could not move. My joints felt like they were out of place, my body was putty. I had never felt this removed from my body but at the same time completely and wholly attached to every ligament.

  We lay there, breathless, drained and happy. We fell asleep, my legs across Tyler torso, my head on Zach’s back, his head at the bottom of the bed.

  The night passed too quickly and all too soon, the sun was up and burning in my eyes. Someone was moving around. I still felt Zach under my head and Tyler was securely wrapped between my legs. Who could it be?

  I squinted my eyes open and saw the disbelieving yet livid face of Lindsay.

  “WHAT. THE. FUCK?!” she shrieked.

  Chapter One

  I had no idea where to start. I had been hired last minute to fill in for a chef who had been in a car accident and put on bedrest so that he could heal his many broken bones. I kept fielding phone calls from the Chef (David Bromfield) who couldn’t stop checking in to make sure I was executing his menu properly. The impatient sous-chef, Robert, felt he should have been given the honor of stepping up in Chef Bromfield’s absence. His stares and “tsks” every time I did something wrong made my nerves even more frayed. The judgemental cooks thought I was way in over my head and had “quietly” started taking bets about what I would mess up this evening. The waiters anticipated being on the receiving end of criticisms of my failures and hated me for it.

  Nerves wracked, I cleared my throat and addressed the room.

  “Good night, everyone,” I said, unsteadily. “I know I had a bad run yesterday but of course that was our first night so we can’t get too worried about the next few months.”

  “Easy for you to say,” muttered the sous-chef. “The rest of us are expendable. And I’m sure you know where to place the blame if something goes wrong.”

  I was shocked.

  “I would never do that,” I said, appalled. “Look… you guys are very good at what you do, you ran an excellent kitchen with Chef Bromfield. I’m just here to make sure you guys carry on doing your best work. So let’s just get to work and make tonight an excellent one.”

  There was a murmur of consent.

  The night went smoothly at first. Then suddenly after misreading the waiter’s handwriting we wasted about 20 minutes preparing one of the more difficult dishes on the menu only to realize I was wrong and had wasted very expensive fois gras and truffles! Pushing down the urge to cry, I floundered for the rest of the night, unable to recover and receiving complaint after complaint from customers who had been waiting for ages.

  I ended the work day humiliated and broken. I was blinking back tears. No one spoke to me.

  I knew why they all hated me. I was fresh from culinary school and had only done small jobs in restaurants for the past 4 months. But my boyfriend, Brian, owned the restaurant. He had showered me with praise, told me I was going to be a culinary star and believed I could fill in for Bromfield. I knew I was good. I had been working on recipes of my own for a long time. But no one had ever given me a whole kitchen to run, and I hated working off of Bromfield’s menu.

  Once the whole horror was finished and the kitchen was about to close I decided what I would have to do. I saw Robert, about to leave and ran over to him.

  “Robert! Hey, um, can I talk to you, please.”

  He looked at me blankly. There was nothing there in his expression. No kindness or even dislike. Just disinterest. Like I was just an unpleasantness he had to endure.

  “I… I was wondering if we could work on a new menu. I can’t really run the kitchen like this and I’m more of a seafood specialist than anything so I thought… we’re right next to the fish monger, we can broaden the seafood menu for a while until the chef comes back. It would help me a lot to make dishes I’m more confident about…”

  “So you want to reinvent the entire menu? Start from scratch, have us start up a whole new prep routine for your comfort? And what about our returning customers – if we have any left – who might want their favourite meal on the anniversary of the day they got engaged at this restaurant? What about the printing of an entirely different menu? What about all of that?”

  “I…” I could not speak until I was certain I would not cry under his hardened gaze. His eyes were dark brown and his strong jawline was scruffy. His hair tousled and slick from sweating under his hair net all night. He had full, deep pink lips, almost like they were bruised. The way they were pursed at me. I flinched.

  I was spared having to speak as the door to the kitchen opened loudly and frightened me. I turned around and saw Brian. I was so grateful to see him. He had just hit forty and was a burly looking man with the friendliest face and a short bunned up ponytail at the base of his neck. I had been shocked when he had asked me out. I was a rather petite blonde, just turned 22, still looking like I was 16.

  “Hey, Becks, what’s up?” he said, cautiously, looking between Robert and I. He must have been able to read our body language and detect that something was up. “Robert,” said Brian, curtly in greeting.

  “Hey, Brian,” said Robert. “Have you heard about
the developments?”

  “What developments?”

  “Well, your girlfriend thinks we should change the entire menu. Make a seafood menu so that she’ll be more comfortable.”

  “Oh…” Brian’s brow furrowed. I could tell he didn’t like the idea. “Becks… I told you that if you needed more time to adjust to the menu we have you could take a few more days, you didn’t have to rush to work, that’s why Robert’s here.”

  “Yeah… that’s why Robert’s here,” said Robert, with a scowl and scornful laugh.

  “It was just a suggestion…” I muttered. And it happened. Uncontrollable tears began to leak from my eyes. I felt so ashamed. The only thing that could have been worse was if I had wet myself then and there in the kitchen. I turned away from them both and tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe the tears away. They came in thick and fast though and there was no stemming them. Suddenly I was wrapped in Brian’s arms and I turned and buried my face in his chest. It was like hugging a huge tree. Brian was always so solid and supportive that way. I felt him stroke my hair, as soft as a feather, and kiss my forehead with the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a leaf. My tears slowed somewhat.

  “Look…” I heard Robert begin to say, dimly. But Brian just turned toward him and dismissed him with a jerk of his head. Robert skulked out of the kitchen and it was just me and my support system, alone.

  “I am so sorry,” Brian breathed into my hair. I had stopped crying by now and just stood, face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his arms around me. I looked up at him and his lips descended on mine, gently.

  I felt my body stir as it always did when I was this close to Brian. He was just so much man, it was hard to resist. He held me against him tenderly and kissed me, deeper and deeper as I started to climb him, first one leg around his waist and then the other. He held me against him, holding my ass with one hand and caressing my back with the other. My arms wrapped around his neck and curling around his low ponytail, my fingers playing against his scalp.