J.J. wasn’t done anyway. “I like her, too. A lot. I had dinner with her tonight—”
Sigge breathed out a curse, held back from speaking further by J.J.’s raised palm.
“She didn’t exactly jump at the chance. I didn’t give her much choice. Even then I had to promise I’d keep it in my pants before she agreed.” Jage looked solidly at Sigge. “I wouldn’t have taken her to bed anyway, out of respect for you.”
Sigge took a slow mental breath. That same respect, it could be argued, should have kept Sigge from making love to Indy when Ty had clearly said he wasn’t done with her. Or that he didn’t know if he was, which, in this case, meant the same thing. The friends didn’t poach each other’s women. That was an unstated but pretty much inviolable rule, and he’d broken it.
“So here’s the thing.” J.J. started out like he had some big reveal, but then he stopped, put his hands behind his head and lay back, and let his eyes drift nearly shut. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, thoughtful.
Reminiscent, it turned out.
“I’ve been thinking about Indy and how the three of us seem to feel about her. That makes me think about the single most outstanding sexual experience of my life.”
J.J.’s words fell into a well of silence. Sigge took a moment to gather J.J.’s meaning and then surged to his feet. He almost embarrassed himself, forgetting he needed crutches to stay stable. He grabbed for one of them at the last second and then nearly brandished it at J.J.
“Indy is no Vickie Mancini. She’s nothing like that. How I feel about her is nothing like that.”
There was another long moment of quiet, and Sig was sure what they all were doing. They were remembering.
In the summer before their senior year of college, the three friends were aware, in their unspoken, manly way, that their lives would be changing soon. They were all twenty-one, and by the next summer, with good luck and no injuries, they’d each be attached to a NFL team and their much-wished-for futures.
They’d spent the whole of the summer on the Jacksons’ farm. The time they had would be short enough, as each of them had August preseason commitments to their college teams. Over the course of the summer, they’d met up and reconnected with some of their high school classmates. Like they’d done back in the day, they spent some of their Saturday nights out at the bend in the river where the local kids hung out. There were bonfires and cheap, bad beer.
The friends stayed late at what they figured would be the last bonfire of their summer—maybe of their lives. None of them had any trouble watching Victoria Mancini, former homecoming queen to Tyler’s king, get a little high and show off some moves with the few who danced around the fire. She made a lot of eye contact with Tyler, but she didn’t exactly ignore Sig and J.J. either.
Victoria and Ty had spent their junior and senior years of high school getting together and then breaking up again. Sig didn’t see the appeal, at least, not beside the obvious. She was cute and sassy and generous with her pretty little body. That last was a fact he’d learned not from Ty, who was, after all, a decent guy, but from Vickie during one of her pouty breakups, when she’d come on to Sig.
Back then, he’d had the sense to say no. He was pretty certain whatever fun they might have wouldn’t be worth the tears and recriminations that would surely follow. He’d seen it all before from the sidelines of her and Ty’s relationship.
On this night, he watched as Vick pulled Tyler up into a slow dance, only a little surprised that she still managed to keep an eye over where Sig and J.J. sat propped against a log, feet to the fire. When she led Ty off into the woods, her glance back could easily have been interpreted as an invitation.
He and J.J. exchanged a look but stayed put.
The party had died down by the time Vick and Ty came back to the fire. Sig and J.J. were alone there—they wouldn’t have left their buddy behind anyway, but, point of fact, Ty was the only one of the three with a vehicle.
Vickie had Ty’s hand in hers, and he followed behind as she walked right up to the two on the ground. She was close when she stopped, enough so that her right foot brushed up against Sig’s right ankle. Then she made some kind of move that had her left foot tucked between J.J.’s two long legs.
She stood there swaying her hips a bit, an action Sig could see and was pretty sure Ty would be feeling, snug as she was up against him. To make sure of it, she grasped Ty’s hands from behind and pulled them around her.
Her gaze shared between Sigge and J.J., Vickie put Ty’s hands just so. She took one to her breast and, using his fingers with an assist from hers, slid her top down to bare one breast. The woman must have had some work done, because gravity appeared to have no effect whatsoever on that big, beautiful tit. She settled Ty’s hand underneath, presumably not to block the view.
With a sinuous little shudder, she led Ty’s other hand down her thigh to where her skirt ended—not all that far down. In another well-coached movement, Ty’s fingers lifted the ruffled fabric until her pussy was visible.
Victoria didn’t have no secrets. Using her fingers, she got Ty’s where she wanted them and, rocking her hips, gave herself a little rub. Moaning, she used her own hand to bare her other breast and then reached up to circle an arm around Ty’s neck. She thrust her pelvis out in unsubtle invitation.
From over her shoulder, Ty looked at his two friends in turn. Apparently, J.J. didn’t give him a thumbs down any more than Sigge did. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his truck keys, and tossed them to Sigge. “We’re going to need more condoms.”
Sig was randy enough back then to already have a good boner, but he caught the keys, rolled up onto his feet, and headed for the glove box in Ty’s old truck. Pretty much, the guys always had a condom in their back pocket. It was a lesson drummed into them from their first coach—and, coming from Sig’s uncle, that had been a hell of an awkward conversation—to their last. But he had to figure Ty had already shot his carry, and it didn’t seem one was going to be enough for any of them. Least of all for Victoria Mancini.
Vick had a lot of cock that night, and the three buddies had a fine time of it. Sig remembered exactly what J.J. was referring to. Nothing had ever felt better than fucking a woman while his two best pals were getting off in her at the same time.
By the time he got back from the truck, Vickie was on her knees in front of Jage. He was deep-throating her, holding her head, pumping into her, and she was taking every last prodigious inch. Ty was behind her, yanking on her nipples in a way that looked pretty rough, but she clearly didn’t mind.
The bitch was freaking game. She had Jage hollering out and coming hard when she reached around his ass and sank a long, red-lacquered fingernail up his hole. By the sound of it, that came as a bit of a surprise.
But it also pretty much opened up the back door as fair territory. Tyler pulled Vickie to her feet almost before J.J. had finished spurting down her throat. He walked her over to the decrepit picnic table someone had moved out there years back. He tugged her little scraps of clothing off and bent her over the rough surface. He motioned to Sig for the box of condoms and suited up.
Standing behind her, he shoved three fingers up her pussy. Roughly murmuring into her ear, he coated his fingers with her juice and then slid them over his cock. “You want your ass fucked, Vick? Do you?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Hard. Big and hard.”
Ty gave her what she wanted. Not taking it easy in the least, he shoved his cock up her ass as deep and hard as he could. Sig had never ass-fucked a woman before, though it had featured in a few of his fantasies. Watching it happen was a fucking revelation.
Vickie seemed to like it better than anything Sig could have dreamed up. She cried out in what had to be pleasure, given the way she started bucking, rocking her ass like she couldn’t get enough. She pushed up, hands against the table, and started giving Ty instructions. “Fuck me harder. Harder. Hurry! Pinch my tits. Do it!”
Ty gave her as much as
he could and was growling his pleasure in it. He slapped her ass a couple times and then reached forward for her tits. He squeezed at her nipples and had her wailing.
But not all the way happy. She looked around and caught Sig watching. “Come fuck me,” she told him. “Fuck my pussy.”
“Jee-zuz.” J.J. wandered over, his jeans up around his hips but open, his long cock hanging out at about half-mast. He’d had the sense to bring an old blanket along. He nudged past Sig, waited as Ty let Vickie up, and laid it out on the table. “You heard the girl.”
Sigge had been fairly cautious about sex. In high school, he’d had his frowny aunt and uncle watching over him, and he remembered too well the unhappiness of his young mother who’d given birth to him while still a teenager. He’d loosened up some in college—sex was pretty easy for a big football star with a little Viking edge, as it turned out.
But this was well beyond his experience, and he didn’t move until J.J. nudged him again, handing over a condom. “She needs you, man.”
Ty was on board, apparently, too. As Sig opened his jeans to let loose his boner and got himself covered, Ty brought Vickie up. He was holding her by the tits, his cock thrust up her ass, and still managed to back her up. Sigge stepped between Vickie and the table, his ass back against the hard, blanket-covered edge.
Vickie climbed him like a monkey going up a palm tree. She had her knees on the edge of the table at either side of his hips and her arms over his shoulders, clutching at his head and taking his mouth with hers. She spent a couple seconds going after his tonsils and then lifted up to look at him as she lowered herself.
Onto him.
Sig didn’t think it would work. He leaned farther back and took some of her weight with his hands on her hips. She had the tip of his cock at her entrance, and, already, he could tell how full she was with Ty’s cock. Neither one of them were small guys.
Still, the gal was intrepid. Ty drew most of the way out of her, and, with a determined look, she lowered herself onto Sig. She moaned as she took him in, going all the way deep with him. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. Fuck me, Ty, Sig. Fuck me. Both of you. Double-fuck me. Hard.”
They did. It took a bit of coordination at first, figuring out whether they were going to push-pull or push-push, but they got it working and it turned out both were good. Damn good. Ty and Sig took a little time looking at each other over Vick’s red head, and the ain’t-this-fun glimmer in Ty’s eyes made Sig smile. It was. It was damn fun.
By the time Vickie was squealing her head off, which was about the same time two cocks were jerking to hard comes inside her and multiple fingers were working her tits and beating her clit into submission, J.J.’s dick had come back to life. He kind of knocked Ty out of the way and took possession. He was all business, humping ass like Vick was made just for him.
She didn’t seem to have any quit in her, so she leaned over where Sig had collapsed back on the table and used her mouth to light him up again. After a couple minutes, Ty nudged close so she could work him with one hand, and then she split her time between the two of them, hands and mouth.
Before it was over, they’d double- and triple-fucked her into exhaustion—theirs and hers. For the finale, Sig was pounding her ass, appreciating the kind of nasty, feral appeal of it. Jage was in her cunt at the same time, and it was a wild double-fuck. Ty had gotten turned on again watching it, and he stepped up and put his cock down Vickie’s throat. It was a hell of a kick for Sig, watching her swallow that big cock at the same time he was getting off in her ass and J.J. was going all caveman in her pussy.
They all came together, Tyler pulling back to spurt mostly in Vickie’s face while she screamed out her orgasm. She was wracked with it, her ass clamping down and pulling a come from Sigge that about blew his head off. J.J. roared like maybe the same thing was happening in her cunt. They all collapsed, arms and legs tangled up and chests heaving. It was a while before any of them could move other than just turning a head to find space to breathe.
Unbelievably, Vick recovered first. She squiggled out from under Sig, leaving him to shove J.J. over so he could roll onto the table. Tyler was laid out on his back along one bench. Sig saw stars overhead and wasn’t all the way certain they were fixtures of the night sky.
Victoria might have done something like shimmy into her little bits of clothing. That or not, she spoke into the dark like she’d just been out for a stroll. “Nice to see all you boys again. I had a real good time.”
At that, she walked away, which, in and of itself, deserved a standing ovation.
But all three of the guys were still down for the count. They listened in silence as Vick found her car, started it up, and drove off.
The silence held for another few counts. Then Tyler spoke. “What I don’t get is how that woman can still walk.”
Sig snorted and J.J. chuckled. Tyler let out a full-fledged laugh. Then they were all three at it, roaring with laughter until it hurt, their bodies already as exhausted as they could get.
They’d split up at the end of that summer as they’d known they would, never quite having back those days of their young manhood.
And they’d never shared a woman again either.
* * * *
“Sit down, Sig, before you fall over. We all know you’re not going to slug Jage.”
Sig turned his gaze over to Tyler, and Ty had no problem meeting it. Regardless of Sig’s feelings for Indy, he wasn’t going to turn on his brothers. Still, Ty kept his eyes on him until he sat back in his chair with reasonable grace.
“J.J. isn’t talking about a gang-bang here. I know that and you do, too. So let’s hear what he is talking about.”
J.J. gave him a nod, but then didn’t seem to know what to say next. Tyler figured what he had in mind was probably a bit over the line for a Nebraska farm kid. And one thing would always be true about Tyler—you give him the ball, you should expect him to run with it. So he sat back, put his feet up on the ottoman, and considered. “So…she’s fair game, for all of us. We can…whatever. Date her.” He suppressed a little shudder at the word—that wasn’t normally the way he rolled. “We can f—make love to her.” That one wasn’t much better. “Or have a go at it, in any case. Whatever she’s willing to do with any of the three of us. And then it’s, what? Last man standing?”
“Which will be me,” Sigge put in. “So can’t we just skip to that?”
“You think it will be you,” J.J. said to Sig. “But you notice, Ty isn’t offering to give her up, even knowing your interest. He’d do that with any other woman. If he thought you were serious, he’d give over, and you know it. We all do. If it were anyone else. And I have to say, I feel the same way.”
They were all quiet for a moment. Ty spent it wishing he could deny that what J.J. was saying had any truth to it. The fact was he couldn’t. They’d blurred some lines here. He’d gone to Indy’s house and spent the night in her bed, even though Sig had already claimed her, if “dibs” were meant to count. He went there expecting to enjoy some time in the sack with an attractive woman, but, much as he hated to own it, something more had happened.
He wasn’t ready to let go of Indiana Jones. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but J.J. was forcing the issue. Tyler hadn’t been happy that Sigge had gone up the mountain after him, but he hadn’t had much basis for an objection. It had been okay with him just to skirt around the deal—that had seemed to work out all right for both him and Sig during their day spent in Denver.
He’d never been in this situation before, wanting to see a woman again, actually caring if she spent her next night with another man. “One and done” had been his motto, and he’d lived okay by it. Until now.
J.J. took over again. “We all like her. She’s hot, and we’re all guys, but we all know it’s more than that. We’re thirty years old. What we’re looking for in a woman is bound to be different than it has been up to now. And it should come as no surprise that what each of us is looking for is pretty much the sa
me. Independently, each of us met Indy and liked her. Each of us wanted more from her. I did, and I still do. And neither of you feel any different.”
Sigge was sulking, but Tyler knew what Jage said was true. They were close as brothers, different, but the same enough. And he could buy that they were all of an age when looking at a woman with something besides a good fuck in mind would start to seem reasonable. He probably could have gone a few more years without Ms. Indiana Jones and his pal J.J. conspiring to drive the point home, but they were where they were.
Sig finally stirred himself out of his funk. “You’re saying we, what…?”
“Share her.” J.J. supplied the word finally, and they were all quiet for a minute, considering.
“She’d never go for it.”
J.J. looked at Sig. “In something less than twenty-four hours, she had the two of you in her bed. If you’d have asked her two days ago, she’d have probably said she’d never go for that either.”
Ty nodded his agreement. “Before Tuesday, she’d only ever been with the douche.”
J.J. nodded, too, like he wasn’t surprised. Sig looked like he was stewing some more. “Are we talking about all of us…?”
“Fucking her at once?” Ty supplied, since Sig had kind of ground to a halt. “I’m in.”
Sig shot him a look, but, off the field, the guy really was a big, if sometimes grouchy, teddy bear, and Ty wasn’t worried.
J.J. was the peacekeeper and raised his hand. “That will be up to her, won’t it? If she’s willing, well, we all remember what it felt like with Vick. Like I said first thing, I’ve never enjoyed anything more.”
“That didn’t involve a football.”
All three smiled as both Sigge and Tyler completed their stock phrase, connecting them again.
“Can you imagine it, Sig?” J.J. asked. “The three of us and her? Not just in the sack, but…just, together.”
“I can,” Tyler admitted, pretty much surprising the hell out of himself. “Think about it. What’s the alternative? We each find a woman—like Indy, but not Indy. So we settle for someone we like a bit less, or at least two of us do, if we can live with one of us having Indy and not the other two. And even if that doesn’t drive a wedge between us, what do we have? Three women who might or might not like each other. Three houses in two or three different states. Then what? We see each other a couple times a year? The women come along and we have to worry about keeping them happy, or they don’t, and we all know we’re going home to cranky wives. Our professional lives are demanding enough. Even without women involved, it’s hard for us to get time together. Even this week, you notice, we had to split up for work.”
Three Men and a Woman: Indiana (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 10