Meddling

by Lee Fisher

  Meddling

  by Lee Fisher

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes with multiple partners and graphic language that may be considered offensive by some readers.

  All sexual activity in this work is consensual and all sexually active characters are 18 years of age or older.

  Meddling by Lee Fisher Copyright 2017

  Smashwords edition

  Cover by Lee Fisher

  Stock Photos from Adobe

  Published with permission.

  All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by Canadian Copyright Law.

  Meddling

  Lee Fisher

  Contents

  Meddling

  Excerpt from Belladonna

  About the Author

  Also by Lee Fisher

  As a private investigator, it wasn’t in Jean’s nature to leave things be. Most of the time this habit served him in good stead—at least professionally.

  He had to poke things, and that included his lovers. Having both Mick and Aaron in his bed had brought the other two men into closer proximity, and lately Jean had noticed a certain tension between them. He rather enjoyed the thought of his lovers fucking one another, and he wanted to encourage it. For his pleasure, of course.

  The plan was, as all good plans are, complicated and had multiple phases. He’d made certain ahead of time that there would be a minor issue with Aaron’s dryer—which, after he’d oh-so-accidentally spilled a glass of water on his shirt, he’d pointed out to Aaron. That would keep Aaron distracted for a few hours, so he wouldn’t be interrupted while he prepared.

  Several cautious trips to his car and back later, and he was ready to set his trap: soft music, scented candles, roses, champagne in an ice bucket; he unscrewed most of the light bulbs in Aaron’s house—not all the way, so they were noticeably missing, but enough that they didn’t turn on when Jean tested the switch.

  They wouldn’t be able to resist one another. And he could watch. And then he could enjoy the two of them at the same time.

  He’d timed this carefully—Aaron would be finished soon, so it was time to collect Mick. He could do a very cunning imitation of Aaron’s voice, at least over the phone. The two men were already friends, and Mick eagerly agreed to come over to Aaron’s for a beer or three.

  Jean allowed himself a slow, wicked smile. This was going to be splendid.

  ***

  Something felt off when Aaron got back upstairs.

  “Jean?” he called out, tentatively. He shook his head when he didn’t get a response—Jean was like a cat, coming and going as it suited him. He should have been used to Jean leaving without saying goodbye by now, but….

  At least fixing the dryer had been relatively simple—Aaron was pretty good with anything mechanical, but fixing appliances these days pretty much required an engineering degree.

  He looked up when he heard footsteps, thinking Jean had just stepped outside for a smoke and was returning. He was surprised to see Mick instead. “Hey!” He opened the door for his friend, hoping the redness of the setting sun would conceal his blush. They’d been friends for a few years—they’d known one another before either of them had met Jean. Lately, Jean had taken to describing, in graphic detail, Mick’s sexual prowess. Aaron knew Jean was trying to instigate something between his two lovers, but Aaron didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his friendship with Mick.

  Not even if the sex was ‘mind-blowing.’

  “Hey,” Mick replied, raising a six-pack with a grin. “Not too busy for me?”

  “’Course not. I’m glad for the company. I was supposed to spend the evening with Jean, but…” Aaron shrugged. “Looks like he fucked off early. Must’ve gotten a call while I was in the basement.” Stepping aside, Aaron frowned. “That’s odd…mind your step, the light’s not working.” He laughed. “Lots of things not working around here today.” He ushered Mick in, fumbling for the light switch. “Does it smell funny in here to you?”

  As soon as both men were inside, Jean closed the door behind them as quietly as possible. Using all the stealth he’d learned from taking pictures of people in compromising situations, he slipped inside through a window he’d left open for that purpose, and settled into the spot he’d chosen to watch his show.

  “Uh…romantic evening planned?” Mick chuckled.

  Absurdly, Aaron felt his face grow hot again as he looked around at the strange things in his hallway, leading into the bedroom. “Uh, no. I didn’t do any of this.” With a sinking feeling, Aaron took everything in—dim lights. Flowers. Lit candles—someone had been busy while he was in the basement. Aaron was surprised he hadn’t heard Jean moving back and forth while he worked. “I smell a little French rat.” Clearly, the dryer breaking was no accident.

  Jean froze, making an aggrieved face at being called a rat.

  “Ah, yeah, that’d make more sense.” Mick grinned sheepishly, then clapped his hands as though calling a dog. “Jean, get out here—if you planned all this we know you’re watching.”

  “Personally,” Aaron told the room at large, “I tend to go more for steaks and beer when I’m in a seducing mood, not all this champagne and roses. You’d think certain people would know that. Shit, Mick. I’m sorry about this. That skinny skunk played me like a cheap fiddle, and now he’s gotten you mixed up in his…plan.”

  Jean covered his mouth with one gloved hand to muffle his chuckle, his toes curling with pleasure. If only he’d thought to bring a snack for himself. If he were very, very careful, he might be able to sneak a few of the chocolate-covered strawberries he’d provided. Beyond those he’d already sampled—simply to assess their quality, of course. And one wasn’t a large enough sample.

  “That’s alright, no one can control that man when he’s in a meddling mood. Holy shit, he replaced your sheets and everything!” Mick laughed. He’d followed the trail to its logical conclusion—Aaron’s bedroom. He’d seen the room before, even been in it once or twice to grab his friend a clean shirt or something, but he’d never… This was different.

  Aaron blinked at the dark red sheets covering his simple wooden bed, liberally sprinkled with rose petals and surrounded by candles. “…Is this…is this silk?” Aaron couldn’t hold back any longer. He laughed until tears were streaming down his cheeks, slapping his thigh. “He…he really thought of everything, didn’t he?” He gasped. “Except for, well, who he was dealing with. I’m going kill him. Wring his skinny French neck.” But he was still laughing as he said it, wiping tears from his eyes. “Strawberry?” He held out the plate—silver—and popped one in his own mouth.

  “Mm.” Mick took one as well. “He might be a meddling madman, but he does have good taste. Even if it’s not really either of our tastes.”

  “Heh, meddling madman. I like that.” Aaron sat on the bed, eyes widening as he slid on the unexpectedly slippery sheets. “Well, I guess we’ve got a few options. We sit here, eat these strawberries and drink this—” he whistled, “—very expensive champagne; we track him down; or…” he flushed again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “we, ah…go along with it.” He took off his baseball cap and rolled it in his hands, unable to look up at Mick.

  “Or,” Mick sat on the bed and whispered in Aaron’s ear, “we could track him down, shove him in a cupboard, and then go along with it.” He grinned.

  “Wooo-eee, boy!” Aaron
fanned his face with his hat, exchanging a wink with his taller friend, “you’ve got a smutty mind, and I like it. You go that way, I’ll go this way,” he whispered, back making it look like he was saying something naughty in case Jean was watching—which was very likely.

  “Where do you think he’d be?” Mick murmured, words barely audible over the soft music Jean was piping through hidden speakers. His lips brushed Aaron’s ear. He considered it for a moment, then kissed Aaron.

  Aaron closed his eyes for a moment, both to enjoy the kiss and visualize his house’s interior. He tried to think like a Jean.

  He tilted his head to indicate a likely spot, hoping the movement was broad enough for Mick to notice, without giving their game away to Jean. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got a bottle of, ah, special lube over here,” he said, raising his voice so the hidden Jean could hear him.

  Jean frowned; he’d left a bottle of very high-quality lube on the pillows—ones he’d provided, of course. He’d put the ones that had been on Aaron’s bed in the trash—he suspected it had been far more than two years since Aaron had replaced them.

  Still…after a moment of unease, Jean decided his plan still seemed to be working.

  Once Aaron was up, Mick stood, taking his phone out of his pocket and dropping it on Aaron’s bedside table to disguise his movement.

  Jean’s frown deepened. It almost seemed like they were flanking him. Still, he reasoned, he was hidden. They didn’t know exactly where he was, and hopefully they would forget about him and settle down to business.

  Very casually, Aaron circled closer to where he thought Jean was. “Sorry about this. I know that lube’s around here somewhere.”

  “No problem.” Mick concealed a grin. He heard a minute shift of a shoe on hardwood and sprang forward. Throwing open Aaron’s closet door, he seized Jean by his collar and yanked him out.

  “Nice catch!” Aaron passed Mick a rope. It was silk—Jean had purchased it, saying he couldn’t have Aaron’s common hardware store rope touching his skin. He was tempted to grab the old rope, actually, but it had been banished to the garage and this was on hand.

  Between the two of them, they soon had Jean trussed and gagged. They hauled him into Aaron’s bathroom and left him on the floor.

  For once, Jean was too shocked to speak, even before the gag went in. He just sat there and gibbered, completely flabbergasted. How could this have happened?

  Mick grinned, looking down at Jean. “Come on, you know us pretty damn well, don’t you? Neither of us like being manipulated and we weren’t going to let you watch. You have any earplugs, Aaron?”

  “I do, and I’m glad you thought of it!” Aaron went out to his garage workshop and returned with a pair of bright orange, foam earplugs. “Now, you just sit here and think about what we’re doing,” he told Jean. He stretched up and grabbed the back of Mick’s neck, pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. He pulled away reluctantly, eyes soft, with a wide grin. “And that’s as much as you’re going to see.” He popped the earplugs into place, giving them a little extra twist, and turned out the light before gesturing for Mick to return to the bedroom.

  Mick followed Aaron, face hot and nerves tingling. The two of them had seen each other naked once or twice, and Jean had told him about his sex with Aaron in graphic detail, but they’d never been more than friends. Mick had always assumed Aaron wasn’t interested, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

  Jean screamed in impotent, wordless rage into the thick gag as they shut the door, struggling uselessly against his bonds—he knew just how well Aaron could tie someone up. He made himself as comfortable as possible, plotting revenges that he—probably—would never exact.

  “So, ah…” Aaron rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, uncomfortably aware that he was sweating and his face was bright red. “Sorry about that. Hope you don’t mind me taking liberties like that.”

  “No, course not. Anyway, I kissed you earlier.” Mick suddenly felt like a teenager again, socially awkward and unsure of himself.

  “Right, right.” Aaron was feeling just as awkward, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. He was used to being in control—with his work, with Jean—but there was a certain…tingle…that came from this uncertainty. “Well, we caught that little pest. What, ah…what should we do now?” He wasn’t used to asking for suggestions in the bedroom; Jean preferred being told what to do, no matter how much he might deny it. He had to go in with a plan with that man. This…this was new.

  “Are you interested?” Mick asked, bluntly. He wasn’t good at guessing games.

  “I am.”

  Mick grinned, sitting on the bed. He was suddenly aware that he’d already taken off his shirt and was only wearing his pants and boots. “Let’s make a mess of these fancy sheets, then,” he suggested.

  Aaron laughed until he was doubled over at the absurdity of the situation. “That’s definitely the best suggestion I’ve heard all night.” He was halfway through stepping out of his jeans when something occurred to him. Both Mick and himself usually topped Jean. “How you want to do this? I’ve got no problem bottoming, though it’s been a while since I’ve done it.” With another person, not a toy.

  “I’m pretty easy.” Mick kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, sliding out of them and revealing that he wore nothing underneath. “Do you want to bottom or would you be more comfortable topping?”

  Aaron slipped out of his shirt, then paused. “Sorry to interrupt the moment, but I just thought of something.” He darted out to his garage again, ducking past any uncovered windows so his neighbours wouldn’t see him—though he was still wearing his undershirt, boots and underwear, he was glad he had a door leading directly from his house to his garage.

  He returned with a pair of kneepads and set them down in front of Mick with a questioning—and appreciative—look. He wasn’t terribly surprised that Mick didn’t wear anything under his pants.

  Mick stayed sitting on the bed, cock firm with anticipation and excitement. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about this,” he murmured.

  “Stop, you’ll make me blush…” Aaron settled himself on the kneepads but didn’t strap them on, kneeling between Mick’s thighs. Tentatively, almost reverently, he reached out and stroked one thick, blunt finger along Mick’s inner thigh. “I’m going beat the tar out of Jean,” he purred, laughing softly. “Mostly for being right.”

  “Yeah, he’s intolerable when he’s right,” Mick agreed, shivering as Aaron’s finger brushed over his skin. He already felt a little short of breath.

  “Mmm-hmmm,” Aaron agreed, finding it difficult to form words. He leaned forward, bracing himself on Mick’s thighs. He gave Mick’s cock a warm huff of breath to begin with, trying to draw out the moment as long as possible even though he was dying to know how it tasted, smelled, felt in his mouth.

  Mick groaned, fingers clutching at the silk sheets. His cock twitched up against his thigh. Aaron had hardly touched him and he was already as hard as a rock.

  Aaron grinned; seeing patient, laconic Mick like this, all undone and needy, was awfully flattering. Still, instead of just rushing in like he wanted to, he kept his hands firmly in place, and planted a soft kiss on the head of Mick’s cock, barely allowing it to slide past his parted lips.

  “H-holy—” Mick gasped, one hand going to the back of Aaron’s head. He didn’t press or force Aaron forwards, not sure if that would be welcomed or not, but he needed more contact than just that electrifying and maddening kissing and barely-there sucking.

  Though it’d been a while, Aaron had always prided himself on his ability to take a cock—one way or the other. Rolling his eyes up to look at Mick and repositioning his hands to brace himself better, he began sliding down the long, slim length of Mick’s shaft. He closed his eyes in pleasure as the cock hit the back of his throat and he forced himself to relax and keep breathing through his nose as he took just a little more. Mick tasted like earth and rain on the horizon
and Aaron couldn’t get enough.

  Mick’s eyes rolled back and he rode out the first few waves, disconnecting from his mind and totally present in his own skin. His hand stroked Aaron’s head, alternating between gentle touches and scrabbling as the head of his cock hit the back of Aaron’s throat. He gave a few groans and gasps, wordless. His cock was already leaking pre-come.

  Feeling the extra slickness filling his mouth, Aaron pulled back so he could lap at the head again, finally allowing himself to use a hand and stroke Mick’s spit-slick cock.

  “Ahhh.” Mick fell back on the bed, hips rolling for a bit more friction.

  Aaron followed him down, half-climbing onto him to be able to reach past Mick’s long legs. Within a few moments he’d resettled himself, lovingly exploring Mick’s cock with mouth and hands.

  Mick found he was actually enjoying the feel of the silk sheets under him, though it wasn’t something he was used to. They were soft and slippery—a lot like the attentions on his cock—and he was quickly starting to feel overwhelmed. He pushed at Aaron’s shoulder, panting, still struggling a bit with words.

  A tad reluctantly, Aaron pulled back when he felt Mick’s hand. “You alright?” He took the moment to wipe his mouth. “You can, ah…you can be rougher with me. If you’d like.”

  “I’m fine, just…” he shivered, grinning, “don’t want to come yet.” He grabbed Aaron’s wrist and pulled him closer, rolling him over onto the silk sheets and pinning him down.

  “Ok, good. I think I got a little carried away. Forgot we were planning to do more.” Aaron slid up easily on the smooth silk, grinning up at Mick. Mic’s body was incredibly warm, all lean muscle and angles. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured appreciatively.

  “You too,” Mick replied, leaning down and fastening his teeth to the side of Aaron’s neck, digging in painfully then loosening as Mick sucked at the bite. When he pulled away, there was already a deep red mark on Aaron’s neck.