Billionaire: Menage: Swinger: Let's Swing (MMF Bisexual Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Short Stories)

by Piquette Fontaine

  The struggle to accept this was still evident on Paul’s face, but when he saw Jack and Helen walk out of the room he nodded, and when Isabel led him away he smiled, and tried to remind himself that this was a situation in which everybody won.

  Chapter Five

  Isabel led him through the house and up the stairs. Paul gulped in an effort to swallow his nerves but they would not be calmed. When they entered the room he was greeted by the site of Helen and Jack kissing. He was already topless, and she was kissing his sculpted chest. When the door opened Jack looked at them, but Helen continued to lick his body.

  “Oh, you want to join us?” he asked.

  “I thought it would be good for them, since they’re new,” Isabel said, and Paul gulped again for he wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

  “There’s plenty of room,” Jack said, gesturing to the large bed. It took up most of the room, and as he said this he fell back, and Helen moved down his body. Jack’s hands ran through her hair and he threw his head back, gasping. Paul bristled, but he was distracted by Isabel pulling at him. He turned to face her, and suddenly all he could see was her. She twisted the ends of her long hair, and bit her lip. She stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, and then standing on her tiptoes to give him a long, deep kiss. Paul melted into it, and his hands naturally came around her body. He felt her curves, and she moaned softly as their tongues danced. She tasted like Paul had expected – heavenly, and she moved forward until he fell to the bed.

  He could hear Helen undressing Jack beside him, but he didn’t care because his eyes were locked on Isabel, for she was undressing. She peeled away her clothes and unclasped her bra. Her breasts poured out, and Paul gasped. She came forward and placed her hands around his shoulder, and then leaned down to pluck a kiss from his lips again. She giggled as their lips parted, and he shuddered as he tasted her sweet breath. His hands rested against her hips and her dark hair fell all around his face. He pulled her slightly and kissed her smooth olive body, taking her breasts in his mouth and sucking the nipples until they hardened. She gasped with pleasure, and her grip on him tightened. She took his hands and made him slide her lace panties down, and as he did his mouth followed, and he breathed in her feminine essence, burying himself in between her thighs and making love to her with his mouth.

  Isabel pulled Paul’s shirt over his head and descended down his body, kissing him as she went. He gazed down in awe at this goddess who was sinking to her knees for him. Jack was yelling loudly with pleasure but Paul was lost in his own heaven. Isabel looked up at him and a smile appeared on her heart-shaped face as she unbuckled his belt and slipped it off. Paul wriggled as she pulled his pants down and then gasped as she ran her fingers over the bulge that was stretching his boxers. His eyes widened as her agile fingers toyed with his erection, holding it tightly and squeezing it, before she tore away his underwear and let it spring out. She continued to look up at him as her hair fell against his thighs, and her lips wrapped around his swollen tip. Paul gripped the bedsheets hard as pleasure jolted through him. Isabel’s saliva dripped down on his erection, sliding along the rippling veins, and she moaned softly. His thick erection disappeared into her mouth and he watched as her head bobbed up and down, a goddess pleasuring him. His head twisted as he tried to process the pleasure, and as it did he locked eyes with Jack. Paul looked down to see the blond hair of his wife held back while she sucked Jack, and the two men smiled at each other. Paul’s hands copied Jack, and he pulled Isabel’s hair back so he could see her in all her glory.

  When Isabel had had enough she rose and straddled Paul. The feeling of new skin against his excited him greatly, and eruptions of pleasure were bursting all over his body. He drowned in Isabel, kissing and caressing in such a way that made her feel worshipped, and she flung her head back and enjoyed the adoration. Paul explored her flesh and her wet lips, touching her almost to test that this wasn’t simply a dream. His hand slid down and felt her warmth and she writhed on his lap. He held her steady, and in the dim recesses of his mind he could hear his wife moaning in pleasure. Through blurred vision he glanced over and saw Helen laying on her back while Jack was between her thighs, pleasing her with his tongue. Helen’s face was flushed and sweat glistened on her skin.

  Paul returned to focus his attention on Isabel but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to contain himself for long. It was taking all his self-restraint, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of her. It had been so long since he had sex that was this passionate, this exciting, and it all threatened to overflow. His hands fell down Isabel’s spine and he pulled her head back, finding a newfound confidence. He rose slightly and twisted himself around, throwing Isabel down on the bed, driving the breath from her lungs. Upon her landing the bed shook, and her long dark hair splayed out around her. Sweat dripped from Paul’s skin and splashed on Isabel’s body, she looked at him, her face contorted with desire, and begged him to fuck her. Paul looked down on her, a dream come true, and was filled with a powerful, primal desire, one that overrode everything else in his life and tapped into his savage subconscious. He pinned Isabel down and looked upon her with pure lust, and then plunged himself inside her wet warmth. His mouth opened wide and guttural grunts escaped his lips as he thrust powerfully. Isabel’s body rocked against the bed and she moaned shrilly as the pleasure sang through her body.

  She gripped the sheets as Paul fucked her, and his body jerked violently as he let years of frustration and need explode out of him. Isabel stretched out her limbs in an effort to not be overwhelmed by the force of his passion and as she did so her hands met Helen’s. Jack had seen how Paul was deep into Isabel, and didn’t want to be left behind so he took had started fucking Helen. The two men found an equal rhythm and the women were being left breathless as they were being fucked senseless. The air was alive with passion and moans and groans, and the bed creaked and shook. The two women shuddered and held onto each other tightly as they were taken on a rollercoaster of blissful delight. Paul glanced over and watched his wife getting screwed, and then down at Isabel, who he was pounding, and his brain crackled in delirium. He never imagined being this excited, and he let the desire completely overtake him.

  Isabel and Helen twisted their heads and looked at each other, and when Helen looked up at her husband she saw that something had awakened in him, and she was filled with desire for him. The pleasure ran high in that room, and when the orgasms thundered through all of them it was like the earth had cracked. Orgasmic screams flew out of them like a banshee’s wail and everyone else in the house was interrupted from what they were doing, and listened with envy at the sheer pleasure felt.

  Paul collapsed on Isabel and rolled in between her and his wife. He breathed heavily, and didn’t even have the energy to wipe the sweat from his body. Jack pulled Isabel up and the two of them kissed.

  “See you at work,” he called out, and winked at Jack. They gathered their clothes and left Paul and Helen alone. It was strange to be alone again after all of that, and once the afterglow of sex had dissipated they found that, for a moment, they returned to their normal status quo. Paul smiled nervously, and Helen licked her lips, and curled her body up. They got dressed in silence, and made their way out of the house, not speaking to anybody on the way.

  As they walked back to the car they did so in silence, for neither of them knew what to say. Their hands brushed against each other but neither of them made the effort to let their fingers link together. They got into the car and shut the doors, encasing themselves in the real world again. There they were sitting for a long time, until wide smiles broke out on both their faces. They turned slightly to look at each other.

  “How do you feel?” Helen asked, slightly raising an eyebrow. Paul looked at her, and realized that he was feeling something in his heart that he knew he had felt once before, but it had been so long that it had almost seemed like a dream.

  “I feel al
ive,” he said, and the two of them burst into laughter. They kissed deeply, passionately, and then revved the engine to start the journey home to their own bed.

  THE END

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  Love In An Elevator

  “Could you hold that door for me please?”

  Shit.

  One, two, three, four, five, six... Nine words into my day, and I could already tell that things weren't going to go at all like I'd planned for me today. Nine words, and a scene of the utmost awkwardness was destined to unfold at a nearby point in my impending future, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

  But what the hell could I do, honest to God? You can accuse me of secretly wanting this, of having some masochistic desire for such a dreadful situation to unfold, all you want to. You can say that I'm just making up excuses, that I could legitimately have altered the course of events had it been my prerogative to do so. And if that's what you want to believe, then by all means, believe it. But it's not at all the truth- in fact it's nowhere, even at all remotely close to what was really going through my mind in that moment.

  The fact of the matter is, I simply had no choice. The laws and dictates of social propriety, manners, and my wish to keep my job all dictated that, at the words “Could you hold that door for me please?”, I must lean forward, push a button to keep the elevator doors from closing, and keep them open long enough for the man in question to climb on board, joining the pair of us already standing in the center of the elevator- and then, letting my fate transpire however it might elect to do from there. It wasn't as though I could go rushing for the “close” button, pretending as though it was an accident as I did so, and in the process shut out my boss from entry, my goddamn boss of all people!

  It would have been ridiculous... Suicidal... Or, well, maybe not quite that extreme. Maybe, possibly, I could have redeemed myself after the fact, but it would have taken a hell of a lot of convincing, not to mention possibly spending some time on my knees- not something that was new to me, by any means...

  But, it was all too complicated. Having to explain away my actions after the fact would be far more inconvenient, would lead to far too many tangles, compared to if I simply did I was asked at the present moment, behaving considerately and letting my boss climb on. It may have seemed as though I had a choice, but this was more illusion than anything. I was going to have to plunge head first into this most awkward of situations, grit my teeth and bear it, and hope that things didn't get any more progressively awkward than I knew they already would be.

  Just as the elevator doors were about halfway closed, and I could scarcely peek out the still open slit, I took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed the button that slid them back open once again. Slowly, they unfurled, revealing to me, in plain sight, the view of my boss, smiling at me, and his eyes turning only momentarily to the man standing beside me. I don't think he thought much of him, really, so much as he was simply noting his presence- in other words, he didn't make the connection between Mark and I, or at any rate, not the connection that Mark and I shared secretly with one another. He knew that the two of us worked together routinely, but his knowledge didn't go beyond that. Similarly, Mark, as far as I could devise, had no knowledge of the dynamic between the boss and I. Any awkwardness he seemed to be feeling in that moment was the same sort of awkwardness that any junior employee may tend to feel around a superior. Intimidation, perhaps, a feeling of inferiority or a need to impress. But nothing more than that, really.

  I was honestly the only one with a full, complete picture of the scene that had just set itself up in the cramped space of this elevator...

  “Good morning, Miss Plemons... Mister Hill,” said Mister Johnson, nodding curtly to both Mark and I as he stepped to my opposite side, and lingering just a little bit longer on me, smiling as he did so, but not elaborating any further on the meaning of this look.

  “Good morning, Mr. Hill,” I said, and Mark slightly echoed me, his speech coming at a minuscule delay from my own, in a manner that was almost comical, “Morning Mr. Hill.”

  I could detect Mr. Johnson coyly trying to continue looking at me from the corner of his eye, as though he might somehow expect some further manner of recognition on my part, in light of what it was the two of us had shared. I supposed I could understand that, to an extent, but what the hell did he expect me to do? I couldn't well acknowledge our personal connection, showing my hand to Mark in the process, and make things hella awkward on the ride up for us, now could I? At last, when it must have grown apparent to him that he'd received every bit of the recognition from me he would get, he turned slowly away from me, still smiling, still seeming as though he knew perfectly well what was going on, as though he, above either of us in this cramped little space, held the most confidential of knowledge. Though that honor, of course, fell to me, and God did I wish it could be otherwise in that moment.

  I needed to break the silence somehow, needed to save my sanity before I started shaking, trembling, stammering from the awkwardness. Above all, I needed to get a grip on myself, knowing full well that I was seriously overreacting right now, and that as long as I could force myself to remain cool-headed, I shouldn't reasonably have been as worried as I was in the present.

  “Going up, Mr. Johnson?” I ventured, my voice cracking slightly, and I realized that I sounded like a damn teenager.

  “Uh, yes, I'm going to- Well, as it turns out, I'm going to the same floor as the two of you. So that works out perfectly, doesn't it?”

  “Oh, great!” I said, feigning an overenthusiastic smile at him- I'm sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot in that moment...

  I stared wistfully out the elevator doors as they slowly ground to a close once again, my last view of freedom fading slowly away, and my urge to break out in a run, to lunge from the elevator car and make a break for it before things became too stifling for me, was one that I knew, despite my most burning wishes, I would have to suppress. God help me, as bad as my skin was prickling, as hotly as my ears were burning, and as clearly as the sweat was beginning to pour down along my chest and spine, I knew I could get through this in short enough order- I just needed to get my head back out of places where it didn't belong, and believe that things were going to be okay.

  The elevator doors closed, sealing the three of us inside together. I was now trapped with the two men, and my blood pressure was in the vicinity of bursting through the ceiling.

  We began to make our ascent, and I locked my eyes forward as the elevator lunged upward, messing with my stomach as it generally had a habit of doing. I closed my eyes, then, only as long as I thought I could manage to do so without calling attention to myself. I inhaled a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and gradually released it back out, not daring to look to either side of me, and my heart beating faster, faster, faster, with the passing of each minute.

  I knew... I knew damn well, in fact, that I was making entirely too massive a deal out of all this. There was honestly no sense in it. I was being childish, ridiculous, making a mountain out of a mole hill, as the hackneyed but wholly appropriate saying went. I mean God damn, what was this, really? A thirty second or so elevator ride up a few floors of a building, up, up, up, up, sandwiched between two men, two professional men, and co-workers, no less- what the hell could I possibly be imagining that would make this all feel like the end of the world? What, seriously, did I envision happening that could spell the unquestioned ruining of my day, and possibly my life? Was I really that melodramatic, really that self absorbed? I was being so God damn foolish....

  Or was I?

  These might have been “just two men,” but they weren't just “any two men.” These were two men whose conflicting roles in my life
could cause things to become very complicated for me should their worlds collide, as they seemed to be doing in spite of me at this very point in time. It may have only been an elevator ride to the top, but it was the proximity of these two, the bringing together of these forces in my life, that caused me to tremble and to sweat with uncertainty.

  I continued to breathe, to steady myself as the elevator groaned its way skyward, and from the corner of my eye I proceeded to consider both men, to contemplate them- not that this would reasonably mitigate my anxiety in the least, really, but at least it was something to occupy me, keep me from getting too dizzy.

  Mr. Johnson, unfortunately, caught me eyeballing him from the corner of his periphery, and smiled at me in reaction. I had no choice but to return his grin uncomfortably, sweat beginning to trickle down my forehead as I did so, until at last he turned away, and I breathed a slight, nasal sigh of relief. I was more careful this time around, then, as I chanced yet another glance in his direction from the corner of my eye, giving him a good once over, and reflecting on the role he'd played in my corporate life up to this point (not to mention other areas of my life that I would be best not to dwell upon right here and now, honestly.)

  Mr. Johnson was a bit older than me- quite a bit older, in fact. Technically speaking, he was old enough to have been my father, although that wasn't to say he was a geezer, or anything like that. I was in my late twenties at the time, and he somewhere in the vicinity of middle age. He had salt and pepper hair, and a suave, sophisticated demeanor- like I said, hardly any sort of old geezer. I mean hell, if it was any indication, he practically ran this damn company from the very top, with an immense strength, a stamina, a drive that any of the firm's younger employees genuinely tended to lack. And God, was he handsome...