by Penny Lam
My eyes narrow. “Tell you what, Buck?”
His face, usually creased with mirth, is like stone. Those green-now-dark eyes are rocky. Penetrating. “Whether you killed them, Shep.”
There’s nothing else he could have said, no punch that would have hit harder, no knife that could’ve cut deeper than those words. I’d always hoped, you know? That his standing by me, regardless of the police taking me into jail and questioning me, or the folks around the park murmuring loud enough we could hear, that this question didn’t matter to him. That he knew the answer already, because he knew me.
“And if I did? If I murdered my parents, then what?”
My muscles are tense and I’m ready to run. Go in the house, grab my keys, get in the Camaro, roar off and never turn back.
Buck doesn’t give me a chance. In an instant, thick, muscled arms are wrapped around my shoulders, pinning me to him. Our chests are pressed together, hard pecs against hard pecs and the heat of him, Jesus, it’s snaking into me. Buck pulls me tight into his embrace, his lips resting on my neck.
It catches me off guard. My fists are squeezing with the impulse to punch a man and the immediate response of my cock to his touch. Always, when he’s touched me before, we’ve had Vickie there. A buffer. A bandaid. An excuse and a catalyst and a necessary component all wrapped in one.
“What are you doing?” The words tumble from my lips, but they’re half plea, half whisper.
“I don’t care if you did it, Shep.” The brush of his mouth against my skin sends jolts of pleasure through me. Breathing deep, I force my fingers to unfurl. They find their way to his waist. “I care about protecting you. Protecting Vickie and us. So I wanted to warn her, and yeah, I wish you’d tell me what happened that night, but not so I can cast you away if I don’t like it. So I can help keep you with me.”
It’s like I’m standing in one of those waterfalls they show on the travel channels Vickie likes so much. The huge ones, all white foam and crushing power, with those men who dare to stand in the fall, beaten down by the never ending onslaught of water. Buck’s closeness, his compassion, his fucking love are eroding me. How can we feel this way for each other? What does it mean? I’m so pulled to him right now. Not a damned thing feels wrong about this embrace, but it’s overwhelming and-- “I don’t know what to do,” I admit.
He releases his embrace a little but doesn’t step away. Somewhere in my mind I know how dangerous it is for us to be like this. Together, in the low yellow porch lamp, a fucking spotlight on things this park could never understand. But I’ve needed something-- I’ve needed this, this right here-- for so long and didn’t even know it. I’m not backing away now that it’s here just because of some peeping assholes who should learn to mind their own trailers.
Buck’s hand cups my cheek. His thumb slides over my cheekbone and my skin burns beneath his touch. Then his mouth is there, crashing into mine, before I have the common sense to stop him.
Kissing Buck isn’t like kissing Vickie. With Vickie, it’s all me guiding her soft lips, plundering her wet mouth with my tongue. She yields to me. Buck does not yield. Our kiss is bruising. It’s a battle with teeth and tongue. There’s no elegance, no seduction, just raw intensity.
My fingers wind into his disheveled hair, and I’m thankful he keeps it so shaggy and long because when I fist it he groans. It hits me that there’s silence then. No dishes or activity in the kitchen. Even the song of the cicadas seems softer. Muted.
In Buck’s arms, I feel exposed.
Breaking the kiss, I shove him away, and it slams into me what we just did. There was the two of us. Buck had just dragged me, and my hard on, across the line that we’d been dancing around. If Vickie wants to leave, or he does, or we fight, or who the fuck knows-- if anything happened before that kiss, we could have stayed friends.
There’s no friendship anymore. Or there is, but it’s saturated with something else. It’s tainted. Stained with the passion I felt in that kiss. The way it felt so right and natural. We’ve crossed the line, and it terrifies me. Because I can’t lose them, not like that.
When I glance at the trailer I see Vickie in the doorway, her mouth dropped, and the trickle of fear I was feeling becomes a torrent. She said she liked it when Buck touched me, but two men kissing? That’s different. That’s not done around here.
I wait for her shock to turn to disgust.
“Don’t stop on account of me,” she murmurs, voice low and husky. Buck laughs and grabs my hand, pulling me inside.
“Stop dragging your feet, Shep. You don’t want to leave us hanging, do you?”
I’m overthinking it. Worrying. It’s what I do. But Buck doesn’t know how to worry, not really, and Vickie’s too young for me to want her to. So it’s up to me.
“Please, Shep,” Vickie whispers, and it shuts my worrying down. “Come inside. Come home.”
So I do.
Buck
My hands are in her hair. My mouth is on his mouth. Her hands are on me. His hands are on me.
It’s fucking bliss.
This is beyond anything I could have hoped for or expected. It isn’t like I’ve had these secret feelings for Shep that are just now coming out. There’s been the connection between us, but it’s as if I get to see him in a new light-- through Vickie’s eyes. And I see the way he looks at her and at me.
He’s strong. Strong enough to stay cool and confident in a town that thinks the worst of him. He’s steadfast. He works hard; his eyes on his dreams. And damn, but he’s protective. He’ll do anything to protect what he cares about.
So I’m not thinking about how, ever since Vickie walked into our trailer and our lives, I feel different. How I need both of them to make me feel whole.
What I’m thinking about is how good his tongue feels in my mouth.
Vickie drops down in front of us. She pulls my cock out and I hear Shep’s zipper, too. Then her fist is around my base and Shep and I groan together, so I know she’s got his dick in her other hand. When I glance down, I catch her blond hair and pink tongue before she’s licking me, licking him, her fists pumping both of us.
Shep’s hand grips my shoulder, and I meet his gaze. His gray eyes are hooded with lust; his dark hair tumbling into his face. It’s been awhile since he had me cut it and it’s getting long. I like it. The longer hair complements his beard, making him look less menacing.
My hand cups his cheek for only a moment before I lean in to kiss him again. We crash together, still doing battle. There’s hesitation and there’s desire and they feud. Our kissing is not delicate. But it feels so fucking good.
The roughness of his beard heightens my desire. Vickie’s tongue does a twirl around the head of my cock and I groan into Shep’s mouth. He rips away. “How’s this going to work, Buck? Kissing is one thing, but I’m not ready for--”
I kiss him once more to shut him up. I know. I’m not interested in that, either. We are a trifecta, and we need her. She’s the keystone to this whole damned thing.
“I know. Both of you get in the bedroom.”
Shep helps Vickie up, and we’re heading toward our room, shedding clothes as we go. He pins her to the wall, kissing her deep, and I take a moment to admire how he looks, the muscles in his back and shoulders taut and defined. We’ve watched each other fuck Vickie before, and damn if watching him make her come is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But this moment isn’t for taking turns.
It’s about each of us taking what’s ours. Together.
Using my hands, I guide them, letting them kiss and suck and moan until they tumble onto the bed together.
“Shep,” I bark. “Get to work on those titties.”
Vickie gasps and I know her perfect nipples are being pinched and sucked. Reaching into the side drawer, I grab the lube. No more Crisco for us. We might be rednecks, but we’re not heathens.
Easing onto the bed next to them, Shep rolls off her to make room for me. Vickie’s on her back between us. I grab the boob clos
est to me and give it a squeeze. God, I love her tits. The fleshy globe fills my hand and then some. She’s so damned responsive.
That pink nipple is tight as a diamond. I can’t resist. Sucking it into my mouth, my tongue drags across it. Vickie’s fingers wrap themselves into my hair and she holds me close, encouraging my suckling. Shep’s sucking her other titty and it feels so, so good to be sharing this with him.
I keep licking and biting while my hand travels south. As if picking up my cue, Shep’s hand joins me. He starts fingering Vickie’s pussy while I rub her juicy, swollen clit. Little Vickie starts shouting, her hips bucking as she comes from our fingers. If she thinks she’s done, she’s crazy. We haven’t even started.
“Shep, lick that pussy clean. Make her come all over your face.”
“Buck, I can’t come again, not this soon--”
“Hush it, Vic, or you’ll get a spanking and an orgasm.” She whimpers at my threat and lets those fleshy thighs fall apart. Shep dives in, licking her pussy. I take a moment to watch her gorgeous face-- eyes shut tight and perfect, full lips pursed in an “o” of pleasure.
We’re the luckiest sons of bitches in this park. Hell, in this town.
My fingers sink into the flesh of her thigh and I hoist it up on my shoulder. Shep leans to make room for me, but his tongue never stops working her. The air is filled with Vickie’s sounds. Whimpers. Mewls. She’s fucking keening at one point, and my dick is so hard it throbs.
Not yet, though. Soon.
Using Shep’s tongue and her juices, I slip my fingers to Vickie’s ass. That tight little ring squeezes, but I ease a finger in anyway.
“Oh God, Buck,” Vickie screams out.
“Be a good girl and let me finger your asshole, baby girl. I need to get you ready.”
She’s biting her lip, but she relaxes. It’s tough, working around Shep, who’s so into eating her he doesn’t give a shit what I do. We’re hooked on her pussy, so I’m not even mad. I slowly work my finger in and out of her. I time my small thrusts with her gasps and shudders. She’s close.
I’ve always been jealous of a woman’s ability to come over and over. But, given the choice between experiencing it myself and being the one to make a woman come multiple times? I’d pick making her come. It’s the sexiest thing to see Vickie come undone. It’s powerful to know I’m the one who did it to her, or Shep. It’s the most satisfying fucking thing in the world to take care of her body.
Another finger slips into her ass and she convulses, coming all over Shep’s face. He’s got an arm wrapped around her other thigh, pinning her to the mattress, so he can swallow all her juices.
Vickie’s pale cheeks are flushed red. The blond hair is turning dark, stained with sweat. I love how her body trembles and convulses, sending ripples of pleasure through all her curves.
“Lay on the bed, Shep.”
He hauls himself up, wiping off his face and giving me a look of pure contentment. I know better, though, because his cock is pointed toward the ceiling. He’s like me, so hard it hurts, needing to bury his cock in her sweet heat.
When he’s reclined on the bed, I help Vickie up. She’s weak, still shaking from coming so hard back to back. Sorry, little girl, but there’s still work to do.
She knows what’s coming and lets me help her straddle Shep. I reach under her, grabbing his cock. His shout is so sexy that I almost come, his cock twitching in my hand. We’re both so close.
I guide him into her sopping wet pussy, reveling in the hisses they both make as they connect. Then I crack the bottle of lube. Because it’s happening.
“Vickie, lay down on Shep, baby. Show me your gorgeous ass.” She complies, her hips rocking slightly. What a greedy little girl she is. I fucking love it.
I lube her back door and my cock. Then I’m at her entrance, pushing in.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” She’s made tighter by Shep. Inch by inch I claim her ass, listening to every hitch of her breath, every groan Shep makes. I’m so close to coming it’s embarrassing.
Then it’s done. I’m in all the way, my balls nestled with Shep’s. The thin membrane inside her is all that separates him from me. We start to move together, slow. It takes no time to find our rhythm because we were born for this.
We were born for each other.
In an old, beat up trailer, in the middle of a small coal mining town in podunk America, we come together and make the skies burn.
Vickie
Life used to be a rut for me. Every day the same. Wake up, go to school, find somewhere to do homework that wasn’t home because Mama was working. Eat supper and go to sleep. Dream of graduation. Dream of leaving the park. Dream of something better.
Now two of my three dreams had come true. No day could be a rut, not with Shep and Buck. Our love and need for each other made each moment new and exciting. For the first time in my life, I felt cherished.
We don’t say it, but love is building between us. Not just craving the touch and the taste of the others. Real love. It makes each day better than before, because I can fall into it over and over.
So it surprised me when, right before Christmas break, I received an email from my community college advisor asking me to come in for a meeting. The shock came from the fact that, in the midst of the wonder of my relationship with these two men, I had completed my first semester of community college.
“Hey Buck?” I hear him come in my work room. When I swivel my chair to look at him, my heart skips a beat like it always does when I see either of them without their shirts. Buck’s standing in low slung jeans that need to be washed, although I’m not sure how many more times I can wash them before they fall apart. There’s thin spots and rips all over them, and the blue is faded on the left where his sizable package sits. His hair is long now, the blond shagging around his collarbones. Both of my boys need haircuts soon.
“Yeah, baby girl?”
“Do you think you could drop me off at the bus station tomorrow?”
I wonder if he even knows he’s frowning. We don’t talk about it, but I tend to not leave the house much. Now that I’ve been living with two men for a long time, I generally want to avoid the stares. And there’re lots of stares. Either Buck or Shep will usually take me out to the next town over for groceries just to avoid them, though I don’t think they care-- they do it for me.
“Just borrow my car. Shep can give me a ride to work.” He says it like giving me the keys to his beloved truck is nothing. My heart twinges at how considerate he is. This is what makes living with them feel so right. They take care of me, truly and completely. No questions asked. No tit for tat.
But there’s a problem, and it has me blushing. “I don’t know how to drive.” Mama never had a car, and I never had a daddy around to teach me. It was take the bus or ride my bike.
He swoops into the room, crossing the floor and catching my face between his big, rough hands. “I’ll just have to teach you then.” His thumbs stroke my cheekbones. “Let me call and let Joe know I’ll be late.”
The breath leaves me as he does. Say what you will about Buck and Shep, but they have admirable work ethics. They might drink too much beer (and leave the cans everywhere). They might joke rough and cuss. But when it comes to working, they work hard. So Buck going in late to work is a big deal.
It strikes me then that he’s just promised to teach my how to drive a car. Me! A car! Delight ripples through me and I dash to our room to get dressed. I keep laundry going pretty much constantly because it’s hand wash or go to the laundromat on my bicycle with a load of clothes balancing on the handles. My jeans are folded. I snatch them off the bed and pull them on. It’s a squeeze to button them, but I know the boys like how they make my ass look.
Buck’s in the shower and I’m sore tempted to peek in on him, but my appointment with my advisor is tomorrow, which means I can’t dawdle with learning today.
All my shirts are on the line outside. Borrowing from the dirty pile, I pull on one of Shep’s
white (or what was once white) t-shirts and head out to pull in the dry clothes.
It’s cold outside, and the t-shirt does me no favors. My nipples are so tight they hurt, and I cross the back grassy area to where our clothes are hung in bare feet that sting with each step. We’re in the South, so no snow yet, but it won’t be long. The air is crisp and clean, so that’s how I know.
Humming to myself, I strip clothes from the line, hoping singing will help the task be over soon so I can run back in and put on wooly socks and boots. Instead, the humming hides the footsteps behind me.
“I can’t believe you’re still whorin’ around with these two boys.” The smell of cigarettes hits me at the same time as the words. I keep folding laundry, ignoring my mama. “Those nipples are out there like fuckin’ headlights, Vickie. Two men ain’t enough? You gotta try and get the whole park between your legs?”
“No, Mama, that’s your job.” My heart is pounding, and I can’t believe I just said those words out loud. I look at her to see if my words have any effect. They must have, because her hand is whipping through the air, slapping me hard, before I can prepare for the blow.
She throws her cigarette at my bare feet and it bounces off exposed skin, the sting of the ash and cherry stark against the numbing flesh. “You ungrateful little cunt. I fed you, I let you go to school, and I put a roof over your head. I did all that on my back for you, and you have the nerve to judge me for it? When you’re fucking two men at the same time?”
The little girl in me who lived with Mama wants to cry and grovel. Apologize. Do and say anything to get a glimmer of the love I wish she felt for me. It’s surprising, though. When I lived with Mama, I was more independent than I am now. I took care of myself, cooking and cleaning and making sure my homework was done in time. Yet I was so scared of making her unhappy that I hid inside of myself. Now, in the trailer with the boys, I’m kind of pampered. I still cook and clean, but they make all the decisions. They tell me what they want to eat, or how they want something done. They spank me if I cuss or make a “B” on a test. With them, I can just let go and trust.