Beautiful Losers (Modern Erotic Classics)

by Remittance Girl

  Jean pulled me down beside him on the floor and poured me a snifter of something. ‘Poire?’ he said, passing me the glass.

  The harsh pear brandy warmed my chest as I swallowed and lit a little fire all the way down to my tummy. I feared it would also hit my bloodstream pretty quick.

  ‘Okay, so, here’s a fork for you.’ Jean held out a long, thin, two-pronged thing. ‘And there’s fruit: strawberries, raspberries, orange segments and banana. Take off the shirt.’

  ‘Sorry?’ I said, taking the weird little fork.

  Opening his kimono, sliding it off, Jean was completely naked beneath it except for the smears of chocolate. ‘Shirt off. You can’t play with food fully clothed.’

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow, and dipped a long white finger into the fondant pot. It came out dripping with chocolate. He leaned across the table and offered it to Jean, who engulfed it with obscene relish.

  They made me smile. Suddenly I didn’t know why I had been so worried about coming here. The brandy might have had something to do with it, but watching them do that for each other just made me melt. God, I was lucky to know these men. Lucky to be with them.

  When Jean finished cleaning off Seb’s finger, he glowered at me. ‘Come on, Shirakins. Get naked.’

  I climbed over to the other side of the coffee table, glass in hand, and lay down on a pile of pillows. ‘If I say something, would you both promise to listen and not be upset?’ I looked from Sebastian to Jean and back. ‘Seriously.’

  ‘Promise,’ agreed Sebastian. He looked over at Jean and something passed between them.

  ‘Sure. I promise,’ echoed Jean.

  ‘I’m tired. I’m emotionally exhausted. I don’t want to play with food. I just want to cuddle up on these pillows and watch you get chocolate coated. That’s what I want more than anything.’

  Jean scowled. ‘But we brought home the chocolate so that you could . . .’

  ‘Jean!’ said Sebastian. It was short and sharp and full of business. ‘Don’t.’

  I sighed in deep contentment and leaned back against the pillows, watching them in the flickering candlelight.

  The presence of the sheets on the carpet became clear. Sebastian lay Jean down on his front, and straddled his hips. He speared one of the orange bits, dipped it in deepest part of the pot and let hot drips of the chocolate land in little spatters all over Jean’s back. Jean responded with sounds that might have been either pain or pleasure. The fruit, it seemed, was not intended for consumption; it was employed to good purpose as a paintbrush to slide through the chocolate puddles on Jean’s back.

  The game then progressed to Sebastian removing all the chocolate off Jean, using only his mouth. For all his strategizing and manipulation and cleverness, Sebastian did have a weakness. He was a sensualist. Watching him lick and suck up the smears and puddles and drips of chocolate was to witness someone who could completely lose themselves to taste and sensation. He was an extremely generous lover.

  After assuring himself that Jean’s back was clean, he flipped him over, and smiled lasciviously at Jean’s very vertical cock. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is going to take a lot of chocolate.’

  Spearing a strawberry, he stirred it around the pot, digging down to where the hottest chocolate was and, testing the temperature on his finger first, held the coated fruit above Jean’s cock, letting a thin ribbon drizzle over the head. Jean twitched and gasped.

  ‘Too hot?’ he asked, his voice all innocence.

  ‘Too fucking hot,’ moaned Jean. But his meaning was clear.

  A few applications from the fondue pot, and Jean’s dick was coated with warm, liquid chocolate.

  Now I understood why Jean had complained when I said I was tired. Now I understood what the chocolate was for. I cringed. I was such an ungrateful cow.

  So, when Sebastian looked over at me, and crooked a finger, I didn’t refuse. I thought, okay. Here comes the lesson. And I really do like chocolate. But instead, he just dragged one of the bigger pillows next to Jean’s hip and patted it. ‘Lie down, Shirakins. Put your head here, and pay attention.’

  I giggled, finished off the last of the Poire, and did as instructed. What I had was a view of the living room, partially obstructed by a massive, chocolate-coated cock. Until Sebastian nudged Jean’s legs apart and knelt between them.

  Jean peered down at us and laughed. ‘Oh my God! It’s Christmas!’

  ‘Ignore him for a bit,’ said Sebastian. ‘Lesson number one: giving head is not fucking. You’re never going to get as much friction, so don’t even bother thinking about it like that. Blow jobs – good ones – are about sensation, for the giver and the receiver. I’m not talking about a quick suck through a glory hole: it’s not really the blow job that gets you off there, it’s the risk. Are you following?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered. I wasn’t following, in truth, but it didn’t seem to matter. Why hadn’t I ever noticed just how unbearably handsome Sebastian was?

  ‘Lesson 2: lips, tongue, teeth, the roof of your mouth and the entrance to your throat. All different textures – all different tools. Watch.’

  He slipped out his tongue, forming the tip into a definite point and, starting from the base of the underside of Jean’s cock, he licked a thin path all the way up to the head. I watched a drift of chocolate sauce build on the end of his tongue. Sebastian looked at me, swallowed it, and grinned. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ I felt the blood creeping up my neck.

  With his thumb and forefinger, he delicately held Jean’s cock at the base and laved the whole head of it with the flat of his tongue, taking up the chocolate and devouring it. ‘Still with me?’

  ‘Yessss!’ whispered Jean.

  I nodded.

  Sebastian opened his mouth and lowered it over Jean’s cockhead. I noticed that he was careful to hold his lips in a way that completely covered his teeth. He let his lips form a seal, just below the head, and did something I couldn’t see, but was obviously very effective. Jean’s hips twitched and I was pretty sure I saw his cock actually swell a bit. Sebastian’s cheeks hollowed a little as he sucked, and then he drew himself away.

  ‘So far, so good?’

  I propped myself up onto my elbow. ‘What did you do with your tongue when you had his head in your mouth?’

  ‘Ah. Boy clit,’ he said and grinned. ‘Scoot around a bit. See the place on the underside where the head meets the shaft? That’s the most nerve rich part of most men’s cocks. Some are kind of dead there, but then some women don’t have very sensitive clits either. Usually, though, it’s nicely reactive. And just like a woman’s clit, you can’t be too rough with it or it gets oversensitized. So, onwards?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ I said, snuggling back down to my vantage position on the pillow.

  ‘No more talking for a bit, or poor Jean will go insane.’

  I smiled and nodded.

  After that, Sebastian went to work. He edged his mouth all the way down around Jean’s cock, until his lips were pressed to the base, pulled up in long, even strokes, sucking all the way up, until the head was almost out of his mouth, and then plunged back down. Every so often, he changed his technique, pulling up without sucking, letting his teeth trail lightly up the shaft. At one point, he engulfed the whole of Jean’s cock and I watched him move on just the last inch or so, swallowing as he did, and breathing through his nose.

  There was probably a lot more to learn but, very soon after, Jean, who’d been getting progressively more vocal to the point of screaming, arching his hips and begging, finally came. But even without the noises or the movement, I think Sebastian could tell exactly how close to orgasm Jean was.

  For the first time, I realized that giving head was having extraordinary power over someone else’s pleasure, if they’d let you. The other thing I noticed was that Sebastian enjoyed the sensation of Jean coming in his mouth. It wasn’t just a matter of ‘well, that’s a job well done’ or a ‘oh, good, honey, you came’ sort of thing. The way he sucked Je
an’s cock as it flooded into his mouth made it absolutely clear that he physically got off on the sensation of it. Of course, the erection tenting his pants was another clue.

  When he finished, he grabbed my head with his chocolate-covered fingers and kissed me, spilling Jean’s cum into my mouth: part chocolate, part Jean. There must have been knowledge transfer there, because I shuddered as I tasted the creamy texture of it, and I sucked Sebastian’s tongue with wicked abandon.

  As we stopped kissing, Sebastian gave me a strange, lopsided grin. ‘Next time he gets hard, it’s your turn.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  SHORN

  You can’t let runny, premium dark chocolate go to waste; it’s a sin up there with lying, coveting your neighbour’s ass and murder.

  Jean, still flushed, propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Well! I just want to publicly acknowledge that I am willing to be used for educational purposes any time the need arises.’

  I wasn’t feeling tired any more, just very, very horny. ‘So, you could lie back down and I could hone my skills?’

  He winked at me and shook his head. ‘Let’s just say it will take a little while for the need to arise again. However –’ he leveled his gaze at Sebastian ‘– you have very little chocolate on you anywhere. That needs to be rectified immediately.’

  ‘Actually, no,’ said Sebastian. ‘She has no chocolate on her anywhere, but there’s a small problem.’

  ‘What?’ said Jean.

  ‘Yeah, what?’ I echoed.

  ‘Shirakins, don’t take this the wrong way,’ said Sebastian, smirking, ‘but I’m not sucking chocolate out of your pubic hair.’

  Okay, I did take it the wrong way. Everyone should be able to take criticism, but there was something about the attack on my nether region that hurt. It was also strange that, up until that moment, I hadn’t noticed that no one else had any. Eww, they shaved. How the hell did that work? I stared at Jean’s groin and wondered how one navigated around all the curves. Anyway, I had no intention of looking like some oiled-up amateur porn babe – all that glistening pudenda, and the little spots where the hairs got ingrown. No. No. I liked my pubic hair.

  Jean wore an expression that could only be described as manic. ‘We could wax her?’

  ‘Fuck no! No one is putting hot wax on my vulva!’ I said defensively.

  ‘We have to shave her. It’s quicker anyway.’ Sebastian sounded like he was talking about a poodle.

  ‘No you bloody don’t!’ I was up on my feet and aiming to lock myself in the bedroom as fast as I possibly could, without knocking anything over or tripping over Jean.

  Not quite fast enough. Sebastian caught me around the waist and heaved me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I screamed.

  ‘Don’t panic, Shirakins. You’ll like it. It feels good.’

  ‘Before or after you slip and perform a clitoridectomy by mistake?’ I raised my head. Jean was pulling on his kimono and following us. I reached out and grabbed the doorframe that led into the bedroom. ‘Tell him no, Jean. I mean it. No!’

  ‘Well, in this case, I happen to agree with him. Anyway, have you ever known Sebastian to take no for an answer?’

  The slap on the ass that was so hard I gasped and let go of the frame. ‘Ow! Fuck you!’ I spat, staring at Sebastian’s upside down back. I looked back up at Jean. ‘You liar! That’s bullshit. You don’t let him fuck your ass!’

  Jean tilted his head, blinked and prevaricated. ‘It’s just a little personal grooming, Shira! Don’t be so melodramatic.’

  Sebastian dumped me onto the waterbed with such force it winded me. For a moment, I lay there, blinking, trying to catch a breath. He had my jeans undone and was tugging with considerable violence. By the time I was breathing normally, I could hear the water running in the bath.

  I glared up at Sebastian who was undoing the buttons on my shirt. ‘Why are you suddenly being so nasty to me?’

  The smile was cold, considering that I had been sucking his tongue only fifteen minutes earlier. ‘Nasty to you?’ he whispered. ‘You mean “nasty” like what you said to me at my place?’

  ‘But . . .’ My mind raced, replaying the last part of the afternoon before I took off for practice, not that I’d forgotten it. I’d just avoided thinking about it. ‘But you didn’t mean it, Sebastian.’

  ‘Scissors, razor, some – mm-m – very expensive shaving cream and baby lotion!’ Jean called from the bathroom. ‘Is there anything else I’m forgetting?’

  Yanking me up by my arm, which was going to leave a bruise for sure, Sebastian pushed his face against my head. ‘You know very little about me, Shirakins.’ His voice had that sort of icy calm to it – the kind I was pretty sure serial killers had. ‘Now, are you going to go along with this nicely? Or do I need to keep hauling you around?’

  I heard Jean shut the bath taps off. ‘Oh, nice and hot! Just the way we want it,’ he yelled.

  Sebastian didn’t ease his grip on my arm. Tears pricked at my eyes. It had nothing to do with the shaving. I couldn’t even remember why I was making such a fuss about it. It was the other stuff and the way he was behaving. ‘You’re scaring me.’

  The fingers around my upper arm loosened their grasp. ‘Well, that makes two of us. I guess we’re even,’ he said. ‘Come on, this won’t take long.’

  There were all sorts of instruments neatly laid out on a towel, on the lid of the toilet cistern. It looked like Jean had been prepping for minor surgery. In a way, I guessed that was what was about to happen. And I couldn’t believe that I was going to let them do something so intimate. Why was shaving my pubic hair so much more intimate than a sex act? It wasn’t rational, I knew, but we’re not always rational creatures. Then I thought of my conversation with Lindsey. Getting past all the rough parts, she’d said. Was this a ‘rough part’? Was I so petty that I’d make this a sticking point?

  I crossed my arms and eyed them both. ‘Okay. How do I do this?’

  ‘What, no last minute kicking and screaming?’ Jean did look a little surprised.

  ‘No. You don’t like my pubic hair? Fine. I’ll get rid of it. Tell me what I have to do.’

  My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy-as-hell friend smiled. There was a little relief in the smile, too. ‘Oh, you don’t have to do it on your own. We’ll help. Just get in the bath first. We need to soften up those follicles.’

  ‘I can do it by myself. It’s not like I don’t trim, ‘I said, stepping into the tub and hissing at the scalding heat. I lowered my ass into the water, teeth clenched. When I’d managed to get all the way in, I gasped. ‘Damn, that’s hot.’

  It bothered me that they were both looking down at me with grins on their faces, like it was funny. Hadn’t we been in the same situation about six hours previously? Well at least Jean wasn’t pissing himself laughing this time.

  ‘How long do I need to soak for?’ The heat was making my skin prickle. I could feel sweat oozing from every pore. I’d read somewhere that the Japanese were big fans of super-hot baths. They could keep it.

  Sebastian got to his knees and leaned his chin on his forearms on the ledge of the tub. ‘Maybe fifteen minutes? You’ve got pretty thick hair.’ He reached out and combed his fingers through the hair on side of my head. His eyes met mine, as if he wanted to say something completely different, but I couldn’t read it at all.

  Jean huddled down beside him. ‘You do! Nice on the head, but thoroughly inconvenient anywhere else.’ He gave me a cute little icky-poo grimace.

  The minutes ticked by. No one said a word. It was like they were both watching a kettle boil. I grabbed the soap and started washing, just to make the time go faster.

  ‘Where’s the best place to do this?’ Sebastian asked Jean.

  ‘She could sit on the edge of the bathtub.’

  ‘Or we could put her on the counter, that would be easier.’

  ‘Definitely.’ There was a creepy tone of excitement in Jean’s voice.

  Sebastian nodded. ‘Is this going to
be your first close encounter with in-your-face vagina?’

  Jean giggled. ‘Since my mother pumped me out? I guess so. I’ve seen them in magazines, of course. And there was sex ed.’ He shivered dramatically.

  ‘Hey!’ I yelled. ‘You’re talking about me like I’m a poodle again. Stop it.’ I grabbed the sides of the tub and hauled myself up, feeling a little lightheaded from the heat of the water. ‘I told you both, I’ll do it myself.’

  Sebastian grabbed a towel off the rack, draped it over my shoulders and lifted me out of the tub, straight onto the bathroom counter. ‘Not a good idea, you might cut yourself.’

  ‘Pubic cuts are nasty,’ muttered Jean. ‘Very nasty.’

  I stared at him. Why was everyone making inane conversation? This was thoroughly creepy. ‘Jean, you don’t even like pussy. It scares you. Why do you want to do this?’

  His gaze flickered for a moment, like I’d caught him at something. ‘Well . . . I’m getting used to it, you know. I still don’t like them as a generality, but this one’s attached to you. I figure this is like systematic desensitization therapy.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ I couldn’t think of anything better to say. ‘And you?’ I asked Sebastian.

  He gave me a bland smile. ‘Me? I’m desensitized already. And I like it, as you know.’

  ‘But not women. Just pussy?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ he sighed. He pushed my legs open, but I eased them closed again. He turned to Jean. ‘Should we trim a little first, or do you think this is short enough to shave?’

  Jean shook his head. ‘No, we should definitely trim first. Get it down as short as we can and then take the razor to it.’

  ‘Okay, then. Scoot to the edge and lean back against the mirror.’ But Sebastian didn’t wait for me to comply; he just grabbed my hips and pulled me forward. ‘Comb and scissors,’ he demanded, wrenching my knees apart wide, this time with more force.

  Fuck it, I thought, leaning back. He was doing this to humiliate me, and Jean was letting him. Well, it only worked if I could be humiliated. I crossed my arms and stared down at him as he combed between my legs and started snipping.