Menage A Trios

by Jennifer O'Donnell

  Now Zoe is putty in my hands. I pull off her pyjama bottoms and drop them at her feet, and then I kiss my way down her body toward the part of her that’s aching to be loved. She spreads her legs and lifts them, and I get down on my knees. As I bury my face in her, she places her legs over my shoulders, almost bracing herself for what’s to come. One thing I love doing is eating pussy, and Zoe can vouch for that. I run my tongue between her lips, letting her juices spill over the tip, and then stop at her clitoris. I tease it, flicking my tongue over it, drawing the pleasure from Zoe’s mouth in little gasps, working hard to give her one last night of passion, of love. She grabs my hair and thrusts me at her, and I obey, swallowing her and tasting her. As she starts to come in my mouth, I feel my own wetness seeping through my pants. My cock throbs and pulses, pushing at the material. I need to be inside her. I need to feel her hot wetness smother me and carry me to the gates of heaven. I hold her in my mouth until her shudders subside and she draws a long breath. Then with one last lingering kiss, I rise up and stand watching her, my hands at my sides. Without pausing to blink, Zoe reaches out and attacks my belt, ripping it free of my pants with a sharp crack. In a matter of moments, my pants are on the floor. I stand tall and resolute, powerful and willing. Zoe grasps my shaft in her hand and leans forward, flicking her tongue over me. But I don’t want her mouth. I pull away and drop into a crouch, quickly picking her up in my arms. Her breasts bounce in my face and I caress them with my tongue. I feel myself brush against her thigh and a bolt of intense hunger crackles through my body. Placing her on her back, I move forward and slide over her flesh until I find the welcoming warmth of her pussy. Then I gratefully enter her. It’s hot, and she beckons me in, deeper and deeper until I can’t go any further. We hold for a moment, and I stare into her eyes. She’s so beautiful, and so desirable. I can’t believe I am leaving her, but I know this feeling will pass. Like I said, it’s not about the sex; it’s the stagnation and the limitation. I start to fuck her now, pulling out of her slowly all the way to my tip, and then driving forward again. She starts sucking her breasts, lapping at the nipples. She knows I love it, but she rarely does it, unless she’s angry. I moan now, an animal lust driving me to thrust a little harder. Zoe moans too as she licks her nipples, and I feel a flood of warmth coat my shaft. She’s coming. Soon I can’t thrust; she’s so tightly wrapped around me. I feel the first tender tendrils of orgasm reaching out, stroking my balls, but I can’t come yet. Zoe’s wound up tight, her back arched up off the table, hips crushing me, breasts in my face. She finally lets out the squeal I know has been building, and as she shudders and comes over me, I pump faster, enjoying the liquid meeting between our bodies. I cry out now too, groaning with every honey-coated spurt of pleasure.

  Then we enjoy that moment of bliss that comes after the thunderous meeting of two bodies. I feel good for a time, maybe for a few seconds, but then it dawns on me.

  What if Zoe thinks we’re back together now? It’s childish, but adults are childish, no matter how much we might deny it. What if she thinks this is make-up sex, not breakup? There’s only one thing for it.

  I’ll have to sleep with her again, and again. When she falls asleep, I’ll pack some bags and go quietly. I really don’t like hurting her, and leaving her like this, but it’s not like I just made up my mind. This has been a long time coming. I quit my job today, and I’m about to quit this relationship. Once all loose ends are tied, I’m gone.

  Lifting her, I carry Zoe into the bedroom and place her on her stomach, on the bed.

  It’s going to be a long but joyous night. I’m not so sure about tomorrow.

  *****

  I’m out. I’m free. This morning, I snuck out of the apartment we have shared for almost two years, with my most treasured belongings. There was no drama, no fight, or tears. As Zoe slept, I left my old life behind. As I took the elevator to the bottom floor I felt a part of me being ripped away, left behind. It was both sad and elating. I booked a ticket for Denver, Colorado before we had the talk, and so I’d already prepared my insurance, just in case. The only thing available at such short notice was a night flight, leaving at one thirty in the morning. I snapped it up regardless. I’m hungry to leave, and live for the first time in years. Though there is a small part of me that fears I might be doing the wrong thing, it’s a part that’s also fading away quickly. Zoe is strong, and she’ll get over me. Hell, after what I’ve done she should be glad she got out early. That doesn’t justify what I’ve done. I know that, but it serves as a safety net for my fragile ego. So I spend the day lounging in a park, bags and all, lying back in the sun, thinking about the mountains and the mountain air, the sheer wealth of beauty on all sides. I grew up in the country, in a little town called Gold Springs. It’s somewhere I can re-evaluate my life, and decide where to go next. I could travel the world, and lose myself in foreign cultures, and women, or I could settle in Colorado for a while.

  I’m not even going to bother making that decision now though, because I’m about to board my plane. Freedom beckons and as I near the entrance, and the smiling air hostesses, I feel like I’m shedding my old skin. I feel like I’m about to be renewed. Once I’m across the threshold, there is no turning back. Nothing can pull me back to my old life. Within half an hour I’ll be up in the clouds, my life my own once more. I find my seat, and then stow my bags. It’s just me at the moment, and I pray that it remains that way. There’s nothing worse than sleeping sitting up, especially if you drool. I take my seat by the window and shift until I’m comfortable. Then I watch the line of moving passengers, feeling a little impatient to get things under way. I want to celebrate. I want alcohol. It’s coming up one thirty in the morning, and for me the party is just getting started.

  Now those two empty seats beside me don’t look so good any more. Am I to get drunk on my own? I begin to play a game. I search the line, scanning each person until I find one I like the look of, and then will them to sit with me. A young couple approaches. I meet the eyes of the boyfriend and smile. He smiles back, then his girlfriend smiles too. They might make for a good party, but sadly, they walk on by. I’m starting to give up hope when a pair of girls walks through the door. From where I’m sitting, these girls are eights at least, and I feel the pull of desire, heavy as lead. I watch as they approach, examining them, their faces, their bodies. There’s a ravenous beast inside me now. It’s like the excitement and stress of the last few days has left me bursting with pent-up passion. Zoe ate up some of that last night, but there’s a lot more where that came from.

  Both girls are tall, about six feet in height, and I shiver at the thought of what I could do to them. The first in the line is Asian, maybe Chinese, with shoulder-length red hair. She has an air of purity about her, but when her eyes find mine I detect a hint of playfulness too. She holds my gaze for several seconds, and in that time I decide that my chances of fucking her are good, except the only problem is I’m on a plane. Her friend is a brunette with a round, full face and a mouth that makes me salivate. She looks at me, and her friend whispers something in her ear. They laugh, and I smile with them, as I move my eyes blatantly over their bodies. I barely take my eyes off them, and deep down I’m praying they sit next to me. I don’t know what we can accomplish on a plane but I don’t care. I’m free, and there’s a beast inside me, waiting to be unleashed. I feel like I’ve been woken up from a trance, and life is only just starting to begin. We were only together three years, and I had a lot of life before that, but when things aren’t good, it seems like forever.

  So now I’m living. My prayers are answered. The girls stop at my seat and glance at their tickets. “It’s this one,” the Asian girl says, casting a furtive look at the other girl, before turning to smile at me.

  I smile back and nod to the seats. She leans over and lifts the arm in the middle, and I get an eyeful of her body as her t-shirt hangs open in front of me. For a second, before she notices, I gaze longingly into the space, my eyes travelling over the moun
ds of her breasts, half exposed by their size, squeezing against the cups holding them. I just have time to admire her toned stomach before she stands up once more. As she stands her eyes, like those of a cat, meet mine again. Her eyes are so brown they are almost black.

  Then I wait as they put away their bags. I decide that I like the Asian girl more. She has this intensity to her, like she’s a smoldering flame that could burst into a full roaring fire at any moment—or with the right coaxing. I get lucky again. The Asian girl seats herself by me. As her leg brushes mine, I look down and see she’s wearing a skirt, a black knee-length skirt, and again I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to her. I begin to drink her in, whilst pretending to sit calmly and patiently. Inwardly, as they shift next to me, putting on their seat belts, I’m horny, and in need of alcohol. The Asian girl smells of flowers, a sweet smell that penetrates to my core and gets me even more riled up inside. I’m trembling all over. I feel like I’m about to have sex for the first time. If this is what freedom feels like, I don’t want it to end. No more arguments, no more curfew, no more rules. I’m playing by my rules now and I’ve never felt so fucking good.

  As soon we’re up in the air, I call the air hostess over and order three beers. When she brings them back I turn to the girls and offer them a beer each. “Care to join me for a celebration?” I figure it’s better to be upfront, at least then I have something to work with.

  They turn to look at each other, and laugh. I like the way the Asian girl laughs, with enthusiasm as if she barely needs a reason to. She turns and grabs a beer out of my hand. “Don’t mind if I do.” She’s got an American accent, so she’s not Chinese, but nonetheless, she’s got the smoking looks of a Chinese girl. I’ve never been with one. I’ve always been curious, and now, if I’m successful I might get the chance to try.

  “Cheers,” I say and clink bottles with them. I see an older couple in the middle aisle scowling at me. I tilt my bottle to them too and look away. I’m through with rules. I make my own. “Name’s Todd.”

  “Emma,” the white girl says. I try not to stare at her mouth, her lips and the hot wetness of her tongue, as she speaks—but it’s hard.

  “Annabelle,” the Asian girl says, with that same inferno blazing behind her eyes. The way she looks at me, it feels like she’s claiming me as her own, telling me with her eyes that I’m hers. Then again, I’m so aroused already that my desire is probably playing tricks with my mind. “So what are we celebrating?” she asks, tilting her head to the side, an easy smile on her face as she studies my eyes.

  I’m a little hesitant to say at first but Annabelle helps me along. “Come on, you can tell us. We are part of your party aren’t we?” She glances at her friend and they exchange a look. She turns back to me, and I see in her innocent smile that she’s actually quite devious. She uses her Asian appearance of Zen-like purity to get what she wants. If I have my way, she’ll be giving me all that I desire.

  I take a swig of beer and think on it a moment. I decide it does have its advantages, then I take another swig of beer and say, “My girlfriend and I just broke up.” Another air hostesses rolls by offering tea and coffee but the girls wave her away, and turn back to me, their lips pursing in sympathy.

  “That’s sad. I’m sorry to hear it,” Emma says, reaching out to place a comforting hand on my knee. The touch of her jolts me. She pushes on me, applying pressure, her unblinking green eyes fixed on mine. “At least you’re not alone now.”

  The heat of her palm seeps through my jeans and into my skin. My breath starts to lose its calm. I’m beginning to wonder if these girls aren’t already miles ahead of me in terms of ambition. The sexual tension is so thick in the air I can almost tongue it.

  “But who did the breaking up?” Annabelle says, a knowing smile twitching the corner of her thin lips. She reaches up and lightly strokes her hair. “Was it you?” The longer she stares at me, the bigger her smile becomes. It’s like she’s in my skull, fishing fucking answers from a computer.

  She knows already, so I tell her. “It was me. I broke up with her yesterday.” I shrug. “Our relationship wasn’t going anywhere...” I stop speaking, realising I’m saying too much. I don’t have to explain myself to them. “Anyway, I’m celebrating my newfound freedom tonight.” I raise my bottle and nod toward it. This is the moment where everything falls down—or not, and I wait and watch, my eyes darting from one girl to the other. If they clink bottles with me, we’re on, at least for a party, if not, then I drink alone.

  They clink. I smile.

  *****

  We’re six bottles in, the lights have long since gone out and things are getting hot in these parts. I’m bursting out of my jeans right now. Annabelle has her legs folded under her to the side, and her toes keep trailing along my leg, rubbing, creating friction. In the darkness, I can still see the curve of her legs, and how her skirt has hitched up to just below her panties.

  “So, you were saying,” I say about to ramp up the temperature a little, “something about truth or dare?”

  Earlier the two of them had brought it up, only to change the subject. Now, I’m butting in. It’s my turn to choose.

  I lean forward and whisper, “I’m sure you two are full of naughty secrets.” It’s not my best line but I’m a little drunk, and a little more to the point than usual.

  Emma giggles, stifling the noise with her hand. I glance over her shoulder, but the disgruntled couple doesn’t stir.

  “I’m a good girl,” she whispers, her blanket wrapped completely around her, cutting off my view to her body. “I don’t know the meaning of the word naughty.”

  She smiles at me; her lips parted. Her eyes roll down my body and come to rest between my legs. It’s dark and I’m wearing jeans. I don’t know if she can see how fucking turned on I am, but I think she already has a good idea. She stares for an eternity, and I feel myself reaching for her, not with my hands, but with my cock. Annabelle shifts in her chair and her legs are now pressed against mine. She moves her hand, just a slight gesture but it’s just enough to pull her skirt up. It’s my turn to stare. I can’t see any panties, just more flesh and then darkness. I lick my lips. Silence descends. Annabelle moans gently and shifts again, her skirt riding up a little more. I’m ready to dive in now. I’ve had enough of the games. I want to satisfy and be satisfied, plane or not. This is a celebration. But still, I rein in my passion a little longer, letting it build until the inevitable.

  “I have secrets...” Annabelle says softly, almost purring the words. She looks sideways at me and I see her shoulders heaving, hear her breath heavy and hot on my face. “I’ll tell if you will.”

  Emma moves sideways along her seat until she’s perched on the edge of the seat beside Annabelle. She spreads the blanket across their shoulders, sealing off the little space. Now we’re virtually cut off from the rest of the sleeping plane. Anything could happen.

  I shrug and rack my brain, fighting to remain focused despite the two girls in front of me, drawing me in like their plaything.

  “Truth it is then,” I say.

  A breath slips out of my mouth. Annabelle has slipped a hand under Emma’s skirt. I watch as they watch me. I’m aching to have them now but I understand the game, and for this one, I’ll play by their rules.

  Emma’s breathing heavily. I can just see her face. She’s inches from me. She’s frowning, and her mouth is open. I hear the liquid sounds as Annabelle works on Emma, and see her wrist flexing, back and forth.

  “I’ll ask,” Annabelle says. Then she turns to me. I see something else in her eyes now. It’s intense hunger. “Have you ever had sex on a plane?”

  She rubs her leg along mine, just inches from me, and I rub back. Her skirt rides up even more, and now I see the dark shadow between her legs. I lick my lips again. I so dearly want to fall between the seats and drink of her, and taste her on my tongue.

  “Good question,” Emma gasps. She’s writhing now, low moans trapped in her mouth, growing stronge
r as Annabelle speeds up.

  Annabelle grasps my hand. “Well, have you?” She keeps holding it, in place as if she’s waiting.

  “No, never,” I say knowing all the games are over. It’s time to finally partake of these two nymphs giving themselves to me. It’s strange. I’ve never had this response from women before. It’s never been so easy, yet when I think back to the bar, and the beautiful woman staring at me, I wonder, maybe I was so imprisoned, so controlled that I stopped noticing the attention. Anything’s possible.

  Annabelle takes my hand and guides it to her bare thigh. She rests her hand atop mine and pushes it across her skin. Her skin is hot on my palm but I want it to be wet, soaking with perspiration and lust. She knows what I want. Now I do the guiding, eager to explore the darkness, to enter and find its hidden secrets. I slide my hand to her inner thigh until my fingertips are wet with her juices, then I slide further over her slickness until I find her core. She gasps and leans forward, lunging at me. I gasp next as her teeth find my lip and tug at it. Emma starts to come, moans bursting into the blanket over her mouth. My fingers ease into Annabelle and begin to caress, moving upwards, stroking the sensitive flesh inside. She whimpers then releases my lip; replacing her teeth with tongue, and I hungrily reach for her. I almost explode with gratitude when not one but two hands begin to stroke my shaft. But I so dearly want to taste of them. I want to drink of them, and feel their juices running over my chin. So I take control.

  “Sit back in your seat,” I order her, and then my eyelids flutter as I feel the button to my jeans pop open, and the zip quickly unwind. Annabelle does as she is told and as my cock is at last freed from its prison. I kneel between Annabelle’s legs, already breathing in her scent, already tasting it on my tongue. Emma maintains our privacy, holding the blanket up with one hand while she pumps at my cock with the other. I take a quick look around, briefly worrying about the other passengers, but then Emma destroys that worry. She reaches down and slides three fingers inside herself. I watch, now wanting to eat her pussy, as she pulls out her fingers and then leans forward and grips my cock. She smears her juices all over me from balls to dome, and then starts to pump again. The sound of her cum on me and the feel of it as it lubricates my flesh fill me with passion and I turn and lunge for Annabelle’s pussy.