And the Midnight Trio

by Harper Eliot

  John sat still, simply observing, his face neutral but with, perhaps, the hint of a smile as Liam reached up to slide the other strap from her shoulder, her dress falling about her waist and exposing her pink nipples to the cool air in the static room. Violet murmured her approval and Liam cupped one breast as his other hand pressed more firmly against her naked cunt.

  Arching her back, she leaned into him, feeling his middle finger slip between her labia, his thumb stroking the soft black pubic hair above her slit.

  John leaned forward to see how she moved, how her nipples tightened with her arousal and protruded with her arched spine. But he didn’t touch her, made no move to cup her untouched breast or smooth the skin around her naval. He simply watched as Liam’s fingers pinched and bit her, saw how she sank into his hands and parted her wanton lips. John observed, and at the sight of his eyes, shamelessly exploring and skating over her nakedness, Violet felt her cunt grow wet, coating Liam’s intrusive fingers.

  She had never been watched like this, so close and explicit. No one had ever sat quietly to observe her in the throes of arousal. She had been seen before, accidentally or perhaps intentionally. She had heard the muffled giggles of tipsy teenagers who stole glances at parties as she tried to hide her activities behind half closed doors, wondering how far the gossip would spread by the time the school bell rang on Monday morning. But she had never been subject for someone’s viewing pleasure.

  Liam released her breast and pulled her back to lie across him, tugging at her dress and pushing it down her thighs until it pooled like oil at her feet. Naked between the two, who still sat in their suits, collars unbuttoned, but everything else intact, she felt like a plaything, orchestrated for their pleasure. Although she had been so brazen as to invite them down to her dressing room, it was John who had offered her to Liam. It was John who sat and took his passive pleasure as his apprentice used his hands to explore her body once more.

  With her head against his chest, he placed one finger below her chin and raised her mouth to meet his. He kissed fiercely, as though taking as much as he could, devouring her lips and tongue, and his touch became more urgent. No longer stroking, he manipulated her limbs to accommodate him, all the while kissing her hard, biting her lips and teasing her teeth with the tip of his tongue.

  Violet let a whimper escape, muffled by his lips, into the heavy room, and she felt Liam’s body groan in response. Slipping her hands to his waistband, she unbuckled and unbuttoned him with deft fingers, until she held his heated erection in her palm, stroking him gently. He thrust up into her hand, his desire rough and commanding. She felt him pulse as she tightened her grip and the tip of his finger pushed inside her open cunt. Their gasps slowly fell into unison, their want synchronised and restless. Pulling her torso to face him and throwing her leg over his lap, he settled her astride him, her soaked cunt pressed against the base of his cock, the tip nestled against her pubic hair.

  Looking into each other’s eyes with delight, Violet made light work of his shirt, her fingers nimble as she unbuttoned him and opened the crisp white material over his chest, revealing lightly toned muscles and the softest smattering of hair.

  “Perfect,” John’s voice broke their reverie and Violet, pressed against her heated lover, turned to look at the older man with heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes. John sat back, one arm resting on the arm of the sofa, his face a little flushed but settled in an expression of comfortable amusement. Meeting her breathless gaze, he smiled. “Fuck him.”

  Violet bit her lip to stifle the growl that tickled her throat. His voiced commands conjured her basest arousal, and in her mind she saw Liam and herself, just bodies, twisted impossibly, fucking like animals, all carnality and passion, sweat and groans. Nothing beautiful, just taking their pleasure, in complete disregard.

  Raising herself onto her knees, Violet placed her palms on Liam’s chest and bit his mouth as he pushed his erection against her sex. She hovered there, teasing, not Liam, but John, who moved to see his apprentice enter her. But still she held back, rocking her hips gently against the tip of his cock, coating him delicately in her arousal. From where he sat, Violet knew that as she raised herself an inch higher, John could see the string of slick desire that stretched from her to Liam’s cock. Watching John’s eyes, Violet kissed the head of Liam’s cock with her parted labia, again and again, thinking only of the older man, watching her tease. But beneath her, a strangled groan of frustration tore from Liam’s throat and placing his hands on her shoulders, he drove her down onto him, engulfing his cock in one thrust, until she could feel his balls nestled against her buttocks. She gasped in surprise, as though she had forgotten him there, beneath her, a human being alight with need.

  Now deeply penetrated, held tight, Violet pressed downwards, grinding into his body, feeling him throb as she tightened around him and dug her nails into his chest. He yelped and reached to release her grip, taking her hands in his and moving inside her.

  “No marks, little one,” John said, his voice warm but authoritative. “Nothing he has to explain.”

  For the first time, looking down at their laced hands, Violet saw the gold band around Liam’s finger, tight above his knuckle, and she felt a flicker of guilt cross her mind. But Liam’s eyes were closed, his head back an inch as he raised his hips to penetrate her deeply, again and again.

  As their movements deepened, speed increasing, Violet wondered how often John found girls for Liam to fuck. She wondered how many women had fingered the cold metal band as they rode his aching erection, or felt him slide between their thighs, all the while caught in John’s binding stare. In her mind, Violet saw redheads and blondes and brunettes, on all fours, supine, pressed against a shower wall, fucked deeply, filled to gasping, the intimate wet noises slipping from between their bodies as Liam thrust inside them. She imagined the first night, John buying drinks and inviting a tall, willowy girl to their table, encouraging Liam’s inquisitive, groping hands between her thighs and around her waist. Seducing her back to a hotel where John sat in an ornate, silk upholstered chair, and watched Liam crumble from a loving husband to a man driven purely by his desire to fuck.

  Violet murmured something but found her words stifled as Liam covered her mouth with his, and grasped her hips, lifting her, repeatedly and letting her sink back onto him. She moved with him, feeling her ass clench and release with each penetration, both breathless, her hands now gently tracing the shape of his stomach and chest.

  She could feel Liam’s blood heating under his skin as his pleasure built, his body tensing slowly, and she took control, moving a little slower. Liam’s face contorted into frustration, and Violet kissed his lips gently.

  “On the floor,” John’s voice was commanding once more and, looking at him, Violet saw the expression of a man in control, serious in his instruction.

  With barely a moment for thought, Liam lifted Violet from his lap, and slid them both to the ground. Clasping his mouth to hers, she kissed him and made to lie on her back, his body over hers.

  “No. Not like that. On all fours,” came John’s direction.

  With one playful kiss, Liam leaned back to rest on his heels, his erection jutting upwards, glistening with the evidence of their activities. Slowly, deeply immersed in the languorous haze of sex, Violet turned and raised herself into all fours, parting her thighs to accommodate Liam’s cock, which she could already feel pressed against her slit. From there, as Liam pushed inside her, Violet found herself looking up, directly before John, meeting his dark expression.

  Liam’s thrusts were ever more urgent, swift and deep, and Violet felt the impact of his movements ripple through her body, catching the edge of her panting breaths. She kept her dark eyes on John, watching him as he watched her. Like all the powerful men she had ever known, he sat with his knees apart, and she saw, or thought she saw, the swell of his cock between his legs as he leaned forward.

  “Touch yourself. I want to see you cum.”

  Violet gasped, bu
t whether it was due to the forcefulness of Liam’s cock, pushing deep inside her, or surprise at John’s words, she wasn’t sure. Shifting her weight to one hand, she reached back with the other, under her tense body, and found the hard pebble of her clitoris. Teasing it with knowing fingers, she rubbed around the point, feeling the tingling pleasure in her cunt.

  John moved further forward, and as Violet closed and opened her eyes, slowly, she watched him unbuckle his belt and reach into his groin to pull out his cock. Although short, it was thick and hard, a pearl of pre-cum glistening at the tip. He moved to position himself an inch away from her lips and began to stroke himself his hand slow, firm, certain.

  Her fingers slipped faster across her clitoris and she felt the flush before orgasm creeping up her body, turning her cheeks pink. Nodding encouragement, John’s eyes were like fire above her, his mouth open an inch and she could see the shine of his red tongue.

  “Cum for me. I want to see you cum.” He spoke low, his voice breathy, grating in the back of his throat.

  The sensations from her own fingers and from Liam’s relentless pounding built until she could feel herself balanced on the edge of orgasm. She gasped and panted, holding onto this moment, cresting the wave before the fall.

  Her breath faltered and she pressed back, firmly into Liam. Slipping forward another inch, John pushed his cock against her parted lips and she came, opening her mouth to lick away his pre-cum, her body shuddering, her wrist growing weak beneath her as the climax ripped through her frame.

  Dropping her hand to steady herself, she moaned around John’s cock as he pushed in deeper. He wasn’t rough or forceful, but smoothly in control, slipping his heated erection against her tongue as she gasped for breath. She felt the two men thrust and penetrate her in unison, John gently, pressing up against the roof her mouth, whilst Liam bucked his hips against her slick, hot cunt. She clenched around him, her body still wracked with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and he groaned loudly.

  As they continued to fuck her, both taking their pleasure, she felt the ache in her wrists and in her knees, the carpet now too rough, and the ground beneath too hard. She felt her brow furrow as she sank deeper into the decadence of being fucked and feeling pain. She whimpered deep in her throat and John growled, the noises she made coursing through his dick and making him thrust a little more firmly. Grasping her head, his fingers lacing against her scalp, in her hair, John held her and thrust again, once, twice, and stilled, her nose pressed into his dark pubic hair, his balls against her lips.

  A strangled noise came from John, his body tensing as he filled her mouth with his hot, sticky cum. She closed her eyes tightly, forcing her tongue to lick around the head of his cock as she swallowed, desperate to take every drop. At the sight of John releasing into her mouth, Liam arched his back and drove as deeply into her as possible. Groaning, his cum spilled around his cock.

  For a moment, bodies softening, not one of the three moved. They all held their places and Violet’s tongue slowed, the taste of cum coating her mouth as her back heaved.

  Falling back on his knees, Liam slipped out of her and breathed loudly, through pursed lips. Placing his fingers around the base of his cock, John pulled out as well, releasing Violet’s mouth and moving back to sit comfortably on the sofa as he buckled his belt.

  Between them, Violet sank down to lie on her side, one arm beneath her head, the other crossed over her breasts.

  “Whew,” Liam laughed, feeling the tension leave the room, all three sated. His voice was breathy. “That was good.”

  “I knew she’d be good,” John sipped his wine, speaking as though Violet wasn’t there.

  She felt the pulsing arousal of being used and discarded deep in her cunt and allowed her breathing to slow. The room still seemed full of intensity, and she noticed her nakedness more acutely now their bodies were disengaged, and pulled her thighs together. But she felt more subdued, their passionate noises no longer echoing on the stone walls, and became aware, once again, of the crackling radio. Raising her head for a moment, she strained to make out the lyrics of some half-obscured song.

  Liam moved in front of her and leaned on one elbow. He traced the line of her cheekbone delicately. “You okay?”

  She nodded, smiling weakly up at him.

  “Good,” He removed his hand and studied her face for a moment. “What’s your name?”

  Violet’s eyes opened wide and she couldn’t help but laugh. The fluttering amusement coursed from her stomach up into her throat, until she lay on the floor, giggling like a little girl. She heard John laugh quietly with her, and saw a crooked grin stretch Liam’s mouth. No one spoke as the three laughed and Liam rolled onto his back, his hands over his face.

  “Oh, man,” He shook his head. “Sorry. Stupid question. What does it matter, eh?”

  Violet smiled at him, unable to keep the pity from her eyes and patted his arm in a fraternal manner.

  Breaking through the warmth of their laughter, the door creaked open and all three froze. Turning their heads, their eyes came to rest on Sam.

  A little disheveled after working two shows in one evening, the autumn breeze had brought the pink to his cheeks. His face displayed no emotion whatsoever, and he stepped calmly into the room, closing the door behind him and setting his bag down on a chair.

  Frowning a little he tilted his head to look at Violet lying naked in the middle of her dressing room. She desperately tried to recall their conversation from earlier, trying to remember the time. He had said he would be back, had given her an hour. But his words escaped her.

  “Shit,” Liam scrambled to his feet. “Is that your boyfriend?”

  Violet didn’t speak, but just looked up at Sam with quiet adoration.

  “Yeah, I am.” Sam answered. “I think you guys had better go.”

  Liam quickly pulled his trousers up and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his shoulders like a frightened rabbit. His eyes were wild, as he looked around to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. John, in stark contrast to his jittery apprentice, stood calmly, collecting the wineglasses and the bottle, and left, nodding to Sam, Liam following close behind.

  Alone with his girl, Sam reached across her dressing table and switched the crackling radio off.

  Looking up at him, her eyes imploring, begging for forgiveness, Violet parted her lips gently. “I’m sorry.”

  Sam nodded evenly and made his way across the room to sit on the sofa. Spotting her teacup on the low side table, taken from her by Liam at some point in their frantic foreplay, Sam raised it to his lips and drained it. Placing it back down, he jutted his chin up, looking at Violet.

  “Come here.”

  Raising herself up onto all fours she crawled to him and kneeling before him, placed her fingers in his lap. “I’m so sorry, Sammy, I’m so sorry.”

  Her eyes were wide and pleading but glinted not with remorse. Instead her expression bore excitement and expectancy. Playing his part perfectly Sam pushed her hands from his knees and patted the space on the sofa beside him. She climbed up, sitting on her heels facing him. He brought one hand up to stroke her cheek and she closed her eyes, nuzzling into his loving touch.

  The moment quickly changed as he slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her down, roughly over his lap, her stomach flat against his thighs. Holding her in place, his hand firmly planted on her skin, fingering the hair at the nape of her neck, his other hand travelled down her lightly arched back and over the curve of her hip to rest on her buttock. Rubbing roughly, he dug his fingers into her pliant, white flesh.

  “Bad little girl,” He muttered under his breath as he raised his hand and brought it down, hard, on her exposed ass.

  Violet’s breath caught in her throat.

  His hand came down again, faster, leaving a faint pink mark on her skin. Again and again. The rosy hue grew brighter, his movements quick and intense, blushing her skin until she was almost scarlet. She breathed heavily, turning to panting, sweat beading
on her forehead as he spanked her.

  The skin of his palm stung her flesh and she became aware, once again, of the ache in her wrists, and the light burn in her knees where she had been rubbed against the carpet. A twinge in her neck reminded her of the angle John had held her head as he fucked her mouth, and further down, the familiar, bright pain in her shoulder, coursed along her spine, concentrated under Sam’s violent hand. Gritting her teeth, her breaths sharp through her nose, she sank further into the decadence of the pain, hissing her whimpered response.

  He held her in place perfectly, knew her body better than she knew it herself, and as he hit her and she screwed up her eyes, so close to her limit, so close to the precipice that would break, tipping the balance between pleasure and pain towards the latter, he slowed. She flinched under his delayed strikes and moaned, low in her throat. The broken rhythm set her on edge and she twitched at every missed beat.

  Always, as he slowed, and she touched the edge of her consciousness, she remembered the first time, waking in the middle of the night to the image of his eyes glinting brightly in the dark, his hand exploring the curves of her bottom. She had given him the briefest of frowns, curiosity painting questions on her face. The stubble of his cheek brushed hers as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear that he wanted to put her over his knee. She had bristled, unsure of herself, but given into the young desire tightening in his body. That first time, she hadn’t been sure. Curling against him afterwards, feeling her skin a little tender, he had brushed the hair from her brow and asked if she was okay. It took some getting used to. But now, she found herself thinking about it, wanting it. She sought ways to earn his palm. She displeased him and answered back, hungry for his admonishment.

  Finally his hands loosened and calmed and he stroked her skin gently, bringing her back to the here and now. Her breathing slowed and she sank into his lap, tired, the burning in her skin much brighter now than when it began. As her focus melted from the pain in her buttocks, it moved out and she became aware of how slick she was between her thighs. There was, of course, the remnant of Liam, slipping from inside her, but with it, new heat.