Stitches_A Ménage Romance [MFM]

by Sam Mariano

  My little beauty is a natural. Griff’s head falls back as Moira takes every inch of his cock. I reach under her and stroke her clit, wanting to reward her even more for the excellent job she’s doing. This is fucking perfect. My cock in her pussy, Griff filling her mouth, and she’s loving every second of it.

  God, I love her little sounds. They’re muffled around Griff now, but that makes them even sexier. I could fuck her a little slower or change positions so this lasts a little longer, but this doesn’t need to be a marathon. As hot as Griff is for her—and if she didn’t already get the poor fucker off—he’s not going to last long with Moira working his dick the way she is. I’m more turned on than I thought I would be by Griff taking Moira’s mouth, and of course, my wife’s pussy is as hot and tight as it always is. Fuck, I love her.

  Nah, no marathon, we’re just sealing a deal. I grab her hips and fuck her hard. I circle her clit hard and fast until she comes the first time, still impaled at both ends with me and Griff so she has nowhere to go. I know the sound my wife makes when she’s coming, though. I know the way her pussy squeezes my dick. I let up off her clit and assault the fuck out of her G-spot.

  “Fuck, Seb,” Griff says, fisting both hands in her hair and fucking her face. “I’m gonna come.”

  “Spill it all down her throat,” I tell him, as Moira’s desperate moans fill the space between us. “You swallow every fucking drop he gives you, you hear me, sweetheart?”

  She’s too full of Griff’s cock to nod, but I know she hears me. I thrust into her hard and fast a few more times and she cries out, a broken glorious sound as her pussy convulses around me. I push deep and groan with my own release.

  “Oh, fuck,” Griff says, before practically growling as he pours his own cum down my wife’s throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, before easing back.

  “Mm.” Moira moans softly and I can imagine her sealing her lips around his cock as he leaves her, making sure she gets every last drop and leaves him clean. She always does for me.

  I pull out of her pussy at the same time. Moira collapses in a heap on the bed. I’m fucking spent, so I drag my ass back to my spot and wait for Moira to collect herself.

  Griff doesn’t. He’s gotta be as drained as I am right now, but he gathers Moira up and pulls her against him. She nestles right into his side and he keeps a protective arm wrapped around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring, “Are you okay?”

  Moira sighs, nodding her head. “Mm hmm. I’m good.”

  “I got a little rough with you there,” he says, holding her like she’s something precious. She is, but it’s weird to see someone holding my something special that way.

  “I won’t break,” she assures him, fondly running a hand across his muscled chest.

  I let them have their little moment—he’s more considerate than I am, I pick that up right away. I know what Moira’s body can handle, though; this is all still new to him. I wonder if Moira likes the dynamic with him. I wonder if she likes how exalted she is in his eyes. Moira’s my greatest treasure and she knows it, but I don’t fawn over her like this. That’s not our way.

  I’m tempted to take her back. A well-placed command, probably even just speaking to her would draw her back my way. Griff needs it more than I do tonight, though. He needs to know she has affection for him; he needs to know he can use her body and not hurt her; he needs to know what it feels like to fall asleep with Moira in his arms.

  9

  Griff

  When I wake up, I’m alone in a strange bed. The pillow next to me smells of lavender, like Moira. She slept beside me most of the night. I felt her roll away and heard her snuggle up next to Seb at one point.

  I stretch, looking around, a little confused. I know where I am, but I don’t know where everyone else is or why they didn’t come get me. I don’t even know what woke me until I hear a reminder vibration from my phone. Where is my phone? I think it was still in the pocket of my jeans, so it’s probably in the tangled mess on the floor.

  Or, it should be, but there’s no longer a tangled mess of clothing on the floor. My jeans have been picked up and folded neatly, placed on a chair in the corner with my phone on top.

  I drag my ass out of Seb’s bed—that’s weird—and go over to grab my clothes. Flashes of last night run through my mind—the feel of Moira’s mouth around my cock, her soft hand planted on my hip, the way her body lurched forward and she took my cock down her throat while Seb fucked her.

  Damn, that was a hotter sight than I was prepared for.

  My blood starts to stir so I push the thoughts away. I don’t even know what time it is. I grab my phone to check and see a text message from Moira. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Breakfast will be done soon.”

  Breakfast? This comes with breakfast?

  I try to remember the last time Ashley and I had breakfast together. We didn’t have our house yet. I was staying in an apartment. So it’s been years—I wanna say that was the first few months of our relationship.

  I wanna take a shower, but I guess if Moira’s making breakfast I should go downstairs. That means Seb is probably down there, too. I wonder if the morning after will be weird?

  Once I pull my clothes on, I head downstairs. Seb is seated at the table, poring over his morning paper and drinking coffee. He looks relaxed and civilized as ever in a crisp gray suit, not at all a man who just last night coaxed me into fucking his wife’s mouth while he buried his cock inside her at the same time. He looks up as I walk in and smiles pleasantly. “Morning, Griff.”

  “Morning,” I murmur back, but my gaze goes to Moira. Upon hearing Seb acknowledge me, she turns her head and looks at me. She already looks lovely, in a soft-looking black sweater with little white fabric posies all over the front. Her long dark hair is pulled back in a low pony tail, and she has a tight black skirt on. She’s wearing kitten heels, even though she’s in the house. I’m not sure what the rules are for interaction like this when we’re all together, but I just follow my instincts. A woman is making me breakfast, a woman I just spent the night with last night, so I go over and wrap my arms around her tiny waist from behind. She’s in the middle of flipping sausage patties so she pauses to look back and flash me a smile over her shoulder.

  “Sleep well?” she asks me.

  I nuzzle my face into her neck and leave a little kiss there. “Very well. Did you?”

  “Oh, yes,” she says, placing her free hand on my arm. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Everything smells delicious,” I tell her.

  “Thank you.”

  I let her go and head over to the table, flicking a glance at Seb to see how he feels about all this. He doesn’t appear to be concerned, folding up his paper and setting it aside now that I’m here.

  “Now that all this is settled,” he begins, “are you taking the meeting with Donovan today or am I?”

  “Is this all settled?” I ask him. “We never actually talked about it.”

  “We fucked about it,” Seb says, smirking. “That was more enjoyable.”

  “I still have questions.”

  “Then ask,” he says, simply.

  “I want to take Moira out tonight after work.”

  That’s not really a question, but it is a request. It rankles a bit, feeling like I need to ask his permission to take her out, but I can tell by the way his blue eyes dance with pleasure that Seb enjoys it. Bastard. Of course he does. I can’t be too mad, given he is sharing his wife, but leave it to him to be a real pain in the ass about it.

  “Okay,” Seb says, nodding once. “We don’t have any plans. I’ll be at work anyway. That’s fine.”

  “So, do I bring her back here, or take her to my house?”

  “This is our home. Bring her back here.”

  “What if I want to stay the night with her?”

  He quirks an eyebrow at me. “You just did, didn’t you? So stay the night.”

  “It’s not going to bother you to come home to us in your b
ed?”

  “Only if you’re in my spot,” he quips.

  I give him a dead look, but Moira interrupts, bringing over a plate full of toast and putting it on the table between us. There’s green stuff smeared on top.

  “Do you like avocado toast?” she asks, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing.

  “Sure.”

  She returns to the stove and comes back a minute later with two plates. She gives me mine first, then goes over and puts Seb’s down in front of him. Before she can move away, he catches her around the waist and pulls her onto his knee. She goes easily into his arms and he leans in to give her a kiss.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

  She sighs against his mouth, wrapping an arm around his neck to hold onto his kisses, like she needs more of them. I want that. I probably shouldn’t compare, though. It’s not like they developed that level of intimacy overnight. They’ve built their relationship together over years. Of course we’re not on their level on day one.

  It’s not important that we mimic their relationship; we can build our own.

  I’m not Seb and I don’t want to be. I’ve always had my own relationship with Moira and I still do. It’s just different now. It won’t have the limitations we had before. I’m no longer an observer—I just had my arms around her a few minutes ago. I get to take her out tonight and spend some time with her. Then, after we come back alone, I can peel those clothes off her and make love to her.

  Right now his hand is the one on her breast, his lips tugging up in a helpless grin as she greedily steals more kisses, but later it will be me.

  God, she’s beautiful. Her blue eyes dance with amusement and pleasure as she peppers his face with kisses and I can’t help smiling. This is kinda nice. This used to feel like torture, but now the jealousy is gone. It’s nice to see Seb so happy. It’s always been nice to see him happy; it was just tempered with the shitty covetous feeling of not having it for myself.

  I don’t feel like I’m on the outside now. Even if it’s not my lap she’s in, not my face she’s peppering with kisses, I don’t feel excluded.

  She finally stands so she can go get herself a plate, but she winks at me and lets her hand skate across my shoulders as she passes.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  I look up from the desktop monitor at Seb. We had been talking to the club manager out on the floor, but my lawyer called and I came to the office so I could take the call in private. Of course Ashley isn’t letting the divorce go through easily—why would she? As I listened to the lawyer yammer on and run up my bill, I decided to start looking at restaurants to take Moira out to tonight.

  It crosses my mind it might be weird for her that I’m not divorced yet, but then she’s married—this is far from a typical courtship.

  Since I didn’t answer, Seb walks around the desk and takes a look for himself.

  “I’m trying to decide where to take Moira tonight.”

  After briefly surveying the restaurants on the screen, he squeezes my shoulder and tells me, “You want to know a secret?”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “She’s gonna fuck you at the end of the date. You don’t have to try this hard.”

  I roll my eyes and shrug his hand off. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  “You give me that advice a lot,” he says, straightening.

  “You should heed it one of these times.”

  “But then what would we talk about?” he asks, lightly.

  “Business? Baseball? The woman we’re sharing?”

  Seb rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t give a fuck about baseball. I’ll just keep being an asshole so we always have that fall back on.”

  I nod once, eyes on the monitor. “Great, you do that, I’ll plan my own date; everybody wins.”

  “What’d the lawyer say?” he asks, dropping into the chair on the other side of the desk.

  That bullshit is the last thing I want to think about right now. “Ashley’s stalling, trying to put off the inevitable. Nothing to worry about.”

  “I don’t want to rain on your parade, but you know the terms of your prenup better than I do. Do you think it’s a good idea to go out with Moira right now? Might be smarter to stay in just until you get the papers signed.”

  A scowl transforms my face. “What do you mean by that?”

  He lifts his eyebrows. “I mean, if Ashley is looking for ways to bleed you for more money, could she fuck you over with the infidelity clause? You’re still legally married until she signs the papers.”

  I look up at him, my eyes widening with fucking indignation. “The infidelity clause? I wasn’t unfaithful. She was. She’s the one who fucked three other men while we were married. Now we’re separated.”

  “But separated isn’t divorced. You know I’m on your side here; I’m just trying to look out for our best interest, that’s all. I’m obviously not saying you’re actually doing anything wrong, I’m just saying if she’s looking for dirt on you, maybe don’t take Moira out tonight to some swanky place that Ashley’s friends go to.”

  “It’s public knowledge Moira and I are friends. We’ve been seen together plenty.”

  “You have, but usually not without me and at the kind of restaurant you only take a woman you want to fuck. Let’s be real here, as good as it might be, you’re not going for the chocolate soufflé.”

  I dismiss his concern. “We’ve been places without you.”

  “Not like this,” he states. “You have plenty of time to take Moira out after the ink is dry on your divorce papers. Why don’t you stay in until then, just to be safe? I won’t be home tonight. Moira can make you dinner; you’ll still have a night to yourself. Or get takeout, but something you would’ve done when you were just friends—get tacos or Chinese. Don’t go the whole nine yards until it can’t be used against you. When the divorce goes through, you can take Moira out and pay $70 for a dessert if that’s what makes you happy, but wait. What’s the rush?”

  “Nah, fuck that. I’m not going to let Ashley dictate how I do this.”

  Naturally, Seb does not back down. “Why don’t you talk to your lawyer about it first? For me. It’ll set my mind at ease. You do own half of everything I own, after all. If your whore ex-wife gets the ammunition to take you to the cleaners, it’s going to be inconvenient for me, too.”

  I shake my head, tapping the link to make a reservation. “Never should have fucking married her. Why didn’t you talk me out of that?”

  Seb shrugs and crosses his arms. “Thought you were happy. Didn’t have all the information. You should’ve just told me you wanted Moira back then, could’ve saved us a lot of time and trouble.”

  “Well, I kinda figured that would be the end of our friendship,” I point out. “I still don’t know how you’re so cool with this.”

  “It’s all in how you look at it,” he assures me. “What I’m getting out of it is worth what I have to invest.”

  “This isn’t a business deal.”

  “Everything’s a business deal, Griff.” He pushes up off the chair, nodding his head at me. “Including your divorce. You need to call your lawyer and make sure you’re not going to get fucked if Ashley finds out about you and Moira.”

  “You know how you said you weren’t trying to rain on my parade?” I ask.

  He smiles faintly, heading for the door. “Next time I’ll bring an umbrella.”

  10

  Griff

  When I pull up into Seb’s driveway tonight, I feel good. Better than good. I can’t wait to see Moira. I kill the engine and slide out of the car, pocketing my keys and heading for the door. I still remember the first time I met her. It wasn’t unusual to see Seb with a pretty girl. Between his looks, charm, and money, he made his way through his fair share of them. He started to resent the ones who only came with the money, though. One of the girls he dated even had money herself—old money, which apparently means something to people. Personally I don’t understand
how there’s more prestige in inheriting a fortune from some dead grandpa who made a fortune in publishing back in the day than guys like me and Seb who busted our asses to make every dime we have, but “society people” are ass backward about that shit. This one girl, Evelyn Curtis, was the worst of them. Even with Seb’s financial situation being what it is, she never felt he was good enough to introduce to her family.

  He dumped her ass, then suddenly she came around to his new money. Tried to explain the unique pressure she was under, being so special.

  God, she sucked. I was glad when he dumped her.

  Especially because he met Moira shortly after, and I liked Moira on sight. It wasn’t just her looks. Moira is a looker, no question, but she exudes a sweetness that a lot of ladies these days don’t. There’s a spark of gentleness in her. It’s not hidden. It’s there in the sweet sound of her voice, the kindness in her eyes. The night I met her, I joined them for dinner at a restaurant; Moira went out of her way to talk to me and make sure I felt welcome. She didn’t have to. I felt welcome the first time she smiled at me.

  It took a while before I started to feel jealous, though. I liked her too much, enjoyed being around her. I had always more or less had Seb to myself, even when he was seeing someone, but with Moira it was different. I kind of figured she’d be the one he married right from the get-go. You could just tell.

  Now I stand outside the door of their house and I don’t know whether I should knock or let myself in. Formality wins out and I press the illuminated round button. I hear the doorbell ring out inside the house and a minute later I can see the outline of Moira’s figure approaching through the frosted glass of the door.

  The door opens and she greets me with a smile, putting an earring in her left earlobe. “Hey, Griff. Come on in. I just need five more minutes.”

  She changed clothes. I don’t know why I’m so pleased to see that; she looked lovely in what she wore earlier, but she changed into a sexy-as-hell black cocktail dress that hugs her curves just right. She’s dressing up to go out with me, like she’s excited. I can’t tear my eyes away from her as I step inside. She leans behind me to close the door, and I can’t help catching her around the waist and pulling her close for a kiss.