by Lily Harlem
“Everything we’ve eaten here has been incredible,” Gabe said.
“Mmm, well, there’s more,” Brent said. “I made—”
He was interrupted by a colossal crack of thunder that rattled around the room as a flash of lightning lit the windows.
“Blimey,” Gabe said. “That’s close.”
I slipped from my stool and walked to the French doors. I shut them up and locked them. Huge drops of water were landing on the patio. “It’s raining,” I said.
Brent strode to the opposite window and closed that. “I think we’re in for a big storm, the sky is black out there.” He walked to the fridge. “I vote we take this cheese board and sit out the storm in the snug with a glass of port. I’ll light the fire if you get chilly.”
“That sounds like a plan.” I rubbed my arms—my hairs were standing on end, a mixture of the ions in the air and the fact that the temperature had dropped.
Another flash filled the kitchen, closely followed by a snap of thunder that seemed to roll over and over in great, cabinet-shaking crests.
“Come on,” Brent said, passing Gabe the cheese board and grabbing a box of bread crackers. “Let’s go.”
Once in the snug, the room I’d seen Gabe first kiss Brent in, I realized why Brent would pick it to wait out a storm. It had only one small window and it was set high, above the picture rail.
He quickly yanked a cord that slid a purple velvet curtain across it. “This is where I used to come when I was a kid and there was a storm. I had a dog, Matilda, and she hated them. So I’d sit in here with her, with a fire on and feed her biscuits, brush her and try and stop her shaking.”
“Ah, poor thing,” I said, trying to imagine Brent as a small boy caring for a scared dog.
“I suppose old habits die hard,” he said, striking a match and holding it beneath the kindling at the base of the fire. “I still gravitate here if I’m at Hardon and there’s a storm.”
The fire took, the first baby flames licking upward. I sat in one of the bucket seats and rested back on the soft, embroidered cushions.
Gabe left the other seat free and opted for the end of a scarlet-colored two-seater sofa that was pushed forward from the wall. He was watching Brent—looking at his ass as he stooped over the fire.
Was Gabe thinking of fucking Brent’s ass now? Was there more to come on this night where they had permission to explore their need for each other?
“Please, help yourself to cheese,” Brent said, standing. “And I’ll pour. Is everyone having port?”
“Yes, please,” I said.
Gabe nodded as he popped a chunk of cheddar into his mouth.
Brent smiled and opened the door on a fine old drinks cabinet. It was stuffed full of half-drunk bottles of spirits.
“Not all mine,” he said. “Well, they are, but it’s not like I drink them all year round. It’s the Christmas cabinet as a rule.”
“I think it’s lovely,” I said. “Is it antique?”
“Yes, one of my mother’s finds.”
Brent handed us all a drink then sat in the seat next to me. He glanced at the window even though it was covered with the curtain. Rain was hammering on it as if trying to break the pane of glass.
Another rumble of thunder trundled overhead and echoed down the chimneybreast.
Brent shuddered. “Be glad when it’s gone past us.”
“So it wasn’t just Matilda that didn’t like storms,” I said.
“Er, no. I guess not.” He knocked back his drink, all of it in one go.
I glanced at Gabe. He was still watching Brent closely. He lifted his drink to his lips, did the same as Brent and swallowed the whole lot.
He then slipped to his knees and moved the few feet to Brent. Placing his hands on Brent’s thighs, he looked at him with his eyes wide and glistening.
“I know a way to take your mind off the storm,” he said quietly.
Brent stared at where Gabe was touching him, his jaw slackened and his lips parted.
“And I think you’d like it,” Gabe said, smoothing his palms up to Brent’s groin. “A lot.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What do you have in mind?” Brent asked quietly.
Gabe cupped the bulge that was pressing through Brent’s trousers. “Would you rather I just showed you?”
I held my breath; watching the two of them was so special. They were unashamedly aroused by each other and it was both intense and beautifully sensual.
“Yes. Show me.” Brent glanced at me.
Gabe followed his gaze.
“Hayley…” Gabe said, his voice low and husky. “Are you…?”
“Okay with this,” I finished for him. “Fuck, yeah, have a blast together. Don’t mind me enjoying the view.”
Gabe smiled. It was such a sinful, sexy smile that I almost went to him and claimed him as mine.
But I didn’t. I sat perfectly static with the heat of the now crackling fire warming my cheeks. I was a voyeur, my role was to watch, enjoy, enhance their pleasure by knowing I was there.
Gabe turned back to Brent and shuffled between his thighs.
Brent slid down the seat a little and I was grateful for the angle my chair was at, which meant I’d have a great view.
The view—my husband giving another man a blowjob.
I could only begin to imagine how excited Gabe must be feeling now. What was swirling round his brain? This would be his first time taking a cock in his mouth.
I had a sip of drink and licked my lips. I adored sucking cock. But would he…?
He’d undone Brent’s fly and was drawing his trousers down.
Brent assisted in shuffling them off.
Gabe tipped forward and kissed a patch of near hairless skin just above Brent’s right knee. He smoothed his hands up and down Brent’s thighs, the way he did to my legs when he was preparing to give me oral.
I squirmed on my seat, remembering earlier, on the sun lounger.
“Gabe,” Brent said, running his hands into Gabe’s hair. “Fuck, you get me so hard.”
“Let’s see, shall we?” Gabe licked his lips and pulled at Brent’s boxers.
The tip of his cock sprang out. The wide head was smooth and as dark as a ripe plum.
“Mmm,” Gabe said, “you are hard, aren’t you.” He tickled his fingers through the line of hair on Brent’s belly that led to his cock, his knuckles brush over Brent’s shaft through the material of his boxers.
A muscle flexed in Brent’s jaw.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” Gabe said. “I want your dick in my mouth.”
“So do it,” Brent said, moving one hand from Gabe’s head and gripping the arm of the chair.
A huge blast of thunder clattered overhead.
Gabe dragged at Brent’s boxers, exposing his cock entirely. For a moment he didn’t move, just sat looking at Brent, studying his shaft and his deep slit. Then he took it in his hands and slowly pumped up and down.
Brent moaned, let his head fall back in the chair and shut his eyes.
“Damn, no wonder if felt good when you fucked me,” Gabe said, his voice almost a whisper. “Your dick is magnificent.”
I had to agree with Gabe. Brent had a damn fine cock and he certainly seemed to know how to use it.
“I love your hands on me,” Brent said. “I’ve thought of it for so long.”
“You have?”
“Yes, since we first met.”
Bloody hell, their attraction for each other had been simmering for a while, no wonder they were explosive together. I sipped my drink again. Heat was gathering in my pussy and my breasts felt heavy. I knew in that instant that I had totally done the right thing by allowing them to satisfy their need. It was too big to contain. Trying to keep something that powerful locked up would have only done harm and twisted them up inside.
“Suck him,” I said to Gabe. “I want to see it.”
He looked at me, his eyes full of desire and his cheeks flushed.
Something passed between us. His gratefulness for my understanding and encouragement, and my love for him—a love that meant I would do anything to make him happy.
“Go ahead,” I said quietly, “take him deep.”
Gabe glanced up at Brent, who was head back, eyes closed, apparently savoring the way Gabe was twisting his grip as he slowly worked his erection.
Gabe used his free hand to pull at Brent’s boxers, removing them completely so Brent was naked.
A log shifted in the fire, but I didn’t take my attention from the two men.
Gabe was hunched between Brent’s long, hair-coated legs masturbating Brent’s thick erection. Brent was gripping Gabe’s head and the arm of the seat. His features were tense and he appeared lost in pleasure. It was an incredible sight, so full of trust and generosity. They were so comfortable together, so at ease with me here too.
As another clap of thunder shook the house, Gabe leaned forward and took the head of Brent’s cock into his mouth.
“Ah, yeah…” Brent said, staring down at his groin. “Fucking hell.”
Gabe had his eyes shut now and was sinking lower.
“I’ve fucking dreamed of this…” Brent said, his voice tense. “So many times.”
Gabe kept on going, taking more and more of Brent.
I blew out a breath; my skin was hot and my heart thudding. For years I’d thought of Gabe’s mouth as mine, my plaything, my property, yet here it was, stuffed full of Brent’s cock.
“Oh, God, you’re doing it so well…yeah, like that…” Brent said, gathering Gabe’s short hair into his fist. “Fuck, your tongue is…flicking it like that, it’s…”
Gabe pulled up, holding Brent’s shaft as it emerged from his mouth. He sank back down.
Brent groaned again. “Won’t last…long…” he said, his toes curling on the carpet.
This seemed to spur Gabe on and he set up a faster pace.
Brent panted, each burst of air jolting his chest.
My clit was engorged, pressing against my knickers. I wanted to masturbate again, but I wouldn’t, not this time.
Fuck, they were amazing together. Everything about them. The sounds they made, the way Gabe was moving, putting his whole body into the act and how Brent was reacting to it.
“I’m going to…come…” Brent gasped, sitting forward then slamming back in the chair. He thrust his hips up and pressed Gabe down.
Gabe took it all, if anything speeding up and sinking lower. He reached up and grabbed Brent’s chest. Through his t-shirt he grasped Brent’s pectoral muscle, hard, the way he sometimes did my breast when he made me come; squeezing my nipple and adding a nip of pain into the equation.
“Ah, fucking hell it’s here,” Brent shouted, baring his teeth and screwing up his eyes. “Ah…ah…ah…”
He jerked, his belly contracted and the tendons on his neck strained.
I knew Gabe was swallowing Brent’s cum. It wasn’t easy for him, I could see him battling with the fluid spurting into his throat, but still he carried on.
He took every bit of pleasure from Brent until finally Brent sagged and released Gabe’s head.
Gabe slowly lifted his mouth from Brent’s cock then caught it in his hand. He stared upward and smiled, his lips wet and a little bruised and swollen.
“Fuck that was intense,” Brent said. “It’s been a long time since I came in anyone’s mouth.”
“Really?” Gabe said, gently caressing Brent’s softening cock.
“Yeah, lets just say my wife, soon-to-be ex-wife, didn’t include oral in her repertoire.”
“Mmm, well I’m glad to have been of assistance,” Gabe said, kissing the tip of Brent’s cock. “And that it was as special for you as it was for me.”
“Damn special,” Brent said. He hooked his hands beneath Gabe’s arms and lifted him upwards.
Their mouths met. They kissed long and lazy, enjoying each other and lost in the moment.
Eventually they parted.
Gabe turned to me. “Come here.” He held out his hand.
I did as he’d asked and when I stepped close enough he slid his fingers around my nape and drew me in for a kiss.
Our tongues tangled and I tasted not just Gabe but Brent too—Brent’s mouth and his cock. It was a musky, exciting tang—new and unexplored.
I pulled back and smiled at Gabe. “That was hot,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “You enjoyed yourself.”
“Not as much as me,” Brent said, touching Gabe’s lips. “It was fucking incredible from where I was sitting.”
I chuckled. “Mmm, I just bet it was.”
“You two,” Gabe said. “Blow my mind, seriously. This has been so…”
“Intense,” I said.
“Sexy,” Brent added.
“Yes, both of those things and more. I feel almost…” Gabe paused, closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, a long blink. “Overwhelmed by your generosity and understanding. How many men get this…two lovers? Even if it is just for one weekend.”
“Not many,” I said. “But you’re special, Gabe.”
“I second that,” Brent said. He leaned forward and swept his tongue over Gabe’s lips. “Mmm, Hayley left some of her sweetness on you.”
“Everything about Hayley is sweet,” Gabe said, running his hand down my back. “Though she does seem exhausted. I think maybe it’s time to move this upstairs.” He moved away from Brent and stood. He yawned.
“I think the storm has passed,” I said, going to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head in the groove of his neck.
Brent reached for his boxers and pulled them over his rapidly deflating cock. “Yes, thank goodness. But I’ll leave you to it, if you don’t mind. Catch you in the morning.”
“Are you sure, I—” Gabe started.
“Yes, I’m sure. You belong to Hayley,” Brent said. “I appreciate her letting us have some fun.” He paused and frowned. “No, that sounds too casual. I appreciate Hayley allowing us to explore these feelings we have for each other, but as I’ve said right from the beginning, I have no intention of coming between you.”
“But you haven’t, you—”
“Mr. Stone,” Brent interrupted again. “Take you wife to bed and make love to her. It’s her that you truly want and need. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Well, if you’re sure?” Gabe said.
I hugged him a little tighter. I wasn’t going to argue, I wanted Gabe to myself for a while, even if it was just to hold.
“Yes, I’m sure. Tell you what, I’ll thrash you at tennis if the rain has stopped.”
Gabe laughed. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
* * * *
Gabe and I paused to get a glass of water from the kitchen on the way through. It wasn’t that late but the long drive from London, the heat of the day and the exciting, sexy times we’d had meant we were both ready for bed.
I let Gabe use the bathroom first and while he was in the shower I thought about Brent. How I’d sampled his flavor on Gabe’s lips and he’d done the same with me. Was it really odd that we had that intimate knowledge but not? That we’d seen each other have sex but not had sex ourselves?
My mind wandered down a train of thought of me having sex with Brent and Gabe watching. Would Gabe enjoy that? Would it turn him on to see his two lovers making love? Or would he have a jealous rage, would it be something he just couldn’t handle?
And did I want to have sex with Brent? Certainly my body could easily respond to his, he was pretty damn gorgeous and his cock enough to make my pussy dampen at the thought of riding it. But really? Was that just a fantasy I should keep locked up as a fanciful dream or did I want it to see the light of day?
Gabe emerged from the bathroom, the scent of showergel swirling around him with the steam.
“Damn, I’m knackered,” he said, flopping onto the bed.
“You look it,” I said. “I’ll have my shower now.”
I shut the door. St
ripped then stood beneath the hot water. I shut my eyes and held my face to the stream. What a day.
When I’d dried and put on a fresh pair of knickers, I wandered into the bedroom.
Gabe was sprawled on the bed snoring gently with his lips slightly parted. He reminded me of a child at Christmas who’d had more excitement with a new toy than he could take.
I went to the dressing table and thought about changing my nail polish which had chipped. But I decided against it. I’d do it tomorrow. Instead, I climbed onto the bed, curled my arm over Gabe’s waist, snuggled into his neck and let sleep wash over me.
* * * *
The next morning, I found myself back in the curiosity shop in Henley. The one I’d bought the sundial in. I browsed to the far end again and a small table mirror on an ornate stand caught my attention.
“Do you like it?”
I turned. An elderly gentleman, large jowls and narrow but friendly eyes, stood behind me.
“Yes, it’s beautiful.”
“It’s French,” he said. “I picked it up from a market outside Paris six months ago.” He reached for the slim pole between base and mirror, gripped it then upended the whole thing.
“It has a hallmark and it’s dated early last century. Quite the find.”
“I should say.” I examined it closer. It really was exquisite. I wondered how it would look in the hallway, on the narrow sideboard where currently the flowers Gabe had bought me stood. The crested tip and the detailed engravings on the base of the mirror were very pretty, plus the dull golden color appealed to me; it looked antique.
“How much is it?” I asked.
“For a pretty lady, one hundred,” he said.
I laughed. “And you picked it up for ten, I’m sure.”
“No, oh, no, I’m hardly making a profit.”
If I couldn’t see through him I’d be a terrible lawyer, but he had to make a living. “I’ll give you fifty, no more, I’m afraid.”
“No, that doesn’t match what I paid for it.” He shook his head but there was a sparkle in his eye; he was enjoying our banter.
“Mmm…” I rubbed my chin. “Well, how about sixty?”
“Ninety.”