by Brit M.
“Better?” he stage-whispered.
“Yes,” she said.
It was like being caught on a roller-coaster, she thought as Paul helped her up onto the bed, his hands on the waist of her pants as she went, stripping her to her panties. They were matching purple lace she'd bought just for this moment, hugging the curves of her hips and ass. He eased off her low heels and stood behind her as she and Adrian eyed one another, her chest tight with desire and sudden nerves.
“You want us to tell you what to do, sweetheart?” he asked. “Too shy to choose?”
“Oh,” she gasped, and Adrian smiled.
“Paul,” he said.
“Yes?” the other man answered.
She glanced back, settling against the pillows. He was taking his shoes off by actually untying them, unlike Adrian. She wanted desperately to get his pants off, too.
“I'd like to taste Marissa, if you would indulge me and give her something to suck,” Adrian said, sounding courtly despite his intent.
It wasn't quite an order, but it was enough of a hint. She stayed still, eyes darting between them, her skin tingling with need to be touched. Adrian's hand slid up her calf and squeezed comfortingly at her knee before creeping further. Paul's pants fell to the floor with a thump and, to her surprise, he moved to lie next to her first. Her mouth was nearly watering with the thought of having him, but he cuddled up next to her side, his erection pressing against her hip. She reached down to palm him, finding that he was a bit thicker than Adrian. The velvety skin under her fingers was hot, smooth. She stroked him gently, running the palm of her hand over the head of his cock.
“Slowly, slowly,” Adrian murmured, easing her panties down her legs. She let him, pulse pounding as he stripped away her last shred of clothing, her ability to hide from them. “You're beautiful.”
The sight of him curled between her legs, one hand on his own cock and the other on her thigh, was enough to set her to shivering again. He was one to talk—the picture he made was unbearably pretty, suggestive. She wanted his mouth on her.
A part of her mind was still yammering away, “this is it, this is it,” as he laid his head against her thigh and just looked for a moment, his breath tickling her most intimate areas. This was where she couldn't take it back any longer. After this, they were having sex, they were fucking, these two men she barely knew but wanted so badly.
“Please,” she whispered.
Paul's body shifted against hers, cock pulsing once with interest in her loose hand. Her anxiety was equal with her desire for now, but she needed them to take her through this, help her through it, make her forget what she was afraid to try and enjoy what she discovered.
“What do you want?” Paul asked, and Adrian smirked at her from between her legs. “Do you want him to go down on you, or would you rather—” Paul pushed his hips forward, angling his hard-on toward the other man, and Adrian's eyes lit up mischievously. “Watch?”
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “Both.”
“We can do that,” Adrian said.
His hand wrapped around hers on Paul, showing her how to tighten her fingers, where to twist her stroke. Heat washed over her. That was so, so, so fucking hot it was dizzying. Then his head dipped and, without releasing her hand or Paul's cock, his mouth opened over the head. His lips slid down to bump their hands, plump and still dry. His tongue flicked out to taste her fingers mixed with his. She couldn't take her eyes away from the sight of him going down on Paul while they both held him.
“Damn,” Paul moaned, long and low.
Adrian drew back with a slurp, guiding their hands to stroke the slickness of spit he'd left behind. Marissa watched their equally pale fingers moving over flushed, dark skin. She couldn't press her thighs together for relief with Adrian between her legs, but he leaned down an inch further and instead his chest moved faintly against her. Tilting her hips to rub herself against him, a little awkward but enough to send pleasure rippling outward through her.
“I love oral sex,” Adrian murmured, shimmying down the bed.
The first burning, wet touch of his tongue-tip to her clit jolted Marissa with ecstasy, sudden and undeniable. She cried out softly, gripping the sheets with her free hand. That tongue swirled once, a slippery path of sparks and pleasures, before teasing at her again, just the tip on her. Her pulse seemed to be entirely in her cunt, throbbing, and her head tossed against the pillows as Adrian's ridiculously talented tongue made another circling swirl around the length of her clit. He laved his tongue over her next, almost lapping, broad soft strokes instead of pointed teases.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, realizing her hand had stilled on Paul, and resumed stroking, though slower and with more stops. “That feels so good.”
Adrian paused. “Vanilla boys ever make you come with their tongue in you?”
“Not really,” she panted. Jeff hadn't minded warming her up that way, but they'd usually moved on to sex. “Are—are you—”
“Oh, yes, sweetheart,” he purred.
His lips kissed her there, like he would kiss her mouth, sucking and licking and sliding the silken insides of his lips over her. She briefly considered that it must be more like what a blowjob felt like, the furnace inside of his mouth surrounding her. Moans slipped from her and her back bowed as he kept it up, a constant onslaught. Finally he returned to tight, swirling licks centered on her clit that built and built the waves of lust in her. She gasped, letting go of Paul to writhe and grasp at the headboard above her as the pleasure coiled harder, like the circles of Adrian's tongue on the most tender part of her body. He made hungry, moaning noises as he did it and she understood why people called it eating out.
He was devouring her, tasting her, consuming her.
She threw her head back as the pleasure crested sharply and opened her mouth to yell but nothing came out. Her muscles went taut and spasmed, shuddering. Adrian licked her through it, softer, easing her down. Paul made a rumbling noise of desire next to her and reached down to ruffle Adrian's hair.
Adrian lifted his face, mouth glistening with her juices, and grinned with satisfaction.
“That took maybe five minutes,” he said. “I'm so good, aren't I, pet?”
“God,” she laughed, shakily, letting her grip ease and her arms lower again. “Yes, yes, you are.”
“Do you feel more relaxed now?” Paul asked quietly.
She ducked her head. “So I was that nervous?”
“You were a little,” he confirmed. “Better now?”
“Yes,” she said.
Her body wasn't ready to be finished yet, and neither was she. The aftershocks of the quick, sharp orgasm were still tingling in her core but she looked down their bodies, taking in the sight of the erections. They weren't anywhere near done.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked curiously. “This is your fantasy, even though it's mine, too. What do you really want?”
Adrian rubbed his damp face on her thighs. “I do want to take turns tonight. I want to fuck you, make you come, then watch him do it. I want to have every inch of you.”
His fingers tightened almost convulsively on her thigh as he looked up, eyes heated. She swallowed hard, imagining that, feeling the contours in her mind—one after the other, having her, pleasuring her. Enjoying being with a woman. A part of her worried that was all it might be about, just her warm female body, but the tenderness in their touch and the fact that they'd thought to relax her first made that seem unlikely.
Yes, they wanted a woman. But she wanted men, men who would touch each other and fuck and love in front of her. So that was very fair. And, if she admitted it to herself, filthy hot.
“Condoms,” she reminded them.
In her head, she wished for a split second they didn't need them, and she could feel their come inside her while they shared her. The thought ripped a shudder through her that they felt, noticed, and grinned over.
“What were you thinking?” Paul asked.
“Tell us, shy
-girl,” Adrian prodded.
She had to clear her throat to talk. “Thinking about—your come, in me, when you traded. One of you fucking me wet with the other's come.”
Paul groaned into her hair and rutted briefly against her hip. Adrian's gaze seemed to grow even more intense. But they couldn't, that she was sure of. It just wasn't safe, wasn't a good idea—but God, to think about it, that was enough. One orgasm wasn't enough to take the edge off of that.
“I want to mess you up,” Adrian said.
“You like to talk, don't you?” she said.
“He really does,” Paul answered for him. “I think he's got a whole collection of sex metaphors stored in his head. He doesn't repeat himself much.”
“If you didn't react,” Adrian murmured with a flirtatious grin at his partner. “I would have left off doing it long ago and found something else to please you.”
Paul leaned down as Adrian stretched up and their mouths met. The blond man's lips were still damp from her and they both let loose quiet noises as they shared her flavor, lips pressed tight together and eyes shut. Things low on Marissa's body tightened at the erotic sight of them licking at each other's mouths, kissing so hard and deep they might bruise each other. Adrian crawled further into the embrace, rising up on his knees to hover over their reclining bodies.
If she thought watching them kiss was beautiful, watching him finally slip over her and come to rest lying on top of his partner was otherworldly. His smaller frame fit so well tucked around Paul's, legs spread across his thighs and groins pressed flush. Adrian ran fingers through Paul's hair and rocked against him, offering her brief glimpses of their cocks sliding against one another, and the man on the bottom moaned with abandon. Her whole body throbbed in time with that wanton noise. The idea of them with her had slipped out of her mind to be replaced with an unquenchable desire to see them together, as a voyeur, watch them make love to each other as they would in private.
So she said nothing as they bucked and moved together, never breaking their ferocious kiss even to gasp or groan. Sweat dewed their skin. Paul opened his eyes a fraction and glanced toward her. Whatever expression she was making seemed to please him as he closed his eyes again and reached down to grab Adrian by the firm, round globes of his ass and pull him in tighter. Then he rolled to the side, and she moved as well, letting him put Adrian between them.
She spooned herself against his back, wrapping her arms around both of them at once, pushing her hips against his butt. Paul's fingers and knuckles rubbed her hard, almost hard enough to hurt, as she thrust against him. She might not have the same equipment, but it was a delicious teasing pleasure to give herself indirect contact, rutting against his ass. Adrian himself was moaning almost continuously, low in his throat, and one of his hands fumbled back to grasp at her thigh. He pulled her leg up over the tangle of theirs, spreading her suddenly so the slick heat of her pussy ground directly against him.
Marissa gasped into his ear, a sound of pure pleasure. He shuddered. Paul's hands slipped out from between them and he fisted one in her hair, not too tight, but enough to sting sweetly. She yanked against it in a moment of curiosity and the resulting bolt of sensation that slammed down her spine to her cunt made her cry out. The pain was sweet, heady, but not too intense. He seemed to understand and wrapped his fingers tighter, drawing her to lean over Adrian and kiss him, her neck straining and her scalp aching as their wet lips slid together without purchase. They were more touching mouths than kissing, both distracted by the writhing heat of Adrian between them.
“God, switch sides,” he begged breathlessly.
“I thought,” Paul panted, “you wanted us both to fuck her?”
“Changing my order,” he whispered, eyes flashing a glimpse of blue as he rolled them up to look at her. “Want to get fucked. Sweetheart, if you had a strap-on, I'd let you—”
Whatever fantastic filth he'd been about to let loose, which she was sure she would have enjoyed, the wild rush of lust that spun through her at the very suggested was enough to drive her to capture his mouth with hers. He murmured against her kiss, twisting in their embrace until he was facing her, the pre-come-slick head of his dick nudging at her stomach.
“We'll buy one tomorrow,” Paul promised them from behind him, and his hand shifted Adrian's leg over hers, pressing them more intimately together. She wanted to move up an inch or three and let him slide inside her, but not yet, no protection on hand.
With the position, however, she could look down the length of their bodies and see Paul shimmy his toned, muscular body down the bed. His hand on the paleness of Adrian's ass as he spread him struck her again, almost as much as the sight of him pressing his mouth to his partner. Her jaw might have dropped.
Adrian yelped, a cute and still somehow sexy noise, and she assumed there must have been tongue contact. Then his whole body trembled, leg twitching over hers and cock pulsing against her belly. He closed his eyes, mouth open to pant, and she wondered—how good was it? What did it feel like to be licked there? She reached between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his dick, prompting another gasp.
Paul rolled away, reaching off of the bed, and came back with a condom and a bottle of lubricant. The size of the bottle made her raise her eyebrows, but then again, it was for a whole weekend. She took the foil packet and tore it open, then smoothed the rubber over Adrian's hard-on.
Another twist, another shift, and she was beneath him. His eyes were fever-bright and his lips swollen from kissing, a flush spreading down his pale chest. On anyone else, it might have been ridiculous, but it took her breath away to see him so flustered, the in-control dominant of the movie theater all but forgotten. Her ankles found their way over his shoulders and he bent her backwards, rising up on his knees to lean over her on all fours. The slide of his covered cock against her cunt was a wonderful feeling, so close, so ready. He was ridiculously hard. She was the one to guide him, so he could keep his hands braced while Paul dripped lubricant over his fingers behind them, making a show of it for her benefit.
Marissa held his stare as long as she could, but when the head of Adrian's cock pushed against her, her eyelids fluttered. She kept her fingers wrapped around the base of him, holding him just right so that when he thrust forward, he penetrated her with one smooth jerk of his hips. She gasped, the initial burn of stretch making her clamp her thighs around his waist. He gritted his teeth, eyes closed.
“Tight,” he managed to whisper. “God, fuck.”
It didn't hurt, or if it technically did, she enjoyed the sensation as he shoved harder against her and slid further in until the soft, trimmed blond curls on his lower belly brushed her. The rolled edge of the condom rubbed against her body. He was all the way inside her, filling her, and she tossed her head against the pillows as the way it felt. She'd forgotten, or never known, what it was like to want to be fucked so badly, to cling to every fraction of sensation as he moved above and inside her.
He was still, though, and she knew why. Paul's arm was moving, his hand hidden by the curve of Adrian's back, but he was obviously preparing his partner. She noticed he hadn't bothered with a condom, and knew he wouldn't, not with his lover. The pang that hit her then was unexpected and sobering, a bit of a distraction from the pleasure eating her up—she was a visitor here, between them. She was caught in their spell, wanting them, adoring them, but they weren't hers.
After the moment passed, neither man the wiser, she moved her hips experimentally, a small rolling shift that made Adrian's cock move perhaps an inch in and out, the smallest glide, but enough to set her nerves aflame. Everything in her lower body seemed to be clenched tight, holding him inside. She wanted more. A moan slipped from her throat. This was about the body, the need between them. It was spice that they loved each other, but she promised herself in that moment she wouldn't let their tenderness hurt her. That wasn't what they intended and it wasn't going to happen.
Adrian thrust once, short and sharp, and she clamped her li
ps shut around a gasp. His eyes were on hers, half-lidded with pleasure and need. He smirked. Paul was moving behind him, rising up on his knees and putting his hands on Adrian's hips.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart,” he whispered.
When Paul eased inside him Adrian shuddered over her and thrust again, a short motion, as if he couldn't decide whether to fuck himself backward onto the cock sliding into him or forward into her. He bent his head to her neck and licked a wet, tingling stripe from collarbone to ear. His teeth found her again as they had that night in the theater, and she had no way of holding back the cry that tore free when he bit down. Again, the flash of burning pleasure and the ache of strained muscle as he tightened his jaw and sank his teeth into the meat of her, marking her.
Paul began to move, one of his hands straying up to hold her ankle above Adrian's shoulder while he rocked forward in small thrusts, almost teasing. The breath rushed out of her, their weight folding her nearly double, and Adrian still hadn't let go, their rolling movement and sweet slow fucking dragging her flesh against his teeth. She nearly screamed, her nails finding Adrian's back and scraping down his spine. He arched convulsively away and into her grip at the same time, crying out, his bite finally loosening.
Marissa tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled, straining, wanting more than the short delicate thrusts they were making, as if Paul was afraid to jar them too hard. The dull, bruised pain from the fresh mark lanced through her, sharper than it had any right to be, as she bucked and writhed under them.
The slap of flesh on flesh increased as the other man bent low over Adrian's back and began truly fucking him, each impact of his hips driving Adrian's dick harder into her. They found a rhythm, a hard and slamming waltz of bodies. Marissa's eyes wouldn't stay open, her spine wouldn't straighten, and there was hair in her mouth. She didn't care.