“Jamie,” I panted. He liked that and pushed in faster. “Oh, Jamie…”
“Come on, babe, do it. Come for me, come now, come on, let me see you come,” he chanted. “Do it, baby, come for me.”
It didn’t take many strokes before the whole world paused, knowing that in a few seconds I would have an orgasm.
“Yeah, babe, come big,” Jamie whispered, my one-man cheering section, as he pulled out nearly all the way.
“Yeah,” Gage echoed.
I’d forgotten the second man. Jamie thrust himself in quickly, watching my face, then did it again. That was all it took for me to climax, not a big one but big enough.
He placed a soft kiss on my lips, then looked to one side. “She came. Could you see?”
“Yeah,” Gage said, a little breathless. “Yeah, she’s so damned beautiful; you both are. I saw everything.”
“Not yet, you didn’t,” my husband said, with a voice that held a wink. He pulled himself from me, massaging my wet lips with his hand, stroking the oozing center with one finger. “We’re just getting started. She can come two or three times, usually. Put it in her mouth.”
Gage looked to me for permission, but I was already reaching for him and arranging him in accordance with my daydreams. He straddled my body, his knees and shins on the sheepskin beside my ribs, rising above me like an Adonis. I could take him in my lips by raising my head and bending my neck.
Jamie toyed with me one-handed, careful not to arouse me so much that I couldn’t use my mouth well on Gage. I couldn’t see my husband, but his familiar touch held me at the right level. I had to rock my hips, tugging the sheepskin minutely, moving it toward my toes a quarter inch at a time.
Filled with fantasies, passion, and Gage’s thickness, my head became heavy. He held it in his laced fingers, helping me, but my neck’s protests grew. I let his salty rod slide out and worked the tawny wet flesh with my hand, looking up at him. He eased my head down to the smooth stones Jamie and I had laid together.
I found myself smiling at what else we were laying together.
“Here, let me,” Gage said and bent forward, supporting his upper body on his hands as if he were going to crawl, his manhood bumping my lips. I took him in at once, my eyes fixed on his ebony pubic curls tapering to a line of fine black hairs that led to his navel and the scar off to one side.
Jamie’s fingertip found my clitoris and massaged it so quickly it practically vibrated with need. He dipped a finger into my vagina, then eased it back to my clit, leaving a wet trail that felt as mystical as the silvery tracings of snails on our moonlit brick patio.
God, how I loved that man. Jamie diverted my attention, juicing his finger in my sopping vagina once, twice, then touched the tip to my anus. He paused, murmuring “All of it, all of it…” so I attempted to engulf more of Gage’s length. How did those porn girls in the magazines in Jamie’s truck take the man right to the base?
Above my head Gage moaned, dropping to his elbows. His thick penis entered my throat a bit, but at my choked cough he pulled back. “Sorry. You all right?”
“God, yes.” Despite the overwhelming sensation of Jamie’s finger toying with my anus, another in my vagina, and his thumb circling my clitoris, I sucked Gage eagerly and, I hoped, expertly.
Gage squirmed like an ecstatic puppy, then looked over his shoulder. I guessed he wanted to see Jamie’s reaction to his wife having some other man in her mouth to the tonsils, and the man loving the way she worked him. I wished I could see Jamie.
My husband’s voice was bedroom soft. “Take her. She’s ready. Got a condom?”
“Yeah, got a couple in my wallet.”
“How old?” Jamie handed Gage his pants.
“I just put them in there four or five days ago.”
Of course. He could have sex as often as he felt like it, and probably went through condoms like I did tea bags.
Gage pulled the small packet from the wallet and showed it to Jamie. “This okay? It’s lubricated.”
“Fine.” Jamie withdrew his fingers from me. I almost whimpered at their absence.
Gage opened the condom package. “Anything you want,” he said to Jamie, then clambered over me to reposition himself.
I had the sense to get all the way back on the sheepskin while he rolled the condom on. Gage’s penis spread my slickness to unaccustomed width. I lifted my legs, bent at the knee, and admired their golden tone from the firelight. Jamie’s hand urged my ankles higher and left them in the air; above Gage’s shoulder my husband seemed distant and very, very aroused.
Gage shifted his body, pushing deeper still and opening his own legs a little. He made a guttural noise of pleasure.
My tightness must have been good for him; his expression changed with every stroke. When we kissed, I could smell my own sex scent on his mouth and wondered if he could detect his on mine. I ran my hands down his body, reaching his buttocks easily. As he rocked deep in me, the muscles bunching beneath my hands felt springy and powerful.
The reach proved uncomfortable, so I let my hands settle higher on Gage’s back. He kissed me again, harder, plunging his tongue into my mouth, then pulled his rod from me slightly and thrust it in hard enough to scoot me and the sheepskin under my back an inch along the fire-warmed stones, while he drove his tongue into my mouth and crushed his lips on mine almost painfully.
I heard Jamie again, his voice breathy and excited. “Did you ever do this before?”
Gage pulled his mouth from mine. “Yes,” he said. “No. Not exactly this. God.”
“Is it good?”
Jamie knew the answer. Of course it was good. He could see as well as I how Gage wriggled with the sensations, how hard his kisses were.
“Yeah, it’s good, but…” Gage said.
“I know,” James said. “Tell me when to push.”
Chapter Seven
What? Damn that Bordeaux. Sure, I’d recognized Gage’s excitement. I’d fed it. Fed on it. Fueled my own. Taken credit. Given myself bonus points for overcoming the distraction of Jamie’s fingertip at my rear.
Not just mine; Jamie’s other hand had also been busy. When Gage had entered me, my husband entered him.
And Gage had let him.
A ménage à trois was one of the many daydreams Jamie and I had discovered we had in common. We’d never talked details. I’d assumed I would be at its center. Jamie, judging by his face, was ecstatic at one end, and I was no less aroused now that I understood I had the other. If Gage enjoyed being in the middle, why not?
Except that Gage had drawn his lips tight against perfect white teeth.
“Give him a minute, Jamie,” I said.
“Sure,” James replied. “All the time you need.”
“He won’t hurt you,” I assured Gage, even though the grimace announced that Jamie was already hurting him. I returned my hands to Gage’s buttocks and gripped him as low as I could before gently spreading his cleft. “Let me help you,” I whispered in his ear. For the first time I noticed a tiny stud in his earlobe, a dark jewel glittering purple-red in the firelight.
Jamie probably thought he had Gage’s dark jewel, or almost. I murmured to Gage, “Feel how deep you are in me, how hot I am, how wet, how open? I’m relaxed.” I kissed him, deliberately sloppy, running my tongue on his teeth and inside his lips before pressing as hard as he had kissed me. I pumped my sex on him the little our positions allowed, then squeezed his penis inside me, held it, and let the muscle go fully slack. “Feel the difference.” I gripped him again.
His smile seemed forced. “I do.”
“Make yourself jerk up, you know, inside me. It’s the same muscle. Yes, just like that. Hold it tight. Now let it go, all the way, relax, relax, let go completely. Feel where else you’re relaxing?”
I opened his buttocks wider, like a favorite book to be read to my lover. Jamie set his hand on mine, let it linger in a caress.
Gage muttered, “Okay, okay.” His dark brows arched, but his eyes remained closed. “Yeah. Push, now.” Gage’s eyes flew open, blinking fast, and he puffed hard through his nose.
“Stop, Jamie.” I dropped my voice to a murmur in Gage’s ear. “Practice with me. Tight, then loose. Good, now stay loose. Right. Now tight again. Very good. I mean, it’s good for me.” I had to squirm on his penis.
Gage laughed softly and kissed me.
“Do it again,” I whispered. His rod tugged upward hard enough to press my bladder a bit, then eased down and stayed there. “That’s right. I get excited just thinking about him putting it in you there. It’s not something we do.” The idea that Gage was in me at the same time was giddying.
I could have them both without being in the middle.
“Feel that, how slippery we are? Do that thing again. This isn’t your first time, is it?”
“No.”
“I want you to love having Jamie in you, the way I love you in me.”
“I do. God, yes. Push again.” A sharp intake of breath accompanied Gage’s grimace.
“It’s up to you,” I said. “Let go.”
“I can’t.”
“Pucker up. I’m going to love your mouth like it was something else, where Jamie is.” I kissed all around his mouth but not on it, then licked his pursed lips, just with the tip of my tongue, quickly. His lips trembled.
Maybe his anus did too. I licked slower, lingering a moment, slathering him wet, then gently let my tongue explore the little folds and bulges of his pursed lips. Pretending it was his anus, loving it the same way he’d licked mine, aroused me and seemed to do the same to Gage. Finally, I jabbed just once, lightly, at the tiny opening.
He jerked upward inside me, hard.
“Oh. Keep it up there, tight, yes, even tighter.” I twisted on his shaft. “Now let it drop. Just let go. Right, good. Anything else let go?” I thrust my tongue into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, sexy.
“Push again, James,” he said. “Real slow.” This time Gage didn’t wince.
“It’s so hot, isn’t it?” I whispered. “Good, stay loose for him. Jamie’s so long, and you want it all.”
“Yeah, I do. Okay, now.” Again he closed his eyes. “Yes, oh God, slow.” Gage gasped. “Slower. Yeah, like that.” He held still, barely breathing, while Jamie entered him in one prolonged penetration.
For a long moment we remained motionless. Gage’s sculpted face was rapturous and mine alone to view. He flexed the muscle that lifted his shaft inside me, and I squeezed him back.
Already deep inside me, Gage was now pinned in place by James’s entry. With the sheepskin and stone beneath me, I was too. Nobody but James could move more than a few centimeters where it counted.
“Back it up a little, Jamie,” I said.
“But not out,” Gage added.
Jamie must have pulled out most of his length. Gage’s shaft slid from me so far the head’s width stretched my opening, fatter than any part of Jamie. It hurt, which both puzzled and excited me. That feeling climbed when he glided home and I envisioned the fat glans spreading me inside too. He repeated the motion. A pleasure sound purred in my throat without me doing it.
Gage shifted his pelvis again, this time too far, leaving me empty. He let his weight rest on me while he fumbled in the narrow gap between us until his glans teased me wide with a shallow insertion, then drove in deep. When it withdrew, Gage and I shared a smile at Jamie’s rutting-animal grunt.
We worked through the awkward phase. At first I held still, and I think Jamie must have too. Moving between us at an unhurried pace, Gage worked his body and both of ours. I lost focus on anything but the way it felt. Several times I forced my eyes open, partly to remind myself what was going on and partly to watch the men.
Gage’s expression changed from essential handsomeness to ethereal beauty, his fevered eyes and small, knowing smile as beautiful as anything in my Aunt Donna’s art books.
After a few minutes of slow caution, Gage sped up. Since I could not draw too far back, I felt free to go forward, meeting Gage’s thrusts. James did too, because Gage said, “Oh, yeah, screw me right back, both of you. You’re so long, and I’m in so deep. Do me, James, do me good. Both of you.”
Our clumsy push-pull became a synchronized rhythm that transported us someplace unworldly. When one of us moved even quicker, we adjusted as instantaneously as birds in flight. The first time, we stayed at that pace until I thought I felt my sex literally heating from the friction. I was going to be sore tomorrow.
Maybe Gage felt the same thing, because he slowed on the very next stroke, and so did we all. In time we sped up again, although I could not say who started it.
We’d graduated from words to sighs and grunts and gasps for breath. Perspiration pinpricked Gage’s forehead and upper lip, and his back was slick with it. Our bodies made wet squashing sounds when we came together, and Jamie’s belly slapped Gage’s buttocks audibly. None of it was funny.
I wasn’t Natalie Felluca Bedwell having a three-way with her husband and a movie star. That would have been amazing, but this was better. I was raw sexuality, nothing else, a deliriously happy cog in a marvelous sex machine that would run all night and into the next day.
Gage’s penis jerked hard toward my bladder.
“Jesus,” Jamie said. “Not so tight.”
Gage’s response was a hard thrust that he did not pull back. He held still, then screwed his face into a gargoyle’s likeness. With an extended kitten-like mew, he throbbed inside me.
That set Jamie off. He bellowed like a bull moments later. Impossible as it seemed, I felt him come, a sort of vibration that traveled to Gage’s rod, still hard, still buried in me. He ground himself on my swollen clitoris. It made me come, the writhing, stop-breathing kind that used to make Jamie think he’d hurt me.
For a minute, maybe two, none of us said anything, or even looked one another in the eye, just fluttered back to earth as our breathing slowed.
“Oh, man. Men, I mean,” I said, my voice shaky. “I told you two was better.”
James and I were connected by the handsome man between us, a conduit to the love we shared. We remained connected even after Jamie, his voice concerned, said, “Don’t let me hurt you,” and pulled himself from Gage, who appeared relieved.
His shrinking penis eeled from my body. Gage pushed his hand between us with some urgency. It took me a moment to understand that the condom had begun to slip off and he’d made sure it couldn’t. It had been years since Jamie and I had used them.