Stephen is standing by the edge of the bed, wiping the edge of his mouth a little with the hint of a smug smirk curling his lips.
Joel gets off the bed and stands beside him, then yanks the other man in for a kiss. I wonder briefly if he can taste himself, and despite the fact that I’m still coming down from one climax, the idea has me ready to go all over again.
When Joel breaks the kiss, he moves over to the nightstand and rummages around for a moment. I’m not sure what he’s doing until he moves back to Stephen and hands him a foil square. “She’s all wet and ready for you,” he murmurs.
Stephen looks at the condom in his hand, then at me, then at Joel, and slowly nods and tears open the package. My heart skips a beat. Holy shit. Joel just handed Stephen a condom so he can watch me get fucked by another man.
It feels weird, like I’m betraying him somehow even though he’s right here and part of this. But I remind myself how it felt to watch him and Stephen and that maybe he’s feeling the same way, and it helps me relax.
“What’s your favorite position?” Stephen asks me while rolling on the condom, surprising me a little.
“I-I don’t know. Don’t know if I have one,” I admit, “It sort of depends on my mood.”
“Do her from behind,” Joel suggests, “She loves it when you run your nails down her back.”
Stephen nods, and I get up onto my hands and knees, arching my back. He positions himself behind me and bends over. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks softly, “We can stop anytime if you’re not cool with this.”
I shake my head furiously. “I’m fine. I want this. I’ve wanted this for a while,” I admit, almost to myself more than him.
And it’s true. I love Joel, more than my own life, but this curiosity and attraction to Stephen has been eating me alive. And knowing that it’s not just me…maybe there’s something to it. Maybe the fact that Joel and I both feel this pull to him means that…oh, I don’t know. It’s cheesy, but it feels like the three of us belong together somehow.
And as Stephen slides into me, filling and stretching me, it feels so strange and new, and yet so right. Joel moves in front of me, kissing me and playing with my tits while Stephen fucks me.
If there’s jealousy, I don’t see it. I sure haven’t felt it myself. It’s just pleasure and fun, the three of us enjoying each other.
“Oh, fuck, right there,” I whimper when Stephen hits a particularly good spot, “Yes, yes, harder!”
“That’s it, baby,” Joel croons, “You getting close? You gonna cum for us?”
“Yes,” I whimper, “Please make me cum.”
“Don’t tell me,” He says with a smirk, “Tell the one who’s gonna make it happen.”
I turn to Stephen, blushing a little. “Please,” I whimper, “I’m so close.”
“Fuck,” Stephen groans, a shudder rippling through him.
He sucks in his breath and his hips snap against mine, driving into me hard, and I let out a cry of pleasure. “Oh! Fuck, yes, again!” I beg.
Again and again he slams into me until I’m screaming and shaking, the orgasm tearing through me. With a final, deep thrust and a feral growl of bliss, Stephen tips over the edge with me.
The three of us collapse in a tangled heap, Stephen and I both panting hard. Joel’s had time to come down, so he just covers our faces in kisses and strokes our hair.
All this because I made too much fucking pasta.
Chapter Eight
Joel
I stare at the circle of batter on the pan blankly, waiting for it to bubble. I feel like I’m on another planet right now.
Upstairs, my girlfriend is still asleep, tangled in bed with another man. A man who had sucked the very soul out of me through my fucking cock last night before railing the woman I love while I watched.
I still can’t fully believe it actually happened. If I hadn’t woken up with his bare chest against my back and his arm draped over me, I might have been able to convince myself that it was all just a dream. But it was real. Oh, so very real.
And it was fucking incredible. All of it. I expected part of it to be weird, or uncomfortable, but it was amazing through and through. I don’t think there’s any denying anymore that I fall somewhere on the bisexual spectrum.
But what does it mean? Where does this take us? Part of me is honestly afraid to ask for fear of it all falling apart.