She reaches up and wraps her hand around his wrist, leaning in slowly.
I watch as the two of them share their first kiss, and for the first time, instead of feeling jealous, I feel something else stirring inside me.
A desire so raw and intense that it makes me ache.
Finally, they part, and she looks at me, her gaze worried and searching. Mason turns to me, and I can see the dazed expression on his face. I know that expression. I know that feeling. Lizzy’s kiss is earth-shattering.
I find myself wondering how mine compares.
I grip the back of my best friend’s head and kiss him, and the sensations pour over me in waves. It’s so different than anything I’ve ever experienced before, rougher, more equal somehow. I’ve never actually kissed anyone who’s taller than I am, and it’s bizarre to be tilted upwards for a change.
But for all of the new weirdness I’m feeling, there’s also sort of an underlying sense of rightness. I may not know how it impacts my identity, but this is just the confirmation I’d needed to know the truth.
I am in love with my best friend. Both of them, in fact, but one of them is definitely more of a shocking revelation than the other.
When I finally pull away, I’m pleased to see that he looks just as starry-eyed and dumbstruck as he had after kissing Lizzy. Guess I’m evenly matched.
“So what’s that word for what we are again?” I ask her, “Polyambur-”
She giggles. “Polyamorous.”
“Well, where exactly does that leave us?” Mason asks.
“Together, I guess,” I reply with a shrug, “Or are there rules to this that I don’t know about?”
Lizzy shakes her head. “It is what we make it. If we love each other, we’re all consenting adults, right? No reason we can’t all be together.”
It seemed like a flawless solution, almost impossibly simple. “What’s the catch?” Mason asks, echoing my thoughts.
“The catch is that it’s gonna take communication and work,” Lizzy says, “Even more than any other relationship.”
“Does that mean we should slow things down?” I ask.
She eyes me in dismay. “You mean…physically?”
I nod, and she looks from me to Mason. “If you two are comfortable diving right in, I’ve waited ten years for the two of you,” she says, “We can sort out the rest later.”
Mason laughs. “I’m in.”
“Me, too.”
She lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness,” she says, then kisses us both and pushes us back towards the couch until we’re both seated.
She kneels in front of us and reaches out with both hands into each of our laps. I have to admit, I’m impressed when she manages both buttons and zippers one-handed, especially my own since I know she’s not a lefty.
Once she’s gotten both of us free, she glances at Mason for a moment before she wraps her long fingers around the base of his swollen shaft.
She turns to me next, with a question in her eyes, and I give her the faintest of nods in wordless consent.
What kind of idiot says no to everything he’s ever wanted?
Her left hand coils around my cock in a firm grip that steals my breath. Her palm is warm and silky, despite the strength of her hand, but the combination of that steel grip wrapped in satin feels un-fucking-believable.
The sounds of pleasure I hear coming from beside me indicate that Mason’s having a hell of a time, too. I can’t help myself, and I glance over. Lizzy is jacking Mason off with the same careful, measured pace she’s using on me, and when I tear my eyes away from his dick to finally look at his face, his eyes are closed and his head falls back against the couch as he groans.
I wonder if I could get him to make noises like that, faces like that.
So, when Lizzy leans in towards my erection and laps the beads of precum from the head of my cock, I decide to see if maybe I can. I reach over and place my hand gently over Lizzy’s, prying it away to replace it with my own. She glances up, and I see the corners of her lips curl in a small smile.