15. 14
It’s been a day. There’s so much going on that I spend half the day worrying about something. Not that it’s doing me any good, but the worrying won’t get me anywhere. Have you ever managed not to think of a pink elephant when someone tells you not to think about one?
Exactly.
Chester drove me home, equally stressed out, to have our front door opened by one stunning Mister Ashburn, who intuitively knew we might need a little pick me up. The whole living room was rearranged, the furniture pushed to the side, and the entire floor covered with blankets and pillows, lit up by at least a hundred candles spread out throughout the whole room. I have no idea where the hell he got all that stuff, because it’s not usually in our house. Did he buy blankets, pillows, and candles for this purpose only?
Steaming bowls of curry were waiting for us, because it’s still the only dish he can make, and we sat down and started eating in silence.
It’s quite obvious what’s going to go down after this, but we can do it on a full stomach and have some energy to burn. Placing our empty bowls somewhere on a little side table that is completely in the wrong place after the rearrangements, we all find a certain place to sit where we fit. Despite having the whole living room to ourselves, we huddle together in roughly the same two square yards.
Remy and Chester keep giving me looks that make me feel mushy on the inside. We’ve been together before, but this feels very set up. I’m not complaining because I like where this is going, even if none of us have to say what’s going to happen out loud. I’m unsure if it’s deliberate, but we keep shifting closer together.
We’ve all got the same thing on our minds.
The silence lingers on while hands start caressing all over. I just need to be with them, close to them, feel connected. There’s nothing heated about what we’re doing, it’s tenderness and nearness.
All ripped to pieces when the buzzer of the front door goes off.
Chester takes his phone out of his pocket and raises an eyebrow when he looks at his screen. He gets up and makes his way to our front door while he leaves me alone with Remy, who’s busy rubbing my feet and rocking my world with it. There may or may not be some moaning from that sensation alone.
“Hey,” Chester says when he comes back into the living room again, making both of us look up. Beckett is with Chester, looking all kinds of dark, brooding and handsome. His jacket and shoes are off, so I guess Chester has decided he’s staying as well, which I’m all aboard for.
Remy releases my foot, kisses my shoulder and then pushes himself up from the ground, leaving me on the floor on my own. Everything kind of just became awkward, which I wish it wouldn’t. It’s not for long though, because Chester sits back down, retaking the spot he just vacated, lying down propped up on one arm and stroking my arm with the back of his finger.
Beckett observes for a while, giving the room a quick look and figuring out what’s happening. He takes three hesitant steps before sitting on the floor as well, rearranging some of the pillows. He looks so out of place it’s almost funny.
He does not appreciate how I smile, scowling back at him.
Remy enters with another bowl of curry, handing it to Beckett before he sits back down again. This time, he sits opposite to me, making it so that we’re almost forming a circle and everyone can see one another.
“What’s with the long face?” Remy asks Beckett while he picks my foot up again and resumes his rubbing.
Beckett takes a bite of his curry, staring down into his bowl. We all give him the time to speak up. After a few bites, he says: “I hate that there’s someone dirty on the inside and now I’m here, messing up your romantic evening.”
Remy chuckles. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t bothered by that, and you’re not messing anything up. You’re very welcome here tonight.”
“Just put on your romantic face or something,” Chester says, looking kind of pained. I think he’s trying to look romantic himself but failing miserably.
“The romance thing is mostly Remy,” I add.
“It’s true. These two barbarians would just go through life without any effort. Not a romantic bone in their bodies.”
“Hey!” I shout. “I object to that!”
“Name one romantic thing you’ve done,” he dares me.
“I chose you.”
The rubbing of my foot halts for a moment, while he looks at me like he sees me for the first time, stars twinkling in his eyes.
“I’ll give you that, smartypants. Other than that, romanceless.”
“Romance is unnecessary,” Chester states.
“Kind of depends on what the receiving party thinks about that,” Beckett says. “If one expects romance and the other doesn’t, there’s a problem. If nobody cares for it, it’s all good.”
“That something you do? Focus on what your partner wants?” Remy asks.
“I’m a profiler. I always pay attention to how others react. What their needs are. I think if you can find some common ground in what you want, you can figure something out.”
“And what do you want?”
“I want to be with Abby. That’s all. In whatever way or shape that may be, as long as I get to be with her, I’ll find common ground.”
Remy points to the living room. “This,” he says. “This being together as one. It doesn’t have to be your thing. We’ve all found a way to be together. As in, all together. That doesn’t have to be you. You could choose to just want to be with Abby when it comes down to intimacy.”
“Just call it what it’s called, love,” Chester snaps. “It’s called sex, and if you’re not comfortable doing it in a group setting, you don’t have to. You can still be with Abby without doing it this way.”
Beckett scoffs. “I’ve never thought I’d end up in a relationship with two guys, so I’m taking this all as it comes.”
Chester opens his mouth, but Remy holds up a finger, giving him a stern look. “Don’t you dare make a joke about coming right now.”
If looks could kill, Remy would be dead by now. I chuckle. That’s exactly what Chester was going to do. Remy doesn’t give a shit, he just shifts his attention back to Beckett.
“But you’re okay with guys being together?”
“You realize my partner is a lesbian? I’m all pro same-sex love. Or whatever’s on the rainbow flag.”
“I know, but it’s different when it’s happening right in front of you and clothes come off. Or, well, I think it can be different for people. I’ve never seen the problem.”
Beckett lets himself fall back, hanging on his elbows. “My best friend, Raf, is gay. We met in training for the FBI and rented an apartment together for a while. Ate, trained, breathed and lived together for a while. Communal showers and all. The number of times he asked me if I was sure I didn’t like men was countless, leaving him disappointed every time the answer hadn’t changed. Anyway, him liking me didn’t stop him from bringing random men home and having sex in our apartment. I have no problem with naked men having sex.”
“You just don’t want to have sex with men yourself,” I summarize.
“I’m just not wired that way,” he admits, almost ashamed.
“That’s fine,” Remy says. “Not everyone has to be.”
Chester scoots over and takes my hair out of my neck. He leans forward, nuzzles my neck, and kisses me gently before softly saying, “Damn shame though.” I want to laugh, but he kisses that one spot beneath my ear that takes my breath away.
Beckett takes a few quick bites of his food, before putting the bowl away. He sits a few feet away from us and he watches everything that’s going on like a hawk. It’s the last thing I see before I let my eyes fall closed and focus on the way Chester is kissing my neck and Remy is rubbing my feet.
It’s everything.
Maybe I should give romance a second chance.
“Sure you don’t want me to just leave?” Beckett asks.
“No, stay,” I say without thinking. “Do you want to leave?”
“Maybe I should,” he says.
Chester lifts his head and stops kissing my neck, which is a shame, and he stares at Beckett, who’s keeping his distance.
“The way the button of your jeans is almost popping off, I’d say you don’t really want to leave.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not,” I say.
Remy has reached his limit it seems. “Take her pants off.”
I focus on Beckett, just to see how he responds. I’m pretty sure he can be a team player, but I’m not too sure how well he takes directions.
He hesitates, but then gets up and kneels back down beside me. He swallows before he seeks me out. “Is that okay?”
His emerald eyes gleam with a mix of arousal and nerves.
“It is,” I say, my voice sounding way more husky than it was before.
“Why do you ask?” Chester asks, curiosity mixed with emotion in his tone.
“Because consent is crucial,” Beckett answers immediately. He then puts his focus on me and starts unbuttoning my pants. The pad of his thumb strokes over the skin on my belly that’s not covered by my clothes, and I get goosebumps.
“You’re a better man than I thought, Becky,” Chester says, his voice thick, before he takes my chin in his hand and starts kissing my neck again.
I weave my fingers through his hair, pulling him in while he kisses my neck. Remy is still rubbing my feet, working his way up to my calves beneath my pants. Pants that Beckett is unzipping. He gently pushes his hands beneath the fabric, gliding to the side of my hips, before he grabs the waistband and starts shimmying them down. I lift my ass so he actually can do so.
Beckett and Remy work together to get the pants off of me, leaving me in a deep purple thong. Ever since I’ve been getting undressed by people other than myself at the regular, I’ve started wearing nice underwear. They’re still comfortable and practical, but I pick out the pretty ones.
Beckett grunts in approval, and the sound makes me shudder.
Chester brings his mouth to my ear, peppering me with kisses all over until he gets there. “They both look like they want to devour you,” he breathes into my ear.
I look at them, finding the hungry look in their eyes. I’m in for a world of trouble. I can barely handle these three men on their own. Now that they’re teaming up, I’m not so sure I’m going to survive.
Beckett’s rough hands grab both my knees, pushing my legs up, my feet on the ground. His hands glide over my thighs, stroking up and down, until he uses his thumbs to trace the outline of my thong up to my hip bone.
My back arches unwillingly, a soft moan of anticipation leaving my lips.
“Undress her,” Remy says, his voice leaving no room for disobeyment. My eyes lock with his while he sits on his haunches, combing a hand through his hair as he observes how Chester and Beckett quickly take my clothes off.
I help Chester get my arms out of my Henley, never breaking eye contact with Remy. It hurts when I suck in my bottom lip and start biting down. The cool air against my naked skin is in shrill contrast to the softness of the blankets and the warmth radiating from all the candles.
Hands roam over my body, stroking me and touching me everywhere.
“Make her feel good,” Remy says.
Chester doesn’t have to be told twice. His lips hover over my nipples, the air he breathes shifting between a warm and a cold sensation. He weighs my breasts with his hands, holding them, squeezing, kneading. The tip of his tongue flicks against the hardened bud, circling it, sending electricity through all my nerve endings.
Meanwhile, Beckett’s calloused hands discover my legs, positioning my legs just the way he likes them to be, opening me up for him.
Without warning, he lets one finger glide through my folds, the slickness of them making it easy for him to get through it. He moves his finger to his mouth, sucking my arousal of it, meeting my eyes. The moment he tastes me, something seems to change. This primal part of him awakens.
He shifts down, grabs my left leg and lays it over his shoulder. His head moves down, and before I know it, he bites my ass cheek. Hard. It’s going to leave a fucking mark. And I couldn’t care less. He kisses the ache away and plunges himself in my pussy. He sucks my clit, bites down on it and releases it. He doesn’t give me any time to prepare for the way he greedily licks up and down between my folds, like a starving man being presented a meal.
It’s almost too much.
Remy releases a strangled sound, and I momentarily look at him. He hasn’t moved an inch, and seems to just be observing us.
“You’re just gonna sit there?” I pant.
“I think you know a little about what it can be like to sit and watch.”
I remember the afternoon I came home and watched Chester and him go at it. I didn’t feel like I missed a thing that day, and nobody touched me. I can understand how it would work to just enjoy what you’re seeing, but this is Remy’s romantic evening and I’d really like him to be involved in this.
“Come here,” I ask, the words just above a whimper because it’s the exact moment Chester bites down on my nipple.
“Maybe I just want to tell you all what to do,” he says.
Chester releases my nipple. “Hell no, get over here.”
Remy smirks. It’s obvious we’re all a little uncomfortable while at the same time not giving a crap about it. He comes over, kisses Chester’s shoulder and then moves to the other side. With Chester on my left and Beckett between my legs, Remy lies down on my right.
He scoots down, kisses my shoulder, and reaches around me so he can unceremoniously plunge two fingers inside me while Beckett keeps licking my clit. Everything happens so fast and transitions so naturally, I give in to the moment and just feel. I feel myself clamping down on Remy’s fingers.
Wherever my hands roam, I’m met with warm, hard muscle.
Chester switches between kissing my boobs, my neck and my mouth. Sinful sounds leave my body, and the build-up between six hands and three mouths is astronomical. Whenever my mother made up that story about proving your love by stealing the moon, this must be it because I’m seeing stars and I feel an orgasm coming in with the force of an asteroid the size of the moon.
My muscles contract and I’m left breathless. My whole body is tingling with pleasure, and it takes forever for the feeling to subside. I’m severely out of breath, but it doesn’t look like I’ll get a moment to come down.
“So, now you’re all warmed up. Are you ready to get prepped?” Remy whispers in my ear.
I turn my head, staring at him so closely that our mouths are practically touching. I bite my lip, earning myself some time to think my answer through.
“What are we doing?”
“Double penetration, if you’re up for it?”
“I’ve never done that,” I admit.
“What, taking two guys at once or anal?” Remy asks.
“Both.”
Beckett cocks his head, asking me a wordless question.
“If you only ever have one-night stands, you don’t really get to the point of going there,” I explain.
“Beg to differ,” Chester says, and I punch him in the arm when I see the way he smirks at Remy, who rolls his eyes in return.
“Well okay, Mister Sex-God. It just never happened.”
“But you’re up for it?” Remy asks. As always, he seems to be most in control over everything that’s going on. He accepts and doesn’t judge, completely at ease with everything he thinks and feels. His inhibitions are naturally not there.
“I’m willing to try.” I’ve got some nerves about the whole thing, but I walk into new, dangerous situations on a weekly basis without an ounce of hesitation. Why would I suddenly be afraid of this? I like trying new things and I can handle some discomfort. It’s mainly the idea that I’m afraid of what these men will think. I don’t give a crap about what the social norm is, but I do give a crap about how these men see me. I don’t want any of them to think that they’re not enough. All of them just speak to different parts of my heart.
Then a thought hits me.
“I need Chester to do it,” I suddenly blurt out. Having him be the one who’s the one I try this with first is only fair. After all, he trusted me with being his first as well.
With gentle eyes and a small smile, he strokes me with the back of his fingers, letting me know he understands why I need him to do it.
“I’ll actually need lube this time,” he says, referring to his marvel about women not needing lube to have sex. I grin a goofy smile.
“Beneath the coffee table,” Remy says.
“You really prepared,” Beckett says, seemingly impressed.
“Well, I had a free afternoon and a key, so it was practically written in the stars,” he deadpans, making me laugh.
“Yes, free afternoon and key equals orgy. I get it,” Beckett answers.
Chester retrieves the bottle of lubrication, the inside of my belly feeling all kinds of fluttery. My cheeks feel warm, just like my ears, and part of me is nervous while the other part is excited. And suddenly, I’m weirded out. It must be showing on my face.
“What?”
“Maybe you should get undressed first before you start touching my most intimate parts. I think it’s just fair.”
Beckett starts laughing and pulls off his shirt before I can start worrying about whether he’ll be self-conscious being naked around Remy and Chester. His laughter seems to have a soothing effect on all of us because all the men lose their clothes while I get comfortable in my own skin, and the idea that this is really happening. Have I given it thought ever since we’ve started dating this way? Hell yes. But horny thoughts are something completely different to reality.
I catch all of them casting glances, and I guess that’s to be expected. I’d say this is something coming straight out of a wet dream for me, but even in my wildest dreams, I would not come up with this on my own.
Chester changes places with Beckett, getting between my legs, while Beckett latches onto a nipple. Remy’s mouth crashes down on mine, and I only realize how nervous I am when I feel the way his kiss relaxes me.
In the back of my head I’m waiting for cold, slick fingers to touch my hole, but warm kisses get pressed against my leg instead, starting all the way up at the inside of my knee, working his way down. The three day stubble he has going feels tender against the skin of my leg, but gives it that extra bit of roughness as well.
And like it’s the most normal thing in the world, Chester brings his mouth down on me, kissing the sensitive skin around my hole. He gently uses his tongue to rim me, and had he not done it once before, I’d be shocked as hell. Now I just gasp for air, letting the sensation overtake me.
Beckett’s mouth disappears, and I catch him staring at what Chester’s doing, entranced by what he sees. I’d pay a pretty penny to see what’s going on inside his head right about now.
Remy kisses me like my life depends on it, taking his time, languidly making love to my mouth. I’m so loving the kiss. I miss the sound of the bottle of lube opening up before I feel the warmth of Chester’s mouth replaced by a cold drizzle, making me gasp for air.
In the exact moment Chester brings a finger to my entrance, Beckett sucks on my collarbone, leaving a mark for sure. Just what I need, physical evidence for the whole world to see what I’ve been up to.
I don’t get any time to sulk about it because Chester gently pushes a finger in. This part is still familiar. This much I can take. It’s the bit that’s bound to come after that’s getting me nervous.
Remy grunts in approval, making my whole body shiver.
“That’s it,” Chester says, the sound of his voice slightly muffled because his mouth is kissing the inside of my thigh. “Keep on relaxing for me. Yeah. Right there.”
I whimper.
And then he slides in a second finger. He passes the resistance of the inner muscles without any discomfort and slowly moves them in and out. It’s a weird sensation at first, but it’s mainly the newness of it.
Like clockwork, Beckett and Remy switch, where Beckett’s mouth lands on mine and Remy starts kissing my neck, my chest and every piece of skin he can find in between.
By the time Chester starts scissoring his fingers, I’m panting. All my inhibitions have gone overboard and I’m curious as to what it is that’s going to happen right now. Even if it’s nothing, even if it’d all end now, I still would feel so incredibly wanted, warm and loved that I’d feel satisfied.
I’m so relaxed I don’t even notice the stretch of a third finger that much.
“What’s the plan?” Chester asks, his voice raspy and thick.
Remy reclaims his role of stage director - it’s his setup after all. “I think it’s most comfortable if she straddles one of us. You go in from behind and whoever’s left chokes her on his dick.”
“I thought you were the romantic one,” I joke.
“You just can’t stand the idea of someone else calling the shots,” he says, winking at me. And I mean, he isn’t exactly wrong. Remy moves away from my body and lies down on his back about a foot away from me. He takes my arm, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me towards him.
“Now, just ignore every instinct you have and just surrender. Trust us to make this good for you. Let go for a while.” The way he’s pulling me against him makes me straddle him. He holds the fat head of his dick in front of my opening, looking me in the eye and waiting for me to agree. I simply sit down, watching the way his look changes from waiting into one of need and enjoyment.
I bend forward, suck in his bottom lip and bite down. “Okay,” I whisper.
The grunt I hear doesn’t come from Remy. It comes from Beckett instead. I turn, finding him with hooded eyes, watching the scene unfolding right in front of him with thrilled anticipation.
All the worries I had about this, us being together sexually, jealousy, not being able to co-exist – it’s gone.
It’s the exact moment I can indeed let go.
Remy widens his knees, creating enough room for Chester to get in between his legs and opening my legs even further in the process. When a hand strokes between my shoulder blades, I startle. I do not expect the extra hand, even if I know how many people are in the room.
I tense momentarily, but Remy kisses me with such tenderness I forget about it straight away, and when Chester presses his cock against my hole, I’m too preoccupied with Remy’s kiss to be worried.
My mouth falls open when Chester presses his dick in an inch. It stretches me wider than I’ve been stretched before. The sensation, combined with sitting on Remy’s cock, is almost overwhelming. It’s foreign, sinful, and just on the edge between pleasurable and painful. It’s my favorite edge in the whole world.
“You okay?” Chester asks.
I can’t speak. I just nod, and I can feel the smile on Remy’s face. Chester slowly inches in, and I have to remind myself to keep breathing. I’m so incredibly, deliciously full.
“That’s it. You take us so prettily,” Remy says in awe.
The compliment makes the sting disappear. Holy fucking hell. Am I really doing this? Why haven’t I done this before?
Chester takes his time with me, going slow, sliding in inch by inch, until I can feel the tops of his legs against the back of my thighs. Chester’s breathing is labored, and he keeps still when he bottoms out.
“She’s so fucking tight,” he grunts so quietly I’m not sure anybody is meant to hear it.
“That’s to be expected for a first timer,” Remy says. In the moment I open my eyes, I catch him looking over my shoulder at Chester. It’s like they’re having their own private moment.
“Ready?” Remy asks, and I think the question is directed at me.
“Hmm,” is all I can manage to say.
Remy tentatively thrusts inside of me, coaxing a moan from both Chester and my lips.
“I can feel you moving,” Chester marvels.
It’s like it’s the starting signal for both to start fucking me, finding a rhythm where they alternate between each other. All my nerve endings are lighting up like a Christmas tree, and I bask in the glory. I’m rendered speechless, motionless and thoughtless, lost in an undercurrent of pleasure that sucks me into uncharted territory.
I’m pulled out of my own little universe when my chin is lifted. Beckett stares down at me, his thumb stroking my bottom lip. He sits on his knees next to all our bodies, looking like he belongs here and there never was any doubt about that. The way he looks at me makes me moan, especially when Chester and Remy seem to take everything up a notch.
“Can you take more?”
I can’t speak because who the fuck needs words in their life, so I just open my mouth, telling him everything he needs to know.
He grabs the base of his cock, tapping the tip against the exact spot on my lip he just stroked with his thumb. I stick out my tongue in an attempt to lick his cock, but being bounced as I am by the way I’m fucked makes it so that I just graze his dick by pure luck.
It only seems to spur him on.
He shifts his hips, pushing himself forward and into my mouth. While I try to relax my jaw, he holds onto my head, gently starting to fuck my mouth as far as someone can gently do such a thing.
I’m in a world where I no longer care.
All I feel is pleasure.
Somebody uses a hand to flick my clit, and just like that, I detonate. I try my best not to bite down on Beckett’s shaft, but I’m no longer fully in control over what happens to my body. I’m in the hands of three very capable men who lift me to greater heights each passing second.
When I partly come to my senses, Beckett’s thick shaft pounds against the back of my throat, making me gag. It’s Remy who tangles his fingers through my hair after letting go of my clit, keeping my head in place.
Tears running down my cheeks mix with post-orgasmic bliss – the sting of fingers pressing into the bones in my hips holding the promise of a visual memento tomorrow.
I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make it through any kind of workout tomorrow.
The sounds we make are sinful. Slapping of bodies, suction, grunting, heavy breathing, moaning. It’s a cacophony of dirty indulgence, reaching an unexpected crescendo with a sharp slap, echoing in a sting on my ass.
That’s going to leave a fucking mark.
He reaches his hand around, seeking out my throbbing and overly stimulated clit.
“Again,” he growls.
I whimper.
“I know you’ve got one more.”
I’m not so sure about it. My body feels spent, abused even – but in a good way.
Remy lifts his head off of the ground, kissing my neck. Not giving a shit, he almost gets slapped by Beckett. He kisses that one spot beneath my ear that makes me go wild. Bringing his mouth close to my ear, he grunts: “Three is the magic number today. One for each of us. Now do it.”
I recognize the authority in his voice, and I know better than not listening. Setting aside the tenderness of my body, I focus on the ripples of pleasure that are there. There’s so much going on.
Remy lets go of my hair and moves his hand to my throat, wrapping it around it and squeezing. I know he must feel Beckett moving in there, but I don’t fucking care. The lack of oxygen makes me squeeze all my muscles, sending the blood to all the right places and increasing all my senses.
Just when I’m about to tap out, I feel the beginnings of a lazy yet soul-crushing climax coming on.
And just like that it possesses my body.
The whole experience is teetering on that edge between pain and pleasure, and I hold on for as long as I can.
Until I come crashing down.
Remy releases the grip on my neck. Some sort of desperate war cry replaces the sound of my own blood pulsing through my veins and Beckett’s throbbing dick in my mouth. He’s in so deep I don’t even taste his load before it’s gone.
They all follow, like a set of dominoes falling down.
Chester stills behind me while I get bounced on his dick due to Remy’s movements, who, in turn, goes slack not long after Chester is done and fills me up as well.
Yeah, I just got thoroughly fucked.
I’m not exactly sure how we all untangle, but we end up spread out over the blankets on the floor. I’m going to be sore tomorrow. Just not sore enough not to want to do that again sometime soon.
Remy is mindlessly stroking a finger up and down my spine, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat.
“To be perfectly safe,” he says, his eyes closed and his breathing mostly under control again, “please tell Beckett you like the choking before I get arrested again.”
I chuckle, so does Beckett.
“Don’t worry,” he says, giving me a dirty look. “I liked it too.”