Tres

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A short story about a threesome.
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I choose the black chair and sit, nervously tapping my foot. A beautiful complication sits to my right, staring me down as if I were an evil character in one of his favorite cartoons. Pokemon or Power Rangers, perhaps. I’m waiting for a man that isn’t known for his punctuality. Ten minutes pass. Fifteen now. (Impatient is my middle name) My mind races frantically. Words blend so seamlessly with the background noise, that it hasn’t even occurred to me that the other woman waiting was attempting to chat me up.

He walks in the front door. Comfort washes over me instantly, but the anxiety hasn’t subsided. I am unusually quiet -- again. I move to the sofa and sit next to her. The other woman. Rotation begins, and I take a hit. The harsh but familiar smoke fills my lungs. Exhale. Twenty minutes passed? I look at the clock. Two. Two minutes, not twenty. Time seems to be standing still. The cartoons have been replaced by music. I just realized the child is gone. (The babysitter picked him up at least an hour ago.)

I sit back and my body seems to melt into the sofa. The drugs have taken over me, but subconsciously I know why I am there. He moves closer to us. He rubs our legs with his close-to-perfect hands. He wants us to kiss, but neither of us budge. (I don’t even know if I can move.) I look at him, as he kisses her. Jealousy crosses my mind, and I sit up. I moves closer to him and our lips meet. The sweet taste of his saliva enters my mouth, and everything in the room disappears. He gently pulls away, and the room’s surroundings are restored.

He wants to go somewhere else. The bedroom, the floor, just not the couch. I stand up and head for the room. I finally take off my jacket. I must have forgotten to take it off earlier. I put it on something black and boxy, but I’m not quite sure what it is. The room is dark, mostly. Two small candles give off very little light. He is already unclothed, and laying on the bed. (God, he is fucking sexy.) I watch her take off everything but a tank top. My pants drop to the floor. I unzip my top, exposing a pink bra with black lace.

My thong is also black lace. The back of it sits so adequately under my sexy tattoo. He likes that tattoo. He mentioned it once or twice in conversation. I sit beside her, and in front of his legs. She is sitting up more towards his face. Jealousy -- again. I love his face. His sexy eyes. His soft supple lips. Instead of complaining, I kiss her. I slip my tongue into her mouth, but I don’t sense approval. I shift my mouth to her breast. They are larger than mine. (At least a cup larger.) My hand gently massages him, while my lips entertain her nipple.

Switch.

I lie at the top of the bed. She is lying next to me, side by side. He starts licking her pussy, as fingers find their way inside me. Whose are they? Hers. I feel the scratchiness of fake fingernails. He stops. He moves closer to me, and licks my folds softly. The room, has it disappeared again? (No, it’s still there)

Switch.

I stay at the top of the bed. I feel her tongue on my clit. He is behind her. Fingernails find their way, once again. This time they aren’t in my pussy. They feel exceptional. I wrap my hands up in her hair, pushing her face deeper. I notice a rip in the shade, and I can vaguely see the streetlights. (The weed must be wearing off.) I watch him, watching me. I moan to the rhythm of the tongue flickering on my clit.

Switch.

I am on my hands and knees, ass facing him. I put my fingers in her pussy, and bury my face. It doesn’t taste as bad as I thought it would. As I lick her, I think about sucking his cock. He is behind me, but he hasn’t fucked me yet. (Technical difficulties?) It doesn’t matter. I am enjoying myself too much to care. His fingers are incredible. They are in my pussy, in my ass, in both? I can’t even concentrate. I continue to lick. The woman underneath me is moaning, as I thrust my fingers deeper. It pleases me knowing that I am pleasing her.

Switch?

I stay on hands and knees, and he stays behind me. She sits up, and moves closer to him. She teases me. It is almost unbearable, knowing he is right behind me, and feeling her fingers going in and out. Finally, he enters me. He thrusts hard, and pulls my hair. “Fuck” escapes my lips. She stands up while he fucks me. Is she uncomfortable? She sits down. He is uncomfortable. This position doesn’t feel right. He has to be fucked up. I suck his cock and -- nothing. It seems unusual, because I have gotten him off orally time and time again. (Is it the drugs or is he nervous?) She feels ignored, and she leaves the room.

Alone at last. He is obviously upset, and I feel sorry. I gently kiss his cheek, but he doesn’t move. I bite his ear and suck on his neck. A soft moan escapes him. I kiss his lips, and he kisses me back. Tongues intertwine, as he pushes me backwards. I am lying on my back, and he is over me. He kisses me again. (That flawless kiss.) He moves down to my breast, briefly touching it with his tongue. He moves down further until his head is in between my legs. Sweet, sweet tongue. The room, it’s definitely gone now. The whole house is gone. The only thing that exists at that moment is me, him, and the bed which we lay upon.

I moan louder. When it comes to orally pleasing, he is a God. He by far surpasses anyone I have ever been with. I play with my nipples, as his tongue licks me oh-so-perfectly. (Don’t let this end) I try so hard to wait. But, he makes me cum as my moans become faster, and probably louder.

(Ah...cloud nine.) Was it worth it? Would I do it all over again? Absofuckinglutely.

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