How About 3

OK 1,2 how about 3?
How about you and him, or him and me or fuck it, it’s a big bed we can fit all 3, and see if the crowd makes sex better or worse, where positions abound, and everyone goes first.

That is if you’re OK with me, the single guy that likes the look in your eye when you look at him or he looks at you with passion, playfulness and all the dirty nasty things you’re going to do.

To him, or maybe me, or if he’s down I can take the lead, but I don’t know the rules of engagement and play, of fantasies fulfilled and ecstasies arranged.

I know this is strange but hear me out.

I want you when you’re with him, and I’d explore him if you wanted to see, indirectly of course, but part of me just needs to please. It’s just not the same if you’re both not there, with the two of you together there’s electricity in the air, that I want, that I need, and so the idea was planted like a seed.

What if while we danced, he took your front and I took your back, breasts pressed on his chest and a soft ass against my lap.

We could move to the beat like a three not two, in the corner in the dark, not advertising to the room, with your lips on his neck, but your hands reaching back, grabbing my ass, pulling me closer with a squeeze and a smack, and he gives me a smile, permission with a wink, my hands grip your hips, the tension reaches the brink.

His hands in your hair, his tongue in your mouth, shivers run from your head, down your neck and further down south, the whine of your waist grows slow but feels deep, the passion and intensity of that kiss reaches me, and my hardness reaches back yearning for more pressure, more heat, more contact and his hands start to travel down your body, between your legs, looking at me mouthing the words “Slip a finger under her dress.”

I oblige and to no surprise, your eyes close as shameful moans erupt from the lips that we will soon set to plead , as we slide under your pants and smile in conspiracy, because now we’re on the same page playing your body like an instrument on our private stage. You’re our plaything for tonight, our sensual willing tool, but the primary relationship here is you and him, not me and you.

So he whispers in your ear, what he says I’ll never know, a question in his eyes, you answer quickly voice low, but heady with desire and when I look into your eyes, I see them dilated, glazing with want and need, for touch and taste, and the pleasure of two men, two cocks, and lusts sweet embrace.

So again I ask you how about 3, your energy as a two is worse than any tease, I’m jealous of the bond I know I couldn’t break, and I would be honoured to be a part of an experience we could make.