A Pyrrhic Victory

My breath slowly escaped me. That wasn't what I was expecting. I started to speak a few times, then fell silent, not entirely sure what to say. My thoughts were a confused jumble.

"Let me... think about it." I finally mumbled. I felt, rather than heard, his rumble of assent, as I rested my head against his chest.

My brain churned in a conflicting fugue, and I tossed and turned most of the night, Louis and Andy competing for attention in my mind.

I woke up before the sun rose, from what felt like a very unsatisfying sleep. I padded to the kitchen, yawning as I made coffee. I flipped back through my texts with Louis, eager to distract myself from my nonconversation with Andy, body suffusing with heat when I reached Louis's video. I started the video, then immediately put it down, lost in thought. I wasn't sure I was ready for a child. While I was sure I would adore the process of getting pregnant, the outcome seemed scarily permanent.

As the sun rose, I mulled over my choices. I still hadn't made any concrete decisions either way when Andy stumbled in, hair rumpled. I smiled tightly at him, feeling suddenly unsure of what to say. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, and was interrupted by a loud jangle. My heart rate quickened. Louis was calling me. I stared at my phone for long seconds, mind racing. Andy gave me a strange look, then took my phone, answering it for me.

"Hey bud." He was silent for a minute, while I chastised myself for my ridiculous behaviour. I needed to pull it together. I was about to spend a weekend with the pair of them. "Shit man, that sucks." Another pause. "I'm definitely still up for it, we can pick you up. See you soon." Andy passed my phone back to me, face inscrutable. "Molly isn't coming, her sister suddenly came into town. It's just going to be the three of us." I fought back the visceral reaction that caused in me, and said, very neutrally,

"Fine by me. I'll still have everyone I want to be there." I punctuated my comment with a wolfish grin, and Andy finally relaxed, smiling heatedly back at me.

"We're going to pick him up, by the way, so we need to take my van." I groaned. His van was boxy and ancient, but my car wouldn't fit three people and bags.

"Did you ever get the front seatbelt fixed?"

He squirmed guiltily. I pasted on a nonchalant smile, and we loaded up the van as my mind raced. All too soon, we were pulling up to Louis's house, and he ambled over, not looking particularly put out at the thought of being a third wheel. I imagined it was for a similar reason that I was dreading this trip.

He loaded up his bags, then poked me in the side to scooch me over so he could squeeze in. I bit back a squeal, and moved over as far as I could, though I could still feel the heat of him radiating against me.

The cabin was four hours away, and I felt every single second of it. Every time Louis spoke, or even shifted, my attention snapped to him. My thoughts were a cacophony of anxieties and desires, and I stared at my hands for most of the trip.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a large, warm hand landed on top of mine. I looked up, and Louis was looking at me with concern, even as his eyes crackled with lust.

"Andy asked if you needed any water. You okay?" I shook his hand off, perturbed and flushed.

"I'm fine. Just kind of tired, I had a long night last night." Andy met my eyes in the mirror and smirked.

I almost managed to forget my discomfort when we reached the cabin. It was deep in the woods, accessible only by a series of barely-there roads, and surrounded by swells of fir trees, the light piercing through the thick needles. I whirled around giddily, grateful to be free of the car, and caught Louis chuckling at me. I flushed and stopped, grabbing the bags and avoiding his eyes.

Inside was cold, but cozy, the light dim. It was fairly spacious, with a living room that dominated most of the space. A small kitchen stood off to the side, separating the two bedrooms. After unpacking, Andy and Louis tromped off to gather supplies for a fire, and I set to making the cabin cozy. Louis had a bag dedicated to alcohol, and I arranged it on the counter, noticing with a grimace the large bottle of gin he had. It looked brand new. I set out some snacks, and explored the bedrooms. The beds were large and plush, both rooms looking down the slope of the mountain, into the thick grove of trees.

Laughter echoed behind me, and I whirled, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of Louis and Andy alone together. However, when I appeared in the doorway, they both grinned up at me from in front of the fireplace, faces slightly red with exertion. I bit my lip at the sight of both of them on their knees. They were at the perfect height to take turns licking my cunt while I gripped the wall, my arousal running down their faces. I shook the image from my head, and turned to the kitchen.

"Drinking time?" I called hopefully.

"Drinking time!" They cheered back. When I returned with drinks in hand, the fire was slowly coming to life, and the room began to warm up as we sprawled on the sofa, content to drink in silence. Louis shot a significant look at my clear drink and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. I stifled my retort, and tossed back the rest of my drink, standing for a refill. As the drinks flowed, Andy and Louis got progressively more boisterous, chatting easily.

I sat uncomfortably in the middle, feeling more than a little tipsy, and remembering, in excruciating detail, the sound of Louis groaning as he came. Louis seemed to be affected by the alcohol too, his eyes darting towards me more frequently, drinking in my over-large sweatshirt and leggings, knees pulled up to my chest.

As we drank, the light steadily faded, and my stomach began to growl insistently. I pushed myself to my feet, intent on making dinner, and swayed woozily, the alcohol hitting me in a wave. Louis caught me before Andy could, and seemed reluctant to take his hands off me, even once I had steadied. I tried to shoot him an annoyed glance, but I didn't succeed, based on the way his grip tightened.

I stumbled towards the kitchen, and Andy blearily waved up at me. He didn't drink very often, and looked about ready to fall asleep where he sat. Louis followed me, solicitously keeping a hand at my back to keep me from falling. I could feel the heat of it even through my sweatshirt.

Louis left me standing in the doorway, and I watched with reluctant awe as he moved deftly through the kitchen. He pulled vegetables from the fridge, and a large Tupperware, full of marinating chicken. He beckoned me over, encouragingly, nudging me towards a knife and cutting board.

"Please don't cut your fingers off. These roads are next to impossible to see at night." His tone was teasing, but I nodded seriously. I was not the most adroit in the kitchen. I turned to the task, slicing the red peppers with meticulous focus.

I tried not to choke as I felt Louis press suddenly against my back. So much for knife safety. He was taller than I had thought, and solid against me. Casually, he grabbed the salt near my elbow, then slowly peeled himself off me. My eyes were unseeing as I stared down at the counter, mapping each point of contact. His hips bumped against mine, and the pool of heat in my stomach flared.

The alcohol coursing through my system roared in approval at the thought of me shoving Louis against the drawers, teasing his cock with feather light touches until he was begging for my pussy around him. Instead, I chopped broccoli with unnecessary force, doing my best to keep my face neutral, even as my eyes shot over to watch him. He looked far too comfortable around me, and I scowled down at my hands. I wanted him as flustered as I was. He watched me study him like a hungry lioness.

"Did you... want something?" He asked, his voice mock serious, like he was biting back a laugh.

"I can think of a few things I want," I purred, batting my eyelashes. "Care to guess what I'm thinking?" He leaned onto his elbows, propping his face in his hands, all his attention suddenly, intently on me.

"I think I would much rather hear you say it."

"Say what?" I quickly glanced over my shoulder to make sure Andy wasn't there. "That I want to drool all over your fat cock while you try desperately not to cum down my throat?" Louis shifted uncomfortably underneath my feral grin. I continued, encouraged. "That I want your tongue buried in my pussy so I can't hear your smart ass comments anymore? That's what I want. What do you want?"

My stomach was churning, and all the bravado I used up deflated out of me. Louis didn't seem to notice, straightening as he darted a hand down to surreptitiously adjust himself.

"You'll find out what I want soon enough."

His voice was a rasp that sent a shiver through me, and I felt my pussy seeping with arousal. I glared. He smiled back at me, even as his gaze smouldered. I hated how quickly my body responded to him. I hated how badly I wanted to trace the lines of his cock with my tongue, how badly I wanted to see him unhinged and desperate for me. He seemed irritatingly unflappable, and I decided I would have to step up my game.

I left him in charge of dinner, and headed to my bedroom, forcing myself not to turn around and look at him, even as I felt his eyes on me. I unzipped my suitcase, rifling through for the shortest, tightest dress I owned. It was entirely inappropriate for the weather and company, and I grinned approvingly as I held it up.

I took my time getting ready, pulling my hair into a tumble of curls that fell down one shoulder. I reapplied my makeup, darkening my eyes, and reddening my lips. I squared my shoulders, and schooled my face into something casual, then stepped out. Louis was busy, his back turned to me as something sizzled loudly. I crossed into the living room and checked on Andy.

"Wow." He mumbled groggily. "You look great, what's the occasion?" He didn't seem interested in my answer, eyes already sliding shut. I pressed a kiss to his forehead, leaving a stain there, and he seemed content to doze off again, sliding one hand down my leg in farewell.

I padded into the kitchen, and sidled up behind Louis. I ran my fingers down the length of his spine, and was rewarded with a shiver. He whipped around, then froze. His jaw slackened in a very gratifying way as he took in my appearance. My dress was deep red and skintight. It dipped dangerously low in the front, hugging my full breasts, and barely skimmed the middle of my thighs, so snug against my rounded hips that it looked almost painted on. I fought the urge to gloat, and stood there instead, tilting my head back to lock eyes with him.

"Jesus, you're gorgeous," he forced out, after long seconds. I reared back, blushing furiously. I turned to the alcohol, wrong-footed by his reaction. His hands came down on my hips, tugging me back against him, and I felt the faintest brush of his body against mine. He leaned in closer, and, instead of saying anything, licked a long line up the side of my neck. The wet heat of his tongue almost made my legs buckle, and I stared at the booze with renewed concentration, trying not to thrust against him.

He stepped away, right as my self control was about to crumble, and turned back to the stove. I bristled with annoyance. He had this natural calm that always had me feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I should get back to dinner. Would hate to burn it."

He didn't turn around from the stove, and I had to bite my lip to keep from scowling. I wanted to spin him around and break him into tiny little pieces until he was begging me for relief. If he felt me glowering at him, he did a remarkable job of ignoring it, save for the whiteness of his knuckles as he clenched the countertop. I studied the lines of him, imagining my fingernails digging indents into his broad shoulders, scraping red swaths across his toned back.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I was being irrational, not to mention irresponsible. Nothing would happen between the two of us. I opened my eyes, and was flustered all over again. He had turned to me, spatula dangling limply from his fingers while he drank in my form hungrily. I half expected him to cross the room and devour me, and I more than half wanted him to.

"Dinner should be ready in ten."

The darkness in his tone contrasted with his words, and I fought the urge to clap my hands to my cheeks to hide their sudden burning. Wordlessly, I spun around, curls springing around my head, and marched into the living room, coaxing a reluctant Andy awake, as the pit of my stomach lurched with anticipation.

I set the table, settling Andy in a chair, and fighting my eyes as they darted towards the kitchen at every opportunity. Louis entered, a tureen of rice and veggies in one hand, chicken piled high on a plate in the other, staring frankly at me all the while. I snuck a look at Andy, but his hand was propping him up, eyes half closed. Louis served us, taking the opportunity to look down the front of my dress. Almost unconsciously, I thrust my chest out slightly under his gaze. I dropped my eyes to my plate at his smile, and an awkward silence fell over the table as Louis finally sat.

I toyed with my food listlessly, body burning with desire and guilt, eyes flicking over to Andy every few seconds. At my prompting, he forked a few mouthfuls of food down before he pushed away from the table, looking slightly green. I hopped up with concern as he stumbled towards the bedroom, and he waved me off with the flippancy only the drunk can manage.

"I'm just going to go sleep some of this off. Enjoy your dinner, love, I'm sure I'll be out soon." He slurred, pressing a boozy kiss into my hair. I was stricken, and I darted a look back at Louis. He seemed annoyingly pleased with the situation, and I only had a moment to wonder if he planned this happening before Andy disappeared, the bedroom door clicking shut behind him.

In the silence that fell afterwards, I stood in the dim light, shifting on the balls of my feet and contemplating running into the woods.

"Don't be shy," Louis beckoned me over, "the food's going to get cold." I shot him a deeply suspicious look, and he held up his hands, looking the picture of innocence. "I just want to make sure you get enough to eat. Don't want you passing out on me later." His tone was glib, and I returned to my seat, warily.

The food was incredible, I reluctantly admitted, and I felt myself beginning to relax as we ate. Louis topped up my drink, as well as his own, and I couldn't help my goofy smile as I watched him move around the kitchen, looking endearingly domesticated. He grabbed our empty plates and spun away, making a show of clattering the dishes into the sink. We both paused and looked towards my bedroom, but Andy didn't reappear. Louis, for his part, smiled smugly, and I felt my heart skip a beat in apprehension.

"Want to sit by the fire for a bit? I'm sure you're cold in a dress that small." His tone was teasing, guiding me into the living room, and I shoved his shoulder as we settled on the floor by the fire. We were sitting near enough to one another that our legs were pressed together. I stared at the point of contact, then tossed back the remainder of my drink, eyes going out of focus briefly as I straightened my head.

I wobbled into Louis with a giggle, and he was quick to throw an arm around me, tucking me against his side. I wanted to protest, but, in truth, my dress was very small, and the fire wasn't burning as hotly as it had earlier. So I burrowed into his side, alcohol bolstering my impulsivity. He traced his fingers idly over my dress, skimming ever closer to my cleavage.

I shot him a warning look, and his hand slowed, but it didn't stop. I toyed with the idea of getting up, but standing seemed a great deal more challenging than stayed curled up next to an exceedingly attractive man. He was wearing cologne, or aftershave, and I couldn't help the deep breaths I took, savoring the musky, masculine smell.

"Are you... smelling me?"

He sounded hugely amused, and I turned my face away hastily. I elected not to answer, feeling suddenly too warm, and his fingers were gentle on my jaw as he pulled my face towards his. I couldn't decipher the look he was giving me, but it made my heart pump faster, heat pooling in my stomach.

"Jess..." he started, fingers curling against my skin. I felt my lips parting under his gaze, and my body was vibrating with a nervous excitement. He cleared his throat, and started again, his voice quiet, forcing me to lean in.

"You know... I've been keeping track of the days, and it's been exactly a week." I was slow to understand, distracted by the angles of his face, the proud line of his nose. Firelight suited him.

"A week since what?" I murmured, and the heated look he shot me brought recollections flooding back. My video, his video, the agreement, the texts. My breath caught, and his arm suddenly felt too tight around me.

"I never told you how I was going to celebrate, did I?" His voice was a throaty rumble, and he seemed not to notice my half-hearted struggles as I tried to wrench free from his grip.

"No, you didn't." I huffed, giving up, my brain slowly beginning to clang a warning.

"Well..." he drew out the word, teasingly. "I'm going to fuck my cum into you." I felt my heart speed up, adrenaline pumping through me and cutting through the fogginess of the booze.

I broke out of his grip and scuttled backwards, back pressing against the legs of the sofa. He stood, seeming in complete control of himself, and my mind raced as I tried to remember how many drinks he'd had. He must have been nursing them, so he could be sober for this. Betrayal bubbled up in me, a queasy feeling.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I hated the way my voice sounded, wavering and unsure. He stalked closer, looming over me.

"All you've done for years is tease me. And this week was literal torture. Did you think I would let you get away with it?" His voice was sinfully smooth, a sharp contrast to the malicious gleam in his eyes.

"That was just..." I trailed off, heart thumping as I staggered to my feet.

"Just what, Jess?" His eyes flicked back and forth across my face, hungrily.

"Texting is... different. It was just a little fun, but Andy is right there." My voice turned into a squeak, fear constricting my throat as I gestured to the bedroom.

"That's right," he purred, "he is. So you're going to need to be very quiet, unless you want to wake him up. How would we explain all those filthy texts, hmmm?"

"You're a bastard," I whispered, feeling inexplicably hurt. "What do you want?" I gritted out, sneering with a bravado I didn't feel.

He didn't answer, instead letting his eyes meander down my figure, pausing at the swell of my rounded hips, and the straining of my breasts against my dress as I gulped in air.

"I want you to admit that you want me just as badly as I want you. And then I want you on the ground, legs in the air, so I can fuck my cum into your sweet little pussy."

My breath was coming in short little gasps as I hung on his words, transfixed. My stomach was roiling with tension and nerves and reluctant arousal.

"I'm not going to do that." I declared, chin sticking out stubbornly.

"Oh, I think you are. In fact..." he boldly reached out, cupping my pussy through my dress. "I think you're probably dripping wet already at the thought of my cock slamming into you."

I lurched away, but he followed, arms darting towards me and encircling me. I struggled vainly, and he breathed a laugh into my hair. I felt a hardness pressing against the swell of my ass, and I yelped as he pulled me back and forth against it, moving my body around like a rag doll.

I couldn't help the way my back arched against him, a small movement, but one he immediately noticed. With a groan, he bucked into me with enough force that I would have stumbled, had he not had a vice grip on me.