Three

She was...hell, he didn't know how to describe her. He'd known her all of six months and in that time she'd managed to capture him in a way no woman ever had--and plenty had tried. He'd never managed to connect to a woman who was his other half but stumbling through life they'd fallen into one another's lives by sheer chance.

She was his kindred spirit.

They met when he'd been at the end of a marriage that started--as all of them do--with every good intention but after years of those little bastards busily paving their way to hell, the marriage had become dry and so had his heart. When he met her, it was like having a fresh spring of water to drink from.

The one thing she'd done consistently was surprise him and every time she did it he felt something that reminded him what it was like to be a child, when he still had some enthusiasm and hope and believed in Santa Claus. She was one of the few people in life who had really seen him for what he was: a scared little boy in a man's body; an insecure kid who only wanted to be loved without conditions. She was a soft place to land in a world that never gave him anything but pain.

This afternoon he'd dragged his ass home from work, exhausted and ready for the weekend. He showered, slipped on jeans and went to the fridge to see if there was anything worth eating. There wasn't.

The doorbell buzzed twice in quick succession.

Padding to the door barefoot he opened the front door to find no one there. Irritated he started to turn away when the box on his doorstep caught his eye. It was about the size of a shoebox and wrapped in plain brown paper, one word written on the top in a pretty black script.

"Honey"

Grinning, he grabbed the box, taking it to the kitchen to put it on the counter. It was one of the two nicknames she used for him--honey and tough guy--and he was definitely in the mood for a surprise. Their usual Friday afternoon routine was her driving down to spend the weekend at his place, but she'd been excited about spending this particular weekend with her girlfriends at the lake so getting something from her was unexpected.

The box was light. Okay, no homemade cookies--which she likely wouldn't have done anyway, since he was so focused on taking care of his body--and probably not a book; the last one she'd bought him was still sitting, unread, on his nightstand. What the hell would she send him? And who dropped it off--not the post office or FedEx, as neither would have been able to locate "Honey" on any city map. Tearing off the outer wrapping, he found he was right about the shape--it was a shoe box, filled with packing peanuts. Sticking his hand into the Styrofoam, he found only a small envelope and pulled it out.

It was one of those little card pocket things hotels used to hold the electronic key card to your room. And inside there was a card. A key? Turning the card holder over, more handwriting in that ladylike black script: the name of a hotel near the center of town--not more than 10 minutes' drive from him--and a room number.

It took him five minutes to get dressed.

It took him almost half an hour to get to the hotel; it seemed everyone and their mother were desperate to get out of town for the weekend and the streets were jammed. But he arrived, curious about this new surprise, and made his way to the top floor and to the door with a number that matched the card, not so much as pausing before slipping it into the electronic lock and getting a green light. He went in.

It was a suite. He walked into a sitting area with a small sectional sofa, recliner and lamps that were on but had soft, dark cloths--scarves or something--over their shades, casting the space in low light. Beyond that was a king-sized bed covered in a navy blue spread--and a mountain of pillows.

She loved pillows.

"Hi honey."

She came out of another room on the far side of the bed--the bathroom, probably--dressed in purple. It was her color. She smiled at him, a smile he knew incredibly well. A smile that darkened her eyes and spoke of hunger; a smile that made his cock hard.

"Surprise," she murmured, slipping a long silky robe off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Beneath she wore a short purple gown that clung to her lovingly, showing off her legs, arms and breasts.

He loved how much she loved showing off her body--something she had earned after months of dieting and gym workouts--so he stayed where he was, letting her come to him so he could enjoy the view.

"Happy birthday, tough guy," she grinned as she came to him, sliding her hands onto his chest and around his neck.

He slid his hands to her waist; to her backside. Every time he had her ass in his hands he was ready to fuck her and she knew it, judging by the grin on her face. "My birthday isn't for another six weeks."

"I know," she purred, kissing the exposed skin above the neckline of his T-shirt. "That's why you should be surprised."

He couldn't help it. He laughed, grabbing her and pulling her up and against him, her feet off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing his neck; biting at his earlobe and making him shudder. Dropping down into the corner of the sectional, he stretched his legs out across the cushions, groaning when she immediately sank down into him, pressing her cunt into his crotch. She was naked under her skimpy gown and he took advantage as she resettled her arms around his neck, reaching for his mouth with hers and kissing him, first softly, playfully, then harder; deeper.

She dragged his shirt up and over his head, forcing him to release her for a moment and once she had his chest bare she started kissing him; his mouth, his throat; his shoulders. He pulled her tighter against him, hands going back to her ass cheeks, pulling them slightly apart. Sliding one hand down he slipped two fingers into her pussy, loving the way she squirmed, moaning into his mouth.

Resting his head back into the sofa cushions, he let her take control and play with him, letting the world fade away under her hands and mouth. Her breasts, barely covered by lace, rubbed against his chest, her nipples hardening. Her ass was plump and soft in his hands, her groan when he slid his wet fingers across her asshole making his cock throb. He slipped his fingers down again, taking the slick wet arousal from her cunt and using it to massage and tease her asshole with a fingertip.

"Honey," she purred into his ear, "don't you wanna know what you're getting for your birthday?"

Running her teeth down the side of his throat, she followed the caress with her tongue and he shuddered. "I thought you were," he answered, his voice harsh. He worked a finger into her ass, forcing a gasp from her.

"Oh....honey...." she sighed. "No, not me. You can....have me....anytime you want." Her fingers clenching at his biceps, she moved her hips, pushing against his finger and groaning a long, deep "mmmmmmm" against his shoulder. "I got you...something...special."

Her hair, dark auburn against the pale softness of her skin, fell loose and soft over her shoulders. Grabbing a fistful of it, he pulled her head back sharply so that he could look into her face. Her fingers were convulsing and releasing on his arms. "Princess, you're what I want. Doesn't the birthday boy get to choose?"

She smiled, but this smile was full of mischief and mystery. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do. But right now I want to fuck you and you're playing coy." Pushing his finger deeper, he pulled gently at her hair, arching her head back as her lips parted and she sighed.

"You can have me...as often...and any way...you want," she managed. "Any time. But for tonight, let me give you my gift. Please?"

On a good day saying no to her was easy; it was one of the things that made their relationship work; she thrived having someone strong to take control and she gave him softness and unconditional love. But when she said please like that, her eyes soft, lips erotically wet and her voice like velvet, he was all hers.

"Okay, Princess. But kiss me first." Opening his hand to release her hair and slipping his hand from her ass, she made a sound of purely feminine disappointment that made him smile. Taking her by the waist he took her mouth when she bent to offer it and taking the deep, hot kiss with a groan.

When she finally pulled away she slipped from his lap, kneeling to take off his shoes and socks. Then she straightened, taking his hands in hers and pulling until he stood. Smiling that wicked smile, she started caressing his shoulders; his arms; his chest, slowly sliding to her knees in front of him. Unbuckling his belt, she stripped him of his jeans and briefs, making him chuckle by taking the time to neatly fold them, along with his T-shirt, before laying them aside. Then she slid her hands up his calves, to the outside of his thighs, teasing his skin with her hair; her lips; nuzzling the spot at the top of his thigh with her nose, close to but not touching his cock, the no-contact contact making him throb a little harder nonetheless.

Starting at his navel she kissed her way up his chest as her hands went to his arms, sliding up to his shoulders and ending when she laced her fingers behind his neck. Pushing up on tiptoe, she offered her mouth and he took it, giving her his tongue and taking hers, molding his palms to the curves of her hips. When she stepped away from him she put a fingertip to his chest, pushing until he resumed his seat in the corner, left leg stretched out along that part of the sofa, right foot on the floor.

Grinning like a fool and humming "Happy Birthday to you," she went to open the nightstand beside the bed, coming back to him with a slip of black fabric. When she held it out to him, he frowned.

"Blindfold?"

"Just for a minute," she said assuringly. "I have some...things I need to get out and get ready. Then I'll remove it, I promise."

Being a man who practiced self-control and controlling as much of his environment as he was able, a blindfold was a bit out of his comfort zone. But he trusted her, so he put it on.

"No peeking." Leaning over him to kiss his cheek chastely she whispered in his ear, "Honey, I love you more than I ever thought was possible. Happy Birthday." And then she was gone.

He listened intently as she moved around the room, opening a door, closing a door. The sound of some sort of fabric rustling.

Hushed whispers? Or his imagination, set loose by the blindfold?

She came back to him, slipping into the sofa at his right side, one arm going to rest across his shoulders; the other hand on his thigh, caressing.

"Are you ready, tough guy?"

She whispered the question in his ear before scraping her teeth across his earlobe, sending a shiver skittering down his spine. Her hand moved from his thigh to cup and fondle his balls, then circle and stroke up the length of his cock, her touch making him drop his head back, his mouth opening on a deep sound of pleasure.

She went on, lightly teasing him with her hand; nibbling and licking at his neck; his jaw, getting him fully hard as she whispered naughty suggestions in his ear. Then she drew her hand up his belly, across his chest before lifting it to lay her fingers across his lips.

"Don't say anything," she whispered. Leaving her fingers on his mouth to silence him, she drew the blindfold off with her other hand.

He took in a sharp breath, his eyes widening in an instant of shock; she pressed his mouth a little more firmly, murmuring "Shh....stay right here." as she turned her head away from him and got up from the sofa, walking toward the man who stood at the foot of the bed.

He sat, too stunned to speak, and watched her, his heart slamming in his chest. He could have imagined a million scenarios, but never this...never the one fantasy he'd shared with her that she'd enjoyed as a fantasy but told him in no uncertain terms they would never live out in reality. She walked to the other man with a sexy, suggestive sway to her ass and her hips that he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before; she was a creature of fantasy now; someone he was certain he knew...but apparently hadn't known at all.

Happy birthday to him.

The other man stood quiet, patient, as if he knew exactly what to expect from her; something they obviously didn't share. He stood next to the bed, completely nude with the exception of his own blindfold, just slightly taller than her. That meant he'd be shorter than himself, with a body that was clearly a work of consistently hard work. Well developed and hard in all the right places: shoulders, pecs, biceps, abs, quads--he assessed the body as he would anyone coming to him for gym work, finding the stranger beautiful in an entirely masculine way.

She was walking around the other man, putting a hand to his shoulder and dragging it across him as she moved behind him, finishing the caress on the opposite shoulder. Standing on his right side she pressed in close to him, left hand on his shoulder, right hand caressing his chest, his belly, tracing a line down the side of his thigh as if showing him off to a potential buyer, purring at the feel of his completely smooth--obviously waxed--body.

"This is D," she said quietly. "That's what we call him. D." Sliding a hand between D's thighs she took his already hardening cock into her palm, stroking him for just a moment, making him moan softly. "D, this is...well, you can just think of him as N. Not that you'll be having any conversation." Looking at N she said "tonight he's my toy, Honey."

N couldn't help the flash of molten lust that flashed through his body and had him reaching for his own cock, stroking it as he watched her begin a little show. She took D's hand, turning him fully around, slapping his perfectly shaped ass on the way and winking back at N, licking her lips before biting the lower one, an expression N knew well. It was excitement mixed with a little anxiety; a sexy, little-girl gesture on a woman's mouth.

Having turned him 180 degrees she continued holding D's hand, tugging him forward, toward the sofa. She stopped when she had D facing him, just a few feet away, and she stood in front of D facing him as well. Leaning her body fully back against D's chest, D's arms came immediately around her and his mouth went to her throat, kissing, licking and biting softly. She closed her eyes in pleasure, purring seductively as D's hands moved over her, cupping her breasts, caressing her belly; her hips; pressing into the vee between her thighs with only the slippery satin of her gown between them.

This passionate play went on right in front of N; his woman, aroused, in the arms of another man. Her body touched and petted and kissed by someone else...all while his own dick grew hotter and harder, almost painfully full.

"Honey," she moaned, "don't. Just to the edge....then stop. Don't cum. Not yet."

N had to force his hand from his cock. He was almost over the edge when she stopped him and the near-orgasm rippled through his groin; he forced his hands to grab at handfuls of the sofa to keep himself from finishing it. Instead he watched, utterly fascinated, as his beautiful Princess gave her body to another man to tease and caress.

Turning her head toward D she said harshly, "Tear it!" and D immediately put his hands to the front of her short gown just between her breasts, ripping it down the center to leave the silk hanging in shreds on her thighs, her body fully exposed.

D put his hands to her tits, cupping and squeezing them; she threw her head back onto his shoulder, arching her back to push herself harder into his hands. He played with her, finally taking her nipples between his fingers to roll and pinch them while she made those sounds he knew so well; her deep moans and soft sighs and sounds of eager need. Keeping his left hand on her left breast, D slid the other between her thighs and she parted for him, inviting D's fingers into her cunt and making a loud, sharp sound of encouragement and passion as he obliged her.

D wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her tight to him, encouraging her to lean herself fully back so that he was supporting her, taking her with his fingers deeply, slowly at first then quickening his pace, making her tremble and whine and plead for more.

She was going to cum, N thought. This woman he loved, whose body he'd pleasured; whose orgasms he had called up from deep inside her, was going to cum with a stranger's hand in her cunt and he began stroking his cock again watching her take her pleasure as she used D as nothing more than her toy to bring her to and through and across her peak.

When she could breathe she opened her eyes, smiling at him from D's arms. Then she left her toy standing alone, his cock erect, his fingers wet with her cum as he lifted them to his lips, licking them off with obvious pleasure of his own. She came to the sofa, straddling N again, saying "Stroke your cock, D" as she settled her very wet cunt against N's cock, rocking up and back against him. She slipped her torn gown off, throwing it to the floor.

N kissed her. Spearing the fingers of both hands into her hair, he kissed her as if she were a complete stranger; the woman in his fantasies who would do anything for him; everything for him. She pulled up onto her knees, found his cock and slid the swollen head into her pussy, sliding it back and forth to wet it with her cum. Then suddenly she pushed down, taking him; burying him to the root in her cunt and making him clench his hands and growl fiercely.

She put her forehead to his, fucking him....moving up to the head very, very slowly before jamming him back inside quickly. It took all of five or six strokes before she stopped, feeling his body tense beneath her; bringing him to the edge again then raising herself so that his cock slipped from her and he grabbed at her hips, trying to get her to ride him again.

"No, Honey," she whispered to him, smiling that smile again and standing before him. "I have so much more for you....not yet." Then she turned around but instead of walking away she sat on his lap, facing away from him, leaning her torso back against his and pulling his hands to her breasts. She spread her legs so that they were over and outside his, his cock hard and straining just below her pussy.

"Step forward, D," she commanded softly, and D took a step forward; a second; a third. "Kneel," she ordered, and he did, reaching his hands out to find balance, the left landing, palm-open, on N's thigh, the right on hers. "I want your mouth," she murmured, sliding a hand to D's head and pulling him forward.

D's mouth found her, no doubt drawn by the heat and smell of her, ripe with arousal. He began eating at her, his tongue voracious as she leaned back fully into her lover, raising her arms to wrap around N's neck as he pleasured her tits with his hands and fingertips; biting the spot at the side of her neck that made her cry out softly and shiver.

N was lost in a haze of lust; he felt D's mouth working her cunt but D's tongue was licking at his cock as well, brushing the head with his lips as if it were accidental; over and over again, taunting his cock until he was nearly mad with need, his cock throbbing hard, sounds of harsh desperation from his throat.

She turned her head on his shoulder; kissed his cheek. "What's wrong, Honey?" she murmured, her voice dripping mischief. "Do you want some, too?"

N turned his head to hers, grabbing her jaw in one hard hand, squeezing as he forced her mouth to take his, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he could feel D's tongue fucking her cunt. When he released her, he was breathing in ragged moans.

"Princess--" he growled.

"No, Honey," she answered. "Princess is gone. This is Vixen...remember me?"

He was looking into her face; the face of the woman he knew; the fantasy he had just met.