Three's A Crowd

Amore For the real R - because I know you're still reading.

I'm trying to think of where the story starts. Probably with Ryan. Things always seem to start with Ryan, at least for me.

I've known him since I was sixteen, and loved him almost as long, though for the first few years, we were just friends. I was young and naive - he was a few years older, and, well, not. He loved me too, eventually, in his own way. We were in college when we finally consummated the relationship. All our old friends warned me against him. Ryan was a bad boy, and not just because he drank a lot and didn't necessarily believe in social conventions like commitment and fidelity. He was dangerous because he said what he wanted and did what he wanted, with no regard for the consequences. He unfailingly lived only for himself, and this simultaneously intrigued and terrified me, because I was the exact opposite. I cared. I cared too much about everyone, and everything.

Anyway, this is all besides the point. Basically what I'm trying to establish is that he was my first love, and the first guy I ever fucked, and while I know those can be separate things, I have no doubt that in our case, these two things - love and fucking - were and are inextricably intertwined.

So it was a tumultuous relationship. We broke up constantly, but somehow always fell back together - usually into bed. But regardless of whether we were off or on again, we had history - and a tight-knit group of friends who often demanded our presence. Anytime a celebration came up, regardless of our relationship status, we had to suck it up and become friends for at least one night. Which is how, after three months of not speaking to one another, we found ourselves carpooling to our hometown two hours away for Mike's 22nd birthday party.

It was uncomfortable at first, but we soon found ourselves falling into our old friendly rhythm. We argued playfully over music, caught up on the movies we had both seen recently, debated politics. I remembered what I found so appealing about him - he was passionate, outspoken, smart as hell. And I couldn't ignore the fact that his hand was creeping slowly up my leg. The electricity crackled between us in the small car. His eyes stayed on the road ahead, even as he toyed with the thin fabric at the hem of my skirt and the material rode high along my thigh. I shifted away and rolled the window down to get some air.

Any residual goodwill between us was tested though, when we arrived at the party. It was one of Mike's typical Bacchanalian bashes. There was a keg in every corner, and bottles of booze lined along the kitchen counter. Blonde girls in short skirts drank frothy pink drinks, and lifted their halter tops to get some of the shiny beads the guys at the party were carrying around. It was a cheap ploy, but it was a good icebreaker. As the night went on and the liquor flowed, however, girls wouldn't need the excuse of beads to show their tits.

We found our way over to Mike first thing. He was holding court in his recliner, a beer in each hand, and his scantily clad girlfriend du jour on his lap. He stood up to give us each a warm, drunken embrace. His girlfriend fell to the floor laughing.

"Hey guys! You made it!"

"Happy birthday, man," Ryan said, giving him one of those manly hugs with the back-slapping.

"Happy birthday, kiddo," I echoed, kissing him on the cheek.

"I've been drinking since nine this morning," Mike announced proudly, as he stumbled to the floor and snuggled up to his girlfriend.

"That's fairly evident," I laughed. "I guess we have some catching up to do."

Ryan was already on his way to the keg. He took the circuitous route, giving him ample opportunity to ogle the tipsy coeds. I rolled my eyes and headed straight for the tequila in the kitchen. If I was going to get drunk, and get drunk fast, it was going to be shots. I rummaged in the fridge to find a lime, and jumped when someone smacked my ass, hard. I whirled around to see Mike's roommate Damien, grinning at me lasciviously. He was another guy I'd known for years. He was hot - skinny and pale, yeah, but nicely tattooed, with the well-muscled arms of a drummer, and mussed-up hair. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, tilting my head back to see him smile down at me. His hips pressed close against me. I'd always had the hots for him, but he'd never shown much inclination my way until a few months earlier, when we had drunkenly made out in the dark hallway of a crowded club. He lived two hours away, though, and had dated several of my friends, so he was never an option I really took seriously.

"I'm glad you made it," he murmured into my neck.

"Do I ever miss a party?" I gave him one last squeeze before relinquishing his neck and reaching for the bottle of Patron.

"Oh, it's going to be one of those nights, is it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I poured myself a double and looked around for a salt shaker. Damien found a knife and began slicing a lime for me. I got a little distracted watching the juice run down his wrist. He reached up and sucked the juice off his skin, before proffering me a lime wedge.

"You only drink tequila when you want to get wild. The more shots you do, the faster your top comes off. Just an observation. No complaints, really." He smiled winningly at me. I smirked back as I found the salt shaker.

"C'mere." I pulled him closer to me by his shirt collar, and stood up on my toes and slowly licked his neck. I sprinkled some salt along the damp line, and he smiled wider, then placed the slice of lime between his teeth. I went back to his neck, licked up the salt and downed the shot before pulling the lime from his teeth with my own mouth, letting my lips brush gently against his. I tossed the lime in the trash, but we stayed there for a moment, me with my back pressed against the counter, his body pinning me against it. The spell was broken when Ryan elbowed his way between us.

"I got you a beer," he said brusquely, standing just a little too close to me.

"Great, thanks." I took a sip. We all stood there for a few seconds. It was an awkward tableau, that I soon broke.

"Well, I'm going to go mingle." I ducked out of the kitchen and back over to Mike and his girl who had made their way over to the couch. I glanced over my shoulder the guys seemed to relax as soon as I left. They had been friends for years, and had passed girlfriends between them like bad checks before. Take the chick out of the room and the pissing contest was instantly forgotten. I collapsed next to Mike and Theresa and chugged my beer.

"So, you and Ryan actually showed up together?" Mike raised his eyebrow at me. I groaned at his ever-present nosiness.

"Yeah, well, my car's in the shop. Believe me, I debated taking the Greyhound down instead."

"Well, if it's not one dog, it's bound to be another." Theresa giggled.

"You have no idea."

"What's the drama this time?" Mike asked.

"Eh, I'm not getting into it. Same old shit, you know? It's really over this time. I don't wanna bore you with the details. I am moving on."

"Moving onto my roommate? I saw you licking him in the kitchen."

"When did you turn into my Grandma, Mike? Mind your own business." I elbowed him playfully, and jumped up to snag a Jell-O shot from one of Mike's frat brothers.

I spent the next few hours mingling with old friends and acquaintances, and drinking. Around 2am, the party started to thin out somewhat. I hugged most of the gang goodbye, then went to change into my pajamas. When I got back out to the mostly deserted (except for the odd passed-out frat boy) living room, I curled up next to Damien on the couch. He wrapped his arms around me, drawing me close. At some point during the evening he had taken off his shirt, and I used my fingers to gently trace his tattoos with my finger. I started out with the claw marks tattooed over his heart, and moved down to the Celtic design just over his hip bone. He leaned his head back and sighed.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" he whispered.

"Mike's room. He's going home with Theresa."

"What about Ryan?"

"I dunno. I guess he's sleeping on the couch. Or the car, maybe." I snorted.

"So, I take that to mean you're not an item anymore?"

"Nope."

"'Cause I thought he was gonna beat my ass in the kitchen, earlier."

"Misplaced testosterone. He has no claim on me. He fucked around on me. I can forgive a lot of things, but not that."

"I've always thought you deserved better. The kid's one of my best friends, but he can be kind of a dick."

"Yeah, well, let's not talk about him anymore." I moved up and back so I could look at Damien's face. I traced his jawline with my finger, then gently toyed with his lip ring.

"What do you want to talk about then?" he whispered, barely moving his lips.

"I don't want to talk." I whispered back. He leaned in then, brushing his lips gently against mine, pulling back to gauge my reaction. I pulled him back towards me and deepened the kiss, flicking his lip ring with my tongue before sliding my tongue into his mouth. He kissed me more aggressively, lowering me down so that I was flat on the couch and he was on top of me. I wound my legs around his as his fingers twined into my hair. I moaned slightly as he broke the kiss and began to nibble on my neck. Suddenly, there was the sound of a throat clearing, and we jumped apart as if someone had thrown cold water on us.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. D, your car is blocking us in."

"Sorry, dude. Let me go find my keys." He shot me an apologetic look, and gave me a quick peck on the mouth before leaping up and dashing up the stairs. I squirmed under Mike's knowing gaze.

"You two looked awfully cozy."

"Oh bite me. Tell Damien I went to bed, okay?" I got up and flounced to Mike's room, closing the door behind me. I groped for the light switch in the dark, but quickly gave up and stumbled towards the bed in the dark. My right shin found it first, and I cursed out loud, rubbing it, as I fell into bed. I crawled under the covers, and quickly got another surprise as I ran into a warm body. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and after I squinted, I could make out Ryan's face. I was so frustrated from hitting my shin and being interrupted on the couch, that I did the only mature thing that came to mind - namely I kicked the hell out of him. He woke up quickly and flailed back at me for a moment.

"The fuck?"

"I'm sleeping in here. Go sleep on the couch." I said petulantly.

"No. I was here first," he griped back at me.

"Well, I don't want to sleep on the couch, and I don't want to sleep next to you."

"Suck it up, princess. I ain't moving," he snarled, before quickly subsiding back into a snoring slumber. I sighed and turned to my side, putting my back towards him. I loathed him, but Mike's couch was really uncomfortable. Besides, sleeping next to one skeezy passed-out ex was preferable to sharing a room with four skeezy passed-out frat boys. I pulled a pillow over my ear to muffle Ryan's snores, which is why I didn't hear the door open. I sensed someone standing above me, and my eyes flew open. It was just Damien. He perched on the edge of the bed and I struggled to sit up.

"What happened to Ryan staying on the couch?"

"If you can lift him, be my guest. Otherwise I'm stuck with him."

"Shit. I just went to my room, and my sister and her boyfriend crashed there. I was going to see if I could stay down here with you."

"Hey, be my guest. You can be my bodyguard."

"I dunno. Ryan probably wouldn't be psyched."

"Dude, you know him. He's probably had enough booze and pills to tranq a horse, tonight. He's down for the count. And this bed is huge."

"Well ... okay."

I pulled back the covers and scooted over. Damien climbed into bed next to me and lay on his back. He had lost his pants by this point too, and was down to his boxers. I snuggled up against him, and he put his arm around my neck to pull me close. I could hear his heart beating beneath my head. Every time he exhaled, I felt his warm breath stirring my hair.

"So ... bummer we got interrupted in the living room, huh?" He ventured. I listened to Ryan's even snores for a moment.

"Well, there's no reason that it has to be a permanent interruption ..." I tilted my head up to look at him, and then his lips were on mine again. I climbed on top of him and straddled him, breaking our kiss long enough to slip off my t-shirt. I could feel him growing hard. I leaned back down, and he pulled me close, crushing my breasts against his chest as he fumbled with my bra. When he had untangled me from its confines, he tossed it aside, then suddenly rolled me over. I giggled at the unexpected maneuver, but caught my breath when he started tracing my body with his tongue. He started in the hollow of my throat, moved left along my collarbone, and then down my left side, stopping periodically to gently nip at my flesh. When he reached my hip, he traversed back along to the middle, pausing to make me think he might dip lower. Instead, he moved toward my navel and up along my sternum. I was trembling when his lips reached mine again, and I clutched at him hard, at his skin and his hair, desperate to keep him against me.

All our motion had put us right by Ryan, and though I was trying my best to keep quiet, I let a moan escape as Damien found a particularly sensitive spot on my neck. We both froze as Ryan's breathing caught, then relaxed as it deepened again. He caught my eye, and we both began to laugh.

"Do you want to stop? Maybe we should stop," he breathed.

"If we were smart, we would stop," I agreed. We regarded one another for a moment, and kissed again, less frantically this time. He held my face roughly, yet tenderly as his mouth melted to mine. He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Okay, I'm just going to kiss you one more time," he said, and kissed me hastily.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," I protested, and he kissed me again, his hand finding its way to my breast. The resulting moan woke Ryan for real that time. But we were so in the moment, we didn't realize it until he spoke.

"Hey, D, why don't you get the fuck off my girlfriend?"

Four things happened at once then - Damien rolled off me, I sat up and pulled the sheet over my breasts, Ryan turned on me furiously - and before he could speak, I slapped him.

"Jesus, what's your problem?" He whined.

"You! I'm not your girlfriend anymore. Remember? You fucked around on me. So kiss my ass."

"Well, yeah, I fucked around on you, but not like, in the same room. That's just fucking sick."

"Hey, I told you to sleep on the couch. It's still out there. You don't want to be in the same room with us, well, off with you, then."

"What, and just leave you two here to do - whatever it is you were doing? I don't think so," he scoffed.

"You don't get a say in this. Deal with it." I turned to face Damien, who was sitting silently, trying to blend into the wall.

"C'mon. If he won't leave, we will." I was still holding the sheet over my breasts, and it slowed my escape. I was still tangled in the linens when Ryan grabbed my arm and turned me back towards him. Before I could even get my bearings, he was kissing me.

Now here's the thing about kissing. Damien was a good kisser. Clumsy, but intense, and sweet at the same time. I had been perfectly content kissing him. But every time Ryan kissed me - it felt like coming home. It made me content and happy and stupid. Which is why, I must confess, I fell into the moment. He put one hand in my hair and the other one against my neck and kissed me the way he always did, and we fell to the pillow together, and in that moment, I forgot about Damien.

Until he started kissing the back of my neck.

I came back to my senses again, and broke Ryan's kiss. I twisted around to look at Damien, who shrugged and smiled. I rolled over to kiss him, and this time it was Ryan who pressed up behind me, kissing my neck.

I lost track of how long we stayed like that, me sandwiched between them, turning my head to take turns kissing them. Damien was long and lean and tall beside me. Ryan was sturdier, more compact. I kept kissing Ryan as Damien broke away and moved down my body. Ryan followed suit, parting with a playful bite to my lower lip. Damien had affixed himself to my right nipple, Ryan to my left. Damien was gentle, tender. Ryan went a little harder, knowing I liked it rough. I whimpered and tugged at his hair. Damien must have noticed my response, as he quickly followed suit. Soon I had a hand entwined in the hair of each, pulling tighter and tighter as they bit and flicked my nipples. I was close to coming, and I couldn't keep silent. I tried to muffle my moans, but they grew louder until Ryan reached up and placed his hand over my mouth. That pushed me over the edge, and I twitched and moved around as I came, clamping my legs together as currents of pleasure coursed through me.

When the pleasure had subsided, I forced my body to relax, and opened my eyes. They were both looking to me and stealing furtive glances at one another. I just smiled, and it all seemed to be resolved then, without words. I sat up and kissed Damien, then Rob. I was still wearing the shorts I slept in, and I wiggled out of them, then reached for Damien again, pulling him on top of me. We fell back to the bed. I moved my hands down along his sides to slip off his boxers. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes as he slid inside me.

I was already so wet, there was no resistance, and he filled me quickly, easily, grunting as he bottomed out. I groaned with the relief of finally being filled after a night of frustration and near misses. He stayed inside me for a moment, then rocked his hips in a slow, steady motion, thrusting deeply in and out of me. He kept his left hand in my hair, and his right hand moved to my breast. He gently rubbed his thumb over my nipple in a circle.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he murmured in my ear. "You feel so good."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I could still feel Damien's breath against my ear, and then I felt lips on me. Ryan had zeroed in on that spot on my neck - every girl has that spot. You find it, and she's yours for life. The combination of sensations - Damien on top of me, inside me, touching me, Ryan's face with its sandpaper scruff moving from my neck to my earlobe - sent me into another shuddering orgasm. Damien kept moving inside me and came a few moments later. He collapsed on my chest and buried his face in my neck. I scratched his back gently with the nails on my left hand. My right hand was by my side, and I felt Ryan's fingers interlacing with mine. I turned my head to look at him.

Ryan had always been good with the smoldering looks. A calculating, lust-filled gaze from him could have me on my knees in a heartbeat, no matter the place or situation. But I had never seen him look at me like this. There was a blend of passion, envy, hurt and jealously. I knew instinctively at that moment, that he had never felt such deep emotion for me at any time in our relationship. I also knew he had never been so turned on.

Damien lifted his head and kissed me once more, gently, before rolling to the side. I was still far from feeling sated and I moved up and over Ryan, straddling him. He moved his hands up to touch me, but I pinned them over his head. I leaned over him, letting my breasts brush against his chest. I moved my lips close to his, but I didn't kiss him.

"You have been the one in control for too long," I whispered. "Now it's my turn."

I relinquished his hands, reaching down to guide him towards me. He reached for my hips, and I slapped his hands away.

"You better behave, or I'll have to tie you up."

"Promise?"

"Don't speak until you're spoken to."