Wanting Beauty

Suddenly, Marshall heard Cliff's door opening and saw light begin to spill out. He rolled to the side further into the alcove, pulling Callie with him as Trinity whipped up his boxers and met Cliff at the door to ask what was up. Cliff was exasperated by Trinity's lame excuse for why he needed to stay in his room, but he complied, shutting his door again.

The shock worn off, Marshall turned back to Callie, still clenching her soft cheeks on top of him, though he'd slid out, and returned her smile. She leaned down, gripping Marshall's erection and settling herself onto it, taking him in with a contented, slow sigh. Trinity positioned himself over Marshall, his familiar, swollen cock in hand, as he guided it back to Callie's waiting mouth. Marshall looked up at Callie's breasts, her stiff pink nipples, and the bottom of her mouth and throat as it worked to milk Trinity again. And Marshall looked up at Trinity, softly petting Callie's hair and pulling her onto him, his balls swaying as pendulums over Marshall's face. The scent of their fucking was hot. Hot and floral and animalistic and torrential. Marshall was bathing in them, a part of something because he was apart from it, invited and desired and trusted to be left to his own to feel his way through their moment.

He took the scene in with awe, running his hands gently over Callie's soft curves, along her hips to her ribs to her breasts to her back and then to her ass again, feeling himself moaning involuntarily as his cock thrummed inside her. Callie seemed to sense Marshall's elation and jerked herself harder onto him, pushing his chest down with her hands while Marshall's waist jerked upwards, his cum blasting from him into Callie. He quivered and spasmed as Callie writhed, with short, quick flicks of her pussy bearing down on him, draining and flooding him inside her. At last, Marshall was able to open his eyes again and breathe normally, his cock softening before he'd hoped.

"Damn, Marshall," Trinity said quietly, with just the slightest hint of amusement, "why'd you do that to Callie?" Callie looked down at Marshall, taking Trinity out of her mouth for a moment, and smiled reassuringly. She let Marshall roll out from under her and returned in full force to sucking Trinity.

After a moment of consideration, Marshall positioned himself on his back between Callie's thighs and lifted his head to run his stubble over her lips. Callie quivered assent, so Marshall pressed on, pushing his tongue through her slit and slathering between her lips up to her crest where he brought his jutted bottom lip in to join, sealing her clit with his top lip. Mustering all the saliva he could, he pointedly suckled as far as his lips and tongue could go, reaching for the soft, squishy button to rub against. Callie shuddered, pausing from her ministrations on Trinity for a moment, while Marshall gripped the meat above her hips and pressed himself more desperately into her, his tongue flicking and lips brushing and pulling it to him while he filled her with his saliva and tasted the cum he'd just deposited in her.

"Keep going, Callie," Trinity said, pulling her head more forcefully over him, as Marshall felt Callie shiver in his hands and her soft moaning beneath the rhythmic gagging and gulping. Trinity apparently finished, Callie pulled her lips off of him, trailing cum to her chin as she gratefully but impatiently pulled herself from Marshall, a tender smile on her lips and elation in her eyes.

"I should go check on Cliff," Marshall said as he stood, tucking his still-cum-soaked dick into his boxers and pulling up his pants. "... I should go clean up first."

Chapter 11: Breaking the Thrall

Shortly after, Marshall clumsily wrote a poem that he thought could cleverly reveal their secret and keep it hidden. He called it "3." He shared it with them and they were flattered, subtextually confirming they were also happy with their moment.

There's no distance between us, Marshall thought, at first proud of the revelation and then worried about it. Their secret had compounded and his desperate insecurities and inability to understand one person had spread across two, who often fought - who often found the words to hurt each other with. How soon before they hurt me, too? Will they keep me and want me again? How long can we keep this up? Trinity, for his part, was committed, Marshall knew. Though that commitment is to the moment, not to me.

When Trinity and Callie moved in together months later, they invited Marshall over, excited to show him their place. It was an open concept apartment, the kitchen and bedroom and family room all adjoined without walls, separated from a bathroom. It's open, Marshall marveled and daydreamed. A place with no fear of being caught. Lights on, wherever we want - all of us. Trinity and Callie continued enthusiastically hinting at the possibilities while Marshall imagined that freedom and fullness.

It's open. And Trinity and Callie want me to join them.

As they finished watching a movie, they talked for a while about how good it was before Trinity stripped down to his boxers on the raised platform of their bedroom, absently stroking himself as he prepared the bed, chattering away about being happy Marshall could come and stay the night. Marshall stood, too, and asked if he could take a shower.

"Sure," Trinity replied. "Callie, can you get him a towel?"

When Marshall went into the bathroom, Callie followed him in. Marshall stripped down to his boxers and accepted the towel, hesitating as he looked at her - looked at her looking at him. In the stillness, Callie smiled and Marshall leaned down to kiss her. As Marshall felt Callie melt into the kiss, Marshall's heart quickened and his penis surged to life, sliding through the slat of his boxers unaided and pressing against Callie's shirt. The thrill returned as Callie wrapped her arms around Marshall, pulling him against her. Marshall's throb slid against her belly and his hands passionately slid over her back, pulling her shirt up as they pulled back, Callie raising her arms to assist. Callie undid her own bra as Marshall slid down his boxers, gently gripping Callie's hips and tucking his fingers under her panties, feeling the heat emanating from her, smelling her sweetness, longing to feel her coarse and velvet pussy against his face as he tasted her.

Feeling Callie's own heart quickening, Marshall slid her panties down slowly, wetly kissing the inside of her thigh as he did, before gently walking he and Callie into the shower. Marshall turned the water on, looking for the right heat, as Callie leaned her full, supple chest onto his back and reached around to impatiently stroke his cock. After a moment, the heat started and Marshall leaned back, into Callie, sliding his hands back around to her sides, feeling the firm shape and smoothness of her ass as she continued stroking him.

The water confused Marshall's senses. He had never been able to jerk off in the shower; it disoriented his imagination and was too insistent to sublimate to the rhythm Marshall needed. Callie, perhaps sensing that Marshall was not responding as he ought or turning around again to face her, slid to the side of Marshall to get in front of him and kneel and take him in her mouth, locking eyes with Marshall as she did. Her deep, caring eyes, Marshall thought affectionately. Marshall ran his hands through her hair and felt himself bounce within her, encased in the thick warmth she passionately applied to his cock.

Callie kept her eyes on Marshall even when they heard Trinity enter the bathroom, pulling back the curtain to let their steam escape - and a shivering pulse from Marshall, and taking a moment to watch them. "Callie's so good at this, isn't she, Marshall?"

Marshall realized he hadn't been talking to Callie this whole time and nodded, looking back down at her and running his hands along her cheek. "You are so beautiful."

After a moment, Trinity closed the curtain and left while Marshall relished the heat of the shower and the warmth of Callie more fully, but worried he was taking too long. He let himself spill softly into her and appreciated her as she gulped and tried for more but then stood her up and traded places with her, his back to the faucet.

As Marshall stood there, leaning towards her and preparing to kneel, his breath caught as he beheld her. He stood as a windbreak, inadvertently chilling her, as she quivered, wet from the shower and wet with anticipation. I'm sorry, Callie, he whispered inside. You sweet, beautiful girl. He slowly ran his fingers and eyes down her goosebumps along the rivulets over her curves and she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing his back and hips frantic and ready. He hoisted and groped the pliant flesh of her buoyant tits, wrapping his mouth hungrily around one nipple and suckling before switching to the other, leaning into her as her back arched in return, his hands firmly and passionately running over her ribs, to her belly, to her inner thighs, exploring and kneading the crevices up to her pelvis as he felt the soft friction of her bush with his knuckles.

As he pulled away and knelt, Marshall slid his hands over her hips again to guide her against the back corner wall of the shower, holding her in place as he passionately kissed the length of her lips, feeling the cloying scent of her readiness as he pressed his mouth more firmly into her and continued kissing. He let himself breathe into her, sucking back in as his lips and tongue sloshed and wrapped around every centimeter of her.

He increased the strength of his grip as he pushed further into her folds, hearing Callie pant and moan as he did.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes Marshall. Yes." She gripped his hair and guided him true. When Marshall felt the bone of her cervix and his tongue flicked across the bumpy texture of her clit, he pulled in, hard. Callie tensed - every muscle in her body at his mercy - and Marshall flooded it with more of his saliva, washing, flicking, wrapping, and pulling in sequence and urgency until Marshall's mouth was filled with her taste. Her moans had become shivers as her fingers gripped into his shoulders, trying to release him but pulling him in as she shuddered wave after wave of orgasm over him.

Finally, Marshall released her and stood, looking back down at her as she caught her breath, her eyes desperate and meaningful as she looked back, still leaning against the wall, still yielding to Marshall's hold on her. Marshall kissed her then, gently, as they both softened to the moment, though Marshall remained hard, his erection brushing against Callie without interrupting the sentiment. After a moment, Marshall turned off the shower and toweled Callie off, then himself, and left the bathroom, still nude, to find Trinity likewise, lying on the bed on his back, legs sprawled, slowly stroking and holding his enormous cock upright, watching them approach.

Trinity got out of the bed as they neared, still holding himself, as Callie lied down on her side watching.

"Get over here," Trinity motioned Marshall in front of him, on the side of the bed.

Marshall did and Trinity pushed Marshall's shoulders down to the sheets, positioning himself to take Marshall from behind. Marshall heard Trinity spit and felt the heat of Trinity's cock, inches away, as he tried to mentally prepare himself. He awkwardly avoided looking at Callie, unsure how to still be a person - himself - while in such a position; instead, he turned his head to try and see Trinity before feeling his pulsing, mostly dry dick head pressing against his entrance.

Marshall tensed instinctively but Trinity said, "No, lean into me."

Marshall tried to do so, gasping and convulsing as he felt his stretching, failing resistance wrap around Trinity's thickness as it slid into him. Trinity's hands gripped Marshall's lower back, grunting, as he finished the initial thrust with his own hips. Again, no words found their way out of Marshall, whether because he didn't know what he could say, or because his senses were too overwhelmed - his muscles and insides too much in chaos for him to lose any part of his attention to speak. It didn't matter; Marshall just leaned, rolled back, and convulsed on Trinity's cock, slowly and rhythmically. Trinity's grip became more forceful after a while, pulling Marshall to him rather than waiting for him. The shock and numbed pain of it stole yet more air from Marshall's throat, but as Trinity's speed increased, he slid one hand under Marshall and began pulling on Marshall's turgid cock.

"You want my dick, don't you?" Trinity softly growled, squeezing at Marshall's cock. "You want me to fuck you in the ass." Marshall was both grateful for the effort and sensitive to his words, letting himself view the moment as it was - to find the thrill in being used so fully, and the intimacy of offering his shame to the man he loved.

Abruptly, Trinity slowed and released Marshall, sliding onto the bed on his back while Marshall positioned himself to accommodate, face-to-face with Trinity's eager, massive erection. Trinity's hands moved to the back of Marshall's hair, motioning to pull his head in and begin what they'd done so many times before.

Marshall hesitated, "But that was in my ass," he whispered quietly.

"Yeah, come on," Trinity urgently replied.

"I'm sorry," Marshall almost whimpered, pleading. "I can't."

Sighing, Trinity got up again and got behind Marshall, lifting his ass up with a touch. Marshall slid his arms beneath him and knees up to angle for Trinity, who returned to fucking him. Deep, powerful thrusts and pulls overwhelmed Marshall so quickly it almost felt pleasurable, marveling at Trinity's strength and how big he was. Finally, Marshall felt liquid cooling in him as Trinity's thrusts became shorter and slower, before pulling out of him altogether.

"I'm going to go clean up," Marshall said as amicably as he could, gauging if Trinity were offended. Trinity nodded and energetically suggested they watch a movie next. Marshall looked over at Callie, who had fallen asleep, and smiled.

"Oh don't worry about that," Trinity said. "Callie, do you want to watch a movie?" Callie mumbled a complaint at waking up and Trinity turned back to Marshall, nodding. "Let's watch a movie."

In the bathroom, Marshall sat on the toilet, wiping himself and expelling what he could. As he did, he recalled Trinity's request and felt a tremor of panic seize him. What am I? What do they think I am? Marshall's mind raced. Think about it later. It doesn't mean anything. We'll find a way through this.

Marshall shivered as he put on his clothes, still in the bathroom, his heart beating so painfully fast that he had to hold his hand to his heart and consciously try to slow it. With his best effort at normal - not that I know what that is - he came back out of the bathroom and told Trinity, who was back in his boxers, getting a glass of water, that he'd go to the superstore nearby and buy a movie they'd wanted to see.

"I think they're closed," Trinity said, checking the time. "Just stay. We'll watch something here."

Marshall gently insisted that he was pretty sure they were open and that they'd really love the movie. "I'll be quick."

"I'll wait for you," Trinity said distractedly before turning back to look at Marshall as he opened the door to leave.

Marshall's heart sank and he felt he might cry, but kept enough control of himself to nod a quick smile, taking in the sight of Trinity and Callie once more before leaving.

When he made it to his car, he turned on a CD, every song of which had felt like a soundtrack of his years-long relationship with Trinity; the longing and chaos and regret and hope fell on Marshall as he drove down empty streets, holding back the overpowering urge to surrender to that cold void pulsing within him.

On pulling in, parking and walking up to the locked doors, Marshall choked back tears, rushing back to his car, where he sat, hands on the wheel, head down, and began to sob.

He fell through his life, observing the confusing moments in a torrent of chaos that echoed doubts, shame, fear, and loss through his mind in an angry cacophony. Through it all, Marshall clasped his self protectively as he and it shrank further and further into the void, whispering "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," as he cried.

When Marshall slowed himself from crying, eventually, he pulled out his phone and considered what he could text - what he should say.

God. What do I even feel right now?

He stared at his phone, thinking of never seeing Trinity again - what was once his worst fear - and let himself steel to it, choosing to believe he could be better than this.

They're closed, Marshall texted.

Are you on your way back? Trinity replied.

I think I'll just go home, Marshall replied.

Ok, Trinity replied after a moment.

Marshall sighed and shut off his phone, starting the car and turning the music up as he drove through the night, away from Trinity, for the last time.

Epilogue: The Truth of Goodbyes

Marshall was never as clever as he thought, never as romantic as he thought, and never as deep, or kind, or bold, or sympathetic. In essence, Marshall was incapable of love and so he found none. By the time he turned thirty, those paths towards love - the promises he'd bartered on for so long - were gone from him and all he had were memories and fantasies and wishes and regrets.

He looked Trinity up years later on social media and was grateful to him for accepting a friend request. Trinity was happy. He was married to Callie. They had a kid.

Marshall was out at a club, feeling out of place as usual, so had stepped outside into the warm summer night air to message Trinity, alone again with him. He chose his words carefully to avoid any misinterpretations, keeping it light and disconnected, desperate only to just keep talking.

Eventually, Trinity messaged the signal that their conversation was at an end. Marshall stared at the bright, white light of his phone's keyboard wondering what he could say.

I want you to be happy, Marshall. You're worth loving, Trinity's message read.

Thanks, Trinity, Marshall slowly typed back, closing his eyes and seeing Trinity in the backseat of his brother's car staring back at him.