Wanting the Same Thing

Wanting the Same Thing

The bedroom was warm and almost dark, one last candle guttering on the nightstand as Dean eased his weight off me and looked down into my face with a slow, languid smile.

The aftershocks kept rolling through my body, sending flushes of heat and little catherine wheels of pleasure sparking through my nerves and he picked up on the conversation we'd been having before words had become redundant.

"There is one fantasy," he said slowly, his hand trailing lazily up my stomach and settling with a gentle squeeze over one full, aching breast. He leaned closer, tonguing over my nipple. "I want to see another man, exploring you, fucking you...I want to watch you come for someone else."

He lifted his head, eyes steady on my face as he waited for my reaction to that.

I smiled, just a little. "What a coincidence," I said, very softly. "My fantasy is watching another man fucking you."

There was a heartbeat of silence between us and I could just make out his eyes widening slightly as he absorbed the words and all the images they brought with them. He wasn't discomforted by the idea, I thought, a fizz of surprise making me wriggle a bit higher against the pillows behind me.

"Dean?"

He looked away, his thumb absently rubbing over my nipple and breast. I'd been right, I thought, he wasn't uneasy at the thought at all.

"Dean?" I asked again. "It wouldn't be the first time for you?"

He looked backed at me, ducking his head slightly, then shaking it. "No, wouldn't be the first time," he admitted, his voice smoky deep with a memory.

The candle's flame was consumed by the liquid wax and the room became darker. In the city there's always a little ambient light – streetlights, the lights of other buildings – and I could see the edge of his brow and cheekbone, outlined in that fainter glow from the window.

"I was at college, sophomore year," he told me. "In Cali and trying to fit in," he continued, his fingers skating down my stomach to curl around my hip. "There was a small party, one weekend, and by about three, everyone had gone but me and this other guy, a senior, couple of years older than me. Paul."

He sighed against my shoulder, and his hand wandered down the outside of my thigh, moving slowly, almost vaguely, as the memories crowded in on him.

"We were drinking beer and watching some porn movie, pretty innocent stuff," he said, his mouth twisting up derisively. "The party had been, kind of hands-on, you know, I'd spent most of the night hard and I had a pretty good one, watching this chick going down on some guy in the movie." He paused, and I saw him catch his lower lip between his teeth lightly. "Paul had gotten close to me, but I hadn't thought anything of it, I wasn't pie-eyed but I wasn't paying much attention. Then he leaned over and he kissed me, pushing me down on the couch."

I waited, breathless in the near-dark, aware that I was moist again, just listening to his recollection. I had the feeling he knew it too, his hand moving very slowly up the sensitive inside skin of my thigh as he spoke.

"At first, I thought – well, I'd been with a few chicks, one that night and I thought he was just drunk or something. I pushed him off and he started again, this time his hand started stroking me and that – that kind of paralysed me for a while, him kissing me, and his hand inside my jeans, sliding up and down."

His hand slid along the now very moist folds of my pussy and I spread my legs apart for him, caught between my imaginings of his story and the feel of his fingers, circling over my clit, slipping in and out of me.

"He unbuttoned my jeans and he got my cock out, as I was hard, hard as I'd ever felt before, and I started to kiss him back," he said, his breath rushing out in a soft exhale as his fingers slid deep inside me. "For a while, that's all it was, then he moved, started to lick and kiss my neck. He pulled my tee shirt off and he kept moving down my body, until I felt, uh, I felt his breath, hot on my cock."

"When he took it in his mouth, I fucking well nearly died," he said, thrusting two fingers into me, my body arching against him. "He licked all the way down and sucked in my balls, then he took my whole cock in his mouth, sucking at it until I came."

I was pretty close myself, and I heard the smile in his voice as he continued, "He swallowed it all, then kissed me again, whispering that he wanted me to suck on him. I was nervous, but fuck, I wanted to taste him, I wanted to – I don't know, I wanted to reciprocate. I pulled off his jeans and his shorts and I started to touch him and lick him, and I was turned on as much by that as by being blown."

In my mind's eye, I saw him, half-drunk and in the mood with the party and the porn and an older guy he wanted to like him, licking and sucking on that cock as Paul's hands ran over him and touched him in places he'd never been touched before. His thumb worked my clit and another finger joined the two, and he fucked me with them and I came, shaking helplessly on his hand, my muscles convulsing around him, the piercing shockwaves of pleasure radiating out and up and filling every part of my body.

"We spent the next few hours sucking each other and fingering each other, and just before dawn he told me he wanted to fuck my sweet ass," he said as my jerking and twitching slowed down, pulling his fingers out and sucking my come from them.

"I was fucking nervous about that," he admitted, smiling and pulling me closer to him, so we were skin to skin, right along the length of our bodies. "But he was good, slow. He rolled me over, and he worked my ass with his tongue, and fuck it felt good. When he put the first finger inside me, I got hard straight away, and he put another one in, pulling and stretching me out until I was ready for him. He lubed up and slid into me, and I damned near came then, from the feeling of him in me, from the way he moved, from his hand, reaching around and jacking me."

He bent his head and kissed me, his arm curled around me, pulling me against the thick throbbing cock that pressed against my stomach. When he broke the kiss, he pushed me over, onto my back, and settled himself over me, his eyes dark, rubbing the head over my clit, down the slick folds.

"He started fucking me hard when he figured I could take it, all the way in and all the way out and as hard as he could. I came all over that fucking couch, the second he came in me."

He thrust his cock into me with one hard, deep drive, and I shuddered at the feeling, mixed up in my mind with the way I could see him in my imagination, fucked hard, fucked until he came. My hips lifted to meet his, driving him deeper. Inside I was thick and engorged with blood, squeezing him tightly.

"So... yeah, baby," he said, one arm curled under the small of my back as he lifted me and held me still, eyes half-closed between the sensation he was feeling and the sense memories of that long-ago night. "I could do that again, some other guy, fucking me for you."

I arched up and matched his rhythm, thrusting hard against his him as the images of him being taken rolled through my mind. I wanted to see his face, as it was now, for another man, lost in the pleasure he was feeling, lost in being loved. Nothing was a bigger turn on for me than seeing him like that. He groaned as I started to come, shaking as he tried to hold on a bit longer, rutting hard when he admitted to himself that he couldn't.

~o-o-o-0-o-o-o~

It was less than a week later that he told me he'd organised what we wanted for Saturday night. Hard work to find exactly the right sort of guy, he said when I asked him how he managed so fast, but there wasn't any point doing it the wrong way.

On Saturday, we drove across town and checked into the mid-city hotel, an expensive but charming suite that would give us the privacy we needed and hopefully all the ambience we could ask for. I'd spent the previous afternoon doing all the girly things that such an event seemed to call for, waxing and tidying and facials, and when I got out of the tub an hour before our 'date' was due to turn up, my skin was soft and silky and as I checked myself critically in the full-length mirror in the bathroom, everything looked pretty good.

Dean spent an equal amount of time in the bathroom, and came out looking like the centrefold for an under-the-counter men's magazine. I lost my breath and felt myself melt inside. He could do that anyway, get me thoroughly soaked with a lingering look or a one-sided smile, and I stretched out on the bed as he joined me, revelling in the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hands. We'd had a very early dinner, and ordered up some more chilled wine and beer, wearing the light robes the hotel provided. When there was a discreet knock on the door, I sipped from my glass as Dean got up and answered it.

Our escort walked in and I hurriedly took a gulp of the wine at the sight of him. Tall, lean and muscular under a simply-cut suit, he had short blond hair, brilliantly blue eyes and a wide mouth, as full-lipped and sensuous as Dean's. This was not going to be difficult, I thought as he looked over and smiled. His name was Pete, he told us as he walked in, and he was glad to meet us. To say that was mutual was the understatement of the decade. It's not a lot of information but it was all we really needed to know.

He accepted a cold beer and undressed without the slightest self-consciousness. I'm not sure if Dean clued him in to the evening's agenda, but he sat close to me and he made steady eye contact, his gaze only occasionally dropping to my breasts and thighs, both mostly visible under the thin silk robe. When he put down his beer and leaned closer to take my glass from me, it seemed almost natural, as if we'd been friends for a long time. I'm not sure if that was a part of his 'role' or not, but boy, he was good at it.

He pushed me gently back on the bed and I heard Dean's sigh as he brought a chair closer, then Pete was kissing me, taking his time, his hand sliding over my skin and exploring without hurry, and I kissed him back, feeling a rush of excitement and arousal at being with someone completely new, someone very different. I hadn't been sure about this part, if it would feel awkward or as if I was cheating on Dean, somehow, but to be honest, I was lost in the different tastes and smells of the man lying over me, thrilled by the different touches, and I was more than ready to do anything he suggested.

He broke the kiss and his mouth trailed down my throat, as his hand found my breasts and the fingers brushed over them lightly, circling their fullness and grazing over the nipples. He found places that Dean hadn't – yet – that lit up my nervous system with charges of crackling heat and the whole time, I was aware of Dean, sitting close by, his eyes glued to the way this man was touching me, with his hands and his mouth, tasting and fondling and caressing and drawing out soft moans and hitched up breaths, I could hear his breathing becoming ragged, heavier as he worked a hand along himself while he watched.

Pete pushed my legs apart, revealing my swollen and deeply pink pussy to Dean as he sucked on one breast. He left hickeys along the tender sides and his teeth dragged over my nipples, making them rock-hard and super-sensitive to every following lick and breath. I felt his hands slide down the inside of my thigh and lifted my hips slightly, a tacit plea to touch me, hearing Dean's groan as he watched Pete's fingers slip through the folds of my lips, his thumb circling lazily over my clit as he dipped a finger deeper inside me.

Opening my eyes, just a little, I could see Dean's face, his lips parted and his breathing harsh as he watched Pete fingering me slowly and thoroughly, watched my reactions to that welcomed invasion, the slick moisture that coated the other man's fingers. He was jerking himself harder, a punishing rhythm that spread the lube he'd used from the head down to the root. The sight of him doing it, and doing it while watching another man's hand in me, sending a turgid flush of heat through me and a deep, aching, yearning itch for more.

My legs were pushed far apart as Pete dipped his head between them, his tongue lapping and tasting my dripping pussy, then settling over my clit to flick and tease and suck on it as he pushed two, then three fingers into me, fucking me with them and catching the sensitive patch of skin inside with every inward thrust and every outward curl. The combination of his mouth and his fingers was hijacking every one of my senses and hearing Dean's deep-chested groans from beside us seemed to inflame my body more than I thought possible. Neither he or I expected Pete's next move, sliding one of his soaked and slippery fingers from my pussy into my ass, and pushing it deep as he sucked on me hard and thrust the fingers of his other hand deep into me. I shuddered with the dual penetration, with the insistence of his mouth on my clit, with the low, drawn out moan from Dean as he watched us and his cock swelled again in his hand. I lasted maybe another few seconds, fucked and fingered and sucked, and my body convulsed around Pete's hands, my back bowing high off the bed as wave upon wave of deep pleasure oscillated from front to back and front again, rippling inside and up through my body. At the side, Dean grunted and came, his first spurt splashing over my stomach and Pete kept his rhythm until I was almost shaking the bed from the fierce reactive tremors he'd created.

He pulled his fingers out and ducked his head, pushing his tongue into me and licking out my come, then he shifted forward on the bed, his knees under the backs of my thighs and he thrust his long, thick cock into me.

I've come close to multiple orgasms, but I'd never had one. And I had no real idea that the tight, bright flashes of sensation that were humming through my internal muscles as he thrust into me harder and deeper and faster, were actually a continuation of that first monstrous flood of pleasure. I could hardly get a breath as they kept building and building inside of me, the head of Pete's cock scraping by the sensitive patch inside of me with every outward dragging pull and sending deeper and deeper stabs of shocking – and I mean literally shocking, like his cock was a high-voltage wire or something – through my pussy and into my ass, down my thighs and in sharp, jittery blasts up to my breasts. The bed tipped a little as Dean climbed on it beside me, kissing me, his fingers tweaking and twisting my nipples then moving down to rub over my clit in time with the pistoning of Pete's cock.

The second and third and fourth waves drowned me in sensation. I felt my body's contractions, squeezing and pulling and pummelling Pete from the inside, felt my breasts swelling larger as Dean moved his mouth to a nipple, sucking hard but the rest was a wash of pleasure that seemed to have no beginning and no ending and I couldn't do anything but lie there, my legs drawing up by themselves it seemed, to give the man inside a deeper access, and every muscle and tendon and nerve ending twitching and contracting and shuddering with the overload of intense pleasure. I didn't feel Pete coming, his breath rasping in and out of his throat in time with Dean's and probably mine too. He threw his head back as my body milked him out, sucking and pulling on his cock in rippled, concentric constrictions.

"Fuck," Dean said, letting himself fall forward, his cheek on my breast as Pete shook between my legs.

A second later, Pete fell forward too, staying inside me. Facing Dean, both men were resting themselves on my chest and I opened my eyes to see them looking at each other, sharing some common male triumph, perhaps, or something else. Pete lifted his hand and stroked it down the side of Dean's face, and they moved closer, their mouths brushing lightly together. I saw Dean's eyelids flutter shut, felt the heave of his chest as he dragged in a deep breath at the feel of another man's mouth on his, felt too the twitch of his cock where it pressed against my hip. He was very aroused, those little tells were as familiar to me as the colour of his eyes.

The light kiss deepened almost immediately, both of them lifting themselves onto their elbows as they leaned across me. Pete's fingers slid around the back of Dean's head, combing through the short hair, pulling him closer. Dean's hand rose to grip Pete's shoulder, his fingers digging in when the other man's tongue slid inside his mouth. I felt his cock twitch harder and watching them, their lips and tongues exploring each other's mouths, I could feel myself getting wet again, my pussy beginning to ache faintly.

I moved back up to the head of the bed, clearing the space between them and they moved closer together automatically, still kissing, rising to a sitting position, their hands free to explore each other's hard, muscled body. Both of them were hardening, and I saw the gleam of moisture from the head of Dean's, a pearlescent drop leaking out as flat male chest pressed hard to flat male chest. Neither had much hair on their chests, although both had a five-o'clock shadow already, and both had dense, soft pubic hair, their rigid shafts clearing it as they became more and more aroused with each other.

Dean tipped his head back and Pete's tongue slid down the skin of his throat, lips puckering as he felt a tremor through the man he caressed, and he sucked deeply at that sensitive skin. Dean had one arm wrapped around Pete's shoulders, holding him steady as the other trailed down Pete's side, slipping around to his back, exploring the taut stretch of flesh and cupping one of his cheeks. Pete moaned, very softly, shifting on the bed and drawing Dean across his legs, his thighs spread wide as he pulled him close.

Watching, my heart racing in my chest, the two men were facing each other, kissing again, their arms tight around each other. It was unbelievably erotic to see their passion for one another, especially when Pete's hand slid down Dean's back and curled around to stroke the line between his cheeks, rubbing insistently there, Dean's hips pushing hard against him, the muscles of his back contracting slightly as he felt the slight intrusion.

Pushing him down onto his back and capturing both of Dean's wrists in one large hand, Pete pushed them up toward me and I leaned forward and held them as he kissed and licked Dean's chest. It wasn't much of a restraint, of course, but Dean accepted it, lifting his hips when Pete moved down his body, teeth bared as he dragged them over Dean's nipples, then sucked on them. I couldn't believe the fluxing surges of heat that were filling me as he moved lower, spreading Dean's thighs apart and forcing them up, his head ducking to tongue the man's exposed ass and balls, and lick up and down the length of his steel-hard cock.

Moaning, Dean pulled a little against my hands, his eyelashes fluttering at the sensations Pete was pulling from him, the pre-come drops leaking steadily out now, caught by the tongue that swirled around his cock and licked over the head with increasing speed.

"Ah...oh...god!" Dean breathed, his hips lifting again as Pete took him into his mouth. "Oh...fuck!"

Grinning around the cock in his mouth, Pete looked up the length of Dean's body at him. "That what you want, Dean?" he asked, his fingers closing around the base and slowly pumping him. "You want me to fuck that tight, sweet ass?"

I couldn't see Pete's fingers but from the way Dean's body clenched tight, I thought that he was feeling him up, maybe sliding a pinky in and out. Dean nodded, his breath whistling through his teeth, his eyes screwed shut.

"Say it, baby," Pete said, ducking his head to lick him again, from the tight, full balls along the perineum and up to his ass. "Say what you want from me."