Work Out Hanger On

"What's Ken putting you through," I ask, "Haven't synced up for a bit."

"Still working with muy thai mostly. Trying to get me into jiu-jitsu or something. I like hitting things. Is that so wrong?"

"I am the wrong person to ask about that. Hitting things is the best. Everyone should hit something at some point."

Louise digs an elbow into my ribs and I am proven correct. It was a good course of action. It was the right course of action. Because I allow it to pivot and move and turn into a peck on the cheek. That seems to mollify her a bit, because I get one in return. Troy goes back to his food and there is not enough to take the moment away. His is clean and now he debates whether or not to go back up and get more food. He looks to my plate and finds nothing. He looks to Louise's and finds something else. Louise considers it and finds some deep pit of compassion as she slides it towards him. He only takes a bit and that's very considerate of him. He's still a bit sad and I don't know what would fix it. I don't have any more food.

"So, what are you doing after this," Louise asks.

"I think we're-" I start.

"Not you. Him."

"Honestly? Call it a night," he says, "Dick around on a dating app to see if anyone's biting for later. That's about all I got right now."

"Boo," I say and I get to finish this time. No elbow or shush or rude interruption.

"What else am I supposed to do? Struck out tonight and almost got in a fight. Got buzzed and now I have a belly full of meat. That's a good night. Only bad part was trying to hit on you."

There's just enough of a smile in his words to get an eye roll and not a fist to the nose. I'm a catch. Louise thinks so. Saoirse thinks so. I think so. And some of the glances he gives me kind of point to him agreeing. He does get a little kick in the shin. I find Louise's leg doing the same thing. We linger with each out her a moment and I think we have the same idea. I don't mind. She doesn't mind. He probably won't mind, but we still have to put it past him.

---

He had the same idea we did and he even agreed to it. Not quite enthusiastically, but I chalk that up to a general sluggishness that comes after a club. He'll get his second wind. He better. Louise is on her third or fourth and I don't know if my first ever went away. He also seems to like our place, easily settling into our couch as Louise busies herself playing host. I would help but I am playing with our guest. The game is idle chatter that doesn't seem to go anywhere. Kind of interesting to hear him talk about finances. I don't understand any of it, but there is a mystical veil. I am talking to a wizard and his arcane mysteries. The simple berserker brain that only understands rocks on sticks and sex nods along to the funny words of the magic man. I like them. Heloc, money market, liquidity. Roll right off the tongue.

"So," he says, "I gotta ask, what's next for you two? You have a place, a bank account. House, travel?"

"Oh my God. We need a vacation together," Louise says, "I can't believe I never thought of that. You at the beach. I can't wait."

"Or we could just get some bikinis," I say, "that would do the same thing. And we'd probably end up in the same place anyway."

Troy's hands look for something to do. Louise gives him a glass of water and that does the job well enough. I understand. My throat's a bit dry too. I got Troy back to my place and there's really only one place this can go. Its heading there and it will end there and then it will be over. The bits after are where the worry comes from.

I watch his fingers, his hands. Soft things, nimble things, working a glass with almost artistic ease. It can't be easy to make holding a cup look good, but he does it. And it leads me to his arms. His jacket hides most of it, but I have some understanding of what's underneath. He works out in tank tops. The fingers say he's nervous, scared, caught in a trap that has his ankle snared. A moment will come where he is yanked up and turned all around. Then we will come to skin and gut and feast. He is not wrong, although I think he will enjoy the whole thing more than he knows. I have my own cup and that's nice. It's cold and sharp and makes fun little clinks as the ice cubes rattle around. Troy tries to say something and then stops. He tries again and it works.

"Y'know, I have a crush on you right," he says, "And I know that's an awkward thing to say. You have someone and it seems to be going well. But I just had to say that. So, I said it."

"No kidding," I say, "I had no idea. No clue at all. Not an inkling of an idea of a thought. But you're right. Who wouldn't have a crush on me?"

"I have one on her," Louise says as she sidles next to me, legs in my lap, "It's fun. I think about her all the time and then she's there. And then we have sex. And then we have sex again."

"And now you're making fun of me," he sighs.

"Little bit, but why do you think we brought you back here?"

"I thought that was in the cards, but y'know, never want to assume that. If it goes south, then I'm the asshole, right?"

"Not wrong at least. But it's me we're talking about," I sigh, "You have to have some ideas in your head. C'mon. Tell me. I really want to know."

"You're not going to let me just walk out of here?"

"If you can walk when this is over, we fucked up," shrugs Louise, "And I can share. It's fun to share. We all share each other and it's fun. And then we have more fun and in the morning, we have breakfast. That honestly might be my favorite part."

"The breakfast is really good. There's a Blackberry Café like two blocks over."

That does seem to get something in him. Everyone likes Blackberry. He's still nervous and that needs to go away. Suddenly, his stag status makes sense. If this is how he gets when it's coming to the finish line, then no wonder he's here now. Lucky for him, I have a bit more initiative.

I move my hand without care to cup Louise's breast. If he doesn't start moving things up, then we will be here for a while.

It's fun to play with her and tease her and do so many things with a hand. I roll and twist and pinch. She tries to stay quiet and still and calm. It's a good game we play. I don't think we'll ever stop. Louise kicks her feet a bit and shifts a bit deeper into the couch. She likes this couch. We've done a lot on this couch. I will hate the day where we finally end up breaking it, if only because good furniture is very expensive.

Troy tries to be a gentleman, averting his gaze to the endless fascination of his cup. It's cold. He's trying to figure it out. It must be the ice cubes inside that perform such wonder. And he's an idiot to be a gentleman at this point. We are in the privacy of a locked door and closed curtains. There is no need for anything so civilized. He could strip right now. He should strip right now. He should get fucking naked and crawl over here so I can trace his muscles and grip things I want to grip, fish out his cock and do terrible, terrible things to the whole of his being. I squeeze the nipple under my hands a bit harder than I normally would. So, I have the game in mind. Louise will have more and more and more fun with me until Troy decides that he is done being a silent little mouse and dives into our shared game. He's the shining prince, Louise is the hopeless damsel and I am the big scary dragon. I like the thought of being a dragon.

Louise finally makes a noise that has no other meaning than the simple pleading for something more. She's still in her wonderful dress and I don't mind it for the moment We will come to a point where it better be off or it's getting ripped away. I don't care about mine anymore. It's getting stretched out any way this goes down. The seams are already coming undone, the bulge going threadbare and frayed. I've been good for the whole night and its finally time to do something bad. I couldn't punch someone, so I guess I get to hit something else. Louise tries to hide another fun little noise but it still comes out. Troy's turning red.

"Do you want me to go or something," he asks, "I don't want to intrude on anything."

"Depends," I say, "Do you want to go? Personally, I'd at least stay and watch. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get naked soon and that seems like something you'd want to see. I know I would want to see my crush naked."

"I mean, Louise do you mind?"

She makes a noise and presses into my body a bit more. She settles into my lap, splayed out the whole length of the couch. I have her entire body to play with. She doesn't mind. She can't mind. I am touching her and poking her and playing with her. The entire world can watch for all she cares. The entire world should watch her and me. Troy is enough though.

He can't ignore what I am doing, what sounds she is making, what fun we are having. Beat red now, playing at his collar locked on us and my fingers. I move to her legs and they are just as hard, just as tense as I thought they would be. I remember them, the way a knot forms on her thigh when she's stressed, the way some of the tendons vibrate like cello strings when I run my plans down. She isn't tense right now. She is eager and brimming and almost bouncing off the walls. We should be going faster. I am poking her in the small of her back and that is just a prelude to what I can do to her. She knows. She remembers.

I glance up and smile. Troy is enraptured. And he is hard. Still trying to play the chaste hero, but I can see it start to snake down his leg. I don't know what the full surprise will entail, but he can free himself. Louise sits up a bit and finds my face. One last gaze full of reason and care, she closes her eyes and kisses me. I kiss back, working my tongue, my lips, my teeth. We are putting on a show after all and I swear I will beat him if he doesn't grow a pair and actually come over to do something with us.

I go under her hem and she is excited. She is so excited and dripping and open while I sit her in my lap and just play with her. More noises, little squeaks and moans and giggle trills that convey some raw joy for all of us here and she is eager with the way she moves her hips. I play with her through the thin cotton. I know what color they are. Deep lavender, no lace, something simple and plain, but still enticing. I never cared for lace and frills and fancy lines of thread. Practical and clean and simple. I am wearing something similar. I look up again and move her dress so he can see more.

And he's finally doing something. His hand is gripping his hardness and trying to keep it tame. Simple strokes up and down, up and down, up and down, trying to find something calming that he can do without drawing any more attention to himself. He coughs and shifts and sinks back into the fabric. I sigh and break from Louise, staring him dead in the eye. A hand moves Louise's leg a bit farther apart. He can see everything. And he is looking. My eyes ask the question. And he answers it with a moment's trepidation.

He takes one more drink and gets up. The jacket is gone and I watch his sleeves hug his arms. They are tight, so tight. I can watch everything flex and bend as he comes nearer. He has put in the bitter work of every bit of him. He has complained and moaned and done everything in his power to fight that off, but here are the results. Grace and power coming to kneel before me, just at the edges of our game, just about to dive in and join. I can't be more excited. I think the arch in Louise's spine is mostly just to let me be comfortable, really.

I spread her legs a bit more and he watches me play for a while longer. Still nothing direct, but that is for him to decide. There is space for him as I roll up the hem of her dress. He takes it slowly, marveling at the hardwood thighs flexing and twitching and trying to find something to push against. They find his head and pull him in.

We are all so close and he is still just a barrier away. He looks up to me and I melt. His eyes are big and pleading and desperate, still holding everything back that he wants out of some need for desperate affirmation. I smile and nod, pulling her panties away and giving him whatever he wants.

All the trepidation is gone as he darts and plants onto Louise's weeping heat. She gasps and moans while I laugh. I play with her chest, tease her mouth with my thumb, stroke her hair. And Troy gets the same. I brush a lock behind his ear, stroke the back of his neck, nudge his feast a bit right or left as I know she likes. His eyes are closed now, lost in the simple act. I am steel hard, clenching and flexing and doing everything in my power to let them have this moment without me as I truly am.

"You're going to hate me," Louise whines, "But I think he's better at head than you. Eep!"

That little compliment brought out a fun little trick I can't quite see. Louise likes it though. She gets my thumb again, playing on her lips, her teeth, her tongue.

"I'm curious though," I murmur, "is he better than you?"

That pulls a laugh that quickly turns into a bottle choked noise with no name. Her legs tense and lock him in, trying to shatter bone into dust. Troy manages to stay on, lost to the pleasure given. His hips are swaying side to side and I don't think it's intentional. It's too inviting. It's giving me too many ideas on what to do next.

Louise's climax is long, drawn out with a tongue that I can't wait to feel do terrible things to me. He really does know what to do. I go back to stroking his hair and I finally get another glimpse for approval. I give it to him with a soft peck on the crown of his head, Louise's release arcing up to hit my cheek as well. She's always under such high pressure. I like letting her let it all out. Troy, to his credit, rides it out well. My praise does him well.

"You're doing so good," I whisper to him and that makes him melt as he keeps trying to get more out of her.

And then he pulls away and watches everything unfold, smiling and smug and then it all clicks. It doesn't matter. The weird bit of anxiety that always comes with imminent fucking is gone. We are in the act and then it's all an act of where the boundaries lie. That's the game. We can find out now once the door is open.

"Do you mind if I clean up before we go on," he asks, surprisingly timid. He gets a peck on his cheek and I taste Louise on him. I want to say no. I am getting impatient, but we have time. I remind myself that we have time now.

I nod and he gives me a bright innocent smile, unknowing of what is coming. I'm excited. I hope we keep going. I know I can be a lot to take in.

---

Ten minutes with my clothes still on and that is far too long. I tidy up Louise and get her most of the way naked. Still in her underwear, but those I plan to rip off when the show starts for real. I am tasting her and playing her tongue with mine. She's enthusiastic tonight, wrestling me down until she's laying on top of me. My dress drapes over my stomach, my chest free. She plays with my breasts, reminiscent of my brutish pawing. Her hands are smaller than mind, sharper and piercing and touching. It feels good to have them massaged, not even in the erotic sense. The dress did not allow for anything close to the real level of support I need. My back's going to ache tomorrow. Luckily, I have another pair of hands around to help manage. If he shows up again. He better show up again. Louise has things to do and what I'm going to do to her now is conducive to that.

"Do you guys want anything to drink before I sit down again," says the most beautiful voice in the world.

"Just water," I mumble through Louise.

"Cups are to the right," she mumbles through me, "No, less right than that. Up a bit."

She tastes good. She tastes like Louise and that's all I want. Troy knows what that is and now that's all he'll want. I break from her lips to a pleading moan, replaced with a hiss as I nibble on her neck. She has new muscles there that I play with and watch twitch.

"Am I interrupting something," he asks, completely earnest.

"Only if you don't join," I ask. He, like an absolute idiot, is still wearing pants. Bare chest at least and that suits him well. The work's done good things to his chest and stomach. Hard and rippling and deep lines.

"Take off your pants," I growl. That gets an odd look, almost terror, still that little bit of nervousness from him and I don't care. He is not naked. I am not naked. One of us needs to change and since I am preoccupied with a Louise, it's all down to him.

"Yeah," says Louise, "She's your crush. You have to play 'I show you mine if you show me yours.'"

"Only if the crush goes first," he says with a not insignificant amount of quivering lips.

I want to argue but it's still a step forward. So, it's fine. It's all fine. Louise has to move a bit and that's terrible, but the relief from the weight is nice. It needs a different pressure.

I shift and move and come to stand before him. He's taller than me, but not by much. A half a head, a bit more if I get off my toes. His eyes go to my chest. He gets a show and that is something he likes.

I drop the rest of my dress and he is surprised, to say the least. He doesn't quite know what to do with all my shapes, other than gawk. I pull my underwear down and that is even more surprising. His eyes go even wider, a nervous swallow going down his throat. I watch his version of it dance and writhe and twitch under his slacks. HE doesn't run and that just makes me want to chase him down more.

"Ok," he says, almost scared, "didn't expect that."

"Your turn."

He straightens his shoulders, rolls his neck and tries to muster up what little courage he had before. The glasses are almost forgotten on the table. Louise is watching us with complete awe.

He drops his hem line in one fell swoop. A bandage, really, something to get over quick and clean and as painlessly as possible. I bark out a sharp laugh and he goes ruby red, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Fuck you," says Louise, "Just fuck you, you bastard."

"What? What?" he stammers, "I know it's not as big-"

"Shut the fuck up. You don't get to pull that card. Not when you're swinging that around."

He shuffles at bit and his own length bobs in its proud tradition. The poor boy has so many problems in common with me. It is smaller than mine, but not by much. Not by much at all. A little difficult to gauge accurately, but I am feeling things I haven't felt in a long time. My core clenches and twitches and my own arousal drips down my thighs. I have been neglecting that part of me for far too long, it seems. Something to consider. Louise does have that toy I've been meaning to try.

I don't let him get away. A hand goes around his waist, one to his neck and I pull him in. He still carries Louise on his tongue and I am throbbing, beading heavy pearls for everything I have. I am forcing us to be closer. To his credit, he only struggled a bit, and that was from the surprise of it all. His arms go around my shoulders and that's makes us even closer.

We intertwine in every way. He is warm, so warm, so incredibly warm. There is the pulse and throb of his heartbeat pounding in my ears. I freeze as his own beads start to drip over me. Louise groans and I don't care.

"I have to deal with two of these now," she whines.

"Why are you complaining," I hum through him. He doesn't even care about responding. There are slight motions in his hips that I enjoy. It's making me make more for him. And he is making more for me. It falls on my toes and I swear it is steaming.

"Because... because I don't know. It doesn't feel fair."

"To who?" he murmurs. His voice has dropped to a needy raspy growl and that just does more of the same.

"To me? I don't know. How am I supposed to take both of them?"