“Come on, Grace, it’ll be fine,” Jeffrey said, his voice a coaxing whisper in the quiet apartment. “It’s just a bit of fun.”
The air had anticipation, a strange tension coiling around the room. I couldn’t believe the conversation we were having. Jeffrey, my boyfriend of almost a year, was sitting across from me on the couch, his eyes pleading, his body tense. The TV flickered with the unwatched news, casting shadows on his handsome face. The idea of a threesome had been thrown into the mix, and now it hung there, awkward and heavy, like a grenade with the pin pulled.
His best friend, Mike, had been the subject of Jeffrey’s suggestion. Mike was… not my type. Too loud, too rough around the edges, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. But Jeffrey swore it would be okay, that he’d wear a condom, that it was just something he wanted to try. He said it would bring us closer together, that it would be a wild, unforgettable experience. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, trying to understand the sudden urgency behind his proposal.
“You know I don’t like Mike,” I finally murmured, feeling the weight of his stare on me.
Jeffrey’s expression softened, and he leaned in, taking my hand. “I know, but it’s not about Mike. It’s about us, exploring our boundaries together.” His thumb traced lazy circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm. “You trust me, right?”
I studied his earnest gaze, the familiar lines around his eyes that crinkled when he laughed, the way his hair flopped over his forehead. Did I trust him? Yes, but this… this was different. It was a leap into the unknown, a wild, uncharted territory that could either bond us or tear us apart. I bit my lip, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, my voice trembling.
Jeffrey’s expression fell, but he didn’t push. He sat back, his hand sliding away from mine. “Okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “We don’t have to.” For a moment, I felt relief, but then he added, “But I want you to think about it. We’re in this together, and I want us to grow together.”
The conversation lingered in the air, thick and uncomfortable, as we went through the motions of our evening. Jeffrey was careful not to pressure me further, giving me space to process his proposition. Yet, his desire was palpable, a silent plea that wove through our dinner, our TV show, even our goodnight kiss. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment in our relationship.
Days passed, and the tension grew, a low hum just beneath the surface of our usual banter. Jeffrey never brought it up again, but I knew he was waiting, hoping. Every time Mike’s name was mentioned, my stomach twisted into knots. The more I thought about it, the more the idea of sharing Jeffrey with someone else felt like a betrayal of our intimacy. But Jeffrey’s words echoed in my mind: “It’s about us, exploring our boundaries together.” Was I being selfish, clinging to outdated notions of fidelity? Was I holding us back?
One evening, as Jeffrey and I cuddled on the couch, a movie playing in the background, his hand slid down my waist, his fingers brushing the hem of my shirt. I felt a warmth spread through me, the familiarity of his touch comforting. He kissed my neck, his breath hot on my skin, and I shivered. His hand slipped under my shirt, caressing my stomach, and I leaned into him, my eyes fluttering shut. It was then that he whispered, “What if Mike joined us tonight?”
My eyes snapped open, and I sat up, pushing his hand away. “We said we’d talk about it,” I reminded him, my voice tight.
Jeffrey looked at me, his expression a mix of surprise and disappointment. “I know,” he said, “but I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”
I took a deep breath, the room suddenly feeling too small. “I haven’t,” I said firmly. “But I want to understand why it’s so important to you.”
Jeffrey sighed, his shoulders dropping. “It’s just… something I’ve always fantasized about,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I thought with you, it could be perfect.”
I searched his eyes, trying to understand the depth of his desire. “But why Mike?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Jeffrey paused, his hand hovering in the space between us. “Mike’s always had a thing for you,” he said finally, his voice a little too casual. “And I want to show him that you’re mine.”
I stared at him, my thoughts racing. Jeffrey had never been the possessive type, so why the sudden need to claim me in front of his friend? It didn’t sit right with me, but I didn’t want to dismiss his feelings outright. “What if it doesn’t go as planned?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly.
He took my hand again, his grip firm. “It will,” he assured me. “We’re in control here. We make the rules.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. The desire in Jeffrey’s eyes was undeniable, and I knew he wouldn’t let this go easily. I felt torn between my own reservations and the need to make him happy. Our relationship had always been about compromise, but this felt like a line I wasn’t ready to cross.
“Okay,” I said finally, my voice small. “But we need to set some ground rules.”
Jeffrey’s face lit up, and he leaned in to kiss me, his enthusiasm palpable. I felt a strange mix of excitement and dread, my stomach doing flips. Over the next few days, we talked in hushed tones about what would happen, setting boundaries that we both agreed on. Jeffrey was adamant about using protection, and I was clear that Mike was not to touch me without my explicit consent.
The night arrived, and with it, a heavy sense of anticipation. Mike showed up at our apartment, looking nervous and overeager. He brought a bottle of whiskey, and we all took shots to ease the tension. The alcohol burned my throat, and I felt the warmth spread through my body, loosening my inhibitions just enough to allow the idea to seem less terrifying. Jeffrey’s hand was on my thigh, his eyes on mine, as we made our way to the bedroom.
Mike followed, his eyes never leaving me. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, and it made me uncomfortable. The room was dimly lit, with candles flickering on the nightstand. Jeffrey pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me, his breath hot against my ear. “Ready?” he whispered.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Jeffrey’s hands began to roam over my body, his kisses growing more urgent. I closed my eyes, focusing on the familiar sensation of his touch, trying to ignore the third presence in the room. Mike cleared his throat, and Jeffrey stepped back, allowing him to take his place. His hands were rough, his kisses too eager, and I found myself pulling away.
“Grace,” Jeffrey murmured, his voice thick with lust. “It’s okay.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath, and let Mike’s hands continue to explore me. He was clumsier than Jeffrey, his touch less gentle, but there was something thrilling about the newness of it. Jeffrey watched us intently, his eyes dark with desire. He stepped back, his own need evident as he began to strip, revealing his taut body in the candlelight. My eyes were drawn to him, even as Mike’s hands continued to wander.
As Mike’s kisses grew more insistent, Jeffrey stepped closer, guiding him, showing him how to touch me. I felt like a marionette, their hands moving me this way and that. But it was Jeffrey’s touch that sent shivers down my spine, Jeffrey’s voice in my ear that made my heart race. He was the conductor of this intimate symphony, and Mike was just an instrument playing along.
My clothes came off piece by piece, until I was standing in front of them both, naked and exposed. Jeffrey’s eyes devoured me, and for a moment, I forgot about Mike, about the unease that had been gnawing at me. Jeffrey’s hand found its way to my neck, his thumb stroking my pulse point as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”
Mike stepped closer, his hands more tentative now, as if he could sense my hesitation. Jeffrey’s grip on me tightened, a silent reassurance that he was here, that he was in control. And then Mike’s hands were on me, too, his calloused fingers grazing my skin. It was overwhelming, the sensation of two sets of hands on my body, two mouths kissing me, two pairs of eyes watching me so intently.
Jeffrey guided us to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He laid me down, his eyes never leaving mine, as Mike settled beside us. The mattress dipped with his weight, and I felt a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. Jeffrey leaned over, kissing me deeply, his tongue dancing with mine as Mike’s hands began to roam again. This time, I didn’t pull away. Instead, I focused on Jeffrey, letting his love and desire for me drown out the unsettling thoughts.
Jeffrey’s hand slid down my body, his fingers deft and familiar as they found my center. I gasped into his mouth as he began to stroke me, building a rhythm that had me arching into his touch. Mike’s hands were there too, exploring my curves, his breath hot on my neck. I could feel Jeffrey’s tension, his need to claim me, to make this moment about us, not just a fleeting fantasy. And as his fingers worked their magic, I felt myself giving in, my body responding to the dual attention.
Mike’s touch grew bolder, his hands more insistent, and Jeffrey’s eyes flashed with something akin to possessiveness. He reached over, placing his hand over Mike’s, guiding him to touch me in a way that made me moan. Jeffrey broke our kiss, his gaze intense as he whispered, “Look at me, Grace.”
I did, my eyes locked on his as Mike’s hand moved under Jeffrey’s guidance. The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing, the rustle of the sheets, and the flicker of the candles casting shadows that danced across our bodies. Jeffrey leaned back, taking in the sight of Mike touching me, his expression a heady mix of arousal and challenge.
Mike’s eyes were hooded, his breathing labored as he stared at Jeffrey. “Fuck, she’s so hot,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. Jeffrey’s grip on my hips tightened, a silent claim.
“I know,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “And she’s all mine.”
Jeffrey’s words sent a thrill through me, a strange mix of desire and fear. This was it, the moment of truth. I felt Mike’s hand move away, and Jeffrey leaned in to kiss me again, his tongue claiming my mouth as if to reinforce his point. I melted into him, the scent of his cologne and the taste of whiskey on his breath grounding me as the world around us spun into a whirlwind of sensation.
As Mike retreated to the bathroom to retrieve the condom, Jeffrey gently pushed me onto my hands and knees, his strong hands on my hips, guiding me into position. The coolness of the sheets against my bare skin was a stark contrast to the heat building inside me. Jeffrey’s fingers continued their sweet torment, and I couldn’t help but arch my back, silently begging for more. His touch was like a brand, searing into my very soul, and in that moment, I knew that no matter what happened, I belonged to him.
But when Mike returned, Jeffrey’s hand stilled, and he looked at me, his eyes searching. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky.
I nodded, my breath coming in ragged gasps. “I trust you.”
Jeffrey’s eyes searched mine, and then, with a feral growl, he slid into me from behind bareback. The sensation was intense, raw, and overwhelming, his bare skin against mine sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I gripped the sheets, my eyes squeezed shut, as he began to move, his rhythm punctuated by the slap of our flesh meeting. It was a claim, a declaration of his dominance, and I felt a strange thrill at the thought of Mike watching us, his own desire evident in the heavy silence that filled the room.
Mike approached the bed, his cock in his hand, and I felt a wave of nausea and excitement. Jeffrey’s hand reached around, his fingers finding my clit, and the sensation was so intense that it pushed the anxiety aside. Mike’s hand hovered over my face, and then, without asking, he guided his cock to my mouth. The taste was foreign, a bit salty and faintly musky, and I had to fight the urge to gag. Jeffrey’s grip on my hips tightened, his thrusts growing more urgent, and I focused on his touch, the way his body moved with mine.
Mike’s hands tangled in my hair, and he began to fuck my mouth with the same enthusiasm Jeffrey did my pussy. Jeffrey’s strokes grew rougher, his breath coming in harsh pants as he watched his best friend use me. The feeling of being filled, claimed by both of them, was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I could feel Jeffrey’s desire for me, his need to mark me as his own, and it was intoxicating.
My eyes watered as Mike’s grip tightened, his hips bucking as he pushed deeper. Jeffrey’s hand reached around, his thumb pressing into my clit with unerring precision, and I moaned around Mike’s cock. The sound seemed to spur Jeffrey on, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more primal. The room was a cacophony of our muffled cries and the wet sounds of our bodies colliding.
Mike’s hand left my hair, and I took the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Jeffrey didn’t miss a beat, his hand moving to stroke my back, soothing me as Mike positioned himself between my legs. “Switch,” Jeffrey murmured, his voice thick with need. He pulled out, and for a moment, I felt empty, bereft of his warmth. But then Mike was there, his condom-covered cock nudging at my entrance.
Jeffrey leaned over, his chest brushing against my back as he whispered, “Open your eyes, Grace. Watch me.”
I did, my eyes locking onto his as Mike’s cock pushed into me, stretching me open. Jeffrey’s cock was right there, his tip glistening with precum, and I didn’t hesitate to take him in my mouth. The taste of him was familiar, comforting amidst the chaos. His eyes rolled back in his head, his moan echoing through the room as Mike began to thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, and I felt like I was being split in two, my body no longer my own.
Jeffrey’s hand found my hair, his grip firm as he guided my movements, setting a pace that matched Mike’s rhythm. I could feel the tension in Jeffrey’s body, his need to take over, to claim me fully. Mike’s hands were on my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples, and I moaned around Jeffrey’s cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him. His hand tightened in my hair, pulling me closer, and I knew he was close.
And then, with a jolt that sent a cold spike of fear through me, I felt the condom break. Mike’s eyes widened, and he stilled, his body going rigid. Jeffrey’s thrusts faltered, and his eyes met mine, a question in his gaze. The room was silent, save for our ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of my heart. For a moment, we were all frozen, the weight of what had just happened heavy in the air.
“Shit,” Mike murmured, his voice strangled.
But before he could pull out, I pushed back against him, my eyes never leaving Jeffrey’s. Something inside me had snapped, a wild, primal instinct taking over. I didn’t want this to end, not like this. Not with fear and regret.
Jeffrey’s eyes searched mine, confusion and concern briefly clouding the desire. “Grace?” he asked, his voice strained.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The condom breaking was a nightmare, but the heat between us was undeniable. I didn’t want to shatter the moment, not when Jeffrey was so close to his climax. I pushed the fear aside, focusing on the here and now. Mike looked at Jeffrey, his eyes wide with panic, but Jeffrey was lost in his own world, his hand on my shoulder, urging me to continue.
With a deep breath, Mike resumed his thrusts, his bare cock sliding in and out of me, the sensation now even more intense without the barrier. Jeffrey’s hand in my hair tightened, his hips bucking as he fucked my mouth in time with Mike’s rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of our muffled grunts and gasps, the mattress squeaking beneath us. I could feel Jeffrey’s orgasm building, his cock swelling in my mouth, and I knew that if I didn’t come soon, I’d be lost in the chaos of the moment.
I reached down, my hand slipping between my legs to rub my clit, desperately trying to find my own release. Mike’s eyes locked onto my hand, his breathing growing more ragged as he watched me pleasure myself. Jeffrey’s strokes grew erratic, his breath coming in short bursts, and I knew he was close. The pressure inside me grew, a coil tightening with every stroke of Mike’s cock.
Looking into Jeffrey’s eyes, I felt a strange thrill knowing he was unaware of the broken condom, feeling Mike’s bare skin against my own. The danger, the risk, it all just added to the intensity of the moment. I didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to ruin this for him. Instead, I pushed myself closer to the edge, my body moving with the two of them, a dance of desire and passion.
As Mike’s strokes grew more frantic, Jeffrey’s hips thrust into my face with wild abandon. His eyes rolled back, and with a guttural moan, he came, filling my mouth with his warmth. I swallowed reflexively, the taste of him strong and potent, a silent promise of what was to come. The intimacy of the act, the way he claimed me even as I was being used by another man, it was intoxicating.
Jeffrey pulled out, his cock glistening in the candlelight, and stumbled to the bedside table, his legs unsteady. “Water,” he panted, his hand shaking as he picked up the glass. “I need water.”
Mike didn’t miss a beat, his hips still driving into me with a fervor that had my nails digging into the mattress. I watched Jeffrey’s retreating back, his muscles rippling with each step, as he made his way to the kitchen. The room felt eerily quiet without Jeffrey’s whispers, the only sounds now the slap of Mike’s skin against mine and his heavy breaths.
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the sudden sense of wrongness that filled me. The condom was broken, and we were playing with fire. Eager to get it over with, I pulled off Mike’s cock and laid on my back, spreading my legs wide. The coolness of the air hit my exposed skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Mike’s eyes never left me, his pupils dilated with lust as he took in the sight of me, vulnerable and open.
He leaned over, his breath hot against my skin as he whispered, “What do we do about the condom?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with the realization of what had just happened. I reached over, my hand trembling slightly, and wrapped my fingers around his cock. The latex was torn, a jagged piece sticking to his shaft. With a gentle tug, I pulled it off, the room seeming to hold its breath as the reality of our situation sank in. Mike’s eyes never left mine, a mix of lust and fear flickering in their depths. I tossed the broken condom aside, not wanting to look at it, not wanting to acknowledge the potential consequences of our recklessness.
Jeffrey’s footsteps echoed in the kitchen, the sound of him searching for a glass of water a stark reminder of his blissful ignorance. “Just finish,” I whispered to Mike, my voice strained. “Make it quick.”
Mike’s bare cock slid into me, the sensation of his skin on mine sending a jolt of adrenaline through my body. I gripped the sheets, bracing myself for the final act of this twisted play. His eyes searched my face, looking for any sign of regret, but all he found was a steely determination to see this through. I bit my lip, the pain grounding me as he pushed deeper, filling me completely. The lack of a condom made every sensation more intense, more real.
With Jeffrey out of the room, the power dynamics shifted, and Mike took the lead. His strokes were deep and forceful, his eyes never leaving my face. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across his features, making him look almost sinister. Yet, I couldn’t tear my gaze away, the intensity of his focus driving me closer to the edge. I felt like a ragdoll, used by two men for their own pleasure, but the thrill of it was undeniable.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” Mike groaned, his voice low and guttural. His eyes held a desperate hunger that sent a shiver down my spine. His words were like a brand, marking me, claiming me, and even though Jeffrey was the one who’d brought him here, the raw honesty in his voice was impossible to ignore.
With a growl of my own, I wrapped my legs around Mike’s waist, pulling him closer, urging him to take me with the same intensity that Jeffrey had moments ago. I dug my nails into his back, leaving half-moons in his skin as I whispered, “Then do it. Fuck me like you’ve always wanted to.” The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, but the thrill of the forbidden was too potent to resist.
Mike’s pace quickened, his hips pistoning into me as he chased his climax. I matched his rhythm, tightening my pussy around him, creating a vice-like grip that had him groaning with pleasure. My body was a battleground of sensations, the mix of fear and excitement creating a cocktail of desire that threatened to overwhelm me. The sound of Jeffrey’s footsteps grew louder, and the urgency in the room spiked.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Mike panted, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel him getting closer, his strokes growing more erratic. The thought of Jeffrey walking in on us, of him seeing Mike’s bare cock inside me, it was a thrill that I hadn’t anticipated. I bit down harder on my lip, the pain mixing with the pleasure, pushing me closer to the edge.
My muscles clenched around Mike, squeezing him in a silent plea to come before Jeffrey returned. The sound of the water running in the kitchen grew louder, and I knew we were running out of time. The risk, the danger, it was all too much to resist. I arched my back, my breasts bouncing with each of Mike’s thrusts, silently urging him to give me the release I craved.
Mike’s breath grew hot against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. “I’m gonna cum,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of excitement and fear. I didn’t want Jeffrey to hear, didn’t want him to know what we’d done. The thought of his reaction was almost as terrifying as the realization that Mike’s cum would be inside me, a betrayal that could never be taken back.
“Inside me,” I whispered back, my voice hoarse with need. It was a dangerous game, but I was too far gone to care. Mike’s eyes widened with surprise, then filled with a dark hunger as he understood my meaning. He slammed into me one last time, his body tensing, and with a muffled roar, he released himself, filling me up with his hot seed. The sensation was intense, a blend of pleasure and trepidation that had my body shaking.
As Mike’s orgasm subsided, he collapsed onto me, his breath ragged in my ear. The weight of his body was a stark contrast to Jeffrey’s gentle touch, and I felt a pang of guilt. But it was too late for regrets now. Jeffrey’s footsteps grew closer, the sound of the running water cutting off abruptly. I knew he’d be back any second, and the panic began to set in.
With a sudden jolt, I pushed Mike off and scrambled to my feet, the sticky warmth of his cum slipping out of me as I moved. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice still thick with lust.
“Jeffrey,” I gasped, my heart racing. “He’s coming back.”
Mike rolled off the bed, his eyes widening as he realized the gravity of the situation. He stumbled, tucking himself away, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disgust at the sight of his naked body. I rushed to the bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the heat of the room. The mirror reflected a flushed, wild-eyed stranger, and I took a moment to compose myself. The taste of Jeffrey lingered on my tongue, a sweet lie to the bitter truth of what had just occurred.
With trembling hands, I cleaned up, trying to erase the evidence of Mike’s unprotected release. The condom lay on the floor, a sad little twist of latex, a silent testament to our recklessness. I flushed it away, watching it swirl down the drain with a sense of finality. My heart raced as I cleaned up, the water cold against my skin doing little to soothe the turmoil inside me. I took a deep breath, the scent of sex and candle wax clinging to me like a second skin.
When I returned to the bedroom, Jeffrey was sitting on the edge of the bed, his glass of water forgotten on the nightstand. His eyes searched my face, and for a brief moment, I thought he knew. But then he smiled, his gaze warm and loving, and the knot in my stomach tightened.
“How was it?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.
I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the tornado of emotions inside me. “Intense,” I murmured, not meeting his gaze.
Jeffrey’s smile grew, his eyes filled with pride. “Good intense or bad intense?”
“Good,” I lied, forcing a smile. The word felt thick on my tongue, coated with the bitter taste of deceit. I slid onto the bed, my legs shaking as I sat beside him. “It was… overwhelming.”