The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes by Linda Alvarez Read Free Book Online Page A

magnanimously saying, “Oh, no, you go ahead,” when it was time to switch. I knew this might leave me with leftovers – an exhausted boy who only wanted to cuddle – but it seemed as though he knew how to pace himself. So for most of the afternoon I sat at the head of the bed watching, studying Mark with each of them. I saw the sweat and the eye contact, the murmured getting-to-know-you that’s so inexorable and intimate when it happens when you’re already fucking. Don’t get me wrong, I know plenty of fucks fly by with hardly any intimacy at all, but if you’ve never experienced the kind where you’ve barely said six words before your bodies meet, yet when you’re done you feel like you know the person deeply – well, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
    I know what you’re wondering: If this is a bisexual story, why didn’t all the women get into a big pile? Maybe we weren’t very attracted to each other. More likely, we were all a little mesmerized by this force of nature. Boys like this don’t come down the pike every day.
    When it was my turn, sure enough, Mark wrapped me up in a cloud of sweet, slow fuck. Jeez, he must have been studying tantra. Say all you want about casual sex, but I can tell you, it’s completely possible to have a no-name fuck and get the message that you are precious, absolutely precious. Mark and I beamed that to each other as our hips escalated their speed. It was the only message to send, each of us a young seeker of exotic knowledge and true nirvana in the wild jungles of sex.
    Of course my first thought (well, OK, my third or fourth thought) was that I wanted to take him home to Boyfriend.
    The night Boyfriend said, “Lucky Pierrre is the one in the middle,” Mark was in me just as deep as he’d been that first day, a slow pump that put me in such a fuck-haze that Boyfriend’s presence was almost irrelevant. This is why people are scared to have threesomes: if two of them feel like this, what will the leftover person do? In real life, of course, a scene like this could turn into a jealous fit, even escalate into a divorce. But life with Boyfriend was like real life, only better: if his girlfriend was busy falling in love with the trick, no problem! He’d find something to keep himself amused. When you’re fucking – especially when you’re fucking more than one person at a time – there are always plenty of things to do. He had already slid his fingers into my cunt, massaging my wet velvet walls and Mark’s cock simultaneously – this made everyone happy, including Boyfriend, because Mark really had the cock of an angel, big but not too, shaped like cocks were meant to be. And Boyfriend had had his hands on a lot of cocks – several thousand at least – which meant that he had hands that could probably have touched any cock in the world and made it happy, hence his remarkable rate of success with straight men. When your cock is in such hands, why fuck it up by getting all homophobic?
    Boyfriend was, however, ready to up the ante. In fact, I think Boyfriend’s middle name was “Up the Ante”, or maybe just “Up the Ass”, because that’s where he liked to go, and that’s where he usually wound up, even with men who had never before thought that they might have an asshole. As Mark fucked me, he made a moving target, but to an old pro like Boyfriend that didn’t matter. I heard condom noises from miles away. I had already come several million times, it seemed, and neither Mark nor I focused much away from the slow dance that engaged our cunt and cock.
    Until I felt a steady increase in the weight on me, heard Mark moan – a good moan, not a bad one, a deep Ohhh of a let-your-breath-out-and-the-cock-come-in moan – as Boyfriend’s cock met Mark’s back thrust and rode forwards along with us, burrowing into Mark’s asshole just as slowly as Mark’s cock sank into me. A perfectly timed, come-along-for-the-ride kind of move, Boyfriend’s hips