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Short Story
Birthday Party
Writer Sara Hart
  • G: General Audiences
  • PG: Parental Guidance Suggested
  • PG-13: Parents Strongly Cautioned
  • R: Restricted
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Birthday Party
Birthday Party

When he calls me, he tells me he has a surprise for me, wants me to come over right away, tells me to wear something sexy for him. So I put on the thigh-high stockings he tends to remove with his teeth, put a low cut white dress over it; clings to my curves, so thin and so snug you can see my aerolas whispering through the fabric where my breasts hang heavy, unsupported as they are with no bra.

I stand for a moment in front of my full-length mirror, smiling at the dark cloud of my pubic hair ever so slightly visible through the fabric; a dress I’d never wear out into the world without underwear underneath, comfortable only because I know no one will see me like this but him.

When I walk in, I’m shocked to see his friend Val there; a tall man, classically handsome – usually not my type, but his long, lean body has always appealed to me, perfectly muscled the way a runner’s is, fitting given that he ran track competitively all through high school and college, the gentle way about him making him more attractive to me every time I see him.

His eyes widen when he catches sight of me, a sharp intake of breath accompanying it.

“Um…” I start, grabbing Henry by the arm, tugging him in front of me to hide my body from his friend. “What the fuck is going on? I thought…”

“I told you, I have a surprise for you.”

I blink up at him, confused, uncomfortable.

“Uh, okay. Well, mission accomplished: I’m surprised.  Now what?”

“It’s Val’s birthday. The big four-oh. He’s terribly down about it. Keeps going on about how much Jesus Christ accomplished by the time he was thirty-three. It’s all quite dire.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be the son of God, I guess,” I say blithely, running a self-conscious hand down my stomach, lingering at my cunt before falling to my side.

He grins at me, pulls me into a lascivious hug, one hand on my ass; a flagrant display that turns me on even as it makes me incredibly uneasy.

“Henry, stop,” I start, but then he smothers my protestations with his mouth on mine, his tongue and his hands exploratory, makes me feel like he’s fucking me already, intimate and overtly sexual as it is.

He subtly starts taking small steps backward, pulling me along without my even noticing it until we’re just a few feet away from Val, still sitting on the couch, looking awkward with a hand on each knee like he’s about to stand up, though he makes no move to do so.

When Henry stops kissing me, he pushes me away gently so he can survey my body in my dress, a new one he hasn’t seen before. He makes a low mmm sound, reaches out to run the backs of his fingers over my right nipple – the more sensitive of the two, – which immediately perks up, reaching for his touch.

“Seriously, what is this, what are you doing, showing off? You could at least ask first.”

“Turn for me, let me see your ass,” he says by way of response.

“I’m not doing a goddamn thing until you tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing,” I snap, crossing my arms under my breasts, creating a shelf for them, deepening my cleavage and causing them to jiggle in a way that transfixes him momentarily.

He smiles knowingly, says, “I should’ve figured you’d be like this,” his tone convivial, unfazed.

“Should I uh… go?” Val asks, his unease clear in his voice, though Henry is standing between us and I can’t see his face.

“Go?” Henry asks, as if it were a preposterous idea. “Why on Earth would you want to do that? The party hasn’t even started yet.”

“’Party?’ What ‘party’?” I demand, though I’m not so stupid as to not get where this is headed, more or less; I’m just so shocked at his gall that I can’t process it.

He reaches for me, slips his arms around my waist, kisses my neck, always goes for my neck when he’s trying to talk me into something, knowing how much I love it, crave it, can’t get enough of his holy mouth against my ever-quickening pulse.

“I just thought I might give my old friend Val a really nice present for once. He’s always done so much for me, after all.”

“So, what, I’m a fuckin party favor? That’s just lovely.”

“No, no, no. Party favors are meaningless little trinkets. I’m talking about a gift. Something extraordinary, rare. Precious.”

He darts his tongue behind my ear, an erogenous zone he discovered early on, makes me feel pinched between the legs when he hits it just right, which he always does, except when he’s trying not to.

“I want to give him something he’ll remember for the rest of his life. The kind of gift you recall fondly on your deathbed,” he murmurs into my ear.

“You really think I’m that easy? Plump up my ego a bit and there I am, offering myself up like a goddamn Christmas ham? That’s fucking insulting, Henry, it really is.”

“Shh,” he murmurs as if he were soothing a spooked horse, his arms still wrapped around me, pulling away from my neck now to look me in the eyes, so sincere it takes me by surprise. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Oh? What’s it like then?”

He thumbs my bottom lip like I like, dips the tip of it inside, all the while looking at me with that lovesick look he gets that always sets me off-kilter.

“I know you like him. I know he likes you. And don’t forget, I also know the things you like to think about when you’re alone in bed at night with your hands between your legs. It’s a present for you too, Mara. And you know how much you love to be surprised.”

I blush, can’t look at him, my eyes coming to rest instead on the jut of his bottom lip – a dusty, rosy color, his mouth wide, has a sort of Cheshire quality when he grins.

He chucks me under the chin, says, “Look at me.”

I take a long moment to comply, an enormous shyness to my gaze when it meets his.

“This is a bad idea,” I murmur. “You don’t know what could happen, how it might make you feel. Do you really want to risk that just for one night? Just for one… party?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I hadn’t thought it through. I’m a terribly generous man, don’t you know. And Val is having a hell of a go at it, this life business. Chloe left him – for that shit boss of hers no less, – just two days before his birthday. I want to cheer him up, show him a good time. Share the bounty that’s been bestowed upon me, utterly undeserved. He got me through a breakup that nearly killed me, and put me up for a month when I had nowhere to live. He’s a wonderful guy, you know that. Come on, it’ll be fun.

“And anyway,” he adds after a moment’s pause, “he’s surely got that runner’s stamina still, haven’t you?” he asks, turning to look over his shoulder at Val, though he barrels on before he has a chance to speak, “And I’ve heard more than one girlfriend go on at length about his prowess. It’ll be wonderful fun for all involved, I’m sure of it.”

“Could you uh… maybe not? Do that?” Val asks wearily. “I’m already nervous as hell and seriously rethinking this whole thing, I don’t need you overselling me on top of it. I’ve already failed to satisfy one woman this week, I’d rather not make it two.”

“The hell you did! Chloe’d fuck a Nazi with a flesh-eating virus if he flashed a big enough wad of cash at her and you know it. That shit has nothing to do with you, she’s trash.”

“Yeah, well…” he sighs, unconvinced as he flops back on the couch, his ennui oozing out onto its velvet.

“See what I mean?” Henry asks, jovial as he turns his attention to me, bright-eyed, undeterred. “He’s miserable. His very manhood is at stake.”

I laugh lightly, raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Oh, it is,” he purrs, pulling me close, his hand moving slow over my ass, cupping, stroking, squeezing. “It really is.”

I sigh a dramatic, beleaguered sigh, push him out of the way so I can get a good look at Val, an appraisal of his torpor, his pain.

“What say you?” I ask, planting a hand on each hip. “Is it really so dire as all that?”

“My need to get laid? No, I guess not. The rest of it though? Yeah. Yeah it is. In fact it’s so goddamn dire, I don’t know if I even want to get laid. This was all him, I had nothing to do with it. I just wanted to go home and get drunk and see if I can’t choke on my own vomit rather than have to wake up and do this shit all over again for one more fuckin day.”

I look at Henry, who smiles, says, “See what I mean?”

“I don’t do emotionless porno fucking, don’t forget. And if he’s sad as all that, I’m gonna get doubly emotionally invested in his… wellbeing. You should really just get him a hooker if you want to perk him up like that. I’m far too complicated for this.”

“No, you’re not. You’re exactly what he needs, in fact. Someone to care and touch him gently, even when things get porny. You’ll actually make him feel better in a way that’ll last. Fucking a hooker would just make him all the more miserable when it was over. Hell, it probably wouldn’t even take that long – I wouldn’t put it past him to stop in the middle of it all to off himself at this point.

“But you?” he asks, wrapping me up in his arms again, his mouth on my neck, “You could actually relieve his suffering. You’re healing in bed, you know that? I recharge off of you so I can face the world again each day. He needs that. And you want to, I can tell. You’d’ve left already if you didn’t want to do it. At the very least you’re intrigued,” he whispers this last into my ear, his hot breath tickling me there, makes the hairs on my arms stand up.

I push him away and to the side so I can study Val again, who isn’t even looking at us, instead has his head thrown back, resting on the couch as he stares blankly at the ceiling. It takes him a moment to notice the silence and feel my eyes on him, lifting his head wearily when he does.

“You don’t have to do this, really,” he says sadly.

“I know I don’t have to do it,” I answer, taking a step forward so I’m standing right in front of him, my knee brushing his.

The contact, bare and chaste though it is, sets off a spark in me and I find myself hitching my dress up so I can straddle him. He looks so shocked that I laugh as I settle onto him and put my arms around his shoulders, spreading my legs a little wider to press my crotch closer to his.

“Such a sad boy,” I say softly, tracing the furry line of his eyebrow, black as the thick and inky hair on his head.

“I’m beyond sad, I’m fucking broken,” he replies flatly, his hands limp at his sides as his gaze falls on my lips so he doesn’t have to look me in the eyes.

“Oh, come now,” I say, running a hand through his hair, “It can’t be bad as all that.”

“Yeah, it can. It really can.”

“Well… broken things can be put back together, you know. Broken things can heal.”

He looks into my eyes then, his glassy with tears as I take his head in my hands and kiss him gently – a totally unplanned gesture, takes us both by surprise. I tease the seam of his lips with my tongue but don’t slip it inside, instead choosing to redirect and pepper his entire face with soft, soft kisses, ending with a single one on each closed eye.

When I pull away to look at him, he takes a moment to open them, seeming to want to stay submerged rather than have to come back to the world again, the bottomless sadness in his eyes piercing me like the sharp, sharp tip of a brand new knife.

“Such a sweet thing,” I say, stroking his face lovingly. “Far as I can tell anyway. It hurts my heart to see you so sad.”

“Yeah, well…” he sighs, mantra of the existentially depleted.

I turn to look over my shoulder at Henry, certain that sweet kisses and intimate tenderness is not what he had in mind, but he just smiles then sits down beside us, leaving a few feet in between as he turns to face me.

“Are you sure this isn’t a terrible, terrible idea?” I ask, idly running a hand through Val’s hair without even realizing it.

“Of course. I mean, I’m a lot more interested in what comes next, but I’m not bothered if that’s what you’re asking. I told you, I want to give him something real, something that’ll actually help.”

“Oh, so I’m a thing, am I?” I ask, playful.

“You, my love, are my favorite thing. My favorite… toy.”

The sexual hunger in me, subdued by Val’s misery, teases its head out of its hole, dips its finger between my legs to stroke me lightly. I turn to face him again. “So. Tell me something. What would you like to do to me?”

“I uh… I don’t… I don’t know.”

I laugh a flirtatious laugh, give him a playful shove and say, “Oh, please. I’m sure you have plenty of ideas rattling around in that somber head of yours. Don’t be shy.”

“But I am. I am shy. I’ve always been shy. And this is not exactly something I know how to navigate.”

“Hm,” I say thoughtfully, steady running a hand through his hair. “Well. How about this… Would you like to touch me? Let’s start there.”

“Can I?” he asks, his temerity moving me deeply.

“Of course, silly. I’d like it actually. Quite a lot.”


“Mhm,” I murmur, taking his hands in mine to lay them on my breasts. “I long constantly to be touched.”

Henry chuckles softly and it takes a moment, but soon Val begins to cup them, stroking my nipples with the pads of his thumbs, staring at them intently as they stiffen beneath his touch. I moan softly and he glances up at me, looks unsure even so.

“That feels nice,” I say, pushing in closer to feel him with my cunt.

“Does it really?”

I laugh softly, ask, “Of course, can’t you tell?”

He keeps thumbing my nipples, somehow both halfhearted and enraptured at the same time.

“Actually, you know what?” I start, climbing off of him, “I think I’m gonna –”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“What?” I ask, confused, as I toss a pillow down between his legs and kneel there, the look of bafflement on his face making me laugh again. “What on Earth are you sorry for?”

“I thought I… Um. I don’t know…” he fumbles as I stroke his thighs, leaning down to kiss first one then the other through his jeans, halfway up.

“I was just going to say that I think I might try a different tack with you, that’s all,” I say. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“I…” at this he looks over at Henry, who grins at him, claps him goodnaturedly on the shoulder and says, “She gives incredible blowjobs, I promise you. You gotta try one,” he adds, sounds like he’s talking about a particularly good desert at a restaurant he’s recommending, makes me laugh.

“All you have to do is relax,” I say, coaxing, stroking his thighs, the roughness of the denim making my palms warm from friction.

“I’ve never done anything like this before…”

“What, get a blowjob?” I ask, confused.

“No, no I mean this,” he says, wagging a finger back and forth between himself and Henry.

“That’s okay, neither have I. I’m sure he has, whore that he is,” I say, gesturing at Henry with a jerk of my head, “but I haven’t. So it’s just as new to me as it is to you, I promise.”

He reaches out haltingly, runs his fingers through my hair, surprises me by saying so sadly, “I’ve thought about you like this so many times…”

“Me?” I ask, incredulous, never able to understand what anyone sees in me. “What would you want with me?”

He doesn’t answer, instead asks, “Are you really sure you want to do this? I feel like I’m using you.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to be here, Val.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I reach for the button of his jeans, pausing there to wait for him to rearrange himself, his eyes on my hands as I reach into his underwear, pull it out, surprised at both the size of it and that he’s not hard at all.

“I’m a grower,” he says hastily and I smile, reply, “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

“And I’m nervous. And depressed. And –”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. Just relax.”

I start to lean down to take it in my mouth, then change my mind, ask, “Can you take these jeans off? The underwear too, actually. They’re kinda in my way.”

“Clothes really slow her down,” Henry interjects, clearly making Val all the more uncomfortable.

“Would you stop?” I ask, playful yet serious. “Your color commentary is not helping him, you know.”

Henry just smiles and shrugs as Val lifts his hips up, works his jeans and his underwear down to his knees. I take off his shoes then pull them the rest of the way off, toss them aside, ask him to take his shirt off as well. Once he does, I run my hands up his bare thighs, delighting in the feel of the fur of him, leaning down to kiss my way up, taking my time.

I nuzzle my nose against his thigh, make a soft mmm sound, say, “You smell so good. Do you taste as good as you smell?”

“Probably not,” he answers as I kiss his thigh again, a long lingering one this time.

“Well,” I say, taking his cock in my hand now, making him jump in surprise, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Before he can respond, I take it into my mouth, such a rare sensation to have a flaccid cock there, makes me extra careful for fear of hurting him. Such a delicate thing, after all, a cock, just hanging there all soft and vulnerable. Always makes me feel so in control to have one in my mouth, infuses me with such a sense of power even when choking me breathless.

“Oh my God,” he whispers, his hand falling gently on the crown of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he stiffens and grows, though not very much, not yet.

I hold it in my hand as I look up at him, ask sexily, “Do you like that?”

“Very much,” he says, an abundant sincerity in his voice, his eyes.

“Mm,” I murmur, “Good.”

When I take him in my mouth again, he grows larger, sliding down my throat, a groan coming up from deep inside him when it does. I massage his balls as I work my head up and down, stopping after a minute or so to admire it; the jut of vein, the slight upward curve, the head faintly purple and much darker than the rest of his golden browns, tumescence straining the skin.

I gaze up at him as I shower it with kisses, licking it from base to tip then swirling my tongue madly around the head as I grip him in my fist, working my hand up and down in short, slow strokes as I fondle his balls with the other.

“Oh my God,” he says again, all the more reverent this time, steady stroking my hair, the way he does it combined with the look in his eyes making me nervous, worried now that this is just going to make him all the more miserable when it’s over.

But I’m already in the thick of it and don’t want to stop, so I just give him Jessica Rabbit eyes and ask, “Would you like to fuck me now? Or would you rather I do this?”

“I…” he starts, then looks at Henry, who laughs and says, “How the hell should I know what you want?”

“I um…” he begins again, looking at me now. “What do you want?”

“Oh, there’s plenty of time for what I want,” I say; coy, blasé. “This is about you. What you want. Birthday boy,” I add, flirty.

“I want to do what you want to do.”

I laugh, sigh, give Henry a ‘Can you believe this guy?’ look before returning my attention to Val.

“Well then, I want to taste you,” I say just before I take him in my mouth again, start deep-throating him at a quick clip, his hand turning to a fist in my hair, though he neither pushes nor pulls even still.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps not long after, “Oh my God. I’m gonna come.”

“Go ahead,” I say breathlessly as I switch it up, start stroking the shaft while I suck the head, letting his come overflow my mouth when it spurts up into it as he moans deeply, lapping it up when it drips down the length of it, studying his face, eyefucking him when his open sleepily to look at me.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, falling back against the couch, spasming beneath me when I cover his softening cock with kisses, saying, “You do, you know. Taste good. Very.”

He lies back, breathing quick, shallow breaths, meeting my eyes for a moment as Henry reaches for me, says, “Come here, baby,” hastily taking his clothes off as I stand.

I hitch my dress up to my hips and climb on top of him where he guides me immediately down on to his hard cock, making me gasp. I fuck him like dancing, my hips practically vibrating as he takes hold of my chin, staring into me, says, “Look at him, think about what you’re doing. Getting fucked right in front of him,” turning my head in Val’s direction as he does.

My eyes connect with Val’s, who is watching surreptitiously, but he immediately looks away. I reach out to stroke his face with the backs of my fingers, easily able to reach him, close as we are. He looks at me again, tentative as Henry reaches between us, works his hand under my dress and starts rubbing my clit with his thumb as he finds my rhythm, thrusting up into me with perfect timing.

I come quickly, grabbing Val by the arm when I do, my fingers turning to claws, gasping and moaning, playing it up for him, only able to meet his eyes for a moment before closing mine, getting lost in it, letting my forehead fall against Henry’s shoulder as I continue rolling my hips into his.

“I want you to taste me too,” he murmurs, grabbing my ass with both hands.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, giving him a flirty look.

“Oh yes. I do.”

I smile as I climb off of him to kneel between his legs, thrilling at the way it glistens, tasting myself as I lick the shaft, the head, swirling my tongue around and around before I take it all the way in. I immediately begin to deep-throat him, reaching out to stroke Val’s thigh as I do, my hand climbing up and up, though I don’t touch him there, rather redirecting, running the backs of my fingers over his soft skin.

Henry moans, says, “I want you to touch yourself, come when I come.”

I immediately work my hand up under my dress, use the other to grip him in my fist as I suck the head, glancing up at him before looking away to lock eyes with Val, who is watching with great fascination, though still so bashful that he initially breaks eye contact for a few seconds before returning his gaze to mine.

I can feel a strong orgasm coming on quickly, stop sucking him long enough to beg, “I need you to come for me now, Henry, please, I can’t wait.” His hand, resting on the top of my head, turns to a fist as he moans again, nods.

I look back at Val as come fills my mouth, convulsing when I come as well, gasping and calling out for God as I swallow him, a flavor I crave so desperately that he’ll choose sometimes to come down my throat just to punish me when he feels I’ve transgressed and therefore don’t deserve to taste him.

Overcome, I let my head fall, forehead pressing to Henry’s thigh, moistening it with my sweat as I pant, breathless. A few moments pass in silence, Henry absentmindedly stroking my hair, an unexpected peace and calm crackling the air.

“Come here,” he says after a while.


I lift my head to look at him and he smiles at me, that single too-sharp canine of his making me long for its sharpness marking my soft flesh.

“Come here, sit on my lap, I want to propose something.”

I smile back at him, bite my bottom lip. When I sit down on his lap, he immediately dips his head to bite my breast lightly, then works it out of my dress so he can suck my nipple, teasing it with his teeth. I squirm a little, look over at Val.

“Hi,” I say, reaching out to pet his upper arm with the tips of my fingers.


“How ya doin? You okay?”

He shrugs, looks down at his hands resting awkwardly in his lap.

“So,” I start, turning my attention back to Henry, “what is this proposal of which you speak?”

“Ah, yes. That. Well, I was thinking about a little fantasy of yours that you told me about a while back and I’m wondering if you’d like to make it a reality.”



“And what fantasy might that be?”

He pinches my nipple, makes me squirm again.

“Two guys at once.”

All the hairs stand up on my arms when he says it, adrenaline racing through me as I look down at my fingers playing against his.

“Oh. That.”

“Yes. That.”

I tuck my breast back into my dress, feeling suddenly exposed despite being the only one among us wearing anything at all. I watch my hand as I do, pretending an enormous fascination, acting as though the task of rearranging my dress requires my complete, undivided attention.

He presses his finger beneath my chin, turns my head, but I focus my gaze on his lips.

“Look at me, Mar.”

I force myself to meet his eyes, suddenly shy, able to feel the bloodrush in my cheeks from my deepening blush blooming there.

“I know you want to, why don’t you just say so? Why so timid all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he says, making me laugh at his tone, says it just like he did when he was trying to get me to go with him on a rollercoaster a few months back.

I sigh, look at Val, ask, “What do you think?”

He looks at my lips then my breasts, won’t meet my eyes with his.


I laugh again.

“’Um?’ That’s it, just ‘um?’”

“Do you um,” he starts, glancing up into my eyes for a moment before looking away again. “Do you… want to?”

I put my arm around Henry’s shoulders, lean in to kiss his forehead as he strokes my thigh through my dress.

“I can’t believe you sprung this shit on me like this, you bastard,” I say playfully.

He laughs, kisses my collarbone then lifts his head to whisper, “You love it,” into my neck.

My cheeks faintly pulse, embarrasses me so much how effortlessly he can read me, the way he seems to just know what I want and how to give it to me before I even know myself.

I squirm a little, my wetness seeping out of me, throbbing now, an ache that practically blurs my vision.

“Okay,” I say, barely audible.

“What was that, puppy? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh, fuck you,” I answer, shoving him as I do.

“You ought to know the rules by now: You have to speak up, tell me what you want. It’s no fun if you don’t.”

I give him a dirty look but he just laughs.

“I said ‘okay,’ asshole.”

“No, no, no, I want to hear the words. I want you to tell me what you want.”

I cover my face with my hand, feeling Val’s eyes on me, all the more uncomfortable for having someone here to witness the control he has over me, my willingness, my eagerness, to comply.

“Aw, she’s so shy,” he says, teasing as he pulls my hand away, interlocking our fingers.

“Fine, okay, I want to.”

“Want to what?”

“Do it.”

“’It?’ That’s not very specific.”

“God, I fucking hate you.”

He turns to look at Val, says, “She gets so shy when you try to get her to tell you what she wants. So hard for her to just say the words. She’ll do damn near anything, but try to get her to talk about it and she turns into a timid little school girl, it’s adorable.”

Val smiles a quick, tight smile, glances at me, though I look away immediately.

“Come on, you’re being ridiculous,” Henry says, hugging me close. “Just tell me. Tell me what you want.”

I nervously play with his fingers in my lap then bring his hand to my face, suck his forefinger into my mouth, bite it until he yelps, says, “Watch it there, Kujo.”

Without looking at either of them, I say finally, “I want both of you to fuck me at the same time.”

“Oh yeah?”

I nod.

“How do you want us?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.”

I hesitate for a moment then get up, reach for Henry’s hand, let him kiss me when he stands, his tongue deep in my mouth, undulating, a kiss like fucking, a kiss I crave ceaselessly.

After a moment, I push him away, look at Val.

“Lay down, sweetheart,” I say, gentle, can’t help talking to him like he’s something small and soft and spooked; a tiny dog, a bunny rabbit.

He freezes up so I take his hand, smile at him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” I tell him, leaning down to kiss the back of his hand, the palm.

“No, I um. I… want to. I’m just…” he trails off, starts to shift around uncomfortably, moves so, so slowly as he stretches out, those long, lean legs of his barely fitting on the couch.

I smile, kneel down beside him and take his cock, still soft, in my mouth. He moans, runs his fingers through my hair. Once he’s hard, I stand, hitch my dress up to my hips then climb on top of him, guide him inside me.

“Oh God,” he murmurs, his hands timid as they come up to stroke my thighs.

I lean down, press my breasts to his chest as I kiss his neck, making him whimper just a little.

“You feel amazing,” I say into his ear, biting his earlobe, kissing his cheek, his forehead.

“Really?” he asks, sounds so genuinely unsure I giggle a little, lift up so I can look him in the eyes when I nod, answer, “Yes, baby. You really do.”

When I sit up again, Henry buries his fist in my hair and pulls it so my face points up at his, kisses me deeply as he gropes my breast, tweaks my nipple. I moan into his mouth, reach for Val’s hand, place it on my other breast, grinding into him.

He gently brushes his thumb across my nipple as Henry pinches the other roughly and I gasp, guide Val’s free hand under my dress. His touch is slow and soft as he rubs my clit, makes me come so fast it makes Henry laugh into my mouth, our lips bumping against each other as I cry out.

“You’re filthy, you know that?” he says, pulling away to look into my eyes, his gaze intense, unyielding, daring me to look away.

I just moan in response and he laughs again then climbs onto the couch behind me, his hand firm in the center of my back when he pushes me down. My breasts press into Val’s neck and he sighs, his fingers gripping my thighs.

I cover his face with kisses, feel Henry’s cock pressing against my ass.

“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he says.

I prop myself up on my palms and give him a sultry look over my shoulder, ask, “Are you actually surprised?”

“Nah, not really,” he says, grinning at me.

I return my attention to Val as Henry takes me by the hips, pressing the head of his cock to my asshole. I nuzzle against Val’s neck, whisper into his ear, “I can’t wait to get you alone,” though the last word is clipped when Henry makes his way inside me, just the head at first but it’s already so intense it makes me dizzy.

“Don’t stop touching me,” I tell Val, whose hands have gone limp again.

Slowly, he finds his way back to my clit as Henry pushes deeper inside me, a pressure like I’ve never felt before, eliciting a feral groan from deep inside me.

“You like that?” Henry asks, going deeper now, deeper, thrusting into me with shallow strokes, slow at first, giving me time to adjust.

“Oh my God, oh fuck,” I reply, inadvertently biting Val’s neck.

He flinches, his hand stilling against me.

“Don’t stop, baby, please,” I whimper into his ear then sit up enough to look in his eyes, a childlike wonder dancing there.

He starts again, biting his lip, lids hooded, his touch firmer now, making tiny circles around my clit. Henry starts fucking me faster as I sync with him, Val’s cock pressing so hard against my g-spot that it hurts, but a good hurt, a sharp, fantastic pain, and I come again moments later, overlapping orgasms that send me into the stratosphere, practically speaking in tongues as I yelp and scream and seize, an otherworldly heat suffusing me, teeth chattering, hands turning to claws.

I pull Val’s hand out from under my dress, too sensitive now to bear his touch. I interlace our fingers, squeezing tightly, pressing my mouth to his. He squeezes back, a stream of delicate moans issuing forth  against my lips, my tongue.

Henry grows frantic now, groaning loudly when he comes inside me a few minutes later. He collapses on top of me for a moment but quickly grows too hot to stand it, pulls out, gets up.

“Fuck, I’m thirsty,” he says, making me laugh.

I prop myself up on the heels of my hands, my hair a canopy around Val’s face, casting shadows over the planes and valleys of it.

“You still look so nervous, baby,” I murmur, rolling my hips into his as I feel Henry’s come leaking out of me.

“I’m sorry.”

I laugh, say, “Don’t be.”

When I’ve come down enough to stand without falling down, I climb off of him and reach for his hand. Henry wanders back in from the kitchen as I pull Val up to a sitting position, asks, “And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Come on,” I tell Val, ignoring him.

It takes a moment’s hesitation, but eventually he stands. I pull his head down, kiss him softly, my tongue languid in his mouth before I move on to kiss his neck. He sighs a heavy sigh, hands coming up to hold me, though he does so loosely, still seeming to fear rejection even as I press my body to his.

I glance at Henry, a bemused look on his face. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing as I grin, tug Val toward the bedroom, turning to face him once we’re inside. Over his shoulder, I see Henry plop down on the couch, beer in hand as he reaches for the remote on the coffee table.

“Do you want me to take my dress off?” I ask when I return my attention to Val.

“I… I don’t know,” he murmurs, glancing away.

“God, that girl really did a number on you, didn’t she? Or is it something else? We don’t have to do any of this, you know. It’s okay if you want to go… I feel like you’re not fully here with me.”

“I wasn’t enough for her,” he says softly.

I wrap my arms around him, press my cheek to his chest.

“It sounds like the problem was her, not you. I want you, Val. I do. Very much.”

I pause, look up at him, stroke his cheek with the backs of my fingers.

“You’re lovely, you know that? I always did have a little crush on you.”

He looks over his shoulder at the open door.

“Don’t you worry about him… Our hostess can entertain himself for a little while,” I say, letting him go so I can close the door, lock it.

I take his hand in mine, lead him to the foot of the bed. I run my palms up his chest to his shoulders, his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him. He puts his arms around me, a bit less temerity in his touch now that we’re alone.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper when I pull away, looking into his eyes, my fingers riffling through his thick hair.

“Can I um,” he starts then stops, makes me laugh, but gently.

“Can you um what?” I ask, flirting.

“I want to go down on you,” he says finally.

Smiling, I let go of him, take my dress off and toss it aside, climb up onto the bed on my hands and knees, moving slowly so his eyes can linger on my ass before I lie down on my back, spread my legs, beckoning.

He climbs up on the bed, starts up high so he can kiss me first, moaning softly into my hair as his mouth searches for my neck. His hand roams as he kisses me there, gripping me firmly now, filled to overflowing each time he squeezes me; hip, thigh, stomach, breast.

I can feel him hard against me, his crotch pressed against mine, subtly humping me as my hips roll up into his, an involuntary reaction, my body craving to move like he’s already inside me. Slowly, he begins to kiss his way down my body, pausing to lick first my right, then my left nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth, gripping it lightly with his teeth, teasing it with his tongue as he does.

I moan, arching my back, my hands in his hair.

“God, that feels amazing,” I murmur, spreading my legs wider, growing ever more desperate to come again, aching now.

“Really?” he asks, pausing to look up at me, still seeming so utterly unsure it makes my heart ache.

I nod, say, “You have no idea.”

He smiles a little, switches sides, suckling, teasing gently with his teeth. I moan again and again, moreso than I normally would but without ever tipping toward being disingenuous, merely desperate to help him understand how badly I want him, how good his mouth feels against my flesh.

I lift my hips up into him, squirming now, begging, “Please, Val, please, I can’t wait anymore.”

He moans, mouth vibrating against me, taking a breast in each hand to bury his face between them for a moment before kissing his way down my soft stomach, lingering there longer than I can bear so I groan impatiently, pushing him down as I do.

Then his head is between my legs, an urgency in his grasp as he takes hold of my hips, lapping at me, pausing to look up and say, “Jesus Christ, you taste so good.”

“Really?” I ask, a touch of his insecurity rubbing off on me.

“So fucking good,” he replies, and then he’s sucking my clit into his mouth, reaching up with one hand to play with my nipple, reaching down with the other to thrust two fingers inside me.

“Oh my God, oh fuck,” I cry, my hands in his hair again as I buck my hips up into him, pleading, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, please,” as he laps at me eagerly.

I come just a minute after he starts – if that, – a great, booming euphoria exploding from the center of me to fill my torso, my limbs, the tips of my fingers and toes, can practically feel it in my teeth as I grow loud and wild beneath him, gone unintelligible with overwhelm. He stops for a moment, looking up at me, quizzical, asks, “Did you just come?”

I laugh and nod, face hot and flushed, reply, “Was that not clear enough for you?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean… I’m just…” he trails off, fingers still inside me as he clutches my breast in his free hand, thumbing my nipple absentmindedly as he dips his head to suck the flesh of my thigh into his mouth then kisses me there, takes a long time to finish by saying, “…surprised,” his eyes settling on mine, massaging my g-spot as he looks at me; stunned, smitten.

I smooth his hair back from his forehead, say, “God, I love your hair. I can’t stop touching it.”


I chuckle, ask, “What do you mean ‘why?’ It’s wonderful. Soft and thick. Shiny. It’s unfair for a man to have hair like this,” I say, ruffling it playfully.

He shakes his head, a dismissal, then wordlessly returns his mouth to my cunt, languidly fingerfucking me as he tongues me, making me moan, making me whimper, clutching his hair by the fistful now.

“Jesus, that feels so fucking good,” I sigh, taking only a couple minutes, tops, to come again, an orgasm that washes over me in relentless waves as I cry out, pulling his hair too hard, my pelvis bumping his teeth as I spasm against him.

Eager, hungry, he comes up to kiss me passionately, then nudges my nose with his.

“Let me make love to you, Mara, please,” he whispers.

I take his head in my hands, push him away just enough to look into his eyes as I say, “Okay,” spreading my legs wider, arching up into him.

“Tell me you want me,” he pleads, such a sadness in his eyes, causes tears to sting mine just looking at him.

“I want you so badly, Val. God, I want you, I wish I could make you understand. I don’t come that fast all the time, you know. You did that. Just you.”

Tears wet his eyes too now, his voice quivering when he asks, “Really?”

I nod, kiss him softly then say, “You’re incredible. So beautiful, so sweet. I don’t just want you, I need you. I need you inside me, baby, please.”

He slips into me then with a sigh, a moan, murmurs, “Oh my God,” as he sinks in all the way.

I lift my hips hard up into his as he lies there, still, his mouth on my neck.

“Please, Val,” I pant, grabbing at him everywhere I can touch, squirming when he doesn’t start to fuck me.

“Let me lie here like this, just for a minute, Mar, please. Just let me feel you.”

I whimper in frustration but accede as he gently sucks the flesh of my neck into his mouth then kisses me there over and over, soon switching sides, nuzzling his nose against my ear.

“I can’t believe how good you feel,” he whispers into my ear. “I never want to leave; I could spend the rest of my life right here inside you, and be happy.”

“Mm, yes, me too.”

“You don’t have to say that,” he says, looking into my eyes now.

“I know I don’t have to say it, Val.”

He starts moving inside me then, syrup-slow, his gaze locked on mine, the intensity overwhelming me so much that I have to close my eyes, though he immediately says, “No, don’t. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I ask, opening them.

“Close your eyes. I need you here with me the whole way through.”

“I didn’t go anywhere, baby, I promise. This is just so intense, I got overwhelmed, that’s all.”

I reach up to stroke his cheek, loving, lingering, lifting my head to lay a single kiss on his lips.

He tears up again, presses his nose against mine, says, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, confused.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, baby. You sweet, sweet thing. You’re breaking my fucking heart, you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, makes me laugh this time, though sadly, shaking my head.

“Don’t be,” I reply, sighing when he lengthens his stroke, head hitting my g-spot now, feels so good I struggle to keep my eyes open.

He lifts up, leans down to suck my nipple into his mouth. I gasp, my hips rising against his as I moan, mumble, “Jesus Christ.”

He shifts around so he can tweak the other, still fucking me in long strokes as he does, keeps going until I come again, a sudden heat racing through me, such euphoria it’s nearly unbearable, overwhelms me completely as I spasm around him, causing him to groan deeply as his mouth finds my neck again.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he murmurs into my ear. “Up until tonight it’d been so long since that’s happened to me; a woman coming when I’m inside her. I forgot how incredible it feels. Chloe never comes with me anymore.”

I moan in response, keep rhythmically squeezing him even after my involuntary spasms subside, gaze up at him as he looks down at me, eyelids heavy now, biting his lip.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, Val,” I tell him, pulling him down to kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me.

He makes the sweetest little puppy dog sound, starts fucking me a little faster, asks, “Can I come inside you?”

I nod, say, “Yes, please, I want you to.”

He speeds up only to slow down a moment later, drawing it out, staring into me, laying me open.

“I don’t want to come because when I do, it’ll be over and I’ll have to leave you.”

“Who said you have to leave?”

“All I have is this, just this one night.”

“But the night’s not over though, is it? The carriage doesn’t turn back into a pumpkin the second you come, you know.”

“Doesn’t it though? When this ends, you’ll go back out there, with him. You won’t be mine anymore. You’re not even mine now, I know that, but at least I can pretend you are as long as I’m inside you.”

I run my fingers up into his hair, lift my head to touch the tip of my nose to his then shake my head no, say, “You don’t have to go, sweetheart. Stay. Spend the night with me.”

“It’s not the same when he’s with us.”

“Fuck him, he can sleep on the couch. I’m sure he can live without me for one night.”

Doubt clouds his face as he shakes his head no, says, “He’s not gonna go for that, no way.”

“Just because this was his idea, that doesn’t mean he gets to dictate the details. I decide what I want to do, not him. And I want you to stay. Here. With me.”


I smile, nod.

“What if he says no?”

“It’s not for him to say.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“No. It’s not.”

He sighs, unconvinced, redirecting his attention as he lavishes my neck with delicate kisses.

“I’m not even going to ask him, Val. The door’s locked, remember? He’s out there and we’re in here. Alone. I want you to stay with me. I do.”

“Are you sure?”

I laugh softly, make him look at me, a hand on either side of his head.

“Positive,” I say, then kiss him, my tongue snaking subtly into his mouth.

He begins to fuck me again, having stopped while we talked, moving faster now, lips parting, eyes hooded, moaning.

“Oh my God, Mara,” he murmurs. “Oh my God.”

He stares into me without relent then convulses against me a few minutes later, gripping the bedsheet so roughly it pops off each corner just before he collapses on top of me.

He whimpers softly against my neck, whispers, “I love you,” into my ear, his skin sweaty now against mine.

“Shh,” I murmur, stroking his back as he gasps for air.

“I mean it.”


He rolls off me then, lies staring up at the ceiling. I turn, tuck myself underneath his arm, head resting on his chest, stroking his stomach with my fingers as I throw a leg over his, drifting off into a dreamless sleep not long after.

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