Chemical [se]X (7 page)

At least now I know, in a long term relationship it’s never too late to voice your kinky desires. You might just need a little help… even if it is in the form of aphrodisiac confectionery and a university crush.

I let myself sink into sleep with the fragrance of man and chocolate soothing my sex-bruised body.

Thursday Threesome/Birthday Foursome

Jacob Louder

If you ask Curtis, he’ll tell you that he spent way too much of the evening convincing Dylan that the chocolates were vegan. Their wives, however, were already going at it. On the sofa, in front of There Will Be Blood, which played, unwatched, on the television, Mary had Ellen’s top off and was running her fingertips over the lace of Ellen’s bra, her face against Ellen’s neck. Ellen had her eyes closed, releasing soft, delicate moans that made Curt hard, breaking his attention away from the whole vegan/not vegan conversation.

They were in Dylan and Mary’s kitchen. “I can’t,” Dylan said, karate chopping the air for unnecessary emphasis, since Curt could already hear the obstinacy in his voice. Dylan leaned his elbows on the granite countertop between him and Curtis. “I won’t sacrifice my morals for some sex chocolate or whatever. You, of all people, should know this, Curt.”

Curtis loved the fire in his dark eyes, but he loved it more when Dylan sucked his cock while fucking Mary. On those nights at Dylan and Mary’s house—usually long nights, usually Thursdays—Curt and Mary would fill the air with their respective moans, and Dylan would just work and work—hips thrusting and cock pumping long and deep inside Mary’s cunt, with Curtis’ dick fucking Dylan’s throat—until Mary’s orgasm barreled from her body. Mary was loud, a screamer, and that always set Curtis off, who usually pulled out of Dylan’s mouth and came all over his face, all over his short, dark beard, in honor of Mary’s demonstrativeness. And he would always shoot some down onto Mary’s stomach, which was something she had insisted on since the very beginning, during early negotiations. Mary had wanted to be included in all the fun.

“Okay, look,” Curt said, his eyes moving quickly from Dylan to the girls, the girls to Dylan. He flipped over the long, gold box, pointing at the sticker that had printed on it the chocolates’ ingredients, their “nutritional value.” “No dairy, no honey, no nothing.” Dylan frowned up at Curt, clearly inconvincible. Curt exhaled, exasperated. “Look!” he said, moving the chocolate box close to Dylan’s face. Dylan snatched it away from him.

In the living room, Mary had Ellen’s bra off and was licking with quick, playful laps Curt’s wife’s nipples, which, he could see, were now small and puckered—just the way he liked to feel them beneath his fingertips, hard like that. The women, Curt could tell, were holding eye contact. Between the two, they had eaten six chocolates. Ellen was lifting her hips up against Mary’s stomach and that, he knew, was a sign of her desperate need for a good, hard fucking.

On the other side of the chocolate box, Dylan mumbled his way through the ingredients list. Curt decided to rub his cock through his nylon shorts, watching Dylan’s lips move, wanting them against his own. He loved the way Dylan kissed, especially now with his well-kept beard.

“Ah, ah—look. Right here. May contain traces of soy and dairy. Fuck that, dude,” Dylan said, dropping the box on the countertop.

The men stared at one another, silent, until the moans from the living room caught Dylan’s attention. He leaned his body heavily against the counter and turned his head. “Oh, fuck,” he said. “Would you look at that.”

Ellen had her hands wrapped tight in Mary’s long, brown hair. She was holding the head of Dylan’s wife very still between her legs—Ellen’s jeans and panties off now, sprawled on the maroon carpet—and she rolled and grinded her hips, her lips parted. Mary was digging her nails into the undersides of Ellen’s thighs. Even from the kitchen, Curt could see the tiny pink marks she left.

Dylan turned back to Curt and saw him staring. “Dude, are you beating your meat?”

“Fuck, yes, I am beating my meat,” Curt said, keeping his eyes fixed on the women in the living room. “I’ve had four of those things.”

Dylan leaned forward on the counter to take a look at what was happening beneath Curt’s waistband. “Oh! You’ve got your cock out!”

He did. Curt worked his half-hard dick gently and slowly. Watching the girls was a turn-on, but he was more of a tactile man. He needed something hot and wet. It didn’t matter what it was or who it belonged to. Still, though, he stood transfixed by the women on the sofa, his cock growing in his hand, thinking, That’s my wife, again and again. This was a sticking point only because Ellen had opted out of Thursday nights at the Reardon’s, firm about having no interest in swinging or swapping or, as Curt would describe it, “relaxing and having a really good time with close friends.” Curt knew he was lucky, having a woman in his life that understood why he needed Thursday nights, why he wanted Thursday nights. Ellen never complained. If she needed Curt on a Thursday, she knew he would be there. She didn’t feel threatened. Hell, she would even leave dinner for him on the stove top, the stove’s light glowing warm and white, the only one left on in the room.

And when you’re a lucky guy like Curtis Spillane, sometimes your luck can grow unexpectedly, like when Ellen had agreed to join the threesome this Thursday night in honor of Curt’s 31st birthday. In fact, the chocolates with the “sexy middles”—a thick, raspberry syrup that, turned out, lived up to their promise of delivering a “hot and heated night”—had been Ellen’s idea. “Just in case,” she said in the car as Curtis drove to Dylan and Mary’s, “you know, I need an extra push.” Curt turned to his wife in time to catch a soft blush spread across her cheeks.

But as Curt watched Ellen tip her head back, her hips meeting the thrusts of Mary’s two fingers buried deep in her pussy, he figured she hadn’t needed much of a push at all.

Curt, his cock now fully erect in his hand, hadn’t even noticed that Dylan moved to his side of the kitchen counter. Dylan put a hand on Curt’s chest, running the palm of his hand over both of Curt’s hard nipples, sensitive now beneath the cotton. Curt watched Dylan smile. “You’re my other lucky charm, Dyl,” Curt said. “Ellen’s my number one, and then there’s you.” Curt’s anger was gone, his frustration gone. The chocolates had managed to wrap his brain and boner in what felt like a surge of warm bath water.

Dylan took Curt’s cock from his hand and began a firmer, more serious tug. Curt closed his eyes. He loved the way Dylan touched him. He always had. Dylan placed soft kisses along his neck, his jaw line and chin, until Curt finally found his tongue in Dylan’s mouth, which tasted only slightly of the spices Mary had put on the roasted potatoes they had eaten for dinner. When Curt felt hands on his face, he opened his eyes and noticed that his cock sat heavy atop the bulge in Dylan’s cargo shorts. “Grab those chocolates, dude,” Dylan said. “I want to show those girls a good time.”

The chocolate slipped easily inside, Ellen’s cunt still warm and wet from her orgasm. Curt watched as it began to melt, the chocolate mixing with his wife’s juices, a slow drip down her pussy to her asshole. He licked, his tongue forcing the chocolate deeper inside her. Curt felt Ellen’s hands tighten in his short hair, although he knew it wasn’t him that excited her, but what she was watching: Mary sucking Dylan’s cock as he worked a dildo, shiny with lube, deep inside his ass.

This scene for Curtis was an old one—he had watched this countless times on Thursday nights—but, for Ellen, he had hoped it would tickle her fancy.

Curt let the chocolate slip out of Ellen’s cunt and into his mouth, this one with its own one-of-a-kind Ellen taste. He rolled it around his mouth with his tongue—Ellen watching, a small, dark smile on her lips—bit, and then swallowed before returning to properly clean his wife’s pussy. Ellen moaned, started saying “baby” so softly and so many times that Curtis looked up to check in with her. Ellen slid from the couch onto the floor with him, nestling against his chest.

Ellen whispered loudly, like a drunk, her mouth soft and wet against his chin, “Can you kiss Dylan?”

Curt smiled. “I can do more than kiss him, if you want to see.”

“He really likes things deep inside his ass,” she said, her eyes big, staring over Curt’s shoulder.

“He can fit almost anything in there,” Curt said. “In college, I used him as luggage.”

“Fuck you, dude,” Dylan said, but then the tone of his voice changed. “Oh fuck,” he said, soft and breathy. “Oh fuck, Mary!”

Curt turned to watch Mary jerking Dylan’s cock with a fast hand, her mouth open, tongue out to catch Dylan’s spunk. He was still working that dildo in his ass, in and out, almost as fast as Mary’s hand worked his cock. Curt knew that Dylan’s load would be huge. It always was when he had something that deep inside him.

Curt turned back to Ellen, who didn’t, who absolutely couldn’t, move her eyes away from Dylan and Mary. “Good,” he said. “Keep watching.”

When he turned again, Dylan let out a series of heavy, breathy roars, the dildo so deep in his ass that Curt could only see its base. Dylan’s head was back, like he awaited baptism, his free arm out for balance. Mary was still jerking him off with a ferocity that Curt knew Dylan loved. On her knees, she only smiled up at her husband now. Mary knew, as Curt did, that Dylan’s orgasm would be thunderous.

Curt noticed that the way Mary was jerking Dylan’s cock, the way she held him in her hand, that he’d probably hit the sliding glass door behind her, the one that led out to their wooded backyard. With a final grunt, Dylan brought his head forward and tucked his chin against his chest, shooting his load clear over Mary’s head and hitting not the door, but the tall, potted fern in the corner. Curt turned to see Ellen’s cheeks flushed, her brown eyes bright, the tiniest of smiles on her lips. He not-so-sneakily worked his hand between her legs to find her pussy hot and wet, and she jolted in his arms when he stroked her softly. Embarrassed, Ellen giggled against Curt’s shoulder.

Curt heard the familiar thud of Dylan’s dildo dropping from his ass to the carpet.

He pressed his mouth to Ellen’s ear, his cock hard against her stomach. Softly, he said, “What do you want, baby?”

Her response came quick and clear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I need to get fucked. Like, right now.”

Everyone had moved to Dylan and Mary’s bedroom because much more comfortable space waited there, courtesy of the couple’s king-sized mattress. That, and Dylan needed to strap on Mary’s favorite dildo, but didn’t want to miss a second of Curt’s birthday party. Curt loved watching Dylan step into the pleather harness, fitting the black, seven-inch, silicone cock over his own spent, flaccid dick. In fact, Curt loved this so much that, from the mattress, Ellen had to stretch out a leg and push him toward her using the foot she had hooked along the back of his thigh. “Come on,” she said, rising to her elbows, only then distracting her husband who stood mesmerized, his cock out hard between the two of them, by Dylan fitting the straps over his hips.

With his focus finally away from Dylan, what Curtis found himself liking especially about the room change was that Mary and Ellen lay side by side on the bed. Mary, on her back with her chin tilted up, watched as her husband struggled to adjust his temporary replacement. Ellen had sat up, however, and now had Curt’s cock in her hand.

“Lie down,” Curt said, looking into Ellen’s big, brown eyes. “Go on. Lie down.”

Ellen brought her head back slowly, and Curt noticed the muscles flex at her core. Once Ellen settled again on the mattress, Mary reached over to take one of Ellen’s breasts in her hand, and Curt softly moaned as he watched Mary squeeze and release, squeeze and release, his wife’s most tender flesh. Even when he got on the bed, balancing on his knees as he spread his wife’s legs and moved between them, Ellen turned her head away from Curt to kiss Mary. The women’s lips touched, their mouths open. Curt could hear the wet clicks of their tongues, the long, lazy breaths exhaled through their noses.

Curt wrapped his arms under Ellen’s thighs, lifted her hips slightly from the mattress, and pressed the tip of his hard cock into his wife’s wet cunt. With that, Ellen’s attention was back with Curt. “Oh fuck,” she said. “Oh fuck, Curt, go deeper.” Her hands were reaching for him, brushing against the soft hair on his stomach. He slowly pushed inside until his balls touched the wet lips of her pussy.

Curt groaned with pleasure. He loved how Ellen could take the full length of his cock, which wasn’t monster-sized like the one now strapped on to Dylan, who stood by the edge of the bed at Curt’s side, his hands on his hips, the mammoth silicone dildo practically dangling between his legs, it was so heavy. No, Curt had an average dick, but he never complained or wished for more. He enjoyed his size because he had never caused any of his lovers, male or female, any consternation, and so “first times” were never too awkward or too uncomfortable. Curt was proud that, with relative ease, his cock could fit in any hole.

“I love watching that cock go to work,” Dylan said, which made Ellen smile up at Curt. “Look at how wet your dick is. Her pussy must feel amazing.”

Mary pulled Dylan onto the bed by his dildo. “Feel this pussy,” she said, bringing Dylan’s hand between her legs. Curt watched Dylan’s reaction: his face scrunched up like he was disappointed, but Curt knew it meant the opposite.

Curt started fucking Ellen a little harder. He rubbed her breasts, gentler than Mary had, and ran little circles over her nipples with his thumbs. Ellen cooed, her eyes half-closed, but still on Curt, and began thrusting her hips up to meet him. Curt hoped she was as close as he was.

Dylan had joined everyone on the bed—the men now knelt side by side—and managed to slip the massive dildo into Mary’s pussy. Curt noticed how wide Dylan was stretching her with that thing, pushing slowly inside, an open-mouthed smile as he watched Mary effortlessly suck in the length of that big, black cock. As far as Curt was concerned, Mary loved it, was practically losing her mind on the mattress next to Ellen. Mary’s legs were spread wide as she clawed at her own breasts, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed closed, and she made those guttural grunts Curt loved so much. They sounded both enraptured and agonized, and it turned Curt on, thinking that Mary might like that much pain in her pussy, as Dylan started thrusting that beast inside her.