Make Me (11 page)

‘I’m just fucking with you. Let’s talk about sex some more.’

I hate him.

Except for all the places where I love him half to death.

‘Where were we again? Oh yeah, so you were masturbating …’ he says to me, once Brandon and I have started breathing again.

‘I wasn’t masturbating.’

‘So
Bran
was masturbating …’

He cocks a finger at Brandon, like we’re talking about some quaint little college story that he hasn’t heard before.
So Bran was in the library, when Mrs Wellman walked by with her skirt tucked into her knickers
...

Only you know. Mrs Wellman never walked by with her skirt tucked into her knickers. Instead there’s just a lot of hidden sex stuff that we have to now discuss.

‘Yeah, I was masturbating. I’m always masturbating. Everything starts off with me, masturbating.’

Tyler’s faux-innocent expression turns into something a little slyer. And maybe a touch bemused, too, when he realises the following: ‘You know, you say that like it’s funny. But actually, everything really
does
. One day I caught you jerking off to a picture of Maisie –’

‘Oh gross, guys – you had a picture of me?’ I cut in, but of course Tyler just barrels right by me.

‘– and the rest is history.’

It’s OK, however. Brandon has it covered. ‘So this has got nothing to do with you being a giant pervert who doesn’t politely leave the room when he catches his best friend doing himself?’

‘I don’t think many people would have walked away from you doing
that
,’ Tyler says, and then this feeling just comes over me. It’s like I can’t resist asking. I can’t resist
him
. It’s exactly as Brandon said – it’s not like he makes you, exactly.

You just want to, even so.

‘What was he doing?’

‘He hadn’t yet moved on to the hard stuff. He was just fingering himself, like the little slut he is.’

The hand goes back over Brandon’s face, again – though this time he at least peeps out from between a couple of fingers. And he doesn’t sound that horrified, when he works up to saying words. ‘Oh, this is just my worst nightmare. You know how I said that I wanted to, like, write Maisie a love letter, back in college? It contained almost none of this information.’

Tyler crumples his face up at me in an expression I recognise as mild distaste.

‘Yeah, it was mostly just boring stuff, about your hair and your eyes. “Oh, Maisie, I totally did not beg my best friend to mount me, because that picture of you with your cleavage out drove me all nuts.”’

I really have to come back to this point again, despite the other twenty points in that last speech I’m still reeling over. ‘Seriously. You guys had a
picture
of me? Was I mysteriously naked in this picture?’

‘You were wearing that little sleep vest of yours. I’m surprised he didn’t go blind from jerking off to it too often.’

‘I wish I was blind
now
,’ Brandon says, but he does it far, far too loudly. I’m starting to think the lady doth protest too much, and if his already rejuvenated erection is anything to go by, I’m right.

‘And you were just the kind of friend to help him out, huh?’ I say to Tyler, before delivering the kicker, complete with over-emphasis. ‘By
mounting
him.’

‘He didn’t mount me,’ Brandon complains, but Tyler just laughs uproariously. Yeah, he knew what he was doing choosing a word like that one all right.

Mount.
Jesus
.

‘How do you want me to tell this story, then?’ he asks.

Although Brandon keeps that spread hand over his face, he answers. I’m proud of him, for answering – especially like this: ‘Just tell her I got really horny and then you alleviated that by rubbing my prostate repeatedly with something you happened to have on your person.’

In fact, I think I
love
him, for answering like that – and Tyler certainly does. He laughs that big laugh again, and hauls Brandon in for the kind of half-hug he used to give him all the time.

Though, of course, it has a little extra meaning now. I don’t think it was just sport fucking between them. I think they … well, I think they’re awfully fond of each other, at the very least. And if that worries me a little, there’s not much I can do about it. I just have to deal with it, up to the point where Tyler hauls me in for a hug, too.

Oh, we’re going to have some weird Christmases in our future.

‘Look at you two,’ he says, like a proud father with his two favourite puppies. ‘My little sex toys.’

Yeah. Some really, really weird Christmases.

‘I thought you wanted to be all respectful of me, and stuff,’ I say, but I do it while nudging his testicles with my left knee, so really, who’s fooling who here?

‘If you keep doing that, I totally will be. Little to the right.’

‘You like that?’

‘I like any part of you that’s touching any part of me.’

‘How about now?’ I try, while digging my knee in just a little harder. You know, right between his carelessly spread legs.

But Tyler stops me in my tracks again. I guess there’s no kink too big, or too small.

‘So that’s what you’re into. Well, for the record, Bran likes hair pulling and I enjoy biting.
Biting
.’

‘Really? Did you pull his hair while you fucked him?’

Both of them turn to look at me, in a way that makes me wish I hadn’t asked. I’m pretty sure the hand-over-the-face, shame-based portion of the evening is over.

‘You really asking? Or are we still just fooling around?’ Tyler asks.

I can’t help noting that he’s got his hand in Bran’s hair, the way he had his hand in mine a moment ago. And Brandon is getting very pink, again. Very foggy-eyed. I think he’s actually rubbing his head back into that slight pressure, after a while of it.

‘I’m really asking.’

‘You want me to give a demonstration?’

I can’t say yes. But then again, I can’t say no, exactly. I just watch Brandon’s face for my cue – is he OK with this, or not? Is he bothered, or not? Unfortunate, really, that it’s almost impossible to tell. He doesn’t say
red rum
, and that’s about it.

‘I don’t know,’ I say, because that’s safe. That’s easy. ‘What do you want to do?’

Tyler seems to consider for a full ten seconds before replying. Which just makes me think he had the answer pre-loaded – probably since the year we all met at university.

‘I want you to get him ready for me,’ he says, so that I’m no doubt at all. He’s
definitely
had that answer pre-loaded since university.

And I’ve been carrying around some shame or prudery since then, too, because for a long moment I’m paralysed. I’m terrified. I can’t even think of what he means, until he spells the whole thing out, and even then I move on autopilot.

‘Go to the end of the bed, Maisie,’ he says. Followed by something worse, something that isn’t for me. It’s for someone else, and yet somehow it buzzes through my body just as strongly.

‘Get on your hands and knees, Bran,’ he says, and oh Lord, Bran
does
. He barely even stops to think about it. He just kind of moans and fumbles around on the bed, the way I did not so long ago.

Though this time it’s me manhandling someone. I actually put out a hand and steady him when it seems like he might slide sideways off the bed. And the second he’s in some kind of fairly obvious position – on all fours, like an animal, ready to rut – I do other things I didn’t know I was capable of.

I run one rude hand over the smooth curve of his upturned ass, squeezing as I go – just a little bit. Just enough to make it a grope instead of anything more tame.

Tame wouldn’t force that groan out of him, I’m sure. Tame wouldn’t persuade him to spread his legs like a whore, before I’ve said anything else.

Though Tyler goes with it anyway. ‘That’s it,’ he says. ‘Spread those legs. Show her what you’ve got.’

It’s quite possibly the most arousing thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m not sure why. Is it because it’s a
man
Tyler’s talking to, rather than a woman? It’s definitely the kind of thing I’m used to hearing applied to some sluttish chick, as opposed to Brandon. Big, hairy, solid Brandon.

And yet I don’t think it’s that. I’m not even sure it’s the sight of him that arouses me – that long, smooth, pale back, arched for me. The spread of his legs, the spread of his firm, tight ass cheeks, the swell of his swollen balls between.

No, no. I mean, these things
are
electrically exciting. But they’re not half as exciting as the hand Tyler’s got in his hair, or the way he turns his best friend’s head, before plundering that neat little mouth with his own.

That’s right.
They make out in front of me
.

And I have no idea how to respond to it. A big part of me sizzles with something like jealousy – thinking of those couple of fucks, of those moments they’ve had together while I stupidly exiled myself – but said jealousy wars with something far stranger. It sets up enemy lines and engages in skirmishes, until I’m just this big mess of resentment and utter, utter arousal.

They don’t even hold back. It’s not a polite kiss. I see their tongues squirming around each other’s and after a while it’s fairly obvious that Tyler is trying to fuck Brandon’s face. He doesn’t let him come up for air until Bran is gasping for breath and shaking a little, and more than that …

He definitely wants me to do something to him.

Definitely. It’s just kind of hard to tell what, because I’m not a guy. I’m pretty sure a guy would know exactly what to do, if he had a person on all fours in front of him and the person on all fours in front of him was rutting back against nothing, just begging to be filled.

But it’s understandable that I’m less certain – I don’t have anything to fill him
with
. I don’t even have a dildo or a handy vegetable of some type. I’ve just got my own paltry little fingers, and a complete lack of lube, and this feeling in my chest like I’m about to burst.

I don’t know, I don’t know, I can’t, I think, even if other people are sure I can.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Tyler asks, as though I’m knelt in front of something far less threatening, like a swing set.
Go on, Maisie. Get on the swing
. ‘Lick him. Lick that tight little asshole of his.’

Disappointing, really, that I can’t seem to go for it. I just kneel there, half shivering, unsure – head full of all the ways this could go wrong. What if I don’t do it right? What if he doesn’t like it?

What if he moans for me to do it, thirty seconds after Tyler’s suggested it?

Because he does. He ruts back against me and fists his hands in the sheets, then practically
tells
me to do it. I’ve got two guys ordering me around, it seems, though I’m struggling to obey either. I close my eyes and fumble forwards, heart pounding.

Then I lick, quick and sharp, between the cheeks of his ass, and at the same time he makes a sound like someone drowning, and after that I’m lost.

I can’t be anything else. I want him to make that sound again and, when he does, I do a whole bunch of things I didn’t know I was capable of. I use my hands to spread his cheeks wider, for one – so that I can really get in there and rub the slick tip of my tongue over his clenched tight hole.

Which he seems to appreciate. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he tells me. ‘Just like that.’

But he doesn’t mean
just like that
at all. He means
do more
, and I know he does because the moment I do he shudders for me. He groans and says my name and presses his face into Tyler’s chest, and suddenly it’s much easier to work on him. Easier, but a touch more embarrassing – especially when Tyler asks what it is I’m doing.

I’m eating his pussy, I think at him, deliriously, but thankfully Brandon’s there to supply some sanity.

‘She’s fucking me with her tongue,’ he says, which I suppose is true. I’m certainly not hanging around any more. I’m tasting him – all earthy and salt-sweet, and not like I expected at all. I thought I’d get a lewd reminder of this nasty thing I’m doing, but instead it’s just unbearably hot and Brandon’s squirming and saying things like ‘Uhhh you’re making me so hard.’

Which only pushes me on. I spit wetly over that now glistening hole, and when Tyler says something unforgivably rude like ‘Try him out for me’ – as though Brandon really is his sex toy, moaning and shivering and ready to be used – I don’t hesitate. I take the bottle of lube he passes me, and make a real mess with it between the spread cheeks of Brandon’s ass.

Then I do the same to myself. I get it all down me and all over my hands, to the point where Tyler stops focusing on Brandon’s ass and the mouth Brandon’s pressing wetly to his chest, and starts focusing on me.

‘Yeah,’ he tells me, and I note that he’s stroking his thick ruddy cock while he does so. ‘Oil your tits for me. Get yourself all slippery.’

And I do. I work that slickness all over my stiff nipples and between my legs, and by the time I’m done I feel the way I look.

Wanton. Too turned on to bear it. My clit is standing stiff again, ready to be stroked, while my head fills with every variation we could try. Tyler could fuck Brandon and I could fuck him and he could fuck me and I could suck this as he sucks that and … oh, I don’t even know what my pronouns are referring to any more.

There could be seven other men in here with me. It feels like there are seven other men when Tyler talks.

‘Just ease in slow, slow,’ he says, voice like a hum that burrows beneath my skin. He makes it so easy, just as Brandon said. All I have to do is lean into his words and urge my slippery finger against Brandon’s asshole, and I’m there.

I’m fucking into his astonishingly smooth and far too tight passage without even really trying. And, Lord, you can tell he likes it. It’s obvious right off, before I’ve squirmed another finger in and found something that makes him jerk and gasp and lurch towards Tyler’s erection.

He likes all of it: the feel of something stretching him and twisting against that tight ring of muscle; the knowledge that it’s me, exploring him; and, of course, the stiff cock Tyler then offers him.