I think about Sam in charge of me in bed, the way Brad always is. Telling me what he wants me to do and how he wants me to do it. Making all the decisions. Calling the shots. Oh, yeah. Sam can top me. Sam can definitely top me.
‘Well, then, tell Sam I’m game, and he can top me if he wants. Tell him I’d like it if he does. If I see him first, I’ll tell him. The rest you’ll need to decide for yourself.’
* * *
A few days go by. I see Sam in the hall and ask whether Brad’s spoken to him yet about next Wednesday. He nods and smiles at me. I blush a little, wondering what he’s thinking.
‘I’m looking forward to it, Dana. I sure won the jackpot this time.’
‘Thanks,’ I answer, blushing darker. ‘Actually, I’m looking forward to it, too.’ Might as well be honest with him. He raises one eyebrow, and his smile turns into a grin.
‘We usually get home around six and have dinner before … playtime. You want to come over and eat with us?’ I think it will feel less weird if he actually has dinner with us than if he just shows up at the door for his appointment to fuck me.
‘Yeah, that’s good. I can be there around six.’
I let myself into the apartment, drop my stuff and sink onto the sofa. I’m really going to do this. On Wednesday I am going to have sex with my next-door neighbour. And, as far as I know, my boyfriend is going to be there too.
Wednesday rolls around. All day, all I think about is sex with Sam. I’ve seen him washing his car in the summer without a shirt on, in just a pair of cutoffs and flip-flops. I wonder what his cock will be like. I wonder what it will be like to be fucked by someone who isn’t Brad. I haven’t been fucked by anyone else in almost six years. That’s a long time.
I wonder whether doing this will make me feel like a slut.
I realise I really, really want to feel like a slut.
* * *
On Wednesday it’s Brad’s turn to pick up dinner on the way home. He’s stopping at our favourite sub shop. We debated getting ribs from This Little Piggy, but Wednesday is usually about bringing home something we can eat quickly and easily before getting on to the business of playing. We decide we’re not going to change the routine just because Sam will be there. Who wants to be wrestling with ribs and trying to get the smell of barbecue sauce off our skin before our orgy? Or should I call it a gangbang? A threesome? A one-plus-one-plus-one-some? The correct nomenclature eludes me.
The doorbell rings. Sam’s here before Brad. I open the door and he comes in with two sixpacks, which I take from him to put in the fridge. As he is about to hand me the beer, he leans down and kisses me. He’s a good kisser, just as I’d always imagined he’d be.
Sam’s lips are soft, and that’s how the kiss starts. It’s long and slow, and I start to relax into it. As his tongue finds mine, the kiss becomes more insistent. Suddenly my clit starts twitching and I can feel myself getting wet. His mouth tastes like peppermint. Sam pulls me closer, circling my waist with one arm while he still holds the two sixpacks, and I feel his erection starting to push out the front of his pants into my belly. When he releases me, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then take the beer from his hands. Whew!
I put the bottles into the fridge and tell him to make himself comfortable. He’s been in our apartment a million times, but suddenly it feels strange to have him here. I wish Brad would get home. Or I wish Brad wasn’t coming back at all and Sam and I could just go into the bedroom and start fooling around. I feel like we have to wait for Brad, because how weird will it be if we start something and he walks in? I wouldn’t want to walk in on my boyfriend and another woman, even if I’d agreed ahead of time to the two of them having sex. I don’t want him to feel as if Sam and I want to fuck each other so much we can’t even wait for him to arrive.
Finally, he shows up; it turns out he decided to bring home burgers and fries instead. We all hang out in the living room and eat, although I’m so nervous, all I have is half a burger and I have to stop. I get a Coke out of the fridge to settle my stomach. I hang out in the kitchen by myself for a few minutes, trying to gather my thoughts.
Brad understands. He gives me a few minutes alone, then brings his and Sam’s plates into the kitchen. He puts them on the counter, then pulls me into a hug. ‘You sure you’re still up for this?’ he asks.
‘Yeah. Actually, I am. This just feels kind of weird right now, know what I mean?’
‘Yeah, I understand. I told Sam to go on into the bedroom for a minute, that we’d be right in.’
‘OK. Let’s do it.’
We go in, and Sam is sitting on the edge of the bed in his jeans. He’s taken off his shirt, shoes and socks. He gets up and comes over and kisses me. Brad and Sam stand across from each other and pass me back and forth between them. For a while, the three of us just stand in the middle of the floor, the two of them taking turns kissing me. The heat and electricity in the room are so palpable, I feel as if sparks are going to start popping around me, like something is going to burst into flames. Maybe it will be me.
Brad undresses me and opens the drawer where I keep my T-shirts. He’s taken everything off me except my bra and panties. He looks through the drawer and takes out my very favourite Wednesday-night top, an old green T-shirt of his that I’ve redesigned with a pair of scissors, cutting off the sleeves, cutting most of the shirt away so that it looks like it has both a racer back and a racer front. When I put it on, my breasts are completely exposed, and the bottom is cropped to just above my navel. He takes off my bra and slips the shirt on me, then turns me around so Sam can see. ‘What do you say, Sam?’ he asks. ‘Panties on or panties off?’
Sam runs his eyes up and down me. He looks at me critically, like he’s a fashion designer and I’m a runway model, and this is the most important decision he’s had to make all day. I almost start laughing, his expression is so serious, so unexpected. Finally, he looks at Brad. ‘Off.’
Off come the panties. ‘You won her fair and square,’ Brad says, as if I’m not even there. ‘You get first dibs for the evening. I’m going to hang back and watch for a while, but I’ll probably take a turn later.
‘In case you’re wondering, we do just about everything on Wednesday nights. Dana likes to be spanked, if you’re into that. All the usual stuff. She’ll tell you. She’s terrific in bed, Sam. You won’t be disappointed.’
I smile at him. I’ve just been given an outstanding performance review. It makes me feel good to know that my man is so satisfied with what I give him. I hope he’ll be OK with what he’s about to watch.
Sam puts me on the bed. I think he and Brad have talked a lot about what Sam should expect, because he is already taking the upper hand, positioning me, not asking me what I want, what I like. It occurs to me that the stuff Brad has just said to him is more for my benefit, to put me at ease, to let me know what to expect. I’m grateful for it.
Brad sinks into the chair in the corner and Sam strips down to his skin. His erection is big – longer than Brad’s, although not quite as thick, I don’t think. He looks just as I had imagined he would, like he ought to be posing for Abercrombie or something. Abs for days. I can’t wait to take his cock in me.
He puts me on my back and starts licking my clit right off the bat, and I moan with pleasure. When his short beard scratches the inside of my thighs and roughs up my slit, I don’t even care – I’m too focused on the riot he has incited in me with his tongue. He teases me relentlessly until I feel like I’m going to come. Then he reaches up with his fingers and pinches my clit, and I do.
I don’t know whether it’s the excitement of sex with a new man, or the knowledge that Brad is watching from across the room, or just Sam’s mind-blowing technique, but I am coming hard, really