Taken

Selena Kitt
24 mins read
Published over 2 years ago
Chapter 4

Taken (Chapter 4)

The similarities between the night Sarah and I had first been together were eerie. It served to be quite a bookend to our relationship, I suppose. When the three of us emerged from the building, the sky was dark and had opened up in sheets of rain. We stood huddled in the alcove for a moment, and I gasped and moved instinctively closer to David when lightning struck not too far in the distance. He offered to go get his car and drive us all to Sarah’s, but she shook her head.

“No, I don’t want to leave my car here,” she said. “Hey, Lizzie, why don’t you ride with David? You can show him the way to my place, and I’ll stop and pick up a movie on the way.” 

I cocked an eyebrow at her and she just looked at me, steady. Okay, okay, so I was supposed to trust she knew what she was doing. I glanced at David and saw his disappointment at not riding with Sarah. I wondered if he could see mine… or if she could.

“Okay,” was all I could say. “We’ll see you there?”

“Yep.” She slipped off her heels, covered her head with her purse, and bolted for her car. The sight of her bare legs, the flash of skin under her skirt as she fled, her squeal at the stinging rain already soaking through her blouse, were enthralling. I looked over at David and saw the same thing in his eyes. What a pair we were.

“I’ll go get my car,” he said, not even looking at me. “You wait here.” I nodded and watched him walk through the parking lot while I stood in the corner of the alcove, just beginning to shiver. When he pulled up, he reached over and opened the door for me, and I slid inside. Just in the dash to the car door, I was soaked. It was warm and dry in the car, the heat already kicked up. I huddled against the door, my teeth chattering. He looked over at me and chuckled.

“Here,” he said kindly, reaching behind the seat and bringing forward his suit coat. “You look like a drowned kitten.” I tucked the jacket in around me. He was a big guy—it covered from just under my chin all the way to the middle of my shins—and although the outside was wet, the inside was dry, and brought a little more thankful warmth. 

He turned the radio on low, to the alternative station I always listened to, which surprised me. I instructed him slowly, in stages, on how to get to Sarah’s, and he followed the directions casually. Other than that we were pretty quiet. He hummed along to the songs, and I stole sideways glances at him in the dimness. His hair was even more curly when wet, it seemed, and in spite of myself, I had a sudden urge to finger one of those curls at the nape of his neck. He pulled up to Sarah’s apartment but he left the car running.

“Looks like she’s still at the video store,” I said.

“Do you have a key?” The awareness in his eyes was unmistakable. He knew. I shook my head, denying it, although I did have a key and he probably knew that, too. “Well… I guess we wait, then.”

The silence stretched and the rain fell steadily on the car roof. I looked up at the warm squares of apartment windows, wondering at the secret lives in each and if they compared in any way to the drama of my life in the past few months. I reached over to turn the radio up and he didn’t object. 

Oh Sarah, what was I thinking? I mused, finding her window, lowly lit on the second floor, the balcony glistening in the rain. I love you and he loves you and how in the world is this ever going to make any of us happy? I almost expected her to come out onto the balcony, a modern-day Juliet. Romeo was here, sitting next to me in his Lumina… but who was I? There was no part for me to play here.

A streak of lightning followed a powerful crack of thunder so swiftly they seemed simultaneous. I gasped, clutching at David’s sleeve. Storms always made me both exhilarated and uneasy with their sheer force, but this was so abrupt it more than startled me—I admit it, I panicked. 

The rain, which had been slowing a bit, instantly became a deluge, pouring over the windshield like a waterfall. Thunder rumbled again, and another bolt of lightning hit the ground in the middle of the field next to the apartment building. I gasped and jumped again. David instinctively put his arm around me and pulled me closer.

Then the hail started. The angry, tin-roof sound was deafening, and we watched as it hit the windshield and bounced off like ping-pong balls into the parking lot and onto the grass. It was surreal. Another clap of thunder had me whimpering and hiding my face against his shirt. He stroked my wet hair, cradling my head under his chin. He intuitively understood, I think, my reaction to the power of the storm. And I was thinking of Sarah, out in this by herself. Then I realized he probably was, too. 

“Shh.” He comforted me, his voice soothing and low. I hadn’t realized until he said something that I was still whimpering. “It’s letting up. It’ll be over soon.” 

He was right. The deeper sound of the hail was slowing, replaced by the lighter sound of rain. As the storm ebbed, I slowly became aware of his body against mine. He’d pulled me in tight to comfort me, and we sat thigh to thigh, my cheek resting on his damp shirt. The steady sound of his heartbeat calmed me. 

I became aware of a few dark curly hairs framed by the edges of his white button down shirt where he’d undone the top two after taking off his tie—obviously all before I got into the car. I hadn’t noticed before. His hand was still in my hair, and I heard and felt him inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of me. I closed my eyes for a moment and simply let myself feel him, solid and warm, his breathing a little quicker now, his hand moving to my shoulder and squeezing slightly. It felt good. More than that—it felt right. 

I tilted my head to look up at him, the outline of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He met my eyes and the power of what I saw there made me weaker and more afraid than I’d been a few minutes ago during the storm. I flushed with anticipation and he smiled, his eyes even darker, wolfish in their sudden hunger. How had we gone from me huddling against the door, jealous and petulant and as far away from him as I could get, to this warm and intimate embrace? Ten minutes ago I thought the distance between us was immeasurable. A thunderclap later, I realized, the actual distance was just a tug and slide across the leather seat and the inner distance was really much, much less than that.

Both of us startled when Sarah knocked briefly on the window and continued on to the apartment’s main door. We both quickly and a little guiltily untangled ourselves, and I silently handed his jacket back. I saw Sarah silhouetted in the doorway, waiting for us.

“Still raining. Why don’t you wear it in?” he offered, slipping it around my shoulders. He pulled my hair out from under the collar in a sweeping motion, a sweet and intimate gesture. The feel of his hand brushing against the back of my neck made me close my eyes for a brief second in response.

“Thanks. C’mon, let’s run for it.” 

It was still pouring when we opened our respective doors and bolted toward Sarah. We met at the front of the car, and he grabbed my hand mid-run and pulled me, faster, toward our end point. We were both laughing when we reached her, and I doubled over, a sharp stitch in my side, as we crowded in the entryway. Sarah smiled and looked back and forth between us, seeing David search my eyes out as we caught our breath and noting the connection there. In that instant I realized what she’d done, sending me to ride with him, and I marveled at her intuition. 

We found our way to her apartment, which was as familiar to me as home now. Sarah told David to make himself comfortable and we went to change. Her work clothes gave way to a pair of blue sweats and a U of M t-shirt. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were still hard from her run through the rain. 

She offered me her robe while my clothes dried. I was struck with an eerie sense of déjà vu as I slipped on her old terrycloth robe, pale pink and fraying at the edges, the most un-sexy thing I could imagine. I sighed as I tossed my blouse and skirt—which I’d been so sure would entice home some young hottie tonight—into the dryer. 

Sarah slipped her hands under my robe before I tied it, one hand kneading the sensitive flesh of my belly just above my pubic hair, the other slipping behind me to my lower back. I knew everything I was feeling showed in my eyes because I could see it reflected in her own, and she kissed my eyelids closed and then kissed my mouth, a gentle, tender and reassuring kiss. 

I breathed a shaky sigh and she spent a moment feathering kisses on the sweet spot on my neck, just below and behind my ear, which she knew made me instantly wet. Her hand on my belly kneaded lower, slipping under the elastic of my panties and through my pubic hair. 

I heard and felt her breath quicken with my own when she found and parted my pussy lips, slipping two fingers through my slit, one on each side of my already swollen clit. I moaned when she wiggled her fingers and she stopped the sound with her mouth against mine. I wondered at her boldness, and glanced toward the door, which was open, but out of the line of sight of the living room where we’d left David. 

Her two fingers moved easily—so wet already!—and found the thin and sensitive sheath of skin covering my clit. The sensation was exquisite, her touch practiced and deft. She applied just a small amount of pressure to the tiny bud of flesh, not so much directly on my clit, just allowing that sweet layer of skin to do the work, rubbing it in slow and easy circles with the flat of her fingers. 

Her hand on my lower back allowed her to guide me, support me, and I let my head fall back, pushing my hips forward to meet her hand. She pushed me back against the wall, making faster circles now, easing me gently upward. She pressed her mouth to my ear so I could feel her breath and I whimpered. My nipples rubbed against the terrycloth as I rocked my hips, and I sighed when she slipped both fingers down and pressed them into me as deeply as she could. 

“He’s got a big, hard cock for you, Lizzie,” she whispered, stretching me open even further with both fingers, and then slowly sliding in a third. My eyes flew open at the sensation and the thought. “Do you want it?” She moved her fingers in and out of me, deeply. I rocked rhythmically with her, trying not to make too much noise. 

“Do you want that cock, Lizzie? Tell me,” she demanded, fucking me harder. My eyes were slits, my mouth open, my head back. I imagined his cock sliding into me like that and flushed at the intensity of my own greed. 

“Yes, yes, Sarah, please,” I begged in a whisper. She pulled her fingers quickly from me and rubbed them against my mouth. The smell and taste of me made me suck and lick her fingers eagerly. She watched, delighted, her mouth making a perfect little “o” that I ached to kiss.

“Good girl,” she encouraged. She pulled my robe closed and tied it, a little roughly. “I rented ‘Henry and June.’” Her eyes were dancing, and I groaned. Sarah and I had watched it just three weeks ago, an incredibly erotic story of the love affair between Anais Nin and Henry Miller, and we’d had to stop the movie twice to play! I smiled to myself. Poor David didn’t have a clue what he was in for tonight…

I didn’t see David at first as we came out and Sarah angled for the kitchen. I noticed he’d started a fire—gone were the days when men had to actually use wood and matches, now they just flipped a switch! Then I saw him kind of squatting in front of it, warming his hands, and I imagined, hoping to dry his clothes a bit. I was stopped by the sight of him, his presence completely filling the room, the firelight flickering in his eyes and against his palms. 

Sarah moved past me, carrying something. “Here, go put these on,” she urged, handing him a pile of clothes. “My ex was about your size, I think.” He stood to accept them from her, and I noticed how their hands lingered for a moment, how his eyes sought hers, and I don’t know if he saw or felt it, but she was holding her breath. She let it out like a small sigh when he thanked her and moved past her, heading toward the bathroom. I’d never seen Sarah like this before. 

She busied herself with the movie, and I suggested we order a pizza. She nodded, going to get the number. As I snuggled into one end of the couch—“my” end—I heard her actually humming to herself in the kitchen. David joined her there. I could hear their voices, soft and conversational, and then I heard her low and seductive laugh. 

“What do you want on your pizza, Lizzie?” she asked as she pulled David toward the couch. I couldn’t take my eyes off their intertwined hands. David sat on the other end of the couch, Sarah between us. 

“The usual,” I replied coolly. She nodded, pursing her lips for a moment, and then ordered, two larges, just cheese for me on half of one, her usual (and strange) ham and pineapple, and a “loaded” pizza for David. We settled in to watch the movie, and when the pizza came, Sarah and David moved to the floor to eat, but I stayed on the couch, curled into my corner. 

I watched them picnicking together, eating out of the box, talking in low voices about Henry Miller—David thought he was adolescent and crude—and, since Anais was cheating on her husband with Henry in the movie, they talked about ex-husbands and ex-wives. 

I listened, watching the movie, feeling completely left out and inimitably sad. My half of the pizza finished, I licked my fingers like they were wounds and stretched out on the couch. I had it all to myself now. I watched half-lidded, seeing them having sex in an alley on the screen, her pinned up against the wall, and imagined a cock buried in me like that. Then I didn’t know if I was watching or dreaming. The warmth of the fire, my full belly, my eyes closed against the sight of Sarah and David together, all conspired to slip me toward sleep.

I dozed, in and out, waking slightly when Sarah moved past me, cleaning up pizza boxes. I saw David with his shirt off, wearing only a pair of sweats, and then slipped back toward dreaming. When I woke again, my eyes slowly flickering open, I thought I could still hear the soft cries of Anais in the movie, but when I looked, the screen was a clear blue. The movie had ended. Tilting my head slightly, I saw David and Sarah tangled together on the rug in front of the fire, kissing deeply. I bit my lip to keep from gasping out loud, and let my eyes fall back to slits, not wanting them to know I was awake. 

He kissed her mouth, her neck, and she made the soft, familiar cries I knew meant his hand was between her legs. I couldn’t see from this angle, his body blocked hers, but her thigh was up over his, and it was bare. Her hand was in that dark curly hair, moving down the strong muscles of his back. He moved on top of her then, still wearing sweats, and I saw she was completely nude. She opened her legs to take his weight, wrapping herself around him, all soft tawny limbs. He nuzzled her breasts, and groaned out loud when she fumbled past the elastic band of his sweats. 

“Shh.” Sarah glanced toward me on the couch. 

I looked at her through my lashes and held perfectly still, breathing deeply, as if still sleeping. She seemed satisfied, and I watched her hand begin to move rhythmically under his sweats as he held himself above her and thrust against her, his arms ropes of muscle in the firelight. 

I bit my lip, aching to see what she had in her hand. She moved out from under him, gently pushing on his chest, and he rolled easily to his back. His cock tented the fabric as she teased and rubbed with the flat of her palm. I heard his breathing getting faster and more rough. She eased down between his legs, kneeling there, and I saw in his eyes how beautiful he thought she was… and she was. 

His breath drew in sharply when she touched her own body, running her hands up over her breasts, lifting them, letting them fall. She stroked her belly, pulled at her downy, blonde pubic hair, cupped her pussy with her hand, and then used two fingers to spread it open for him. He nodded, watching her, sucking air through his teeth sharply when she eased his sweats down over his hips to let his cock spring free. I was stunned by the sweet length of it, by the pre-cum I saw glistening on the tip as Sarah rubbed a finger over and then lifted to her mouth to taste.

“I want your mouth,” he whispered, glancing at me, and I quickly assumed the through-my-eyelashes vision and deep breathing routine, although it was getting more difficult to breathe normally as I watched them. 

Sarah glanced at me, too, then back at him. She smiled and nodded, but didn’t take him in her mouth but her hand, rubbing the tip with her palm at first, then grasping it firmly and stroking. His eyes closed as he made a small growl sound at the back of his throat with every stroke. His head started to move from side to side, his breath coming faster, and she slowed, pulling the skin down tight. 

“Yes,” he whispered when she ran the fingers of her other hand over his balls, cupping them, rubbing them gently. Seeing her do that, watching the hunger in her eyes as she looked at the length of his cock, made my whole body tingle. She leaned over it, blowing on it, kissing the tip gently, and then took the length of it into her mouth. It simply disappeared. His head went back, mouth open, his hips instinctively pushing toward her and his hand going to her head. 

I watched her, eager, my eyes wide open now but knowing their focus was fully on each other. I watched her take him into her mouth over and over, his hand buried in her hair. She stopped, licking the tip, licking her lips, and I saw how red and swollen her mouth was from him, like she’d just eaten cherries. I shifted on the couch, and felt my clit throb in response. I wanted to touch it, rub it, but didn’t want to call attention to myself. 

She eased her way up his body, straddling him, with his cock pulsing against her belly. He reached up to cup her breasts, thumbing the nipples and making her rock gently against him, moaning softly. She moved up onto her knees, reaching down to take him in her hand, rubbing the length of him against her pussy, through her slit. 

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a cock in me,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. His hands were on her hips, rocking her gently. 

“Do you want it?” he asked softly. 

She nodded, closing her eyes, and then he did something that surprised me and surprised her, too, I think. He shifted his weight, moving her off of him, and repositioned himself in behind her as she was kneeling. He pressed himself against her from behind, running his hands over her body, from her breasts to between her legs, not stopping to concentrate on one thing, simply exploring her quickly but thoroughly with his hands. He pushed her forward onto her hands and knees, and she looked back over her shoulder at him, biting her lip. His cock was standing straight up, pulsing, and the sight of it resting against her ass was thrilling to me.

I struggled to control my breathing as I slid my hand through the slit in the front of the robe, under the elastic of my panties, to find my aching clit as I watched him take his cock into his hand and rub it against her ass. His pre-cum glistened there in the firelight. He grabbed her hips and positioned her. I heard her whimper, but she arched her back, giving him better access. He looked down at her, spreading her cheeks open with his hands, using his fingers to spread her pussy. I couldn’t see it, I could only see them from the side, but I knew what he was doing, and saw him looking intensely at her little hole. 

“Please,” she moaned. “Ohhh, David, please, put it in me.” 

It seemed to be what he was waiting for. He grabbed his cock and slid it through her and then into her. She shuddered and gasped, moving back to meet him. He grunted, grabbing her hips to steady her, easing slowly back out. I saw her juices slick on him as he did, and it made my mouth water, for her pussy or his cock, I wasn’t sure which. 

I tried to be quiet, moving just my fingers lightly, almost imperceptibly, over my clit, keeping my breathing deep, but I couldn’t seem to help it from becoming faster and harder as I watched him start to fuck her. Sarah mewled, really like a cat, and the familiar sound of it went straight to my core. 

He’d started slow, moving easily—I could hear how wet she was!—in and out, and she’d moved from her soft sighs to the kitteny kinds of sounds she made, but the intensity was building. He wasn’t going easy anymore, he wasn’t being gentle, he was really slamming hard into her now, and this started eliciting deeper sounds from her. They had completely forgotten me. 

David suddenly grabbed her thigh and somehow maneuvered her so she was rolling over and onto her back, without ever sliding out of her. He pushed his hips hard forward to make sure, balls-deep, and she gasped. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, my fingers moving just a little faster on my clit, making delicious circles there. 

His hands, large, strong hands, I noticed, lifted her ass a little, pulling her in closer. She put both legs up, and he leaned into her, letting her legs fall over his shoulders. He was working hard now, and she was taking him, each stroke from tip to base, again and again. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t come. How could he fuck her like that, so persistently, and not come? My clit throbbed with the urge, and I had to press it hard and wait, my breath lost in the sound of their sex, but he seemed undaunted.

She moaned fully now, eyes closed, lost in sensation. I saw him in the firelight, focusing on her face, watching every movement, seeing and reveling in her pleasure. Something he saw made him shift his weight, not slowing in the least. Her eyes flew open and she clutched at him, her nails digging into his biceps. He held her gaze with his as he moved more deeply into her, and I watched her open, her legs shifting, widening, her whole posture changing, receiving him. 

What I saw made my breath change. Something had completely shifted in the room. It was different now, his movements, her response. He was still fucking her, hard, but where she’d been tight, focused, trying to maintain control before, now it was like he was fucking her wide open, more open than I’d ever seen her before. 

“Good, yes,” he encouraged her lowly, and she moaned. 

My fingers moved furiously over my clit, watching and wanting to feel what she was feeling, seeing it in her face, hearing it in the throaty sound of her voice. I’d never seen Sarah like this, so soft and unconcealed, so abandoned. She’d never given herself to me like this. In fact, I’d never seen anyone give themselves over quite like this, and something deep within me ached to surrender to it. 

“David… David…” She softly repeated his name, her head moving from side to side, eyes closed, lost in her own pleasure. 

”Look at me,” he insisted, and I saw her hesitate, perhaps not wanting to pull herself out or give herself over. “Sarah, look in my eyes.” 

Slowly, she did, and he nodded, their eyes locked. He had nearly stopped now, just barely moving into her. I was three feet away and I felt the energy between them, the deep connection, and I ached for it. God, I wanted him to touch me, fuck me, look at me, look through me and into me, just that way.

He began moving again, and she met him, with her body, with her eyes. They rocked together, and with every movement I saw her opening more, giving more of herself over to him, matching his movements, his breath. Her hands dug deep into his shoulders, pulling him closer and closer, his weight fully on her now as they moved together, almost like one body, one entity, merged and slick with sweat. 

My fingers on my clit matched their intensity, their speed, my eyes full of the sight of them in the firelight even when I closed them. Watching Sarah with a man was beyond my expectations or my fantasies. I’d never imagined her like this, so soft, open, surrendered to both the sensation and to the man inside of her. The difference was startling and exciting to me. 

“David, so close,” she whispered and I heard him take a deep, sustained breath as she began to buck and moan. 

“Come,” he said. “Here. Right here… into my eyes… into my mouth.” 

He held her chin with one hand, finding her mouth with his, looking into her eyes as she came. Her familiar intake of and held breath, following by her shuddering sighs were missing. Her sound, muffled against his mouth, was low and seemed to spread out, like waves or ripples on water, until I could feel it tingling through my whole body as I listened to her orgasm. 

I expected him to speed up, to push hard into her and come, too, but he didn’t. His breath was slow and even, barely moving on her now, riding the waves of her orgasm. Her eyes finally fluttered closed and she turned her face toward me, flushed and open-mouthed. He placed a hand on the center of her chest and she gasped and nearly sobbed, eyes opening in surprise. 

And she was looking right into my bewildered and captivated eyes. 

Then David turned to look at me, and the intensity and knowing in his gaze left me without breath or words. There was nothing to say, but with both of them focused now fully on me, I felt myself flushing and swallowing hard. Sarah reached her hand out to me, opening and closing her fist like a child asking for a piece of candy. David pressed her arm to her side, kneeling up between her legs. I saw his erection, wet with her juices, still hard, waning only slightly as it pulsed against the apex of her thighs.

I felt paralyzed and full of a deep longing I didn’t understand. David seemed to know this, and he moved toward me. My robe was quickly opened and, as his eyes swept my body, I felt my throat constrict, watching his glistening cock grow fatter and more present at the sight of me. He tugged at my panties, and they disappeared over the swell of my thighs, sticking a little at the knees. Then he gathered me up like a little bit of fluff, leaving my robe on the couch, and laid me next to Sarah on the rug. 

For a moment I was sure he didn’t know what to do with the both of us naked there in front of him. His eyes weren’t sure where to travel, distracted by the rise and fall of her breasts, by the wetness spreading to my thighs, until his eyes found hers and she slowly smiled at him. She was lightly stroking the top of my thigh, her hand warm and soft. Then his eyes found mine and I thought I would drown or be consumed by my own hunger, my ache and longing to be his. The world was spinning lazy circles around me and all I knew was David.

Everything he did, every movement he made, seemed full of purpose and intent. I gasped as his hands pressed my thighs open, his eyes never leaving mine. I thought he was just going to enter me immediately and I was braced for it, barely breathing, eyes wide, but his large, rough hands kneaded my flesh, digging deeply into my thighs, and I found myself opening wider, my thighs parting and parting like I couldn’t open enough. Sarah stroked my arm, my side, the underside of my breast, her tenderness a direct contrast to his force, her coaxing me at the same time as he was easing me more and more toward an edge of wildness where I found myself afraid to open my eyes.

But David made me open them, keep them open and focused on him, on his eyes, seeking to take me somewhere I’d never been, somewhere I ached to go, a place I was desperate for and at the same time terrified of. And when I looked over at Sarah, pleading with my eyes, I saw she knew, she understood, and I felt the shift in her, knowing suddenly she was allowing all of this because she wanted it for me, but more—it wasn’t in her control anymore. 

It was then that the trembling started, and I wanted to crawl away, hide. I felt too raw and bare, vulnerable and exposed before them both. And I don’t know how he knew what to do, but David took my hands and raised them above my head and pressed his body weight against me, not completely, but enough, holding both of my wrists in his one hand, and he kissed me. It was like falling, like disappearing, like I’d found the edge of that precipice and leaped, or been pushed, and there was nowhere else to go but the bottomless depth that his mouth, the weight of him, the thick hardness resting against my thigh, all pressed me towards. 

Suddenly all appetite, I was eager and moaning, sucking at his tongue, my shaking thighs clasped around him as if I could force him to enter me, take me. I felt him smile against my mouth, and he nuzzled my jaw, my neck, whispering something I couldn’t hear, but I felt it all through my body, almost a chant, murmured over and over. I felt my body respond, buzzing still but less frantic for him, now more of a yearning breathing me wide open. He whispered, “Good,” against my ear and I thought the heat of that praise would melt me into a small puddle on the rug.

I relaxed into his exploration of my body, the murmur of his mouth against my skin, the delicious heat spreading thick like honey or syrup everywhere he touched me. I found myself calling for him, as I’d heard Sarah do, “David, David,” my head moving side to side, eyes closed and lost in the sensation. 

Then he was above me again, urging me to open my eyes, to see him, and my breath went away the moment I did. I felt more naked than I’d ever been before and closed my eyes again. He kissed my eyelids and whispered, “Elizabeth,” my full name, “open your eyes,” and it wasn’t a request. I couldn’t deny him. I whimpered, and he let more of him press into me, the weight of him, his chest, his belly. I felt his cock resting against my wetness and moaned. 

And we were there, I don’t know how long, his breath matching mine. He was somehow breathing me, entering me with his breath, with his eyes, and I felt something within me break open, dissolve. It was only then that he pushed into me, the size and feel of him a force beyond any physical sensation I’d ever known. This wasn’t sex—this wasn’t anything like I’d experienced, the urgent, quick fumblings in the backseat or the groping and poking in the basement with Tim—this was like fucking the universe, being fucked by the entire cosmos. There was no me and no him, and it was all me and all him and I knew nothing else.

His rhythm was slow at first, and I squeezed myself around him, wanting more, more, more. His movements were controlled but responsive, feeding me a little at a time, as if I were a baby bird, just one enormous, eager hunger. I thought fleetingly of Sarah’s poem, and finally understood.

I wiggled and moaned, reaching up for him and wrapping my arms around his shoulders, his neck, my fingers slipping through his curls, and he let me pull him close, closer, and then… then pushed even further into me. Oh God, I didn’t realize he’d been holding back the length of him until he fully entered me and the sound that came out of my throat was from some other girl, someone I didn’t know, a raw and low and aching sound. 

And then he teased me again, only giving me part of him, slow, shallow thrusts, making me pant and squirm and beg beneath him, until finally he moved deeper, harder into me, his arms gathering me toward him, pressing me against his chest, his face buried in my hair. I heard myself moaning from far away, and felt a jolt, like a current, go through me when he would, every now and then, make a small grunting noise and stop for a moment, poised just at the entrance of me, breathing hard. If I wiggled then or pressed upward, his mouth would set in a thin line, his eyes would roll back under their lids, and his breath would simply disappear. And then he’d start again, all deep, even strokes, urging me higher, my whole body buzzing and alive. 

I realized I was waiting for him, testing him, teasing him, squeezing him. Tim couldn’t last longer than five minutes tops—he always seemed lost the minute he slid into the smooth slickness of me. I didn’t expect things to last, considering how long David had been with Sarah. And somehow I think he knew it. 

He had that small smile as he fucked me—God how he fucked me!—watching me through those half-lidded, dark eyes. It was like he was waiting, and I think he was. Waiting for me to give up, to give in, to find the rhythm and rock with him, and finally, I did. I lost myself completely, and yet I was always aware of how he was filling me, moving me, pushing me. 

And then he found just the right spot, moving his cock down and into me, nudging against my clit, again and again and again, but it was when his mouth found my nipples, already painfully pursed and hard, that I felt the last bits of me go. He became hungry, greedy for them, pressing my breasts together and licking them both like tiny cherries. Just watching his tongue lapping, feeling the tickle between my legs growing, flushing my whole body with feeling, pushed me over. I called his name and he looked up at me, nodding, not stopping his motion or his licking, in fact moving just a little more, just a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper, and I found it, the unending place I’d been searching for in his eyes, and I went.

He gave me that orgasm, gave it to me like a gift, and it went on and on, like I was breaking against a shoreline again and again. It crashed and rippled and swirled through me until I shook with the force of it. And I never lost sight of him, the man inside of me, aware of every movement, every feeling, like there was no longer any boundary between us—we were truly one thing.

He watched me, my breath slowing, as he settled himself beside me on an elbow, the coolness of the air on my sweat-beaded skin like a thousand icy kisses. I was floating, still filled with the warmth of his soft praise and his steady hands. It was then I became aware of Sarah, oh my Sarah, watching us, watching me, like she was seeing a flower open for the first time in her life. I wondered if that had been the look on my face when her eyelids had fluttered open to find me watching her with David, that hungry, awed, rapture of attention. I thought it probably was. 

I reached my arm out for her and she snuggled into my other side. I looked back and forth between them with nothing short of wonder and awe. I didn’t realize until later, it was sort of like being a child in my parent’s bed when I was very, very little. They were both looking at me with such soft, open tenderness and love. I felt completely filled. Then Sarah’s eyes shifted to David, and I saw it again, some longing or ache for him I couldn’t share, and when I looked to him, I found it there, too, and felt it more keenly, my jealousy, like a thing outside of me creeping in.

I swallowed it down. I tried hard, feeling suddenly cold. Sarah reached over my body and I thought she was going to hold me, but her hand found his cock. Oh my God, I felt it. He was still hard and she smiled as she touched him, stroking him against my thigh. His breath came a little faster, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, and I watched her watching him, saw the yearning in her eyes, felt her breath matching his, and felt my own building to match theirs. 

Sarah didn’t stop touching him, but she leaned down and kissed me. The softness of her, the yielding ripeness of her mouth, was so different and exciting to me. I moaned as she kissed my nipples, soft, feathery kisses, and my body responded instantly, feeling her hair brush over my chest and my belly. I looked down at her hand on his cock and wanted it, too. 

I reached for him, covering her hand with mine and she smiled at me and then up at him. His eyes registered his delight, his anticipation, seeing both of our hands entwined, moving together along the shaft. Sarah moved to the other side of him, so now he was between us. She edged down his body to lick the tip of his cock, and I felt her tongue move over my fingers. She kissed and licked him, just over the head, as our hands moved faster. I couldn’t resist touching my tongue to his small, soft brown nipple, and moaned when I felt it harden. 

David’s hand reached out to Sarah, pulling her hips toward him, so she was kneeling up, her mouth still licking at his cock, but he could reach her wetness now, and he wanted it. I watched his fingers probe her open, rubbing along the soft blonde hair, slipping inside of her. The deeper his fingers went, the further she swallowed him until our hands were just encircling the base, keeping his cock steady. 

I wanted his fingers, too, and maneuvered myself so I was in the same position as Sarah on the other side of him, arching my back, spreading my thighs a little, offering myself to him. Sarah’s mouth moved over his cock, kissing and nibbling, and as my eyes met hers, I leaned in to kiss her over the tip of him. He moaned at the sensation of both of our mouths moving, our tongues finding each other, and that’s when his fingers found me, too, easing through the wetness he’d created, probing the deepest parts of me. I gasped and wiggled, pushing back against him. 

I don’t know how long we took turns taking the length of him while he held each of us in his hands. I liked sliding my tongue down to suck his balls, feeling the weight of them, drawing the loose, soft fuzzy skin into my mouth. We drove him to distraction, I could tell by the way his fingers lost focus inside of me and became driven, mindless pounding against my flesh. It made me even wetter—I felt it seeping down my thighs. Sarah moaned around his cock, and I could tell she was very close to coming from his fingers. She let her flushed cheek rest against his thigh as he took her there, and I took the opportunity to take him fully into my mouth. 

Watching her orgasm was so sweet, and I felt his fingers just toying with me while he concentrated on her. I put my energy into sucking him, tasting him, feeling him pulse and swell in my mouth. He moaned and thrust, spurred on by her orgasm. I felt his balls tightening under my fingers. I ached to feel him flood over my tongue and worked harder. 

He grunted, shifting his weight a little. He was struggling, working not to come, I could feel it. Sarah’s hand was on mine then, massaging his balls. She moved between his legs, stretching herself out between them, and her tongue meshed with mine around his cock. I mirrored her position, stretched out against his other leg, squeezed in against her softness, and he sat up on his elbows, looking down at us. 

I could imagine what we looked like. I’d seen us in mirrors, our energy together, dancing at the club, and watched us naked in the mirror over Sarah’s bed, a vision, and now our mouths red and swollen from sucking him, our pussies wet and satisfied but our eyes still hungry for him, blonde and red hair mingling as we gently fought over his cock. He watched for a moment, bemused, then moved so he was leaning back against the couch, his hands finding our hair, moving our heads. I gasped out loud when he pulled me back by my hair—it wasn’t hard, but hard enough—and aimed his cock into Sarah’s mouth. 

She swallowed him eagerly, expertly, and he moved his fingers then over my cheek, to my lips, rubbing them, letting me lick his fingers, suck them. That sensation alone made him moan out loud, and his eyes rolled back slightly, his body shaking a little. He grabbed Sarah’s hair then, pulling her back like he’d pulled me, and pressed me toward him. I was less sure, but hungry, and sucked him hard, liking the feeling of him moving in my mouth, the warm flood of pre-cum now and then spurring me on.

“Ah Lizzie,” he moaned, pulling out of my mouth, and the sound of my name, the sound of his voice, made me flush. “Girl, you’re too much.” 

My whole body smiled. If I’d been a dog tail, I would have been furiously wagging. He touched my lips, tenderly, my cheeks, my eyelids, my hair. “I’m going to fuck Sarah,” he told me, I think by way of explanation. I nodded, acquiescing, moving aside, and somehow Sarah just knew what he wanted, and moved to her hands and knees, hugging a large pillow from the couch beneath her.

“Lizzie, get the K-Y from the drawer,” she murmured. I reached over to the end table and pulled it out. I’d always teased her about it—it seemed too naughty, having it anywhere but the bathroom or the bedroom—but she insisted on having it everywhere we might use it, and that included there in front of the fireplace.

David kneeled up and offered the length of himself to me. I kissed and nibbled at him first, flicking open the tube and warming some in my hands. Then I slid my hands over him, up and down. He swallowed hard, his eyes closing again. Then he took aim, and my mouth opened slightly, incredulous, as he slid the tip upward from the pink wetness of her pussy toward the small, puckered hole above. I felt my whole body tense and go cold. 

Sarah waited, her thighs trembling slightly, and she gasped as he started, easing his weight slowly, slowly forward, pressing into her. Her hands curled into fists on the pillow beneath her, and she bit her lip. At first I was concerned, appalled, aghast, watching him push inch by inch into a place so dark, so secret… I couldn’t even have imagined this happening. But Sarah moaned, winced, moaned again, whispered, “Yes, more,” and he listened to her, placed his hand underneath her belly and stilled her, until finally he was completely buried inside of her. 

“David, God, yes,” she moaned, looking back at him. “Fuck my ass.” 

The words thrilled me, and so did the guttural cry she gave when he began to move. My still K-Y wet hands moved immediately between my own legs as I knelt, watching. David glanced at me, his eyes drinking me in. Then he was focused again on Sarah, his movements slow and shallow at first, like he had been inside of me, then deeper, harder, as she moaned and bucked, urging him on. 

His hands moved to her hips, taking her, pushing her, and she gasped, groaned, begged, please, please, his name rolling off her tongue over and over like water. I saw her slide her fingers into her pussy as he fucked her. My own fingers on my clit worked furiously, unable to believe the stretch of her, taking him, again and again, imagining what it must feel like to be so wide open in such a vulnerable place. And then Sarah was coming, rubbing herself and coming hard. I saw her muscles squeezing, squeezing him. 

David moaned, and somehow crossed a line, calling her name. He slid his cock almost all the way out of her, letting that ring of flesh rub just against the tip of him, in and out, and then he was coming, too. I watched him flood out of her, the sticky white stuff sliding slowly down her slit toward where her fingers were pressed to her clit. The sight of his cum, seeing his head thrown back, watching his cock pulse and twitch, sent me over my own edge, and I let my orgasm ease its way through me slowly, throbbing, trembling, until I collapsed on the rug next to Sarah, moving in to share her pillow. 

She smiled, looking at me through half-closed eyes. “Was it worth it?” she whispered hoarsely. I looked up at David, still holding her hips and looking down at both of us. His eyes were on her, like he could swallow her whole. I had a feeling this was going to cost me a great deal, but I just whispered, “yes,” and kissed her cheek. 

David made his way down to the pillow between us, pulling us both in, and we fit perfectly against his chest. I think we dozed, on and off, but we made love for hours again that night, she and he and I, in so many ways and so many positions I forgot where any of us began or ended.

And we were together a few more times that summer, but something was growing large between David and Sarah, and edging me further out. When I left for college that year, my goodbye to Sarah was bittersweet. She was nonchalant about it, but I like to think now it was just a defense, that she didn’t really want to let me go. My goodbye to David was harder, somehow. He held me and rocked me and I knew he knew, how much I loved them both, how much I wanted, how impossible it all was.

I never saw her again, after all that. We said we’d keep in touch, but life happened. And, as Sarah once said, it pretty much sucked. And it kept on sucking. Tim and I broke up, and I found a new boyfriend, someone older, more experienced. Then Sarah moved out of state. She gave me a forwarding address, but I couldn’t find the words to write. It just wasn’t the same. I didn’t know if David went with her, or perhaps… she went with David.

Until one afternoon a few years ago, I saw David in Logan airport being frisked by TSA with a toddler in tow. The little girl was blonde, blue-eyed, the sweetest baby I’d ever seen, even with a ring of chocolate around her perfect, pink rosebud mouth. She looked just like her mother, and I knew, even before David saw me, met my eyes, smiled and waved.

They had found their happy ending.