Idk dude

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Tagging some people who might want to play again (because you all did way too good in the last one...)

@kirsteng42

@din-cognito

@tateypots

@jessthebaker

@sawymredfox

@bergamote-catsandbooks

@katw474

@paradiselady19

@theanothersherlockian

@rebel-held

@grogusmum

@oonajaeadira

@just-ashlee

@time-for-my-weekly-spanking

@aurorawritestoescape

@imaswellkid

@simpingforjoel

@sunnytuliptime

@missredherring

@clawdee

@burntheedges

@lady-bess

You feel a tug in your chest as you remember Frankie’s blindingly happy smile as he kissed you in your bathroom before hopping in the shower with you. When you exited, Joel had remade the bed with new sheets and was fluffing your pillows. You’d invited Frankie to sleep with the two of you, but he declined, explaining he had to be up early to go on a hike with his Delta Force friend Will, who happened to be in town as well. He would be spending most of the day with him, since it had been years since the last time they saw each other. When he kissed your forehead good night and squeezed Joel’s bicep affectionately, you saw a flash of his characteristic reservation in his eyes. You knew Frankie didn’t want to overstep, despite your invitation, and you allowed him the space to ease into this new dynamic. 

But seeping through those delicate emotions you’ve yet to untangle is the hot flow of arousal from other memories of last night. 

Joel’s hands on you while Frankie’s tongue invaded your mouth. The feel of both of their bodies against you as they stripped you bare. Joel’s booming “Stop, Frankie”. Frankie’s desperate eyes as he admitted to only wanting to make you come over and over. Joel’s thick cock inside of you and Frankie’s hot mouth sucking at your clit. The way Joel looked absolutely wrecked as Frankie tongued his shaft. The moans of pleasure from your two loves. The feeling of their releases mixing together and dripping out of you.

Frankie, Joel, and you may be still navigating the emotional aspects of your dynamic, but the physicality is clearly on the right path.

You slowly grind your naked body against your husband’s, arousal flowing through your veins from the memories. Joel rumbles a groan, the sound vibrating his chest against your back. His hands awaken and begin tracing heated patterns across your skin. When his calloused fingers pinch and squeeze your tits, you let out a quiet moan, the sound warbled with sleepiness. Your slick has already begun to collect in your folds.

Joel gently rubs his beard across the soft skin of your neck. “Good mornin’, angel,” he purrs, continuing his exploration of your curves and causing your breath to catch on whimpers. “So needy f’me already?” His voice is grit and velvet, his accent always thickest in the morning and when he’s turned on.

“Mhmm,” you whine softly, draping your leg over the top of his, opening yourself up for him. He slides his palm down your belly to the heated pulse at the apex of your thighs and hisses at what he finds. 

“Fuck, so goddamn wet,” Joel breathes. He teasingly traces the pads of his fingers around your entrance, softly circling your clit to draw out more moans from you. Tapping his fingers softly on your slick pussy lips, he revels in the wet, sticky sounds. 

“Roll over f’me,” he commands, and you oblige, knowing exactly how he wants you. He hands you a pillow, which you slide under your hips. Joel kneels behind you, placing his knees on either side of yours and tipping your hips up to expose your glistening center to him. He parts your folds with his thumbs, admiring the view of your dripping entrance. Your husband hums in approval.

What you expect next is his thick tip sliding along your slit. Instead, you feel him lick a hot stripe between your thighs.

“Joel!” you keen, feeling yourself drip more.

A deep groan escapes his lips. “Y’still taste like us,” he says, and laps at you again. “Came so deep in ya that this pussy’s still holdin’ onto our cum. Jesus.”

Your gasp turns into a moan, and you reach behind you to thread your fingers through his greying curls while he continues to feast on you. The tendrils of an orgasm begin to wrap around your lower belly, until Joel pulls back. You whine in protest.

Joel chuckles. “Patience,” he tuts, then lines himself up at your entrance. You push your hips backwards in blind desire. He slides his length along your folds to lubricate himself in your essence and the remnants of his and Frankie’s releases. 

Then, inch by inch, Joel feeds you his throbbing cock.

You luxuriate in the warm familiarity of his girth stretching you pleasurably. Your walls pulse around him with every movement, slickening further.

Groaning, he keeps slowly pushing in. “Y’always take me so well,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ pussy was made for me, huh?” He litters gentle kisses across your back, his forearms caging you in. 

“Yes, Joel,” you whimper compliantly, drunk on the feeling of him sliding inside. “All for you.”

“What about Frankie, baby?” Joel asks. “Ain’t he allowed to fuck you, too?”

Your heart stutters, not expecting the question. Joel feels you tense up and stops the movement of his hips. 

He leans forward, closer to your face and tips your head to the side. “Look at me, honey.” Your eyes flit up to meet his own, not sure what to expect on his face. But you’re met with the warm umber of his irises, nothing but love and a little mischief in them.

“Tell me,” he implores. “Use your words.”

You inhale, insides twisting a little with warring guilt and desire. “Yes, Joel,” you answer quietly. “Frankie gets to fuck me, too.”

“Gets to?” Joel huffs in amusement. “Don’t it feel good when he fucks you? Don’t you want him to fuck you?” His eyes never leave yours. 

You’re not sure how to answer. Of course you want Frankie to fuck you. Joel knows as much from last night. He watched you spread your thighs for Frankie, heard how you moaned when the other man sunk deep into your cunt, brought you to your peak by rubbing your clit in tandem with Frankie’s thrusts. But why does he need to hear the words from your lips?

“Hey,” Joel interrupts your thoughts. You blink when you feel his thumbs caressing your hips. “If I didn’t wanna know, I wouldn’t ask ya.” He clocks your hesitation, knows precisely what your mind is churning around. 

“Do you want to stop and talk?” he asks, moving to pull out from you. Hastily, you grab his wrist and shake your head. Joel chuckles a bit, but remains sheathed inside you, patiently waiting for your words.

You take a deep breath. “Yes, Joel,” you exhale out. “I love how Frankie fucks me.” You feel Joel’s cock jump inside you, and a small gasp tears out of your lungs.

Joel is actually getting off on hearing you talk about fucking Frankie.

Joel groans, slipping himself inside you to the hilt, gripping and massaging your cheeks with strong hands. “Fuck, angel,” he curses, barely withdrawing before thrusting forward, pressing right against your sweet spot. 

A moan unabashedly exits your mouth, and Joel whines. 

“What do you like about him fucking you?” Joel presses, setting a slow but deep pace. One hand grips your hip as the other arm braces against the bed. His voice has a ragged edge to it, and you feel him throbbing within you.

“I like… I like how desperate he can be to get inside of me,” you pant, core dripping more slick as Frankie’s fucked-out expression from last night flashes through your head. Joel grunts, fingers digging harder into your skin. 

“What else?” he grits out, his own breathing heavy against your back. “Do you like it when he spreads you wide to look at that gorgeous pussy?”

You keen, cunt clenching on Joel’s length as you remember Frankie parting your thighs to watch Joel’s cum seep out of you. “Yes,” you admit. “He likes seeing me all messy. Likes watching cum drip out of me.”

Joel moans into the skin between your shoulder blades, his pace beginning to pick up. His cock massages that spot in your front wall that makes your nerves sing in pleasure. You decide to explore the observation you made last night.

“You made the prettiest noises when Frankie licked you, baby,” you croon. Joel chokes on his next moan. You feel his cock swell harder inside you.

Bingo.

“Did you like Frankie’s mouth on you?” you implore, pushing back against his thrusts to get him even deeper. Your cunt grips him, a velvet-lined vice. 

A hoarse whimper escapes his lips. “Fuck,” he grits out, collapsing onto both forearms on either side of your head, working his cock into you over and over. His forehead presses against your back.

“Use your words, Joel,” you remind him, smirking at getting to use his own lines on him.

“Yes,” Joel responds with difficulty. “It felt so good. Like when you lick me, but… different. His tongue felt different.” His hips slap sticky-sweet against the supple flesh of your ass, your slick coating the both of you.

You’re on an absolute high now. “Do you want Frankie to suck your cock?” you ask your husband. He whines in response, hips thrusting harder into you. Your pussy spasms at the delicious display of his raw power.

“Fuck… yes,” Joel cries. His pants have a whimpering edge to them. He’s coming completely undone at the thought of your boyfriend wrapping his lips around his dick. “I’ve never… I….” he stutters, grappling with the ramifications of what he’s admitting.

You shush him gently. “It’s okay, honey, you don’t have to worry about it. Just think about how it feels.” As Joel keeps pounding into you, your hand slips under your hips to rub at your clit. The dual sensations ignite the fuse of your orgasm.

“So good,” Joel whimpers. “It felt so good to be inside you while Frankie had his mouth on me.” He’s frantic now, a harmony of moans erupting from both of you.

“Joel, oh fuck,” you cry out, “you’re gonna make me come. Don’t stop!” Three more thrusts and your release bursts forth, shimmering across your limbs. You press your face into the mattress to muffle your screams, and Joel follows suit quickly. Moaning your name, he empties himself into you, loud whimpers falling from his mouth with each spurt. 

As your crests wane, you relax into each other. Joel gingerly rolls the two of you to the side, then slips out of you with a groan. He pads over to the linen closet to grab you a clean washcloth to soak up your releases, handing it to you before sliding back into bed behind you. 

“So… Frankie,” you start, tossing the used washcloth into the hamper. You’re not sure how to ease into what you both know needs to be discussed. Joel hums in response, then makes space so you can shift yourself to face him. 

“Seems like he’s done a number on both of us,” he chuckles. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, and you turn your head to kiss his knuckles. 

You nod as a soft smile crosses your lips. “Yeah, I’d say so,” you reply. “But you seemed to enjoy him too, didn’t you?”

Joel looks slightly sheepish as he nods affirmatively. “Wasn’t expectin’ that, really,” he says, “but I definitely don’t regret it. I’ve always been curious about how I’d feel with a man. How are you feelin’ ‘bout last night?”

“Wonderful,” you admit, your cheeks warming at how worshipped you felt with your two men. “It was nice being together with the two men I lo—“

You freeze up, the word getting stuck in your windpipe. Love. 

You feel the guilt rise up, numbing tingles traveling up your limbs, a growing sense of shame and unease. You shouldn’t be falling for someone besides your husband. You made vows; promised yourselves to one another. Sexual dalliances together with a third is one thing. But falling in love with Frankie felt like a betrayal. Even if it also felt as easy as breathing.

“Baby?” Joel says, pulling you from your swirling thoughts. Your brows furrow together, and you know your emotions are clear on your face because the concern painted across Joel’s features morphs into understanding when you lock eyes.

The guilt crowds your throat, thick and pressing. How could you even consider loving another man when you have this incredible, understanding person who’s stood by your side through thick and thin? This man who’s given you every part of him?

“It’s okay,” Joel reassures you. “Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours.” He strokes your cheek again, your soft skin under his calloused thumb. 

You try to swallow the guilt. “I love you so much, Joel,” you start. “And I also… I think I love Frankie.” You feel the tears start to well up. Joel’s thumb continues its soothing sweep across your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you choke out.

Joel looks puzzled. “Sorry? Darlin’, you have nothing to be sorry about.” He kisses your forehead and you feel the first tears start to fall. His thumb moves to wipe them off your skin. “Thank you for trustin’ me with your feelings.”

“You’re not…” you blubber a bit, “you’re not upset?”

“No, sweetheart, no,” he murmurs. “I’m glad you’re finally voicin’ how you feel about Frankie. ‘Trust and openness,’ remember?” He quotes your wedding vows to you.

You nod, sniffling. “Never hiding how we feel,” you quote back at him. His lips tip up into a warm smile and he nods.

“I think… it didn’t hit me until you two were making dinner together last night,” you explain. “When I saw him next to you in the kitchen, working side by side, it just felt right. I felt the same way looking at him as I do looking at you.” You pause, looking up at him with an ache in your chest. “He feels like home. Just like you always have.”

Joel nods encouragingly. “I know.”

“What do you mean, you know?” you inquire, propping yourself up on your elbow.

Joel smooths his hand down your hair. “I’ve known since the other night when you two FaceTimed me. I could see it in your sleepy little face when you told me you liked him. That you really liked him.” He laughs a bit under his breath. “You said the same thing to me the night I knew I loved you.” 

You smile, remembering the rush of emotions you felt that night nearly a decade ago. “I was still in denial it was love because I thought you were such a bastard,” you giggle. He pinches your side softly, and you give a tiny yelp, squirming away from him, but he pulls you closer and rubs his beard along your shoulder. 

“I was a bastard,” he smirks, kissing your abraded shoulder. “A dumb bastard hopelessly in love with a woman he thought hated him.” 

“I did say that I couldn’t stand you,” you point out.

“And you remember how that ended, right?” he shoots back, growling a little as he pulls you to him. 

You roll your eyes, then kiss him. “Yes, I do. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Joel repeats incredulously, his smile turning into a full grin. “Didn’t seem very unfortunate since you were screamin’ my name when I had my face buried between your thighs, hmm?”

Heat flushes your body with the memory. You smack him playfully. “Okay, okay, fine!” You kiss him giddily again, and the two of you lay there for a few moments in comfortable silence.

“You know,” Joel starts, breaking the quiet, “the two of you need to talk about this.”

You sigh. “Probably, but… I don’t know. Frankie has so much going on with Isabella and his career. I don’t need to be another complication in his life.”

“You ain’t a complication, darlin’. I’m pretty sure he feels similarly ‘bout you as you do towards him,” Joel reassures you.

“How do you know?” you ask incredulously. 

“He looks at you like you look at me,” he responds. 

“And how’s that?” you return.

Joel’s face softens a bit before he answers. “Like I hung the moon and stars f’you.”

Your heart flutters. You snuggle into Joel’s broad body, kissing the coarse hair scattering his chest. “Okay,” you say softly. “I’ll talk to him.”

Joel’s strong arms band around you, and he kisses your forehead softly once more. “Good.”

The rest of the morning continues in comfortable familiarity. After the two of you get out of bed, Joel makes you pancakes and bacon for a slow, lazy breakfast, then you head out to the Sunday morning farmers market in town. The two of you wind through the stalls, picking up things for dinner and refilling your pantry staples from your favorite vendors. After you finish at the market, you run some errands together and then return to the house. Joel goes into the garage to reorganize his toolbox to fit his new acquisitions from the hardware store.

As the late afternoon light filters across your yard, Frankie returns from his outing with Will. 

“Hey, stranger,” you lilt when he enters the living room, where you’re curled up on the couch with your newest romance novel purchase. Frankie leans over the back and kisses the top of your head before coming around the front. 

“Hey, yourself,” he warmly replies, lifting your feet up so he can sit down with them in his lap at the other end of the couch. “How was your day?”

“Good, just a lazy morning and then running errands ‘til we came home a little bit ago,” you explain. His hands mindlessly caress your shins, and you catch yourself thinking again about how right it feels to have Frankie in the home you share with Joel. “How was hanging out with Will?”

“It was so good,” Frankie responds, strong fingers massaging the arch of your foot where he knows you get sore sometimes. “We hiked around Mt. Tam, then got breakfast at a cafe nearby. We had so much to catch up on that we ended up having lunch there, too.” He laughs while shaking his head. You smile, rubbing his arm affectionately while he fills you in. Will is one of Frankie’s oldest friends, and it’s been hard to keep in touch with him after Will took a traveling role for the veteran’s organization he works for. You’re glad Frankie got the chance to see him; you sense some of the tension he carried this morning has melted off his shoulders.

Suddenly, in the corner of your eye, you spot a flash of black on your patio.

You gasp. “Oh my god, Frankie, they’re here!”

Frankie jumps a bit. “Who? What?” You scramble off of him and the couch, careful not to startle your visitor outside. He watches as you peek through the sliding glass door and let out a thrilled squeal.

“The crows! The crows are here!” you exclaim, zipping around the kitchen to gather what looks like a veritable charcuterie tray of foods: nuts, seeds, ground beef from the refrigerator, corn and peas from the freezer, and even a small bowl of cat food. 

The look of confusion pinching his brows releases at your words. “Oh! I can’t believe I get to see them after all this time.”

The neighborhood crows you’ve befriended were one of the first things you told Frankie about after you’d met. You’d gushed about how you’d gotten them to trust you, rattling off the different foods you’d given them (which ones they loved, and which ones they hated). Frankie felt his heart stutter in his chest while he listened to you; his smile widened the more animatedly you talked. Eventually, you’d gotten embarrassed and apologized for babbling on about your wild bird friends like a weirdo, but Frankie stopped you right then and there. He told you to never apologize for being passionate.

“I was hoping they’d come to visit while you were here so you can finally see them for yourself!” You beam up at Frankie, and he can’t help but mirror the expression.

Frankie slides open the door for you, which spooks the crows slightly. “I think they might be scared of you because you’re new,” you explain. “Maybe go watch from the kitchen window?” He nods, and then you slip through the door, tray in hand, making clicking noises with your tongue at your feathered friends to call them over. Through the window behind your kitchen sink, he watches you place the board on the patio table. You begin to toss the morsels away from you. Two ebony birds alight upon the patio, followed by three more after being summoned by the first two crows. You chat happily at them, laughing and smiling. His chest feels like it’s cracking open with the enormity of warmth he feels towards you. 

“Ahh, I see the crows are visiting.” Joel’s deep timbre breaks Frankie from his thoughts, the older man placing a glass of water on the counter. He leans his forearms on the kitchen sink’s edge to join Frankie in watching you interact with the corvids.

Frankie nods, chuckling. “She wasn’t kidding when she said they’re friends.”

Joel shakes his head, a small smile curving on his lips. “Yeah, I took a while to come around to them. I’ve never found birds particularly appealin’. But they make her happy, and I couldn’t deny her somethin’ that gave her so much joy, so I tolerated ‘em.” Joel shifts, turning to Frankie with a smirk. “And then one day I saw one of ‘em grab a damn gopher right outta the ground that had been terrorizin’ our garden for months, so I decided right then and there that they were alright.”

Both men laugh and turn back to watch you with your crows in content silence. The five birds have crept closer to you, sometimes squabbling for bites of the ground beef, while you chastise them for not sharing.

“You know, ever since she’s been seein’ you, she’s been a lot happier and less stressed with work,” starts Joel, and Frankie visibly stiffens.

“Oh yeah?” he asks rhetorically, eyes still on you, unsure of where the conversation is going.

“Mhm,” Joel nods affirmatively. “When she told me she wanted to pursue the work opportunity with the new office in LA, I was hesitant ‘cause I knew it would put pressure on our relationship, regardless of how strong it is. Would be the same for anyone in our position.” Joel stands up and rakes a hand through his silvering curls. “We balance each other out when we’re together. When we’re apart, I’m not there to help calm her down when work is gettin’ to her head. It kills me not bein’ able to help her when we’re physically separated.”

Frankie nods in agreement. He remembers one date night early on that you’d been late to because of multiple emergency meetings at work. You’d been so wound up and on edge that you hadn’t relaxed until Frankie finally dragged you out to his car, eating you out in the dark parking lot until you lost count of how many times you’d come. 

“When things with the office started looking like she might have to be down there for longer than anticipated to get things fully set up,” Joel continues, “I knew somethin’ was gonna have to change. I could feel her anxiety become palpable.” He shakes his head softly. Frankie sees a muscle feather in his jaw; it’s clear to him that being helpless to assist when you’re struggling physically pains your husband.

“Usually I can help shut her brain off by gettin’ her off,” he chuckles, “but obviously us being apart made that difficult. There’s only so much toys and videos can do.” Joel shifts on his feet and stares at the marble counter before continuing. “So we decided to try out openin’ our marriage.”

Frankie nods, allowing the two of them to sit in silence for a couple of seconds. “How did it feel?” he asks, eyes on Joel’s broad form. You’ve mentioned how possessive Joel can be towards you, which made this decision surely not an easy one for him to swallow.

Joel gazes out at you in the yard, your hair ruffling with the late afternoon breeze. He looks down at his hands and smoothes his thumbs across the grout around the sink in a self-soothing manner. “Honestly? Even though I brought up the idea first, it gnawed at me a little,” he admits. “When I married her, I didn’t want anyone but her. The first time I kissed her, I knew she was it for me.” His eyes look wistfully back up at you again. “But I did some thinkin’, talked to my therapist, and realized that it was comin’ from a place of insecurity. I was worried about it changin’ how she felt about me. I think a little part of me was worried about her fallin’ in love with someone else, and out of love with me.”

Frankie’s heart lurches, and he swallows hard. He’s seen the soft yearning in your eyes that he knows must be reflected by his own. Is he taking that away from Joel?

Joel clears his throat softly. “We set up boundaries, rules,” he explains. “We approached it like adults, y’know?” He takes a sip of water, placing the glass back down and turning towards Frankie. “She hooked up with a couple people, one night stands at first. She didn’t tell me any details, and I didn’t ask. But when she came back home after those first couple encounters, she came home less stressed. And if anything, she seemed even more in love with and appreciative of me.” 

Frankie huffs a laugh. “That seems hard to believe,” he smirks at Joel, recalling how smitten you are with your husband. 

Joel rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, a flush rising across his cheeks. It’s honestly adorable how you’re able to get such a gruff man blushing. “The first time she came back from LA after sleepin’ with other men, she pounced on me the minute she walked through the door.” He sighs, his eyes flickering briefly with desire. “I asked her afterwards if she was so enthusiastic because she didn’t enjoy herself with the other guys. She said no, that it was because it meant so much to her that I trusted her and our relationship enough to do somethin’ new.”

Frankie grips the counter’s edge. He wonders if he is betraying that trust.

Suddenly, his eyes are on Frankie again. “And then she met you.”

Frankie swallows hard; he keeps eye contact with Joel as he murmurs, “Yeah?” His heart kicks in his chest.

Joel nods silently, his molten espresso irises focused on the younger man. “I could tell right away it was different. You got under her skin, in a good way. She seemed way more grounded when she got back home from the LA office after meetin’ you. That place…” Joel shakes his head in mild frustration. “It winds her up somethin’ fierce. But I’ve only ever seen her that calm when it’s just the two of us.”

The knots in Frankie’s stomach begin slowly untying themselves as he searches Joel’s eyes. Frankie expects there to be at least a little resentment, resignation, or sadness, but none of that surfaces in Joel’s expression. It’s only warmth. Warmth, and trust.

“You know, it was me that initiated our phone session when y’all were in the hotel,” Joel admits. 

Frankie is a bit caught off guard. “Really? Have you ever… watched before? When she was with other people?”

Joel exhales a quiet laugh. “No, actually.” His gaze flicks downwards briefly, then back up to Frankie.

“I’d asked her for a few details before about other partners,” he said, “but not a full play-by-play. But there was somethin’ different with you. I’ve always been a bit protective over her. Not that I ever thought she needed it; you know as well as I do that she can stand on her own two feet.” 

He and Frankie shared a smirk at that, knowing how you hated being thought of as a damsel in distress

 “I just love her so much, and I worried other people wouldn’t treat her with that same care,” Joel continues. “When she called me because you needed proof that I was really okay with her hookin’ up with you… well, you were the first person who’d ever needed proof of our arrangement. Showed you were thoughtful and respectful, that you weren’t just jumpin’ into it without thinkin’.”

Frankie nods. “It didn’t feel right to me otherwise. If there’s another partner involved, even if indirectly, I want to make sure there’s consent all around.”

Joel’s face softens. “That’s exactly why I was completely comfortable with it. You showed you cared about her, but also our marriage. There was no thrill of illicitness in it for you.” He pauses, glancing back at you outside, and then looking back again at Frankie. “Also, I’d asked her a couple of questions about how things were with you, and she goddamn blushed.”

Now it was Frankie’s turn to be bashful. His cheeks flush hot, and he pins his gaze to the patterns in the marble. 

“Never did that about anyone else,” Joel says. “So of course I wanted t’know more. As she gave me more details, I found myself gettin’ turned on by the idea of you takin’ care of her.” He cracks a sheepish grin in Frankie's direction. “Like you said, I jus’ want her to be comin’ over and over again. Anyway, because you clearly have an effect on her, I wanted to meet you, see how it felt seein’ you pleasuring her. So that’s why I told her to put on a show for us that night. And what you showed me was how much you care for her.”

Frankie doesn’t dare look at Joel; it feels too vulnerable. “I… had no idea.” His throat works as he digests the new information. Joel being so supportive of your relationship with Frankie wasn’t unexpected, but the extent to which he does, is. 

The crows are still enjoying their feast out on the patio, and the two men turn back to observe you for a few moments when they hear your laughter through the glass. You’re giggling at one of the fledglings of the adult crows trying to figure out how to forage; it’s puzzled as to why the nuts and seeds aren’t automatically being placed into its mouth like they are when its parents feed it. Both men chuckle a bit at the scene, the momentary tension easing. 

“She is something else,” Frankie says quietly, breaking the silence. “I’ve never met someone so warm, so vibrant, so generous. Always helping out others. Always with a smile on her face. A beam of fuckin’ sunshine.”

Joel hums in agreement. “She’s just… so full of love. Bursting at the seams with it. And honestly?” He turns again to the younger man before continuing. “I think she’s got the capacity to love more than you’d expect.”

Frankie swallows hard and returns his gaze. Joel’s expression is calm and encouraging. 

“She means a lot to me,” Frankie says quietly, dropping his gaze for a moment. The knots in his stomach return, but for a different reason this time. “But I don’t know if I deserve her. I’ve got so much shit going on and –”

“I know,” Joel interrupts him, placing a warm palm on his shoulder. “But if that was really a problem, she would have pulled herself away much sooner. She knows what you have going on and she’s happy to be a part of it.”

He pauses for a moment before asking point blank: “Frankie, do you love her?

Frankie's heart jumps into his throat. He stares at Joel, trying to read his face for intentions. But all he sees shining back is a friendly, quiet steadiness, like the peaceful redwood forest surrounding their home. Not a single ounce of jealousy, anger, or sadness; just understanding and care.

He thinks back to the months he’s spent getting to know you, weaving you into his life. How you know Isabella’s favorite flavor of ice cream and the way you softly read her bedtime stories. The way your infectious laugh reverberates through the air when he tells you a new dad joke. Mornings spent on the couch with tea and coffee, you in nothing but one of his old army t-shirts. Your biting wit and sarcasm; your pure heart. The way you take no shit, contrasted by the way you give and give and give to those you love. The way his heart skips a beat whenever you catch his eye across a room. How you’ve woven yourself into the very fabric of his soul.

Swallowing again, Frankie takes a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I do, Joel.”

Joel nods, smiling softly. “Then tell her. Not that you need it, ‘cause it’s entirely up to her, but I’d like to have you around as part of our lives. I want someone else around her who loves her jus’ as much as I do.” He looks back out at the patio, where you’re finishing up with feeding the crows. You must feel their eyes on you, because you turn to look behind you at them. A warm smile lights up your face, and the golden hour sunlight gives you an ethereal halo. Frankie’s breath catches in his throat. 

You look so fucking beautiful.

Joel squeezes Frankie’s arm gently. “I’m positive she feels the same.”

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Companion Piece To:

The Casting Couch - Your first foray into porn starts on a casting couch with Michael “Robby” Robinavitch behind the camera.

The Photo Lab - Jack and Robby review the photographs from your audition on the casting couch.

It’s supposed to be hand job.

That’s it.

A screen test with you and Jack performing, Robby directing behind the camera and Jesse engineering the sound with a boom mic. It’s the way it usually is with an indie company, everyone jumps in, helps out where they can.

This session is meant to get you used to being in front of the camera, but the whole thing goes awry the moment you meet Jack, because the two of you…

You have chemistry that’s off the fucking charts.

The type of chemistry that would blow up the house, and burn down the whole goddamn farm if there wasn’t someone to rein you both in. Which is Robby’s job. He can choose to ride that horse all the way out to the pastures, or he can tether it, letting it work within the perimeters that have been set.

But where’s the fun in that, he thinks as he fixes the lighting, watching Jack run through the scene with you on ‘the casting couch’ they’ve stolen from Dana’s reception area to use on set. You’re wearing Daisy Duke shorts and an ACDC t-shirt, looking like a wet dream of the girl next door. Your hair falls loose across your face like a waterfall, something he knows will play well with their audience in future videos where your partner can wrap it around their fist.

That used to be something he enjoyed back when he was staring in his own movies. He liked the power it gave him, the arch of a woman’s back, the hitch of her breath when he tugged.

He chases that image out of his head, focusing on adjusting the final lamp, stealing away the shadows. Jesse gives him the thumbs up underneath his headphones to confirm he’s completed his sound checks, before he picks up the boom mic. Robby ducks back behind the camera, reviewing the first shot he has lined up. It’s the perfect framing of you and Jack on the couch. He should be able to capture everything he needs without having to detach it from the tripod.

“Alright guys we’re going to start rolling in three, two, one…”

The easiness between the two of you stays, but it slips into something raw, something heated. Transitions like this are Jack’s speciality, it’s why they pair him with the folks they screen test, but you, you match that energy and it creates an intimate atmosphere, one where a viewer can believe this is more than just porn.

“You’re nervous.” Jack remarks, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. Your body language plays to that. Hands tucked underneath your ass as if you’re scared to touch, thighs rubbing together as if you’re excited.

 You make eye contact as you speak, the left side of your mouth tilting up into a mischievous smile. “A little.” You say, nestling your face into his palm as if you’re savouring his touch. “But isn’t everyone the first time?”

Those words they’re like a gut punch. Honest, flirty, they’re enough to capture attention, to hold it because the audience will see that authenticity, in fact they’ll fall in love with it.

“Mostly.” Jack cradles your jaw, his thumb chasing over the outline of your pert mouth, dragging down your lower lip. It’s a naughty little move, meant to draw attention to that filthy pout you have going on. “But you don’t need to worry, you’re very pretty. Our viewers will love you.”

“And what will they love doing with me?” You bat back as his mouth hovers over yours.

Jack’s lips curl into a smile, one that Robby is intimately familiar. He’s enjoying this tête-à-tête. It’s something fresh, something different from the hours of mechanical fucking he undertakes. He can tell the other man wants to run with it, to see where the two of you will take the rest of the scene.

 “Can I show you?” His voice his husky, his whiskey eyes bright with adventure.

“I think you better had…” You whisper, your lips barely brushing his. “Otherwise, my imagination… it runs wild.”

Robby exchanges a glance with Jesse, the two of them trying to hide their own smiles. It’s a filthy promise, and the start of a brand that’s going to launch an income stream that springboards into so many other videos. You’re painting yourself as this insatiably creative woman. One who takes pride in claiming her own sexuality, who owns it.

That sort of woman, she’s catnip in their industry.

Something different that sets their studio apart from the ones that focus on twenty year olds featured in Dad’s Best Friend vids, and Opps I Fucked The Babysitter movies.

“We like a little bit of wildness here, in fact it really gets me going.” Jack takes your hand as he claims your mouth, guiding it to the front of his jeans. You arch into the kiss, your teeth grazing his lower lip, pulling it hard enough to elicit a low moan as you stroke his cock through the denim.

“You’re a big boy.” You tease as your fingers squeeze the very visible erection in his jeans. “You’ll have to get me nice and wet to make sure you fit the next time we’re together.”

Jack huffs a laugh against your mouth. His hand slides down the curve of your throat, fingertips toying with the neckline of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “Why don’t you take this off, show me what you’re working with?”

Your fingers hook underneath the hem, drawing it up along your torso in a slow reveal. It’s meant to be a tease, to prolong the sensuality and Jack, he runs with it, helping to guide it up your body, over that coral pink bra. He stops when the shirt covers your eyes, your mouth the only part of your face visible to him. His palm rests on your throat, his thumb tipping your jaw up to meet his mouth.

“Oh, you like being blindfolded.” He murmurs against your lips. “Maybe that’s something we can explore with some of your future videos. I could tie you up, have my wicked way with you. Maybe, I’ll even invite a friend.”

It’s another upsell, another potential hook for your fanbase to sink their teeth into but Christ, Robby finds it hard not to imagine himself in that role. Jack keeping him steady, while the two of them explore your boundaries.

Your breath hitches at the thought as he pulls the t-shirt off the rest of the way, draping it over the arm of the casting couch. His hands are back on you, smoothing over your skin, chasing over your curves as his mouth skims along the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“These are beautiful.” He cups your breasts between his hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples through the bra. He teases them into peaks so that they strain against the lace. It’s a titillation, a maddening one that will keep everyone watching as they wait for the reveal. “I can imagine how good my cock would look like between them.”

His mouth delves lower, his stubble kissing your skin as he seeks out your left nipple. He draws it into his mouth, sucking it through the fabric, making your body arch against his. Your hand threads through his relentless grey curls, gripping them as your head tilts back, hair spilling over your shoulders so Robby can get a clearer shot of the action.

“Maybe we switch it up a little.” Jack murmurs, turning his attention to the other breast, his teeth nipping at that needy little bud through the lace. “Maybe I jerk off all over your tits instead, show our viewers how good you’d look covered in their cum. Would you like that?”

It’s a question, one of consent for you and a heads up for Robby to change his positioning. You respond by reaching behind you and unhooking your bra, it falls away revealing the most perfect, natural tits that Robby has ever seen. “Well lover, I wouldn’t want you to make a mess on my brand-new lingerie, not after I took all that time choosing it especially for you.”

Another hook for the audience, another thing that brings that sense of connection. They all know you didn’t choose it for Jack, you chose it for them, so they could see you take it off.

Jack’s hand moves back to his jeans, but you push it out of the way, taking over. Surprise crosses his features and Robby has to bite back a laugh. He warned the other man that you were a wildcard, he guess he didn’t realise just how much until now.

“I’m supposed to show you what I can do, remember?” You tease, your lips trailing along his throat, mouth sucking on that naughty little spot he didn’t even know existed just underneath the hinge of his jaw. Your clever hands are already unfastening the button and drawing down the zipper. Jack looks completely swept away in the moment, a groan punching out of his chest as you grasp his dick. “It’s no fun if you do it yourself.”

You help him shove his trousers down his hips, they get stuck around his knees but he doesn’t seem to care because you’re kissing him again and his cock jutting out. Red, desperate, leaking. You break apart long enough for you to use your fingertip to scoop a bead of pre-cum from the tip before placing it between those heart shaped lips of yours. You make a pleased sound as you lick it off your finger, as if Jack Abbot is the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

“I know I’m not allowed a blow you right now.” You murmur as your fingers wrap around Jack’s cock, thumb running over the head as more pre-cum spurts from the slit. “But I am very much looking forward to getting your dick in my mouth during our next video.”

That there, that’s the money maker. Those are the words that are going to have their phonelines jammed with people desperate to pre-order the next movie when this video hits the fan club.

You start to stroke, keeping yourself positioned off to Jack’s side so that Robby can focus on the thrust of his hips, on the way you jerk him to the point that his chest is heaving, that flush of pink creeping up his neck staining his freckles.

“Gonna come, Honey.” Jack whispers, tilting his head so that his eyes meet yours. Your free hand caresses his cheek, tracing over the greying stubble that lines his jaw. It’s a soft gesture, from one lover to another, affectionate, warm. It adds another layer to your legacy, another thing for the audience to fall in love with. “Lie down for me so I can do it all over your tits.”

You shimmy down onto the couch as he strips off his pants, his knees straddle your waist, his prosthetic limb tucking in against the couch cushions, keeping the mechanics away from your skin. Your hair fans out across the velvet and Robby shifts the camera closer, lingering over Jack’s shoulder for a POV shot.

You lie there looking up at him, those eyes filled with sin as you play with those tits of yours, plucking at the nipples, keeping them hard. Jack’s ragged breathing fills his ears as he jerks his cock, rough, hard, the desperation of a man who’s teetering on the edge.

“This is the money shot, baby.” You say to the camera. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

Jack climaxes with a feral groan, one that tears from his throat as white hot jets of cum arc across your breasts, covering them like pearls. Robby keeps the camera focused on you, on that cum dripping down your nipples into the valley of your breasts.

It’ll make a great picture, one that they’ve have you sign like a love letter when they send out the fan club package for a personalised touch.

“That’s a wrap.” Robby declares as he ceases recording, withdrawing to his original position by the tripod. Jesse lowers the boom mic, retreating to his audio set up.

Jack shifts his weight off you, his hand taking yours, helping you to sit up as Robby reaches for the baby wipes and the fresh set of towels they keep nearby.

“You did so well.” He praises as he hands them off to you and Jack to clean yourselves up with. “You kept your focus on Jack, and only looked at the camera for the POV shot at the end. It couldn’t gone better.”

“Not hard to do when you’re working with a complete rockstar like this guy.” You nudge Jack with your shoulder as you wipe his cum your tits.

Most people, their overwhelmed in the aftermath of something like this, but you seem fine, taking it in your stride. It’s the difference, he guesses, when it comes to working with someone with life experience.

“Ten out of ten, would come on again.” Jack remarks drily with that trademark smirk of his. “I think we’ve got a star on our hands with this one.”

You grin up at him and for Robby, it feels like the sun is shining on him all over again.

“Yeah.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles down at you. “Yeah, I think we have.”

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