A Tribecca Threesome
Since I’ve stuck my head back in, I might as well share a new story for you all. Feels like classic QNY. :D
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It was two a.m. when I stumbled into their hotel room. I had been at a photoshoot for the last six hours while they had been eating, drinking, and fucking.
All three of us were exhausted.
Are the relationships important? Does it matter who we were? Do you care that all three of us were married to other people or that he and I were dating and she and he were dating and did I mention that we were exhausted?
The hotel was in Tribeca. You know the one. The big one on the corner with some semblance of history and an atrium that reminded me of the shopping mall I grew up near in New Jersey. The elevator was glass, and I rode it up to their floor, trying to remember the room number.
When I stumbled in, the room was dark, and they were both in the king-sized bed, lying half under the blankets naked as can be. I remember the lights through the window offering some glimpse of her body, and for a moment, I wondered if I had seen her fully undressed before. We had taken her pictures a year earlier, but lingerie was involved and what is memory anyway?
What I was sure of was that I hadn’t so much as kissed her. Which means when I stripped out of my clothes and climbed in with her between us, it was the first time we came anywhere close to being intimate. He reached over her body and gripped my hand, and I smiled. On my way to the hotel, I got an email about work that was driving me up the wall. It was one of those situations where ethics slams against friendship, and I was having trouble focusing.
“I’ve never had a threesome,” she whispered, the light from the clock lighting her breasts as he pulled the light sheet off her body.
“I thought you were tired?” He teased, running a hand over her stomach. Mine joined his as I tried to pull myself back to the room. Away from work. Away from home. Away from everything.
We were lazy in our touch, and maybe that’s what made the difference. I caressed her slowly, my hand moving from a thigh to a navel and then breast. Her legs parted, and she brushed my cock with her fingertips. He kissed her neck and then me. Her mouth opened as she watched.
“Do you want to fuck us both?” He asked. Our bodies pressed into her from both sides, and in spite of the hour, the emotions, and the night, we were growing hard.
“So badly,” she moaned, her legs wider as his fingers dipped inside of her. Her hand was on me, stroking me as I got harder, and I kissed her for the first time. Her lips were soft and warm, and her tongue pushed into my mouth as his hand replaced hers on my cock. Before long, his mouth took over, and she paused long enough to look down and watch as he took me between his lips.
“Fuck,” she moaned, kissing me even as she watched out of the corner of her eye.
“Is that hot?” I asked. “Watching him suck my cock? Seeing him get me hard so I can fuck you?”
“Yes…”
“Are you ready?” He asked, his bright smile looking up at me before he reached over to the nightstand. I was on her again, kissing her breasts and neck as he slowly opened the condom. I moved down her body, parting her thighs, tasting her cunt, and then kneeling there looking down at them.
He reached to me, took me gently in hand, and then slid the condom down over my length as she panted and stared wide-eyed at us both.
“Do you want him to fuck you?” He asked, rubbing me against her swollen lips.
“While I suck your cock,” she begged, a giggle of joy escaping her lips.
I slid into her as he moved up. I kissed her mouth for the second time as we began to fuck until both of us were graced with his thick cock. We took him back and forth while we moved, and for at least a few minutes, everything else left me.
It was three in the morning, I was fucking a woman I had barely met, and my boyfriend’s cock was moving seamlessly between our eager mouths. I fucked her harder, knowing I wouldn’t last long. Between her being new, the stimulation of watching and sucking, and his soft pleading for me to come, I was ready to burst.
When I arched my back, he sat back to watch. I pulled her to me, my hands on her hips as I thrust into her, and someone told me to come on her. Three more times I thrust into her before pulling out, tearing off the condom and then leaning forward until I let go on her stomach, breasts, and neck.
It was only when I fell back to my side of the bed that I realized he had a condom on as well. He was inside her a moment later, his mouth on hers before he moved down to lick my cum off her skin. I gripped his ass as they fucked and kissed her neck and mouth in between all of our moans and grunts.
For a while, she stared into my eyes as he thrust into her, his face tight with concentration. Her eyes were big in disbelief, and I’ve rarely seen such joy on another person’s face. She kissed me again as she began to come, my fingers snaked between them and now working on her clit. He leaned up and pushed deeper inside her, and she bit my lip as I touched her.
Her back arched, her arms tightened, and she screamed into her arm as she came around him just as he too started to let go. Between sweat and tears and saliva–not to mention my cum–she was a sticky mess as was he. Collapsing against her, she cried out as she convulsed one last time, and it only took seconds for laughter to replace everything else.
“Holy fuck,” she sighed when he finally rolled over once again to dispose of the condom.
In the darkness, we held hands on her stomach and took turns kissing her cheek. The exhaustion returned, but so did the stress and the doubt that filled my stomach. I struggled to stay there, to be present for the beauty we had created, but my mind refused to obey.
By six am, I was on the street, walking uptown to make my way home. I could barely think let alone sleep, and yet some small part of me managed to hold onto the glory of our brief fuck.
When I got home, I had a text from him. She wanted him to say thank you for her first threesome. And thank you for the sex and the beautiful end to a beautiful night.
I texted them back as I slid down onto my couch, wishing I had the wherewithal to find nothing but joy in the last twelve hours. Instead, my mind swirled with how to respond to what I had read on my way to the hotel. Was everything about to change? Would I have a job on Monday? Would I want one?
“Fuck,” I groaned as I closed my eyes.
For a brief moment, I could still taste her lips.
-gny
