SMUT STROLL: Just Us Three...

A Fantasy

Exploring Ethical Non-Monogamy (ENM) and having a new boyfriend enticed me to day dream. To imagine what it would look like if/when we all got together. Here is today’s musing.

Photo by Fusco Studio on Unsplash

I arrive early. My nerves and excitement had me showered, shaved, and glammed up over an hour early. Sometimes I wonder if pre-planning a night like this was a good idea, or if having one of them do it and make it a surprise would be easier on my over-thinking brain.

But, I’d hate not being able to prepare. I don’t want to eat too much at dinner, drink too much at the bar, or have stubble in places that I like silky smooth when I’m being intimate.

In order to feel the part, I need to look the part.

“Lemon drop martini, please,” I tell the bartender when he nods in my direction.

For a Thursday night, there are a lot of people here. I’m shocked, actually, there must be a convention going on. It’s a small town and I don’t recognize anyone in here… which is probably for the best.

My foot bounces, wiggling my heel off so I stand, sliding it back on. I need to calm my racing heart.

I’ll feel better with some alcohol, I tell myself.

Under “normal” circumstances I’d go for a jog or have a 60-second-dance-party to get out my nervous energy but the skin tight, black cocktail dress I have on isn’t conducive to that.

Plus, I intentionally wore no panties to up the sensuality, so neither of those options would work.

Maybe a few laps around the dance floor will help. I can keep an eye out for them as I wander.

I pick up my drink and push off the bar. There are three couples on the dance floor; one of which are obviously using this slow song as foreplay. He holds her close, their legs staggered, swaying in time to the music while her hands move as though starved of flesh. They’re in his hair, down his chest, gripping his arms, clawing at the fabric of his shirt—the only thing standing in her way.

It’s memorizing to watch. A public display of their private desires. He pushes her away, grabbing her hands and turning her around so that her back is to his front.

The sugar rim hits my lips as the sour drink goes down cold to warm me up. This, paired with a deep breath, and I’m starting to feel the tension leave my body.

Another sip and I close my eyes, rocking back and forth with the beat; rolling my hips, and letting my free hand roam much like the woman dancing.

Hands slide along my waist but I keep my eyes closed and let the sensation take control of my senses.

“You were supposed to be sitting at the bar.” His breath tickles my ear. His words are stern—like a brat being warned—but his tone tells me he enjoys what he’s seeing.

One hand, pressed hard enough to wrinkle the fabric, moves to my stomach and the other grasps my forearm.

He pulls me into his chest and grinds into my ass.

“Hard already?” I tease, leaning my head back to rest it on his shoulder. Now it’s our turn to dance.

His lips are soft on my neck.

One kiss.

Two.

Another, behind my ear, that lingers.

“I’ve been hard since yesterday when you suggested this.”

The song ends, switching to something more upbeat, but we’re caught in the melody of our bodies. Basking in the moment before everything changes.

A hand lifts my glass away and I open my eyes to see you. Salt and pepper hair cropped short with just enough on top to spike… just the way I like it.

“Getting started without me I see.” Your other hand grabs my jaw, pulling me in for a kiss but you stop short.

You glance over my shoulder at him; meeting in person for the first time. No words, just a nod of approval.

And then I’m wrapped up in ways I could never imagine.

One hard body pressed to my back, another to my front. We are a tangle of limbs and lust and the evidence of my need trickles down my thighs.

Every reservation I had about tonight… every worry that the two men in my life would think this was a competition, a battle… every thought that I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, sexy enough… it all melts away.

I don’t care about any excess weight I think I have on my belly, any cellulite on my thighs. I know these beautiful men don’t see any of the things I’m insecure about.

I also don’t care that people are staring at us. Honestly, it adds to the eroticism.

“I need you,” I say. I don’t have to be specific. They each know it’s a declaration for them both. “Right now.”

If I could move through the bar, take the elevator, and walk into our hotel suite with them in this tangled mess, I would, but sadly we can’t.

The loss of their heat and shape cuts me open. The desire for them isn’t just about sex. They each have something a piece of me wants… needs.

You are my stability while he’s my spontaneity.

You keep me grounded and he gives me wings.

You know my history as he cultivates fantasy.

And I can have you both.

Walking through the lobby, waiting to get to our floor, and strolling down the hall as though we’re just three “normal” human beings sobers me. My thoughts jumble with what if’s, but the second we step into our room, there’s no doubt we’re doing the right thing.

The door hasn’t even clanked shut and hands are on me.

I feel like a queen. Worshipped and adored.

You greedily run your hands down my legs to help me out of my shoes. He lifts my arms over my head to unzip my dress and pull it up and off.

The room goes quite and all movement stops when you both see at the same time that I’m not wearing any panties.

Normally, I’d feel self-conscious if someone stared at me like this, but somehow you both share an expression of awe and appreciation at what you’re seeing.

I step away, enjoying the hitch of breath and groan of delight watching my ass bounce and sway toward the bed. Before I get there, though, I reach around behind me and unclasp my bra, dropping it to the floor with a look over my shoulder.

You’re still kneeling next to my discarded shoes and he’s got one hand on your shoulder, leaning for support.

My guys.

I climb onto the bed, giving them a good look at their prize for playing nice and take my time to stretch before sliding down to my stomach—hands first so that my ass is left up in the air until I’m all the way down.

I have no plan; no clue where to start.

Do I call them over? Touch myself? Put on a little show? In all the planning, this part was the one thing I never considered.

The actual doing…

I bend my knees to kick my feet in the air behind me, and rest my chin on my hands. If I had a book in front of me it would be the exact position I prefer while on the beach.

But the only thing I want to read is their hands on my body. Their expressions of desire. Their want.

I intentionally ignore them. It takes all my self-control to not call out for them. But the more time that goes by, the wetter I become at the thought of them soaking me in. Contemplating their approach. Deciding where to start.

I am their buffet.

The soft rustle of fabric as someone takes their clothes off is all I hear.

He comes to me first. I’m not sure if there was a silent discussion or maybe you waved him forward. It doesn’t matter.

The big toe on my right foot feels warm inside his mouth, coming out with a pop. His thumbs pressing into my sole.

The massage doesn’t last long; my other foot needs some attention, too.

When he’s satisfied that they both have been treated equally, his hands move down my calf to my thighs.

A breath precedes a kiss at the bend of my leg, just below each ass cheek, one at a time. Those hands, kneading and gripping, find every tight muscle and pressure point but once they are on my ass, a massage isn’t what he has in mind.

They squeeze for their own pleasure instead of mine. I wince and lift my hips to lessen the bruising grip and find it just makes it easier for him to pull my cheeks apart.

I’m exposed and wet, giving him free reign to any part of me he wants.

He nibbles my ass then trails kisses from my lower back, up my spine to my neck. His greedy fingers pull my hair back to access my neck.

I love the way his body feels, barely hovering above me, and his cock leaking onto my back.

“Fuck, Princess,” He growls in my ear. “You have no idea all the things I want to do to you.”

This is the first time he’s seen me naked and I thought I’d be self-conscious, but seeing what I do to him takes all that anxiety away.

He grinds his cock into me. Groaning. Plunging one hand under my arm to grab my breast. My own hands reach behind me wanting to touch him, feel his skin, learn his body.

I throw a look over one shoulder, looking past him to try to see you.

Nothing.

I look over the other, and there you are, slowly pulling your tie off. Unbuttoning your dress shirt, you slide it off, one shoulder at a time. Your muscles flex, hands squeezing, and jaw clenching.

Oh, no. You’ve changed your mind. The idea of seeing me with another man was something you liked as a fantasy but, now that it’s happening, it’s too much.

I try to roll to my side, but he’s there, kissing my neck, running his hand down my arm, my hip, my leg, while the other is still at my tit.

“Wait, do you…” I start to speak, but you put a hand up.

Your head shakes and I realize he’s stopped and is looking at you, too.

We lay here on the bed in a sort of half spooning position, testing the temperature of our relationship.

“I… We can… I don’t need…” There’s no way for me to form a sentence. My body craves what’s happening but it also wants to preserve what we’ve been building for the last decade.

A tear pricks my eye and threatens to release a flood but, seeing this, you come to me, kneel at the side of the bed and take my face in your hands. A thumb swipes along my lips and I refrain from biting it… sucking it into my mouth swirling my tongue along your nail.

I let it pull my bottom lip to the side before running across the top. Your eyes flick to him and back to me.

I can usually tell from your expression what you’re thinking but right now all I see is a furrowed brow.

“Baby. Do you really think I’d dislike how responsive you are when he touches you?” You kiss the tip of my nose. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Relief slows my too fast heart.

I reach a hand out, drawing you closer. You only hesitate long enough to take your pants off. When you do, I can see exactly how much you like this.

Sliding onto the bed in front of me, I wrap a leg around your hip. Your lips are soft on mine at first, but quickly turn ravenous.

In this tangle of bodies, I’m delightfully overwhelmed. I lose track of individual sensation and my body lights up in pleasure.

Hands are everywhere—on my breasts, in my hair, pulling my legs apart. Someone’s finger presses into my pussy and the other person’s fingers join it. There are lips on my neck, my mouth, my nipple.

I reach one hand behind me and another in front to take each of their cocks in my hands. In tandem, I push down into their base and pull up, swirling a finger along their tips. Spreading their precum around and going back down again I finally believe that having both of them is absolutely possible.