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Three-Way Tie (Neighborly Affection) Page 2


  Letting go of the need to hide himself laid so many gifts at his feet. The love and pride in Henry’s face at not being his shameful secret. The comfort of receiving Henry’s attention in public as Alice did. Wanting those things filled him with happiness. Embarrassment belonged to the old Jay, the one who believed “masculine” and “submissive” couldn’t co-exist. Henry and Alice had chipped away those self-loathing corners and built a fresh house for his soul.

  Henry kissed his forehead and dragged his mouth toward his ear. “Watch yourself, my boy. Stare at me with such love and obedience for too long, and you’ll find yourself on your knees soon enough.”

  He hadn’t sucked Henry’s cock in at least sixteen hours. His eager whine floated in the dusty air. “This place has gotta have a dozen empty corners. Alice would play lookout.”

  “Alice would prefer to watch your head bobbing, not the store’s sightlines,” Henry murmured. “I cannot fault her for that.”

  No, Henry would praise her for it, and they’d both love her for it. Fuck, he wanted her riding his cock while Henry filled his throat. To be a vehicle of pleasure for them and nothing more. Henry’s good boy. Alice’s stud puppy.

  Stiff-tongued, Henry penetrated his mouth without a hint of warning. The pressure of lips against lips sprinted to his balls, loaded and tight from a day’s worth of teasing. Henry squeezed his hip. Jesus, he needed to thrust. Why did they have these dishes between them? Don’t drop the dishes. Don’t drop the dishes.

  “Your knees are trembling.” Henry breathed hushed words, low and commanding, between them. “Time to do something about that, my boy. Set these—”

  “Welcome to Nicks and Scratches Antiques!”

  Holy fuck. The woman’s bubbly voice jolted him fresh out of Imminent Orgasm Avenue and dropped him onto Limp Dick Lane. Henry steadied him with a whispered apology as he took a half-step back.

  “Hi, folks. Sorry I didn’t catch you right off the bat. Gramps is out after deer today. You know how bow hunters are when the season’s on. But I’m fully briefed on the massive amounts of junk around here.” She waved toward the stacks of whosie-whatsits and thingamabobs. “Kidding. About the junk, I mean, not the knowledge. I’m Carrie. What can I help you find today?”

  Carrie was a tiny thing, dark and delicate, and for sure the youngest proprietor they’d met. Old Scratch went out and left the devil’s granddaughter minding the store. Wait’ll Alice saw the girl they’d be selling their souls to.

  He edged closer to Henry. Not ’cause Henry would be tempted, but so this cock-blocking college kid understood he was taken. And so she’d knock off the creepy, soul-destroying clown smile.

  Henry slipped into smooth, refined social patter like a perfect paddle stroke to water. Blah-blah-blahs about porcelain and stoneware and patterns and vintages. With platters and bowls trotted out in turn, Jay stood silent and obedient for the show.

  “Hmm, yes, something more in that line. Have you a…”

  Maybe Alice would find something nice wherever she’d wandered off to. The shelves and stacks surrounding them made spotting her golden head impossible.

  “…estate sale…full set of…or some partial…”

  His stomach growled. With lunch three hours in the rearview mirror, the diner across the road called his name. Bet they had pie. Gooey chocolate peanut butter pie. Apple for Alice. Pecan for Henry.

  “No, not Wedgwood, thank you. One of my dinner guests has me quite trounced in that arena.”

  Dash across the road, grab a table, order some pie.

  “Just a moment.” Henry scooped the remaining platter and bowls from his arms. “Jay, leave these with me and go collect Alice, please. We may have exhausted the possibilities here.” He turned to the dark-haired sprite. “Something more individual. I’m seeking an unexpected delight for my table.”

  Whoops. Caught being distracted. Forgiveness wrapped in a fresh task. He retraced his steps to the entrance. Nothing near the door, and the aisles wound around on each other too much for a clear view to the back. Scavenger hunt with Alice as his prize? Perfect.

  He stalked her through the maze of antique curios and sideboards, old-timey mirrors, weird geegaws, and—wait, there. Ripe wheat in a loose twist rising from beyond a wrought-iron something-or-other. Dodging an old globe, he swung around the corner, sucked in his gut, and stumbled back.

  Damn, close one. The spokes of some whacked-out sundial art-dealie stuck halfway into the aisle. Total safety hazard. Henry’d say to fix it so no one else got taken by surprise. Maybe if—

  Jay sank to his knees, careful to avoid an art-dealie poke in the eye, and tugged at the open flap of the cardboard box sitting on the floor in front of the banged-up wooden dresser. The top thing was a plate. Weird-looking. Unique.

  He tipped his head back and called to the ceiling, “Hey!” Great way to get dust in his eyes in this place, sheesh. “Come see this.”

  He unloaded the box, the clink of dishes mixing with the tap-thud of Alice’s boots until the latter stopped and brown suede nudged his knee. Alice squatted beside him. “Knock something over with your massive cock today, stud?”

  “Not yet, I haven’t.” He leaned toward her in teasing threat. “But I do like seeing you on the floor.”

  “You like being on the floor better.” Closing her eyes, she breathed deep and sighed. “I like that too. Can’t wait ’til we get home. He’s been driving me crazy today with those whispered promises.”

  He pecked her cheek, grateful for her playfulness. Henry could be harder to crack, a fun challenge and exciting as a benevolent disciplinarian, but Alice was his partner in crime, always eager to laugh and tease. He needed them both in his life. “Me too. I swear I was this close before shop girl introduced herself.”

  She shifted her hips, and he crooked his leg sideways into a seat. The bare concrete would snag her dress and stockings. Fine for his jeans, but not for Alice. Her weight settled on him, warmth and joy, and he pressed himself to her side as she plucked the plate from his hands.

  “Huh. Good eye. How many are there?”

  “Dunno. At least this box, and I think the one next to it.” He raised his voice. “Henry, you should see these before you finish haggling.”

  “You really should,” Alice echoed. “Reuleaux triangles.”

  “What-low?” The second box revealed bowls with tops curving like waves and the same lines around the edges. “Does that mean round?”

  “Reuleaux. An engineer guy. And yeah, it means round-ish.” She set a plate on her legs and grabbed his hand. “Here, trace with me.” Guiding his hand, she ran their fingers around the edge. “Three equal arcs based on the points of an equilateral triangle. Every point on the curve is the same distance from the center.”

  Center. Uh-huh. Their journey around the plate ended with the point nearest her crotch. She let her hand fall away, and he brushed her stomach with his knuckles. “Can we shorten the distance to the center?”

  “Teaching Jay something new today?” Henry reached for the plate, and he handed it up for study. “How lovely to see you putting your homework into practice.”

  He shared a glance with Alice and fingered the rope at her back through her clothes while they waited for Henry’s pronouncement. She loved the ropes. He might too, if he were brave enough to ask for them. Not barreling ahead because of his lovers’ desires, but taking thoughtful stock of his own. One of the first lessons Henry had taught him.

  “An excellent find, my boy.” Henry squeezed his shoulder.

  Approval seeped through his skin to his bones like water finding its level. He craved that tone, the drugged happiness nudging him toward subspace without sex.

  “The shape formed of overlapping circles.” Henry balanced the plate on his fingertips. “The center of three lives. Even the colors suit.”

  The plain white of the plates sported only the thinnest lines of color to break it up. Gold, green and brown lines swept along the edges and rolled into and over and aroun
d each other at the corners like Celtic knots on the funky triangles. Unique enough for Henry’s taste.

  And now that they had something to eat off of for Thanksgiving, maybe they’d get to go eat today’s dinner. Pie ran neck and neck with Alice’s pussy and Henry’s cock for top choice. He’d eat the last two first then fill up on pie energy then go back for seconds if Henry said the word.

  Alice giggled and nuzzled his ear while Henry called for the devil’s granddaughter. Guess the plates were coming home with them.

  “Bet I know what you’re thinking about, stud.” She shifted her hip and pushed at his cock. Oh fuck yeah. He twitched. The fabric gripped him. “Whatever it is, you must like the idea.”

  “I do.” He wrapped his arms around her until she squeaked. “Life is good.”

  Chapter 3: Henry

  Tattered brown leaves swirled and crunched at Henry’s feet, the final remnants of a leaf peeping season laid to rest. The deserted parking lot tempted desire, but the broad windows of the diner across the two-lane road stamped it out. Public display belonged in the club with controlled variables, not in the real world where an entrepreneuring smartphone user might make money off Alice and Jay’s beauty or a child might witness something inappropriate.

  “Wait, nudge that box left. More left.” Alice wrapped her arms around their strong, slender boy and pointed as he bent over the trunk. Bouncing sunlight blended their bodies into a single whole. “See, perfect fit.”

  The family cabin in northern Maine would offer privacy and the beauty of red and golden leaves. Too late this year. He’d make a note of it so Alice could request vacation time in advance next year.

  “I’m always a perfect fit.” Jay wiggled, playing the puppy for their sweet girl. Gentle and intuitive, his giving submissive boy. “Delivery boy, at your service.”

  Early October, with Jay splayed on his back on the hood of the car, his jeans opened enough to allow Alice to mount him.

  “At my service, huh?” She stilled Jay’s hips with a simple clasp and a murmur in his ear. The glance she threw over her shoulder sparkled with mischief. Alice, his challenge and his respite. “I’d have to get permission for that.”

  Kneeling over their boy with her skirt rucked up and Jay’s cock deep in her pussy. Her smiling face thanking her master as he pressed forward and claimed her ass.

  “A fine thought for another day, my dears.” Theirs and his. Arousal stirred, a calculated flex tugging his attention to his cock. He’d put it to good use soon enough. Patience. An exquisite torment with lovers whose every breath whetted his desire for them. “I’ve other ways for you both to serve tonight.”

  Eager smiles and teasing chatter flowed between them. The most important layer of his life—balancing the freedom and discipline his lovers craved in a satisfying mix for all three of them. The security of rules and structure for Jay. A sense of give-and-take for Alice. Each welcomed his control with a unique palette. Some days he managed to blend the colors beautifully, and gratitude for their trust overwhelmed him. Other days he revised his image of the larger picture, scraped away his errors and painted anew.

  The diner seduced Jay as he loaded the trunk with their newfound dishes. No doubt he thought his glances subtle. The sign advertised fresh homemade pies. Hmm. A well-deserved treat, after he’d found outstanding tableware for their first Thanksgiving dinner as a family. Later would be soon enough to explore the beauty of the curved triangle, the shape their backs would form as the three of them delivered oral pleasure with their heads bent to their work upon one another.

  The trunk latched with a gentle click, Alice’s thoughtfulness in evidence. Jay would have slammed the lid and apologized after for his boisterous energy. Constant movement, grating in others, formed a harmonious symphony in his brilliant, shining boy. Percussion and brass, the pulsing heartbeat beneath Alice’s trilling woodwinds and his own muted strings.

  “Thank you for packing us up, my boy. Come here, please.” Sneakers pounded asphalt at a crisp trot. Mere seconds passed before he cupped Jay’s smooth cheek and cherished the novelty.

  More than five years together, and only in the last two months had he enjoyed the freedom of claiming his boy in public. No trace of shame or embarrassment or fear in the sweet brown eyes fixed on his.

  “You’ve been such a good, patient boy today.” Simple love and trust. Had it not been for Alice, Jay might never have reached this comfort.

  “Hours spent in an activity that bores you, yet I couldn’t leave my dear boy behind.” The fullness of his life expanded, and all because of Alice’s exceptional courage and Jay’s persistent, well-timed honesty. A blessing granted despite his own shortcomings. “Alice and I would have come home empty-handed without your discovery.”

  Jay trembled, a delightful shiver starting in the warm cheek beneath his hand and traveling down the boy’s body to his tapping feet. Short breaths passed between parted lips, tempting him to consume them.

  “Because you’ve pleased me so much, Jay, I’m going to offer you a choice.” Allowing himself a single swipe of his thumb across Jay’s cheekbone, he savored the sweet tilt of his boy’s head into his palm. An entranced pet, giddy at earning the master’s favor. The title meant nothing without these gifts, these tangible proofs of happiness. “We may stay here and have dinner across the road—yes, with pie—or we may go straight home and indulge the arousal we’ve been clutching so tightly today.”

  “Home.” Jay breathed the word like a prayer. “Better than pie.”

  Smothering his smile at the expected answer, he bestowed a tender kiss on Jay’s forehead. “Into the car, then.” Control, protection and approval. As necessary to his boy as oxygen. “Backseat, please.”

  Leaning her hip against the side panel, Alice unlatched the door and pushed it open. “Good choice, stud.” Her whisper carried. She rubbed Jay’s back as he ducked inside. Closing the door behind him, she rolled her shoulders and shuddered.

  Her delight lured him to her side, urging him to replace the discreet marker of his claim with the real thing. No frail reed in the breeze, his sweet girl. He hummed, and she swayed as a cobra. Seductive and striking. The glints of green and brown in her hazel eyes challenged him.

  The primary hues in his boy’s color wheel merited only secondary, even tertiary, weight in hers. She met him as an equal, a partner who understood his need to dominate as well as she did Jay’s need to submit. His bold adventurer tested him as she learned from him.

  “Did you wish to stop for pie first, Alice?” He crowded her in restrained fashion, discarding scenarios as quickly as he conjured them. Though the car’s bulk shielded them from restaurant patrons, he would not raise her dress, spin her about and take her from behind while Jay watched through the car window. His cock disagreed. Holding back tormented him with delightful, buzzing need.

  “I could make it through the meal,” she murmured. A brazen dare. “Jay would have to excuse himself before the appetizer hit the table.”

  “And how much would you squirm in your seat, waiting alone while I followed him to the restroom and permitted him the release he needs?” Increasing the stakes drew her full attention. Dilated pupils. Rapid respiration. His satisfaction lived in her responses.

  “Staring at your menu, picturing my hand around his cock, wondering when I might grant you your own sweet rush? Riding…” He gripped her waist for the primal joy her gasping shudder awoke in him.

  “Riding all the way home with slick thighs. Untouched.” Sweeping his hands up her sides, he fingered the edge of the taut jute hugging her skin beneath her dress. His claim on her. “Your every breath a reminder of my embrace, your heart beating out an empty rhythm, driving and seeking, swelling your flesh and readying you for me.”

  She moaned, low and needy, the sound of her surrender pitch perfect.

  “Into the backseat with you, my dear,” he whispered. “Mind you stay on your own side.”

  “My own side.” Eyes raised to the sky, she bared her t
hroat to him. A supplicant pleading for mercy. “No touching?”

  Clasping her face in his hands, he turned her head in a slow side-to-side stroke. “You wouldn’t need that, now would you? Not the girl who insisted she might sit through dinner with no trouble at all.”

  He brushed his lips against her ear. She trembled, caught between his body and the car, her strength masked by his. Not his equal now, but his submissive. His good girl. “You’ll wait on my pleasure, Alice. And when I allow you to come, you’ll thank me for the exquisite rapture.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, a delicate and captivating dance. “Thank you, Henry.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, sweet girl.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. She’d sit behind his seat and struggle with her desire all the way home, a delicious vision in the rearview mirror. “Hold that thought. Clasp it tight between your legs for me, hmm?”

  Silent anticipation thickened the air on their ride home. Alice sat with her eyes closed, her head tipped against her seatback, her breathing slow and deliberate. Jay stared at her with unceasing hunger. Vibrating with want, the pair of them.

  They embodied the fulfillment of his wish for the day. Rationing touches and teasing denial at uneven intervals forced desire to the forefront of their minds, overwhelmed the work stress preoccupying Alice and the family inadequacy plaguing Jay. Tangible reminders of his ownership guided them toward happier, more playful pursuits.

  He entered the apartment last, ensuring their adherence to his ban on contact. The flip of the deadbolt reconfigured casual control into command.

  At his sharp tug, Jay stumbled backward into his arms. Rough-woven cotton bunched in his hands as he yanked his boy’s shirt over his head to an accompaniment of excited tenor whimpers. The smooth, taut abdomen beneath his fingers shuddered with each new sound.

  “Take off your dress, Alice.” The door supported his back as he unfastened Jay’s pants by touch alone, the flush in Alice’s cheeks too lovely to ignore. “Only the dress.”