The Stars Align

It’s late-ish morning, and we’ve taken a break from the sex to eat some eggs, drink coffee, and chat, the sun streaming in through the ranch sliders that open from the bedroom on the deck. My cute little house is totally private, and I always keep the curtains open — I love being able to look into the tree tops from the bed.

Rob has been back in the country a few weeks, and built a few days visiting me into his trip. We’ve known each other for decades — we slept together a couple of times in the late eighties (or was it the early nineties?), the last time when he was on his way out of the country. In his recollection of that moment, he’d tried to convince to run away with him — obviously I didn’t. We lost touch with each other once he’d left, but then the internet was invented, and we eventually reconnected on social media. In the last year or two the messaging had veered into the sexual, and we’d exchanged photos that were increasingly x-rated. He had a weirdly vivid memory of a blow job from one of the times we’d spent together decades ago, which I found very endearing. He’s been at my place for 36 hours or so… we’ve spent most of that in bed, fucking, sleeping, eating, drinking, fucking some more. During the long rambly conversation over breakfast, Rob asks if there’s anything in my bucket list that he might be able to help with while he’s here and willing.

“Well”, I say, “funny you should ask… I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of an MFM threesome, but the opportunity has never presented itself.”

“Hmmm”, he responds, with a cheeky grin, “Is there anyone handy who you think might be up for that?”

“Maybe… let’s see shall we?” I grab my phone and message Dean. It’s been a few months since we were last in touch with each other…

‘Heya! So this will be a bit random, but you might remember me talking about a long-standing fantasy of an MFM threesome. I happen to have a willing volunteer — would you be interested in being the other M?’ I hit send, smiling to myself a little, and chuck my phone back on the bedside table.

“Tell me about Dean”, Rob says — “I probably should know a bit about the guy who I might be getting naked next to.”

“Ha”, I respond, and launch into the story of Dean. A local guy, we’d met on a dating app, and fairly quickly established a regular weekly hang out — he’d come over, we’d have a few drinks and chat, followed by some awesome sex, and then he’d go home. Resolutely single, he bailed after a few months when I suggested that our Thursday sessions could be a concrete thing, so we didn’t have to arrange the meeting every week… apparently this was too much commitment. In fairness, I had probably gotten a bit attached to him, but I never wanted anything more, just a bit of certainty. We never really talked about any of that though — it just finished. But we remained on good terms — he’d done some work on my house, we still found it easy to be in each other’s company, and there was still definitely a flirty vibe to our interactions. I tell Rob all this while we’re finishing breakfast, with a few spicy details about the sex thrown in. In the middle of that, my phone pings.

‘I could be… when were you thinking? Oh, and hi. How are you?’ I show Rob and he laughs.

“I’m not here for long — best strike while the iron is hot.”

I know Dean’s days are always busy, so I’m not sure if this’ll happen, but it’s worth a try.

‘I’m great thanks. How’s this evening for you?’ A few minutes later, another ping.

‘Ha — you really are keen. But sure, I think I can make it work this evening. 7ish? Should I bring anything?’

I reply: ‘Beer. And an adventurous attitude.’

He messages back with a laughing emoji (as usual). Rob moves the plates off the bed, takes my coffee cup out of my hand and puts it on the bedside cabinet, and pulls me towards him, obviously turned on by the details I’ve shared about fucking Dean, and by the prospects the evening holds. It’s a few hours more before we venture out of bed, getting in a leisurely swim in the ocean and picking up a few things from town for dinner. Late in the afternoon I put clean sheets on the bed — the previous ones had gotten fairly filthy — and we have an early meal, Rob taking every opportunity he can to touch me, kiss me, fondle bits of my body while I’m cooking and tidying up. I’m a bit nervous — this is uncharted territory for me, and while I’ve thought about it often enough, I’m unsure how everything will work in reality. Just as I’m wondering if the guys will get on, what happens if they don’t, will it all just turn into a pissing contest?… my phone pings. It’s Dean.

‘Just heading into the shower and then I’m on my way over. Looking forward to watching you cum, and seeing how much fun you have — I always enjoy fucking you, and seeing someone else fucking you is definitely a bonus’.

I smile to myself, feeling more confident about the evening ahead, and message back: ‘The door won’t be locked — just let yourself in.’ I raise my eyes from my phone and see Rob looking at me smiling.

“Everything good hon?”

“Everything’s perfect”, I reply.

“Good”, he says. “I want this to be all about you. And you know to just let me know if you need things to stop, or you need anything at all?”

I nod, because I do know that — in fact, I’m confident that both of them actually do care about me, in their own odd ways… Dean’s text has reassured me about that, and now I’m excited and a little nervous, but good-nervous.

By 7, Rob and I have had a couple of drinks, so I’m nicely chilled out, while still quite excited. We’re sitting on the couch, talking about music, with our hands wandering over each other a little, when there’s a knock at the door. In my small house the door is only a few metres from the couch, so I can see Dean’s silhouette through the frosted glass, and get up to let him. (I don’t know why he always knocks — I’ve always said ‘just come in when you get here’, but he’s got some old-school manners going on that I obviously can’t shift.) He gives me a kiss hello, and I take the beers out of his hand to put in the fridge, opening him one in the process. He’s already gone through to introduce himself to Rob — they’re standing shaking hands, which for some reason makes me laugh — and Dean drops into the chair. The couch isn’t big enough for three people to sit comfortably, but I think he also just wants a bit of space to calibrate himself. We all make some small talk for a little while, Dean asking Rob what he’s been doing while he’s been back in the country, Rob asking Dean about the surf… but while we’re talking, Dean is also watching Rob’s hand move further up my leg, under my dress. I adjust myself a little so he can see Rob’s fingers skating over the outside of my underwear, and a small ‘mmmm’ escapes my mouth.

“I see I’m going to need a bit more beer to catch up with you two”, Dean says, and stands to go to the fridge.

As he walks past the back of the couch, he stops and leans over, pulling my face around a little with his right hand to kiss me. Long, slow — we’ve always kissed really well. As he’s kissing me, I feel Rob’s fingers slide in under the edge of my knickers. Another small groan escapes my throat, which Dean can feel through the kiss — he has a pretty good idea what’s caused that, and I can feel him smiling. His hand slides down my neck and down under the neck of my dress — still kissing me, he’s now cupping my left breast in his hand, feeling for the nipple through my bra, squeezing it a little. Rob pulls his fingers out.

“I just need her mouth for a second.”

Dean breaks off his kiss, and Rob slides his fingers in my mouth, while Dean is still squeezing my nipple. I know what Rob wants, and I’m careful to ensure that his fingers are as wet as possible when he pulls them back out and slides them back under my knickers, connecting with my clit. I tense a little… the feeling of him caressing my clit while Dean is applying more pressure to my nipple is quite intense, and my head is swimming a little with the physical sensations, but also the realisation that this is really happening. Dean recognises that tenseness.

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”

I look up at him, smiling. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Go on then”, he replies, while Rob is increasing the pressure on my clit — they both know I’m good for more than one. Probably more than ten. I can feel it mounting, my breath becoming audible, small moans. Dean leans over to kiss me again, tweaking my nipple extra hard, while Rob slides a finger inside me.

“Christ, you’re really wet”, he says, and all of that just pushes me over the edge. My body tenses more, stretching out, pushing against Rob’s fingers and pulling up into Dean’s mouth, my hand reaching around his head to pull him into the kiss that’s gotten harder, more urgent, until I squeal into his mouth a little, everything building up into an almost unbearable pressure… and then I release, arching back a little, my whole body straining into the feeling… and then the tension washes out of me. For now. Dean laughs, giving my nipple one last squeeze as he straightens up — he knows we’ve only just started. Rob pulls his fingers out of me and slides them into my mouth so I can taste my cum. Seeing this, Dean leans back into for another kiss, licking the taste off my lips.

“Mmmm”, he says, “I’d forgotten how good you taste… I might need a bit more of that soon.”

Dean turns and continues his interrupted trip to the fridge. Rob excuses himself briefly to use the bathroom, and I follow Dean to see if there’s more cider in there… there isn’t, but I find a bottle of wine and pour myself a glass. Dean’s opened his beer and is on the other side of the counter, smiling at me with a pretty cheeky grin.

“Are we having fun?” he asks.

“Always”, I reply, returning the bottle to the fridge and walking back towards the couch.

He grabs me as I’m passing, pulling me into him and kissing me. I’m a little bit compromised with a full glass in one hand, but I regain my balance, steadying myself by wrapping my free arm around him, pulling myself against him. He’s definitely a bit of a dad bod (mostly comprised of beer), but he’s a tradie and he surfs, so he’s also pretty fit, and I always loved the physicality of him. His hard cock is pushing against me, his tongue roaming around my mouth, his hand on my bum, squeezing hard. Returning from the bathroom, Rob is greeted with this sight. He pauses for a second, doing a quick assessment of the situation, and then comes in behind me, removing the glass from my hand and putting it on the bench.