Three Glasses

Lena had invited her single friend Claire over for drinks--a casual Thursday night to catch-up. She was wild girl and had a reputation for stories that were almost too outrageous to believe. She never held back, delighting in sharing the most debauched details of her sex life. And tonight, she was in rare form.

One bottle of wine turned into two and the conversation flowed freely.

Lena was delighted by Claire's scandalous tale of a weekend in Montreal with a set of identical twins.

Ryan chuckled along, but his cheeks burned. He wasn't used to conversations like this. Claire's stories were raw, vivid, borderline pornographic.

Then, out of nowhere, Lena turned the current directly on him.

"So, Claire," Lena asked, twirling her wine glass, "ever had a threesome?"

Claire didn't miss a beat. "Am I being propositioned by Mr. and Mrs. Vanilla?"

Lena let out a low laugh and shot Ryan a sideways glance. "I think that's a little advanced for us. At least, one of us."

Ryan rolled his eyes, playing along even as his chest tightened in on him. They both laughed in unison and then clinked glasses.

The night stretched on, laughter giving way to a low, warm buzz. Eventually they put Claire to bed in the extra bedroom left as she became a little unsteady on her feet.

When it was just the two of them in bed, Lena slipped beneath the sheets with a grin.

She ran a lazy hand down his chest. "How well do you know my body?"

Ryan chuckled. "I could recognize it blindfolded."

"Prove it," she said, and before he could respond, she was straddling him, a strip of soft fabric in her hands.

She wrapped it tight across his eyes putting him in total darkness.

He felt her move on top of him--slow and sensuous. Her hips rolled in teasing circles. Her lips brushed his--soft and familiar. Her hands wandered across his chest, down his sides. She knew exactly where to touch to make him squirm.

Yeah, he thought. Classic Lena.

Then suddenly, she was gone.

He heard the creak of the floor. Footsteps. A door opening and softly closing.

"Lena?" he asked, lifting his head.

No answer.

The bed dipped again, but something felt different.

The hands on him now were greedy. Less patient. Fingernails dragged across his chest, leaving trails of sharp, delicious pain. Then, with zero warning, a warm, wet mouth engulfed his cock in one long, obscene gulp.

Ryan's hips jerked off the bed. "Jesus," he gasped.

The sucking was loud, messy--nothing like Lena's usual careful style. She being sloppy, hungry, spit dripping down his shaft as eager fingers played with his balls.

Then a fingertip traced the cleft of his ass, slow and deliberate. It circled his rim--light at first, teasing--before applying the gentlest pressure.

His entire body tensed. A jolt of energy shot up his spine.

He heard a woman's dark chuckle and then she was gone.

More footsteps.

The bed shifted again.

The gentler touch now returned. Fingertips traced his shoulders, his jaw. A warm body curled against him, cradling his head, lips brushing his temple.

"Lena?" he whispered.

Still no answer. She just kept touching him, slowly, reverently. Tender hands that knew him.

But then they were gone.

The rough hands returned. They grabbed his cock, guiding him forward, and suddenly he was inside her hot, wet pussy. She pressed down on him in one sharp thrust, and began grinding him. She didn't care if she broke him.

He groaned, helpless under her. It was too much--too intense--but also fucking incredible. His body burned. Every nerve ending screamed. Her nails raked his face. She rode him without mercy.

His muscles clenched. His balls tightened. And with a strangled cry, he came harder than he ever remembered, spilling into her as she ground herself down, riding every last pulse.

Then she dismounted, leaving him shaking and gasping.

Footsteps.

The bed dipped again.

A warm body pressed against his side, soft lips at his ear.

"So, babe..." Lena whispered, her breath warm against his cheek, "was it just me?"

Ryan lay still, panting, skin damp with sweat, every muscle trembling. The room reeked of sex.

His hands reached up with trembling fingers. He yanked off the blindfold.

Lena was lying beside him, propped on one elbow, smiling from ear to ear. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils wide, her skin glowing.

The room was empty.

He looked around, trying to slow his breathing. On the dresser he saw three glasses--two of them smudged with lipstick.

His stomach twisted.

"Lena," he rasped, his voice raw.

Her eyes sparkled. "Yeah, babe?"

He swallowed hard. "Fuck."

She giggled, sliding a leg over his. "Yeah... fuck."

She leaned in and kissed him--slow, deep, and full of satisfaction.