Fuck is the greatest word in the English language. Fuck can be almost any part of speech; it can be destructive, harsh, and cruel, but it can also be loving, seductive, and beautiful. Despite its range of meanings and possible intentions, it still has the ability to be bluntly accurate.
That night in the living room, Sam and I fucked Jane. We did not just have sex with her, and we most certainly did not make love—love had nothing to do with the animalistic, lustful rage with which we attacked each other.
The three of us lounged on the couch watching a movie. I don't recall which flick because I was anxious and not really paying attention. We had a somewhat pre-coordinated plan; we were just waiting for a mutual sign to commence the festivities. I was anxious, Jane was visibly excited, and I don't think Sam really cared either way considering he was eating popcorn and actually following the plot of the movie and laughing on cue.
Jane could tell I was nervous, and had every intention of taking advantage of my hesitations for her own personal amusement. Her hand playfully crawled under the blanket and meticulously climbed up my leg, one finger at a time, lightly caressing my inner thigh. She was careful to apply enough pressure to show her true intentions and prove she was in control here. Her hand knowingly stopped a few inches below the growing bulge in my jeans, and while she massaged my thigh, her eyes quickly darted over to mine, giving away the subtlety she had tried to create.
My eyes admittedly had spent most of the evening locked on her breasts begging to burst forth from their confinement in her tight white tank top. My lustful stares, quiet moans of anticipation, and "innocent" brushes against her soft skin had not gone unnoticed, and Jane refused to politely play along anymore.
Her hand skipped the slow climb up my leg and lunged straight for my belt. While she swiftly removed the barriers between her hand and its goal, our lips fiercely locked, tongues entwined, and my hand shot for the tits they had been pining for all day.
Sam eventually realized the commotion next to him and pulled his attention away from the television.
"Oh, are we finally starting?" he asked, interest quickly spreading through his stocky features. Dropping the popcorn bowl to the floor, he helped me rip Jane's tank top off, and his mouth darted for the bare breast I had yet to claim. Jane doubled her efforts to remove my clothes as she moaned her approval of Sam's tongue bathing her erect nipple.
"You have no idea how hard it was to resist the urge to drag you to the restroom and fucking you in the stall today at the mall," I whispered in her ear as she managed to wrestle my pants and underwear off in one motion.
"Shut up" was her only reply as she dove to wrap her lips around my awaiting cock. Sam took the opportunity to deftly tear his own clothes off. I tried unbuttoning my own shirt, but Jane's talented tongue destroyed my attention towards such trivial activities. Laughing at my pleasurable struggle, Sam leaned over and helped me out of my remaining clothes; then, with the same skill and eagerness Jane and shown towards me, Sam swooped down upon Jane's pants and jerked them down, revealing her magnificent tight ass. I gaped longingly as Sam lifted her leg and offered his wide tongue to her visibly wet pussy lips. He wasted no time going slow and teasing; he focused directly on her engorged clit while his fingers plunged into her. With every luscious tongue lashing from Sam, Jane dedicated herself more fervently to blowing me. One hand massaged my shaved sac while the other twisted up and down in motion with her mouth, spreading her saliva along the entirety of my shaft.
