New Message

This occurs after my story "Hold Me Down." However, you don't have to read that first, just know that this is an established M/M/F poly relationship. And I know some people like a threesome to be even on all sides, and I do as well. However, in this story, feelings might be even - but participation is definitely not. All characters are 18 or older.

*****

"Hello? Pablo?" Stephen said, then he switched his phone to the other ear so that he could swing his bag up onto his shoulder.

"Hello, Stephen."

"Do you want me to pick up anything for dinner?"

"Hmm. When will you be home?"

Stephen smiled at the shorthand for Pablo's apartment. Though they weren't actually living together, Stephen spent more time at Pablo's apartment than at his own; it was situated almost exactly between his own place and Molly's, and Pablo had the biggest shower out of all of them, besides.

He didn't answer for a few seconds as he elbowed open the door of his university's maths building. The wind hit him as soon as he was through it, warm and humid, flattening his shirt against his body. He held the door open for a group of students fleeing the first scattered drops of rain.

"Two or three hours, maybe," Stephen said, eyeing the sky. He frowned at the dark, heavy-bellied clouds over the quad and gave up on the idea of spending his free period in one last pre-exam note-skimming session at the park benches. He ducked back into the building and stepped into an empty classroom.

"You could get some fish," Pablo said. "And we're low on orange juice."

Stephen sat at a desk and opened his laptop. "Easy enough," he said.

"All right. Good luck on your... "

Just then, Stephen heard Molly's voice over the line, calling Pablo's name. His eyes went unfocused and the notes he had pulled up on his screen completely slipped out of his mind. Heart beating faster, he listened the the high

Mmmm!

and the low grunt uttered directly into the receiver of the phone. In his mind's eye, he saw Molly throwing her arms around Pablo's waist and trying to squeeze the life out of him.

He heard a quick rasp of static, then, "Stephen!"

"Molly," he said, smiling. "You're back early."

"Yeah, we took an earlier flight - I didn't want to wait another day. I've missed you so much!"

"I have too," Stephen said. "Did you have a good trip?"

"It was great! I'll tell you all about it later. I got you presents. When can you come home so I can give them to you?"

Stephen sighed. "It'll be a few hours. I have an exam next period that might take a while."

"Awww! Well, okay," she said, the disappointment evident in her voice. Then she laughed, the sound distant.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer, more serious. "I wish you were here now, though. I really did miss you."

"I know," he said, and he tapped the space bar abstractedly. "You were gone for so long. I barely remember what you look like."

Then she laughed again, into the phone this time. "Of course you do! I was only gone for a month. But hang on."

And then she was gone, and he didn't get the chance to explain to her that when you've been dating someone for two months, one month really

is

a long time. Not that he begrudged her the trip with her best friend Tessa, or wished that she hadn't gone, but he had felt every single day of her absence, and he was certain Pablo had, too. He glanced at his laptop screen and undid the accidental changes he'd made to the document.

"Okay, I'm back," she said, and he could hear her smiling. "You've got a text."

As she said it, his phone gave a little beep, and he tilted it down to look at the screen. "Checking it," he said, loud enough for her to hear him, and he thumbed to the message. From Molly, of course, with a picture attached.

He opened the file, and he felt as if the breath had been squeezed out of him. There was Molly, lying back on the couch with her head on the armrest, bright auburn hair spilling everywhere, grinning brightly at the camera as she held Pablo's phone to her ear. It wasn't the best picture he'd ever seen of her, but just knowing that that was

Pablo's

couch she was sitting on, and that she was there

right now

was enough to make him sigh in a complicated mixture of happiness, longing, excitement and frustration. Sure she was there, probably with her legs draped over Pablo's lap, her suitcases piled up beside the door, home to stay... but he was

here

, and skipping his exam to run home was absolutely out of the question. Even if he decided to, Pablo and Molly probably wouldn't let him.

He switched back to the call. "You look beautiful."

It took Molly a second to answer, and Stephen realized that Pablo had probably been kissing her. He didn't blame them one bit. If he'd been there, he'd be kissing her, too

"You hush," she said, and her voice was lower again, and slightly rougher. The sound of it like that, and the knowledge of what that meant, made his lower belly give a slow, hot twist. Then she said, "Thank you," and he heard faint rustling.

He sighed. He didn't feel like he was interrupting or imposing, but there wasn't much he could do from all the way over here on campus. And he had a bit of studying to do besides. "Molly. I'm glad you're home."

"Me too, Stephen," she said, voice low and intimate and warm. The twisting in his belly moved lower, tightening his groin.

"I'm... going to go. I need to get ready for my exam. And Molly..." He tapped his fingers on the table, one quick run from pinky to thumb.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Our agreement. Forget about it, for today."

"What? We don't need to do

that

." Her voice sounded less drugged now, more aware.

"It's okay," Stephen soothed. "I know he's really missed you. You don't have to wait for me."

Molly was silent for a few seconds.

"I want you to," Stephen said. "It's okay. Okay?"

"Okay," Molly said. "But come home as soon as you can."

"I will."

"Good luck on your exam, Stephen."

"Thank you. See you soon."

Stephen ended the call and stared blankly at the screen of his laptop for nearly a minute. He was unsure what made him make that suggestion, but now that he was off the phone and Molly and Pablo were alone together, without him, he felt a little twinge of regret, followed by another, smaller one of jealousy.

But it was his own fault, he knew. Their agreement was in place for a few reasons, and Stephen knew that one of them was to stave off the unnecessary jealousy that he suspected was only a problem for him. It was simple, really: if the three of them were not together, there were a few things they wouldn't do. They saved oral and penetrative sex for the times when the three of them

were

together. It had worked beautifully for them, had made one-on-one makeout sessions somehow more exciting with limits in place, and had made the times they'd all been together feel even more satisfying. Besides, it was much easier to take a full night off to study or work when he knew he wasn't missing out on

everything

.

Now, though, it did feel like he was missing out on everything. He sighed and checked the time. If he hurried, he could get to Pablo's apartment in twenty minutes... and he'd be able to stay for three whole minutes before he'd have to leave again. That was no good. He frowned briefly, set the phone down on the table, and took a deep breath to clear his head so that he could focus on his notes.

He was partially successful, and he was fully glad that he had studied so thoroughly over the past few nights. This last skim of his notes was really just a habit, one he sometimes didn't need. Today, he didn't need it. And that was a good thing, because thoughts of Pablo and Molly together kept utterly destroying his concentration.

He blew out a hard puff of air in frustration and was about to pack up his laptop so that he could take a brisk, mind-clearing walk up and down the hall when his phone beeped.

He flipped it open. A text message from Molly, picture attached.

we didnt want u to b left out

, the text read.

He opened the image, and his eyes widened at the tiny picture of Molly, her hair fanning out around her softly smiling face, her shoulders naked. The picture cut off at the full, round upper swell of her bare breasts.

He stared, heart pounding. Then there was another message.

The text was only a smiley face, and the image attached was of Pablo, also shirtless. He was leaning over the camera, his heavily muscled arms braced to either side of it. His hair fell forward in dark waves, and he looked handsome and shy and maybe a little embarrassed.

Stephen felt embarrassed too, he realized. This felt wrong somehow. It felt crude and a little bit ridiculous.

The next beep startled him.

There was no text this time, just an image. It was obviously from Molly's point of view, and it showed most of her full, pale breasts. Pablo's big, dark hand cupped her left breast, and his open mouth covered her right nipple. Her hand tangled in his loose curls.

Stephen's embarrassment was obliterated by a hard, hot pulse of arousal.

Immediately, he got another message, text only.

we wont send any more if u dont want us to

He took a deep breath and dashed off a return message.

No one around. Don't stop.

As soon as he hit

send

, he stood and trotted to the classroom door. He closed it, then decided that if he was going to do this, he might as well make sure he wasn't caught in the act. He engaged the lock. He glanced at the narrow windows that lined the top of the outer wall; they were big enough to let in the grey light of the developing thunderstorm, but not low enough that he could be seen from the outside.

Just as he returned to his seat, his phone beeped.

We want to call you

No image, just the text, and it came from Molly's phone as the others had. But from the lack of spelling shortcuts, he knew the message came from Pablo.

He smiled and dialed.

"Stephen." Pablo's voice was a caress, and Stephen felt his ears go warm.

"Pablo," he said back, his voice barely more than a whisper around the name.

"Are you sure?" Pablo asked.

Stephen let out a quick, quiet snort. "Of course I am," he said, ignoring the fact that just a few minutes ago, he hadn't been sure at all. "I suggested it, didn't I?"

"I know," Pablo said. "But I know you."

Stephen frowned slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You do what's right, even if... "

Stephen's whole face was warm now, and for an entirely different reason. He hadn't been aware that his jealousy was so apparent.

"Even if it's not what you really want to do," Pablo finished.

Stephen couldn't find an answer, and Pablo was silent.

Let me.

Molly's voice.

"It's not a bad thing," she said as soon as she had the phone. "Stephen, don't you see? That's one of the things that's so amazing about you."

Stephen frowned at the table. "No. I don't believe that."

Incredibly, Molly laughed. "I'll convince you later, then, because that's not the point. The point is... we don't want anything that happens with us to be something that you don't want, okay? We don't want anything to be something that you do only because you

think

it's the right thing to do, when you really hate it."

It was easy enough to unravel the tangle of her sentences. "But I don't hate it. I don't hate this."

"Really?" The smile was back in her voice.

There was a long pause while he tried to decide how much he needed to say. He wanted them to enjoy themselves, wanted them to take full advantage of that rush that came with seeing someone you like so very much after a long absence. He didn't want the fact that he wasn't there to lessen the intensity of it. And... he was grateful, almost pathetically grateful that they were trying to include him, anyway.

In the end, he didn't say any of it. He grinned and hoped that Molly could hear at least some of it in his voice. "Yeah. Really."

"Good."

"So, should I get off the phone now? And you can send me pictures?"

"Stay on the phone!"

He laughed quietly. "All right. Send the pictures to my email, then."

Molly made a sound that he only ever heard when they were naked together, a pleased, almost smug humming sound. It sent a thrill of desire down his spine that pooled between his hips, turning and twisting as he listened to her breathe. He heard a shuffle, a rustle, a low, breathy gasp. Pablo murmured something unintelligible in the background.

"Check your mail," Molly said.

Heart thudding in anticipation, Stephen quickly opened his browser window and logged in. He clicked on his new email.

The attached image was from Molly's view, the camera aimed lower this time. The camera had captured her hips and spread thighs, Pablo's face kissing her inner thigh, his fingers stroking through her tight auburn curls. Stephen made a little sound into the phone and shifted in his chair.

Molly moaned softly. "Again," she said.

The next image was from the same angle, and now Pablo's hands were cradling Molly's outer thighs, his head was turned slightly to the side and his mouth was open, the edge of his tongue visible as the rest of it disappeared into her.

"Oh, Molly," Stephen murmured.

"Stephen..." Molly whispered. "I want to kiss you. I want your hands on me."

"Me too," Stephen whispered back.

Molly gasped in pleasure, and Stephen felt his cock twitch in his underwear. He shifted again uncomfortably, and spread his legs slightly to relieve some of the pressure.

New email. He clicked to it, his mouth dry. It showed Molly now, from Pablo's viewpoint. Her eyes were nearly closed, her lips parted, her breasts round and pale and bare, and Pablo's hand rested gently on her stomach, his thumb caressing her navel.

"Oh," Stephen said.

Molly breathed in response, then: "I can almost feel you touching me."

Stephen swallowed. He stared at the picture, and he could too; could almost feel the soft texture of her skin under his fingers, could almost feel the way her nipples would press against his palms, hard and pebbled. He stared at her image and imagined licking her stomach, remembered the way her skin tasted, the way she would moan when he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked.

"I can feel it," he whispered. "I can almost taste you."

Her gasp made him ache for her. His palms tingled. Small muscles in his groin tightened, and his cock shifted and strained in his pants.

"God, I want you," he said softly. To the sound of her shaky breathing, he reached forward and dragged a finger over his screen, tracing the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist, the bump of her hipbone. He closed his eyes and imagined going lower, dragging his fingertips through her damp curls, parting her wet lips and sliding his fingers inside her. He groaned.

"Touch yourself," she breathed.

His eyes shot open and he swallowed, the sound loud to his ears. A rumble of thunder echoed, shaking the windows of the classroom, and he heard a bright burst of chatter from the hall.

Could I? Could I really do that here?

He looked down at his crotch, his arousal unmistakable and obscene. He looked back at the image of Molly's body being touched by Pablo's hand.

A new message appeared in his inbox.

"Please, Stephen. Do this with us," Molly said.

He breathed out heavily and tapped his touchpad with a shaking finger, and he groaned when the image popped up on his screen: Molly from the waist down, her thighs spread wide, and the broad, ruddy head of Pablo's dick pressed against her pussy. Even in this low-resolution image, he could see that the swell of Pablo's head was shining with wetness, as were Pablo's fingers, and that Molly's labia were plump and flushed dark pink with arousal.

"All right. I will," Stephen whispered. He lowered his hand to his lap and tentatively cupped his erection.

"Mmmh." Molly's deliciously low, rough humming sound again. "Are you hard?"

Stephen laughed briefly, breathlessly, and gave himself a gentle squeeze. "Of course."

He fumbled one-handed with his pants. "Send me another one, like that. When he's... " Feeling awkward, Stephen swallowed and licked his lips. He pulled the tab of his zipper down. "Going in."

Stephen glanced nervously at the door, then reached inside his pants and carefully withdrew his cock.

"Are you touching yourself?" Molly's voice was low and hoarse, and Stephen closed his eyes to listen to her hitching breath. He slid his fingers up the underside of his dick, and it was unbelievable how having her on the phone changed what would normally be such a low-intensity sensation into such a delicious shock of pleasure.

"Yeah." He wrapped his hand around his erection and gave it a slow pump. Mouth open, panting into the receiver, Stephen stroked himself in time with Molly's shaky breaths.

"Ooooh," she moaned, followed by a sharp hiss. He groaned. He knew that sound very well, had made it himself-when Pablo finally pushed inside him, always just a little too big and long and thick for the first minute. It was different for Molly, he thought, but not much different. Just different enough that her face always looked ecstatic, not pained: mindless with pleasure when Pablo slid so carefully inside her.

"Stephen," Molly breathed. The sound of his name while Pablo slowly filled her sent heat sizzling through him, and he bit his tongue, his fingers tightening on the phone.

He opened his eyes and saw that he had new mail. Cradling the phone between his shoulder and his cheek, he reached out to open the first message, and his hand sped on his cock when the picture loaded: Pablo's dick spreading her open, the very tip of the head buried in her, the flare of the rim cradled by her wet, blushing outer lips.

"Oh god," he whispered.

The next picture must have been taken only a second or two later, because Pablo's head was inside her now, but not the rest of his long, veined shaft. His thumb rested on the center of the shaft, fingers curled under, steadying it as he pushed deeper.

Stephen gasped and slid his fingers through the wetness at his slit, smearing it down his shaft. He could see it as clearly as if he was there with them: Pablo rocking his hips slowly, pushing in a half-inch deeper with each thrust, his dick wetter each time he pulled out.

"Oh god, Molly."

"Stephen, I want you so bad."

He groaned and leaned back, giving himself long, twisting strokes, now made slick and easy by his precum. He looked at the image on his screen and imagined himself sliding inside her, imagined the sweet wet clench of her pussy around his cock. He gasped, and he could almost smell her, the light scent of her perfume and the deeper, musky heat of her arousal mingled with his own, and with Pablo's. All three of them together, oh god, and he wanted nothing more than to be home with them, taking part in this directly.

He groaned in desire, frustration, need.

"Breathe with me," Molly whispered, and Stephen grasped onto this. Her breathing was rapid and shuddery, and when he matched her tempo it made him dizzy. His arousal spiked, and breathing with her like this, he almost felt like he was there with them again.

He heard Pablo groan loudly, heard Molly moan, and he couldn't help but to moan with them. He slid his thumb over his now exquisitely sensitive head and slicked the added wetness down his cock, then cradled the phone against his shoulder again to pull the tails of his shirt out, spreading them on either side of his crotch.

"Oh," Molly gasped. "Oh, oh yeah, Pablo..."

Stephen couldn't match her breathing any longer; his was much too rapid for that, completely out of control. He glanced at the image on his screen through blurry eyes, then closed them and focused on Molly and Pablo's escalating moans and gasps.