Fulfilling Jamie

This story depicts graphic, unprotected sex between legal adults. All legal disclaimers apply.

*

I stared at the reflection gazing back at me, and found myself not completely disappointed. I was twenty-seven now, but I still could have passed for twenty-one. Time had made my hips a little bigger had made my cheeks a little rounder, but my breasts were still firm and my skin was still soft. My black hair hung at a shoulder-length bob.

I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my black pinstripe blouse. Underneath was a maroon spaghetti-strap camisole with no bra, because I liked the way it showed off my cleavage, and accentuated my nipples in the cold weather. I took one last look at myself, smiled, and left the rest-station bathroom.

Stephen, my boyfriend of three years, was finished pumping gas and waited in the car. Time had made him a little softer too, except for where it counts. That part was always firm. His hair was spiked with red highlights, his jeans were torn, his patchwork Misfits jacket was dirty. He looked like a punk-rocker in his teens - you'd never guess he was closing in on thirty.

"Jaime baby," he began. "Ready to go?"

I got in the car and put a hand on his thigh. "Always. Do you think he'll be happy to see us?"

"Baby, anybody would be happy to see you." He smiled with a face that made my legs tremble as we embarked on the last leg of our journey.

We were on our way to visit Ben, an old friend of ours from back in the day. Ben was the nicest guy in the world, and I met him through Stephen years ago. They used to work in a deli together before Ben moved to Monterey to open his own bakery. I was always surprised by how different he and Stephen were, yet how close they seemed. Stephen was rough around the edges, a real man's man. Stephen was a mechanic now, unafraid to get his hands dirty. Ben, however, was a baker and a poet. He was thin and lanky and almost effeminate.

And he was bisexual.

Stephen has never had an opinion on homosexuality except that it wasn't for him. He had no queer friends outside of Ben, and scoffed at the idea of men needing hair-dryers or pedicures. Ben had no such reservations, and were it not for the occasional fling with some hot young girl, I would have sworn he was outright gay.

I asked Stephen once how he felt about Ben's lifestyle. "It's none of my business unless I'm sitting on his lap," he would laugh.

The rain was falling as we sped down the freeway, and I found myself thinking of Ben more and more. I love Stephen dearly, and have no doubt in my mind that I will be Mrs. Stephen one day. Stephen has always been eager to fulfill every desire I've had, with a passion even I find hard to believe all these years later. In the heat of the moment he will take me in the hall of our apartment complex, or in the back of a movie theater. He can take his time and be the gentlest lover I've ever had, or he can be forceful and leave me unable to walk for an hour. There was only one fantasy I've ever had that I've been too afraid to bring up with Stephen, one that I could never imagine anyone but Ben understanding.

That was to be taken by two men simultaneously.

And that's why I couldn't stop thinking about Ben, and why I was willing to drive three hundred miles to spend the weekend with him. While I couldn't imagine anything coming of it at the time, being so close to the fantasy left me damp and short of breath.

I nibbled a little on Stephen's ear and whispered, "I can't wait until we have some alone time."

He whispered back, "We'll have to get Ben drunk and passed out early then."

I moved my hand up from his thigh over to crotch of jeans. I could feel his six-inch member at full attention, throbbing. I gave it a little squeeze, and the car involuntarily jerked forward.

"Baby," he whispered, "you're going to make me lose control."

"I think that's the point," I giggled, and slid my hand down the waist band of his briefs.

"Baby your hand is so cold."

"Well maybe this will warm it up," and mischievously I started to stroke him.

He started to moan - we hadn't had sex in a few days, so I knew he was hurting for some release. I grinned at him as I undid the button of his pants with my free hand, then slid his zipper open. He groaned as I pulled his cock up and over his briefs. With the rain and the sun setting Stephen had to keep his eyes glued to the road, but I knew what he was really concentrating on. I began to stroke him faster, no longer restricted by his outer garments.

"Do you like that?" I asked rhetorically.

He never took his eyes off the road, only responding with an "mmm-hmmm."

I stroked still faster, feeling him arouse to full potential. The situation was turning me on, and I squeezed my thighs together for a little needed stimulation. His breathing started becoming erratic, and I knew he was close. I thought about the situation, and the mess we were about to make, and I realized I only had one option if I didn't want to have to pull over again so that he could change his pants.

"Are you close?" I asked.

He meekly nodded his head.

I leaned over the center console and, with the parking break lever sticking into my ribs, I slid his head into my mouth. It was so hard, and when I squeezed it against my tongue and the roof of my mouth it felt like stone. My head started bobbing up and down, I used my saliva to lubricate my still stroking hand.

"I going to come," he whispered. "Baby, you're going to make me..."

With that he took a hand off the steering wheel and pulled my hair. Simultaneously his hips pumped up, forcing his member into my throat. I heard the engine rev still faster as he began to fuck my face, chanting "Baby... oh, baby... BABY!"

The first hot load shot straight down my throat, but I didn't gag. I just kept letting him thrust into my mouth, each load feeling like a mortar exploding in my mouth. It was hot and sweet and salty, and when he started to calm I gripped his shaft and squeezed the last few drops of it out, then swallowed.

"I love you so much," he laughed.

And I loved him too.

***

When Ben answered the door he was still in his black, terry-cloth bathrobe. It was already seven in the evening, but the life of a baker meant that he typically worked from three AM to noon on his bread, then slept from one to about nine at night. His dimples showed as he smiled, obviously happy to see us. "sorry about the mess guys," he laughed, "but I'm not usually up this early."

His tiny studio apartment smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, but other than an unmade bed there was no mess to be found. When we walked in there was an immaculate bathroom directly to our right, and a bed to our left which took up the majority of the apartment. Around the corner beyond the bathroom was a cute little breakfast nook, and a kitchen unbefitting a cook of Ben's talent. Beyond the far side of the room was a little balcony.

Ben's black hair stood up, with the left side of it matted by his pillow. Naked under his robe and unshaven, he could easily have passed for a patient at an asylum. It was not the Ben we were used to seeing.

"Rough day at work?" Stephen asked.

"Yeah, I wanted to take the weekend off with you guys coming down, so I made triple the dough as usual so that the guys would just have to come in and bake it. Still, for the next forty-eight hours, I'm all yours!" and with that he excused himself, locking the bathroom door behind him and starting the shower.

"That Ben," Stephen laughed. "Who would have thought that a baker would work so motherfucking hard?"

I sat on Ben's bed, still warm from his body. The sheets smelled faintly like Cool Water and fine cigarettes, and I found myself involuntarily holding his pillow to my face and breathing in.

"You trying to make me jealous?" Stephen laughed.

"Oh baby, you know I couldn't want anyone else." I felt ashamed when I said so, because I don't typically lie to him.

***

The Ben we knew emerged from the bathroom, all pressed oxford shirts and Italian-made silk ties. He was wearing black slacks, and polished leather shoes. His hair looked perfectly styled, and his face was clean shaven and smooth. He looked like a completely different person. "Are we ready to go?" he smiled.

We started the evening with fine pasta and wine courtesy of a local Italian restaurant. When it was time for the check to arrive, a tremendous middle-aged Greek man who I could only assume was the owner of the establishment simply stated "It is my pleasure to service an artist such as Benjamin. This was on the house."

Ben shook his hand and laughed, and left a hundred dollar bill on the table anyways. "For the waitress then," he said.

When the owner was gone and we were taking the napkins off our laps, Stephen laughed then asked "So do you bake for him, or blow him?"

"A little of both, depending on my mood." I found myself suddenly stimulated by the fact that Ben wasn't being sarcastic.

From dinner we went on for shooters at a local dive, and then for my sake the boys took me to a dance club with a full martini bar. I wanted to dance, but Stephen wasn't really the dancing type. I looked over to Ben. "What say you come over to the dance floor and sweep me off my feet?"

With that Ben blushed a little. "I seem to have this funny habit of losing friends after I dance with their significant others."

"Come on, you don't mind, do you Stephen?"

Stephen looked unsure, and kept glancing back at Ben and myself.

"Come on Steve, let me have some fun!" He hated it when I called him Steve, so I only did it when he was doing something that annoyed me.

Defeated, he just sighed. "Have fun, guys."

Ben wasn't about to let his friend be left behind, however. "How about we both dance with her Stephen?"

"I don't know," and Stephen shook his head. "It's not really my thing."

Ben took his hand and pulled Stephen to his feet. Even I couldn't do that.

"Well then I promise to be as flaming as possible while we're out there," Ben laughed, "to make sure everybody's looking at me, and nobody's looking at you."

Stephen laughed, and for the first time looked like he wasn't totally appalled by the idea. In between the two, holding hands in a chain, we all went over to the dance floor.

There was only one guy, some metro preppy fuck, who gave Stephen a dirty look. When Ben looked him in the eye and mouthed "I want to suck your cock," he quickly made himself scarce.

I never understood why Stephen was so against dancing, as he had a terrific sense of rhythm. I danced between the two of them, with Stephen typically behind me and Ben in front. As the crowd got larger, both got closer, and soon our trio was cheek-to-cheek-to-cheek. We were all pretty tipsy at this point, so I stuck my butt out a little further until it was pressing into Stephen's crotch. I waited to make sure I felt him aroused, and only after I knew he was completely in the moment, I pulled Ben a little closer to me.

"Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls came over the loud speakers, and everything slowed down. I was intoxicated by the smell of these men's skin, and the weight of their bodies pinning me between them. When the chorus hit, I felt Stephen grinding into me from behind, and I spread my legs a little to give him access to crease of my backside. His cock dry humping me between my cheeks, I began to match his rhythm until my pelvis started rubbing up and down on Ben's cock.

Ben stopped for a split second, then resumed the dance. He never looked me in the eyes, but slowly he began to grind back into me. I had always assumed that someone as feminine as Ben would have a smaller penis, but the mammoth bulge that milled against my clit told me that I was wrong. It felt like the biggest cock I had never seen.

I started panting, sandwiched between the two of them, and looked into Stephen's eyes. His head on my shoulder, he looked down and knew exactly what I was doing. My heart skipped a beat as I anticipated his response. I was surprised to find his eyes glaze over in passion, and he kissed my, his tongue entering my mouth and dancing to the rhythm of the song. I took a deep breath of relief when the song climaxed.

Silently, so did I.

***

We were all on the verge of being full-blown trashed when we got back to Ben's place. I kicked off my heels and took a seat on the foot of the bed, rubbing my red-velvet-cake cheeks. "So how do sleeping arrangements work with three people in a studio apartment?" I asked.

"I've got a sleeping bag from when I first moved in," Ben volunteered. "I'll crash on the floor."

"I need to wash up," Stephen drawled, still cloudy from the alcohol and arousal. "Any spare towels?"

"Yeah, I'll dig 'em up," and with that Ben made a beeline for the linen closet as Stephen and I went for the bathroom.

As I finished brushing my teeth, I confessed to Stephen "That was the most turned on I've been, out there at the club. You can really dance!"

Stephen was washing his face. "Baby, I feel like I'm going to explode."

"I can't wait until Ben's asleep," I smiled.

Stephen shut off the faucet. He grabbed my by the waist and pulled me into him, his hard cock grinding into my hip bone through our clothes. "Baby, I don't think I CAN wait."

With that he kissed me, our tongues meeting for another duel. Everything was moving so fast that I couldn't help myself, and I started undoing his belt as he pulled my cami over my head. The cold apartment air made my nipples taut as Stephen kissed me, making his way down my neck to my breasts, then down my belly and to my pants. With a combination of hands and teeth he undid my belt and pulled both my pants and my lavender cotton panties down to my ankles. Nuzzling between my swollen lips, he lapped up the moisture accumulating inside me. His tongue spread me open, motioning as if licking an ice cream cone. He worked his way from my sex up to my clitoris, and gave it a few sharp brushes.

The bathroom door opened. "These towels are for you," Ben began, but stopped mid-sentence. I had both hands in Stephen's hair as his mouth teased at my aching orifice. I expected him to stop at any moment, but Ben's presence seemed to only strengthen his resolve as he slid one, then two fingers inside of me.

"Honey," I panted, "You're gonna make me..." I couldn't finish my sentence, instead moaning at the top of my lungs as my orgasm enveloped me. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me as my most intimate places spasmed and jerked with ecstasy.

Ben still stood at the doorway, gripping his towels and wondering where this was headed. Stephen began pulling the bundle of clothes at my ankles, gesturing me to step out of them until I was fully nude. I happily conceded.

By my hips he grabbed me and turned me until I was facing Ben. Ben and I shared the same shocked expression, wondering what Stephen had in mind. From behind me he started sucking on my neck, then licking his way down my spine to the small of my back, continuing on to my sensitive back door. He was naked, though I couldn't tell you at what point he had stripped.

Stephen knew that analingus drove me wild, made me uncontrollable, so I knew we were headed for a wild night when he started rubbing his tongue up and down my tightly puckered hole.

"Ben," he said, "You really got Jamie all excited back at the club. You'd be a pretty bad host if you didn't help me calm her down."

We were both taken aback by Stephen's words. Ben dropped his towels. "Well, I'd hate to be a bad host."

"I know you would," Stephen smiled, and resumed his voracious rimming.

Ben walked up to me until his cheek was against mine. I turned to look at him, and nose-to-nose we lost ourselves. He kissed me on the lips, as gentle as another woman, and cupped my breasts in his hands. We went on like this for what seemed like an eternity, Ben kissing me and Stephen rimming me with his strong hands on my waist.

Sensing my rising need, Ben got on his knees. I lifted a leg and propped a foot against the wall, both to gain balance and allow Ben access to my pussy. He went down on me with none of the urgency Stephen had, instead teasing me slowly and kindly. As he explored the folds of my cunt, Stephen continued his assault on my asshole. When I felt there tongues meet at my perineum, I felt another climax build.

"Guys," I breathed raggedly. "Guys, you're going to make me come."

Ben returned his attention to my clit, sliding two soft and slender fingers inside of me and making circular rubbing motions against my G-Spot. In perfect contrast, Stephen began to push his tongue inside of me from behind.

I watched the three of us in the mirror, my left hand gently playing with Ben's hair while my right hand pulled on Stephen's hair behind me. It was the hottest picture I had ever seen, and my body had never before known the pleasure of a simultaneous eating-out and rim job. "Oh I love you," I said hoarsely. "I love you both so much." The pressure inside of me pulsated and grew, and when my pelvis could no longer handle the pressure my orgasm exploded, and I screamed. All the subtly I had displayed at the club was gone now, completely ravished by the heat of the moment.

Ben continued to softly rub his tongue against my clit, this time indirectly against the side of my hood. I was surprised by how gentle he was, as I can't remember a time someone could continue to stimulate me post-orgasm without any hint of irritation. Stephen stood up and, cupping my breast, lined his cock up with my well-lubricated hole.

"Baby, I need you right now." He stated this as fact, not request, and slowly slid inside of me. He was so hard that I knew he wouldn't last long, but he didn't need to as yet another orgasm began building in my gut. Like a piston he hammered in and out of my as Ben continued his gentle massage of my clitoris with his tongue.

I've had dreams of nights just like this, a man kissing my most secret place as another drilled into me from behind, but I never thought I would ever have the pleasure. I swiveled my hips back and forth, increasing both the pressure of Ben's face in my lap and the force of Stephen's dick burrowing into me.

I just kept repeating "Don't Stop! Don't Stop!" when once again the passion overtook me. Stephen was squeezing my breasts now, grunting hard. As my climax hit, I felt his hard cock fill me with hot seed and it was too much. It had only happened once before, but I began to ejaculate, squirting my girl-cum into Ben's face. Deep down inside I was panicked, unsure of whether or not Ben was going to make of it, but it didn't matter in the end. He opened his mouth and accepted gush after gush of my cum, still stroking my clit with his tongue.

My legs were trembling when Stephen's cock, now limp, dropped out of me. I looked back and forth between the two, unsure of what was coming next. Ice cold, a stream of Stephen's semen made its way to the joint of my leg and trickled down the inside of my thigh. Ben looked up at me and Stephen for our silent approval, then worked his lips from my knee, sucking at the inside of my thigh, and then licking into my warm inside and lapping Stephen's load from inside of me. This too was something I'd never expected of the evening.

Stephen whispered, "I think I'm going to need a little tidying up too."

Ben looked up and smiled, then took Stephen's member in his mouth. He rocked his head back and forth, and soon Stephen was erect again, his eyes closed and his head back. I think Ben must have sucked a lot more cock than I have in our lives, because he took all of Stephen's shaft in his throat, than began licking his balls before pulling off.

"All clean?" he laughed.

"Yep," Stephen smiled. "Baby, I think we're being a little selfish to our host. I think we have a favor to return."