Content warning: this story depicts an MMF threesome between a cis woman, a trans man and a cis man. "Feminine" words are used to describe the trans man's genitalia. Fisting is described in this story. If this is not your thing please move on.
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Sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting warm streaks over the bed where Anna and Wolf lay entangled. Her hand rested lightly on his chest, fingers idly tracing the lines of muscle, rising and falling with his breath. He stirred slightly, and she smiled to herself, nuzzling in closer.
"Hey, sleepyhead," she whispered against his neck.
Wolf made a soft, contented noise in response, not quite ready to open his eyes yet. Anna's fingers wandered slowly, tenderly, like she was learning him all over again, massaging little knots in his shoulders, working her way down his spine. He melted under her touch, sighing deeper into the mattress, eyelids fluttering open just a little.
Her hand slipped lower, fingertips brushing the swell of his ass before dipping between his thighs, parting him just slightly. Her touch was slow, deliberate--nothing to chase, just the gentle attention of someone who wanted to make him feel worshipped. She slid a finger along his folds, slick from sleep and softness, and began massaging him there. Circling, teasing, pressing in a little, pulling back.
Wolf exhaled deeply, a low hum of pleasure vibrating in his throat. He rolled slightly toward her, letting her have access, not needing anything more than what she was giving.
"You're magic," he murmured.
Anna smiled and kissed his jaw. "Just enjoying the view."
She kept it slow, dragging it out like the morning itself--no pressure, no urgency. Just the wet, warm sounds of her fingers gliding against his cunt and the steady rhythm of their breathing.
Eventually, she slowed, letting her hand rest still against him. "You hungry?" she asked with a small smile, brushing hair back from his forehead.
Wolf blinked at her, dazed in the best way. "I could eat."
She smirked, pulling the sheets back and slipping out of bed. "I was thinking shower first. Then coffee. Then maybe that joint I saw in Tristan's kitchen drawer."
He groaned happily. "It's like you're reading my mind."
She turned, giving his ass a playful swat before heading to the bathroom. "Come on, dreamboat. Let's rinse off and make ourselves decent before we ruin Tristan's appetite."
Wolf watched her go, still basking in the afterglow of her touch, then swung his legs over the side of the bed with a sleepy grin.
The bathroom was warm with soft steam from the water Anna had already turned on. Morning light streamed in through the frosted window, casting blurred shadows on the tiles. She was standing beneath the spray when Wolf stepped in, his bare feet quiet on the cool floor.
Anna turned, her hair already wet and sticking in dark waves to her back. "There you are," she said softly, her smile radiant in the rising mist.
Wolf stepped into the shower, letting the water hit his shoulders, and they both sighed at the same time--Anna laughing gently as she reached for him. He leaned into her arms, his forehead resting against her collarbone. The water pattered around them as her hands moved slowly over his back, up his spine, over his shoulders. Just touch--no urgency, no heat--only the kind of intimacy that asked for nothing in return.
"Feels good," he murmured against her skin.
"I like touching you like this," she replied, reaching for the gentle body wash on the shelf. She poured some into her palms and began working it into his skin, circling over his chest, his arms, his hips.
Wolf closed his eyes and let himself be taken care of. Her hands moved with care, lathering him slowly, pausing at the curve of his waist, the line of his thighs. She washed him like it mattered, like it meant something.
He took the bottle from her when she was done, and without a word, returned the gesture. She tilted her chin up, her eyes soft, and let him touch her in the same way. His palms skimmed her curves, smoothing soap over the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the strong lines of her thighs. It wasn't sexual, not in the way it had been the night before. It was reverent. Simple. Human.
They rinsed off slowly, trading little smiles, glances, lazy touches.
"Do you feel more awake?" Anna asked, brushing his wet hair back and kissing his forehead.
"Yeah," Wolf said quietly, "but also like I could stay in here with you forever."
Anna chuckled and pinched his side gently. "We'll turn into prunes."
They stepped out together, wrapping themselves in towels, drying each other's skin like it was a shared ritual. When they were done, Anna reached for his hand and laced their fingers together.
"Let's find Tristan," she said, her voice warm. "I'm sure he's made something ridiculous for breakfast."
Wolf grinned. "As long as there's coffee."
They padded out of the bathroom hand in hand, the warmth of the shower still lingering between them.
The scent of dark roast coffee and sizzling butter rolled through the apartment, drifting lazily down the hallway. Morning light slanted in through the blinds, catching dust motes in its glow and warming the pale tile floor.
Tristan was already at the stove, barefoot in a pair of loose shorts, humming something upbeat while flipping pancakes like he was born doing it. A joint rested behind one ear, forgotten for now.
Anna padded in first, damp hair loose around her shoulders, wearing one of Wolf's tees knotted casually at the waist. She looked soft and flushed, like the afterglow still lingered on her skin. Wolf followed a moment later, sleep-ruffled and bare-chested, his body moving with that grounded, masculine ease that never seemed performative--just natural.
"You're up early for someone who swore they needed to recharge their soul after last night," Wolf murmured, voice still husky from sleep.
Tristan glanced over his shoulder, flipping a pancake with a bit too much flair. "I am recharging. With pancakes. And maybe a little ego boost."
Wolf snorted and walked past him, casually smacking Tristan's ass as he did. "More like ego inflation. You keep this up, you're gonna float away."
Tristan grinned and gave him a sharp slap in return. "You like it."
Wolf raised an eyebrow without turning around. "Didn't say I didn't."
Anna snickered as she grabbed mugs from the cabinet. "Should I leave you two alone?"
Tristan leaned in, whispering dramatically to her, "He's obsessed with me."
"Deeply," Wolf added dryly, reaching for the coffee pot. Their hands brushed. Anna didn't move hers right away, and when she did, her fingers lingered. She tucked her hair behind one ear, smiling in that quiet way she had--just for him.
"Morning," she said softly.
"Hey," Wolf replied, eyes locked on hers. The way he said it made it feel like he was still waking up, but only to her.
Tristan pretended to gag. "Ugh. The smolder. You two are unbearable."
Anna turned and stuck out her tongue at him before sliding onto a stool. "Says the man who narrated his own orgasm last night like it was a dramatic monologue."
"I am the drama," Tristan said, plating the last pancake. "And you're just mad I made Wolf whimper."
Wolf rolled his eyes but couldn't help the crooked grin. "You got one whimper. Maybe two."
"I counted three," Tristan replied, sliding a plate in front of him. "And I made breakfast, so don't test me."
Anna laughed, accepting her plate. She reached out and gently brushed a crumb from Tristan's cheek before flicking his nose. "You're so annoying."
He kissed the back of her hand, eyes warm. "You adore me."
"Unfortunately."
They shared a look--years of friendship condensed into a heartbeat. It wasn't flirty, not really. Just deep and familiar and full of love.
Wolf watched it, amused. "You two are like an old married couple."
Anna shrugged. "He's the wife."
Tristan raised a brow. "Please. I'm the emotionally unavailable husband who gets custody of the dog in the breakup."
Wolf leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee, his thigh brushing Anna's under the table. She didn't move away. If anything, she angled slightly toward him. He noticed. Of course he did.
"You two always this exhausting in the morning?" he asked.
"Only when we're happy," Anna replied.
Tristan slid into the seat across from them, sipping his coffee like he was watching a private show. "And I have to say, watching you two flirt like teenagers is better than any porn I've seen lately."
"We're not flirting," Anna said, all innocent.
Wolf smiled into his mug. "No. Definitely not."
Tristan raised both brows. "Sure. That's why her foot's between your thighs right now."
Anna kicked him gently under the table.
"See?" he said, smug. "Violent affection. Classic sign of love."
They all laughed. Easy, loose, with the kind of warmth that stuck to the skin long after. Outside, the world was still waking up. But here, in this kitchen, it already felt like a good day.
Tristan's apartment was one of those rare places that felt like a lived-in sanctuary--half jungle, half den of delightful sin. The sliding doors to the garden were pushed all the way open, letting the warm morning air roll in. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of tall trees and overgrown herbs, dappling the worn floorboards and casting soft, shifting shadows across the space. A breeze brought in the faint scent of rosemary and damp soil, carrying birdsong and the occasional buzz of a bee.
They'd drifted from the kitchen to the sun-warmed couch like it was the most natural thing in the world, coffee mugs still in hand. The couch was oversized, sun-faded, and lived-in like everything else in Tristan's home, draped with blankets and mismatched cushions. Wolf had settled in the corner, legs spread in loose cotton fold pants that hung low on his hips--clearly nothing underneath. His chest was bare, still kissed by sleep and Anna's fingertips.
