It had been weeks since that first night -- the night we crossed into something deeper. Since Gayle took us both inside her and I let Alex enter me. Since I came inside her, my cock throbbing, while his pulsed inside me, and she whispered how much she loved watching it all.
We hadn't rushed to do it again. Instead, we let the moment live with us. We'd whisper about it when we made love. Replay it in our minds during slow kisses. Gayle would press her fingers between her thighs and say, "I can still feel both of you." And I'd get hard instantly, craving more.
Now, Alex was back.
He stood in our bedroom -- quieter this time, more grounded. Not performing. Just present. His clothes came off slowly, not from showmanship, but from readiness. His cock was already swelling. He was excited, but waiting -- respectful, as always.
Gayle sat on the edge of the bed in a thin silk robe, bare underneath. No makeup, just flushed skin and soft eyes. "You've thought about it, haven't you?" she asked.
"I haven't stopped," Alex said.
She glanced at me. "He's going to give you what you asked for tonight. But I'm going to give you to him."
She walked to him, stroked his chest, kissed his shoulder. Then turned back to me. "Sit. Let him show you how badly he wants it."
I sat on the edge of the bed. Alex knelt in front of me like he'd been waiting his whole life to be told to.
He took me into his mouth with slow reverence -- not rushing, not proving. Just worshipping. His lips wrapped tight, his tongue moved expertly, and he moaned softly with every inch. His hands slid up my thighs as he sucked, holding me steady like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Gayle watched us for a moment, then crawled up next to me. Her hand wrapped around the base of my shaft while Alex sucked the top. "God, you're hard," she whispered. "He loves the way you taste."
Alex moaned around my cock. Then one hand slipped lower, between my legs. He circled, teased, and pressed.
Gayle whispered in my ear, "Let him touch you... let him feel how much you want him..."
His finger entered slowly, already slick with lube. He found my rhythm instantly -- matching the slow strokes of his mouth with a deeper, curling pressure inside me. I groaned, head falling back. Gayle kissed my neck and said, "You want to cum like this?"
"I want to fuck him."
She smiled. "Then let me make him ready."
Gayle slid behind Alex. She pulled his hips back and parted his cheeks with soft, reverent hands. Her fingers coated in lube, she teased his rim, circled, pressed. "You want him to take you again?"
Alex whimpered. "Yes. I want to feel every inch. I want to feel him fill me while I fuck you."
"You'll take him slowly," she said, slipping one finger inside, then two. "And you'll beg for it."
"I already am..."
She stretched him gently, kissed his lower back, worked him open until her fingers glided in and out like a pulse. "You're dripping," she whispered. "And I haven't even let him in yet."
She laid back on the bed and opened her legs wide. "Come here," she said to Alex. "Fill me first."
He crawled over her, still gasping, and entered her slowly. She was soaked -- her folds glistening, her body ready. "God," she gasped. "You feel so good..."
Their hips began to move -- slow, deep. Her moans filled the room.
Then she reached down, dipped her fingers where they were joined, and brought the slick mess to my cock. "Use me," she whispered. "Use my cum to fuck him."
I knelt behind Alex. She guided me -- her hand stroking me, coating me. Then she placed me at his entrance, spreading him slowly with her other hand.
"Take your time," she whispered to me. "Make him feel it."
I pushed in -- just the tip. He gasped. "Yes..."
