Chapter 39. A Husband's Job
It looked like an explosion of evidence. "My God, you've got to get through all of this?"
An extraordinarily perky guy bopped up to him and grabbed the box from him. "Yep, all by tomorrow. Don't worry about the No-Doze/Caf-Pow cocktails, Abby and I are pros." He put the box down and hugged McGee, who was standing there very stiffly. "You're McGee, right? Abby said you'd be here in a few minutes."
"And you are?" he asked the complete stranger hugging him.
"Ramsey Boone."
"Hey, McGee," Abby breezed back into the lab. "This is Ramsey." She explained who Ramsey is, how they know each other, and more or less tells him that tonight is about to be a cross between a BFF's sleepover party and evidence-palooza.
"So, there's no shot of you coming home tonight?"
She kissed him. "Nope."
"Okay, then I'll see you in the morning." Boone was standing there grinning at them. Tim wasn't used to having anyone staring at him while he's kissing Abby, so he gave her another quick kiss and then headed home.
"So, he was your roommate in college?" Tim asks as he slips into his shoes Friday after work. They're in her office getting changed to go out.
"Yeah." She's changing out of what she wore to work, into something a little less formal? More formal? It can be hard to tell with Goth clothing. It's black and lacy. He's getting more dressed up because they're celebrating nabbing the Dead Rose killer.
His eyes narrow a little. "What kind of roommate?"
"Are you jealous?" Abby asks with a smile.
"In ten years, have I ever not been jealous of your boyfriends?"
She nods; the only boyfriends that haven't bothered Tim are the ones he hasn't known about. "The kind that spent full nights studying with me, and after we'd both aced the test we were studying for, we'd go to a bar and pick up guys together."
Tim smiles. "The kind of roommate I like."
 |
| "Ramsey would be so into you." |
Tim winces. "I probably didn't need to know that."
"Just you know, if you might be interested in a threeway, Ramsey would be so into you." She grins, very pleased with that double entendre.
Tim's rubbing his eyes, shaking his head.
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| "Don't you ever think about a threeway?" |
He looks up at her. "Okay, well, yes, but not with another guy."
"Double standard much?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Guys don't do anything for me. I have absolutely no desire to see another guy naked, and I really don't want another one watching me have sex, let alone touching me. And honestly, I don't care if it makes me a jerk, but I don't want to see another guy touching you, either."
"Fine." She hands him his tie. "So, who do you think about threewaying with?"
"Could we maybe do this after dinner?" he asks as he slips it through his collar.
"Why?"
"Because either I'm going to end up with a hard-on from talking about it, or you'll hear who it is and be unhappy with me, and either way, I'm not interested in sharing that with Ramsey and... Is he bringing a date?"
"Yeah, Kevin. They've been together for two years now." She looks non-plussed. "Back on topic, have I ever been annoyed with one of your fantasies?"
"No."
"Think I'm about to start?"
"I really hope not."
She takes over tying his tie. Not that he's bad at it or anything, just that it's close and caring and intimate. "Tim, honestly, there's not another person on earth who would annoy me."
"Really?" That's pretty reassuring.
"You could tell me you want to share me with Gibbs and it'd be cool." She finished the knot.
He winces again, a whole lot of mental images he could have happily spent the rest of his life without hitting him. "Oh God, that's so wrong. That's wrong on more levels than there are levels to be wrong on."
Abby laughs at that. "Every girl has a little bit of a daddy fetish."
"I needed to know that even less than I needed to know you've slept with Ramsey."
"The point is, I'm not going to freak out. Any woman you like enough to think about sleeping with, I'm probably going to like, too."
"You do like her."
Abby looked up, eyes bright.
"Really?"
He smiles, a little sheepish. "Yeah, really."
"Even better." She licked her lips, and Tim could feel his dick twitch a little at the idea of telling her about this.
"Okay, good. And that's where this conversation stops, because I'm not going to dinner with your ex-roommate, especially with your gay ex-roommate, with an erection. When we get back, I'll tell you all about it."
Dinner with Ramsey and Kevin was fun. Tim felt a little odd being the only straight guy in the mix, by which he's not thinking sexual orientation so much as the only person at their table wearing what most of the rest of society would refer to as "normal" clothing.
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| "Kevin" in real life:http://thisfellow.com/page/6 |
Abby and Ramsey do a lot of the talking, finishing each other's sentences, filling in the blanks for the evidence hunt. Then moving backwards, talking about school and some of the things they used to get up to at LSU.
Eventually they get to the part of the night where the boyfriends talk about themselves. Kevin's a photographer. He's got work in a few galleries, but makes most of his living doing weddings. Tim finds the fact that Abby's basically showing him off like a trophy to her friend amusing. She's bragging about his writing and police work. Both of the guys are properly impressed by the fact that Tim manages to be a full time cop and write.
And eventually, things wrap up, and promises of getting together again are made, and they head on their way back to her place.
They'd gotten in the door, hadn't even closed it yet, when Abby was looking at him, "So, tell me?"
 |
| Did you get a new lock? |
"Yeah. Gibbs put it in on Monday."
"Why is he installing locks at your place?"
"Is the stress on he or locks?"
"He and your."
"He was doing it for the same reason why he was doing it."
He looks away from the door to her and says, "You lost me on that."
"Murdering psycho out there, and my very favorite, gun-toting, super special agent isn't always here. You were on all night, so he made sure I got home safe and took care of the door."
That was a deluge of information he hadn't known. He knew she was scared, but not that Gibbs had seen her home, let alone installed a lock for her. "Were you even going to ask me to do your lock?"
"Have you ever done one before?"
"Yes."
"Then next time I'll ask you to do it."
Tim's staring at the door. "Next time it'll be my house, too."
"True. I found some more places to check out on Sunday."
He's still staring at the door. Which is when Abby starts to get this might be a bit more serious than she thought.
She touches his shoulder. "Does it bother you that I asked Gibbs for help?"
"Yeah." He looks at her, and she can see he's really upset about this. "I'm here three nights a week. You're at my place just as often. The only nights we don't sleep together are the nights where one of the two of us doesn't get to sleep. If you don't feel safe here, go to my place, or ask me to secure your door! That's my job now, not his."
"And when you're working, and he's here, and sees the deadbolt I bought during lunch, and offers to put it in for me because he knows I'm scared, should I say, nope, that's McGee's job?"
"Yes."
The look she's giving him clearly says she thinks he's insane.
"Look, there are things that are my job now. Keeping you safe. That's number one on the list. That's what a husband does."
The you're insane look melts away. It's replaced by something a lot softer, and a lot sweeter. She steps in closer to him and touches his cheek.
He's staring into her eyes, looking determined and worried. "It's my job to be here. It's my job to be the man who keeps you safe."
"And when you aren't here?"
His eyes close, open slowly, and focus on hers. "I don't know. I should be here."
"But you aren't, not always. Keeping a lot of other people safe: that's you job, too."
"I know."
"And you love your job."
"I do."
He rests his head on her shoulder and sighs.
"If it's not going to be you, is there anyone else you'd rather I turned to than Gibbs?"
"No." But she can see he's thinking, hard, about this. The problem that, can't, won't go away.
So she tries to nudge it back into the background and help get them moving forward into the weekend, instead of back to work. "Tonight you are here, and I'm here, and the job isn't going to change or go away, so how about we go to bed, and you tell me about your fantasy threesome?"
They're brushing their teeth, and he's still on edge. Finally he puts the brush down, leans against the sink and pulls her to him, his hands on her hips, pelvis to pelvis and forehead to forehead. "You say the word, and I will be here every night."
"Tim?"
"I don't want you scared and alone. Ask me to, and I'll have a desk job with regular hours in ten minutes."
"I can't ask that."
"Why not?"
"It's not fair. It's not fair to you. I won't be home every night. It's not fair to rip you away from a job you love for the three nights a year I've got the willies. It's not fair to Gibbs or Tony or Ziva. It's not fair to Vance or, God, poor Dornaget; he'd end up being Tony's new Probie all the time. And it's not fair to the hundreds of people you'd save or avenge or give some peace by catching the bad guys. I'm a grown woman. I'm armed, and you know I can shoot. I've got a door you'd need a battering ram to break down. I can take a few nights a year on my own."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Go shooting with me tomorrow?"
"Okay."
They're in bed when she says, "So, come on, tell me."
"I'm not exactly feeling wildly sexy right now."
"But you will be if you start talking to me. Here," she sits up, "take off your jammies and roll onto your side."
He sits up and shucks off the sweat pants and MIT T-shirt he had on and rolls onto his side. "I'm starting to think pajamas are overrated. We put them on, and most nights take them off less than an hour later, and then put them back on again. Seems like a waste of energy."
"Facing away from me." He flips so his back is to her, and she settles in behind him, her hands brushing his neck. "It gets cold in here."
"We could get another comforter."
"That'd probably take care of chilly." She begins to rub his neck and shoulders. "Still, getting them off can be a whole lot of fun."
Okay, yeah that was true. "Then wearing them can be a signal that's the sort of fun one of us wants." Her thumbs press up into the top of his neck, just below his skull, and he sighs. "That's good."
"Yeah, you're really tense right now."
"The door thing freaked me out."
"I noticed." She's kneading his neck, rolling tight muscles under her fingers.
"My dad was gone three hundred days a year some years."
"Oh."
"For something like five years he would be on his ship for six months, have two with us, and then six months on board again.
"My mom's dad was great. He was always there for us. He would have installed a deadbolt if my mom wanted one. He was the one who brought my mom and Sarah home from the hospital when she was born, 'cause the Admiral wasn't anywhere around. He taught me how to drive. I loved my grandfather, and I miss him like crazy sometimes, but I don't want Gibbs to be that guy for you. I don't want him to have to be that guy for you."
"It's not the same thing." Her hands go still, just holding his neck, keeping it warm.
"Isn't it? You want or need something, and I'm not here for it."
"You want to be here, right?"
"Yes."
"Did your Dad?"
Tim has to think about that, and while he does she moves onto his shoulders. Trapezius, he thinks, feeling the sharp almost burn of too tight muscles fighting relaxing. He takes a deep breath and tries to make his shoulder let go of the tension.
Finally he feels the muscles start to melt, and finally he comes up with an answer. "No. He didn't. Not really. He was always on edge at home. He wanted to be on a ship."
"You planning on leaving for ten months a year?"
"No. I'd resign before I'd take a float at this point."
She kisses the nape of his neck, not needing to say anything more to that. She spends a few more moments rubbing his back as he continues to relax into it. He's quiet while she does it.
"What are you thinking?"
"Latissimus dorsi, erector spinae," her hands move down his back, along his spine and cup his hip, thumbs pressing into the muscles, "illiac crest, gluetus medius, deep hip rotators. Ow. Don't Rolf me."
"Sorry. You're really tight. Body work wouldn't be a bad plan. So you're just naming the muscles I'm working on."
"Not really, I'm just aware of where your hands are."
"Okay."
She scoots a little closer, so she's pressed up against his back. He can feel she's still got her jammies on, boxers and a T-shirt, but off the top of his head, he can't remember which ones she's wearing. They're at her place, so they're probably not his, but that's about as well as he knows. Her arm snakes around him, and begins to rub his chest. It's not so much erotic as relaxing. More of what she had been doing to the back of him. He sighs.
"Feels good."
"Your shoulders get that tight, it'll affect your pecs as well."
"Yep. Physiology 101. Anything that gets side A will also affect side B."
She kisses his shoulder, and licks it lightly.
"That feels good, too."
"Good. Are you sleepy?"
"A little. Looking forward to sleeping in with you tomorrow morning. Really hoping we don't get a call out."
"I'm not feeling one."
"Your gut is telling you no call outs?"
"I call them psychic vibes, but gut works fine, too."
He laughs a little. Inhales deeply, and lets it out slowly. He's starting to feel a lot more relaxed and a bit on the playful side.
"So, you really want to know about my fantasy threesome?"
"Yes!" Suddenly that hand that had been massaging his pec was now gently stroking his nipple. "So, who are you thinking of?"
"Usually or most recently?"
She sounds a little surprised. "You think about it that often?"
"Probably number eight on the top ten fantasies."
"So, really, who, usually?"
"Breena."
"Breena? That's who you're so worried about? I'd do her." He can imagine the look she's giving him based on the way her voice sounds. She was right; this was very much not a big deal to her.
"Really?"
"Probably isn't interested in one with him, either."
Abby nods. "So, why did you think I'd be bothered?"
"We actually know her, for one."
"Rather you were interested in sleeping with friends than strangers."
He thinks about that for a moment. "Why?"
"Sex should at least be friendly. And if you like a beautiful woman, I'm gonna think there's something wrong with you if you aren't interested in having sex with her."
"Huh. I'm a jerk if that isn't a two way street, aren't I?"
"What? You don't want me wanting to have sex with all my guy friends?"
He nods.
He feels her shrug. "Not a jerk, you're just a guy. It's your biological imperative versus mine. You don't want to waste energy on kids that aren't yours. So you want to keep me away from other guys and get as many girls as you can. I'm designed to make sure those kids grow up, so forming relationships with whomever can help that is good for me. So, what's number two?"
"Number two?" He lost her somewhere on the biology bit. Not that he didn't understand the evolutionary stuff she was talking about, just that the number two thing didn't seem to go along with it.
"You said, 'we know her, for one'... That suggests number two."
"Oh, yeah... She's just so..." He tries to think of a way to put this into words. "Wholesome?"
She presses up tight against his back and squeezes him. "Baby, if I hadn't figured out by now that you get off on forbidden fruit, I'm not paying attention. The perky, blond, virgin-until-her-wedding-day wife of your best married friend couldn't get any less forbidden. Of course you're going to want her."
"Want you more."
"And you should. Tell me what you fantasize about the three of us doing?" The hand that had been playing with his nipple stroked down his body, and curled around his dick.
"We're on my sofa."
"Just hanging out?"
"Yeah, talking, maybe having a drink or something. You're in the middle. I'm on your right; she's on your left."
"Where's Jimmy?"
"Not with us. Beyond that, I have no idea. He's just not there. In my fantasy world, Jimmy basically doesn't exist."
She laughs at that. "So how do we know Breena?"
He turns to look at her. "Are your fantasies that detailed? Mine tend to get straight to the sex."
She kisses him, and then gently nudges him back to facing away from her. "Then by all means, let's get to the sex." He feels her giggling as she says that, and the hand on his dick releases, her fingers begin just ghosting along the head, soft, feather light touches that he can barely feel.
"She says something, and we're laughing, and no, I have no idea what she says, the laughing part is the important bit, because we're having fun. And we start to calm down, and I lean in and kiss you, and you kiss back, and for a moment that's all that's going on. But I have my arm around you, so I feel it when she strokes your arm.
"It's soft, tentative, like she can't believe she'd do this, but wants to anyway. Like she can't not touch you."
"So, in your fantasy, I'm the one in the middle?"
"Ish."
"Ish?" She sounds intrigued by that.
"Just let me tell it."
"Okay." She takes her fingers away, does something, sucks on them he guesses, because when she returns to petting his dick her fingers are wet and slippery.
"Mmmm..." That felt good. His eyes slip shut and he relaxes further, getting into a storytelling frame of mind. "You pull back from my lips when you realize my arm is on your shoulder, so the hand stroking down your arm isn't mine. You turn to her, and she's staring at you with wide eyes, just really looking at you, her hand on your wrist. She drags her fingers down your hand, really lightly, and I can see the goosebumps rise on your skin.
"You flip your hand over, and she traces along your palm, and then slowly up the inside of your arm."
"Am I wearing a short sleeve shirt?"
"Tank top. She's wearing a little, sleeveless blouse thing, with buttons, and you're both wearing skirts."
"What are you wearing?"
"It doesn't matter. By the time I'm naked in the fantasy, I'm just naked."
"We don't undress you?"
"You're busy."
"Jeans. You've got on jeans. Black belt. We're home, hanging out, it's probably a weekend, so, t-shirt, and if you've got on a t-shirt, you're wearing sneakers."
"I don't wear my belts with t-shirts."
"No belt then."
"Okay, so we're all dressed and on the sofa. Do you want any other scene setting?"
"How's the lighting?"
"Night. Overhead light and kitchen light are on."
"Okay. I've got it in my mind."
"Good. What was happening?"
"Breena was feeling up my arm."
"She brushes her hand up your arm, and you squirm a little, because it's soft and tickly." He holds the arm that's wrapped around him out for a moment and trails his hand up the inside of her arm, tips of his nails causing sharp tickly, tingly sensations to race through her.
"She's got those long, pink fingernails, and I'm watching them slip up your skin. And as you squirm, the side of your breast rubs against the back of her knuckles. She blushes when that happens, and starts to pull back, but you stop her, you take her hand in yours, and use your other hand to stroke up the inside of her arm."
"You get off on arm petting?"
"It's character development. This is Breena. She's got to be coaxed, gently into this."
"So, Jimmy just doesn't exist, but there's an entire backstory for the seduction of Breena?"
"Yes."
Abby laughs.
"Anyway, you're trailing your hand up her arm, stroking it lightly, almost more brushing the hairs on her arm than the skin, and she's still just staring at you. Like you are the most beautiful, most desirable person ever. And as you reach her shoulder she's leaning toward you, wanting more, but there's still some fear in her eyes, she doesn't know if this is okay, if she's allowed to have you.
"You lay your hand on her shoulder, cupping it, and gently pull her toward you. She comes to you, easily, sitting right next to you, her leg pressed against yours.
"You reach out with your right hand, and stroke her face. She turns into your hand, opening her lips a little, eyes slipping shut, sighing at the touch.
"Your thumb drags across her bottom lip and she lightly, with just the tip of her tongue, licks across the pad of your thumb. You moan a little at that."
"Have I ever moaned when you've licked my thumb?"
"Okay, I moan a little at that."
"Better."
"Your fingers slip down her neck, and flick open the top button of her shirt. She feels you do it, and grabs both of your wrists, holding them in front of her, and then lowers your hands so they're lying on her lap. She leans in and kisses you.
"And it's really slow, and soft, and lots of lip and tongue action, and honestly I can run this part in my mind for a pretty long time."
"So, do you actually do anything in this fantasy, or do you just watch?"
"We'll get there." Her fingers lightly stroking his dick and the image of Abby and Breena kissing combine, start to make him hard.
"She starts to whimper, soft, breathy, needy sounds. She wants more than your lips. She lets go of your wrists, and her one hand's closing around your knee, and the other snaking around your back. She jumps a little when she does that, because by doing that she touches me, and for the first time she seems to notice I'm still in the room.
"She breaks the kiss, pulls back, looks at both of us, and asks, 'Is this okay?'
"You nod, and I manage to choke out, 'Yes!'
"I shift so I'm kneeling on the floor in front of both of you. She's still staring at us, and you're grinning at her, unbuttoning the top button on her blouse.
"I lean in and kiss you, quickly, mostly just showing you how turned on I am, making sure this really is cool with you. Then I turn to her, and gently touch her face, and stop, waiting for permission. She nods, and I lean in to kiss her. And again it's soft and wet and open mouths and lots of tongue and I can taste you on her, and smell her perfume mixed with yours.
"Her one hand closes around mine, and the other is still wrapped around your waist. You're nibbling my ear while you unbutton her blouse."
Abby's light petting and talking about kissing means he's good and hard now. She wraps her fingers around him and begins to slide her hand up and down. "This is what you do when you think about this, right?"
"That's awfully close."
"What do you do differently?"
"I'm usually in the shower, but if I'm not, I use some lube."
She lets go of him, and his back feels cold as she rolls over to the nightstand to grab the lube. But then her hand is wrapped around him, and it's slick and tight, and he's perfectly happy with that.
He sighs, hips slowly rocking. "That's really good."
"So, the shower, huh?"
He shrugs a little. "Easy clean up."
"Sometimes it's really nice to be a girl."
"You can get off as often as you like, don't have to worry about making a mess, and don't have to worry about everyone seeing when you're turned on. Yeah, I'd say that's nice."
"Wet panties aren't all that much fun if you've got to wear them for too long."
"I'll take your word for it."
"So... we're all kissing..."
"And you're unbuttoning her blouse. That's another really clear image, your long fingers slipping buttons through their holes, and each new inch of naked skin.
"I pull back to watch. One hand on her hip, one on yours, as you slip your hand into her blouse, fingers lightly stroking her chest and breast. She's got on this small, white, lace bra, and your fingers skim over it, lightly pulling it down, so I can see one of her breasts.
"You were kissing her, but you pull your head back, and lick down her neck to that breast, and I watch you roll your tongue over her nipple.
"She gasps at that, half-surprised you're doing it, half-surprised at how good it feels to have a soft, wet, female mouth on her.
"She's thinking about how pretty it looks, your mouth on her, the way your tongue just glides over her skin."
"She's thinking it?"
"Well, I am, really, but she is, too."
"And what are you doing while I'm licking Breena?"
"In the fantasy I'm just watching. In real life I'd probably have a hard-on so hard that lack of blood to my brain would have caused me to pass out."
Abby laughs at that, kissing the back of his neck, and stroking him a little faster.
"Does she do anything to me?"
"She will. She cups your neck in her hand, and pulls you up for another kiss, her hands finding the hem of your shirt, and pulling it up and off of you.
"You're not wearing a bra. For a moment she just watches you, then she tells you to stand up, so you do, and she tugs off your skirt. You've got on those little red lace panties. The ones I got you with the rose on the hip." She nods, knowing which ones he's talking about. "She stands up too, and she's shorter than you are, so she arches up on her tip toes, runs her fingers through your hair, and kisses you long and hard, pressing up against you.
"Your hands are slipping all over her, under her shirt, over the skirt, and I'm thinking she's wearing entirely too much clothing, so while you kiss, I slip her skirt off. She lets go of you long enough for me to get her shirt and bra off.
"I press up behind her, lifting her hair out of the way, kissing her neck and back, while you kiss her lips. I stroke my hands over yours, up your arms, skimming them over the sides of your breasts and down your sides to the panties, and then slip them off of you, kissing my way down Breena's back and leg while I do it."
"Nicely coordinated."
"Thank you." He grins for a moment at that, and she adds a very pleasant twist to what her hand is doing. "As I stand back up, licking my way up her leg, she stops standing on her toes, and begins kissing her way down your jaw and neck. Her tongue traces along your collarbone, and down to your breast. She's licking you all over, her hand cupping you, while her other hand drifts down your stomach and stops right above your pubic hair, not touching, yet."
Her hand, which had been slipping over him in a steady slow rhythm stopped, and just held him. "You really like girl on girl foreplay, don't you?"
"I wrote two lesbian erotic novels. What do you think? You want me to just skip ahead to the part where you put on the strap on and we both do Breena?"
He couldn't see if her eyes went wide when he said that, but her voice sounded like they might have when she asked, "You go there in this fantasy?"
"I could."
"Wait, how much of this is your usual fantasy, and how much of this is you telling me a sexy story?"
"About fifty-fifty by this point."
"How about you stick to the regular fantasy?"
"If you want me to."
"Yeah, I want to hear what you like, not what you think I like."
"Okay, I step behind you, kissing your neck and shoulders, and take her hand in mine, and lead it down, showing her how you like to be touched. Guiding her fingers with mine, making you moan and gasp. And you're so wet and slick; I can't not fuck you, so I nudge your foot, and you know that means I want you to spread your legs, so you do, and I slip inside you." Her hand tightens on him as he says that and speeds up.
"So, you're naked now?"
He doesn't answer for a second, just feeling her hand moving on him. "Yep, just like magic.
"I'm not moving too much, mostly just enjoying being inside you," and her hand slows down, but stays tight, "and keeping you and Breena from falling over. You're leaning into me, and she's pressed up tight against you, kissing you hard while her fingers go to work.
"She's a pretty quick study. You're hips are rolling, eyes half-closed, face and chest flushing."
"How can you see that?"
"Third person omniscient narration. I can tell you what Breena's thinking if you like."
She licks his ear and giggles a little, and then begins to slide her hand over him the same speed her hips move when they roll the way he's talking about.
He sighs. "Yeah, just like that... Mmmmmm... So she shifts over a little, straddling your leg, riding it, moaning gently. And you know what she wants, taking one of your hands, slipping it into her panties, and begin to finger her.
"She stops you, steps back, takes the panties off, and then crushes back up against you, fingers moving faster and faster as you thrust between us." Abby's hand matches his narration, moving faster, tighter, less coordinated, against him.
"She's kissing you, rubbing her breasts against yours, as her hand flies over your clit, and I grind into you, making sure to get that angle you love, and you're making that soft, breathy, I'm-gonna-climax-in-two-strokes sound. She sucks your bottom lip, hard, and you're gone, twitching and pulsing, hand clenched in her hair as you get off." She squeezes her hand as she strokes it up and down him fast, and then just holds him, giving him soft, easy, and non-rhythmic squeezes.
"We hold you for a few minutes, letting you come down." Her hand went soft and snug around him, not moving.
"When you do, you slip off of me, and away from Breena, pushing her in towards me. I grab her hips, pulling her flush against me, grinding against her stomach, while you stand behind her and play with her breasts.
"The two of us kiss, hot and hard. I'm tongue fucking her while you start with your fingers, and after a minute, she breaks away from us, taking each of us by the hand, and says, 'Sofa.'
"She has me sit on the sofa, then straddles me, facing you, pulling your head down to kiss while she eases onto me." Abby's hand tightened and began to slip down him.
"And she's soft, and hot, and wet, and different. Not tighter, but just different. Really good. My hands are on her hips, not guiding her so much as just touching her, and she nudges you down, so you're kissing her breasts, and then you look at both of us, and smile, pure, happy, wicked, sexy joy in your eyes, and you lean further down, and begin to lick her pussy.
"You're being careful about it, not touching me, just getting her clit, and she moans while you do it, thrusting into your mouth, trying to get more pressure from your tongue, but you pull back, kneel in front of us, and hug both of us, and then lean over her shoulder and kiss me.
"I'm licking her off your lips while she rocks on my cock... And it's almost too much... It's like being swallowed by sex." His hips are moving faster, meeting the firm and fast stroke of her hand. His breath is coming faster, and his balls are starting to pull up.
She stopped stroking. "This is a really long fantasy. How long does it take you to masturbate?"
That derailed his train of thought. His eyes snap open and he looks over his shoulder at her. "How long? I've never timed myself. Long enough to get it done. Usually though, I don't have someone interrupting me every... You're doing this on purpose!"
"You think I might be drawing this out, frustrating you, on purpose?" Her hand began slowly stroking over his dick.
"You are!"
"I wouldn't do that, would I?" She kisses the tip of his nose and grins.
"You're evil, you know that?"
She kissed his shoulder, nudged his head so he was looking forward again, tightened her hand and gave him a few fast pumps followed by a few soft, gentle, slow ones.
"And yet you love me anyway. Keep talking."
He closes his eyes and tries to get back to where they were. "Okay," he said with a sigh, bringing the image, scent, taste, and feel back into his mind. "You break the kiss, and I lean back on the sofa, Breena riding me. You sit on the floor, cross-legged, and begin to lick both of us. I can hear you lapping against her, and every few strokes, as I pull out, I feel your tongue drag down my dick, and then you go back to her, switching between us randomly enough that neither of us knows where you're going to go next." She's pumping him fast, and he's not having a hard time getting back into it. "I reach down, spread her lips farther apart, and begin to finger her, because I want to feel her come on me. You lick my balls for a minute, and I squirm happily while you do, then you move my finger out of the way and take over on her.
"Then she's crying out... Coming on my cock... Your tongue driving her mad."
He's thrusting fast against her hand, and realizes he's got to draw this back some if he doesn't want to get off before she gets into the action. He takes her hand in his and stops her.
For a few seconds he holds her hand, letting himself slide back from the edge. "Don't get me wrong, I love what you're doing, but if you don't back off, I'm going to be useless for the rest of the night."
She squeezed him a little tighter and pumped him fast. "Finish the story. Your fantasy, you get to get off. Tomorrow morning, we'll even up the score."
That sounded really good. "Okay, then grab some tissues for me. Mess on the bottom sheet is easy enough to deal with. Don't want to get cum all over the top sheet."
"Roll onto your back. I've got you for this."
He did, and she shifted, moving so she was kneeling between his legs. Then she bent and took just the head between her lips, holding the base of the shaft in her fist.
"Ohhhhh..."
She stayed perfectly still, hand and mouth not moving.
That took a bit more of the edge off, toned down the need to climax. He waited for a few more breaths, to see what she was going to do, and just as he was about to ask she pulls back and says, "You keep talking, I keep moving. Stop talking, and I go still."
"Okay. She slips off of me, and says, 'On the floor.' So I lie down on the floor.
"Each one of you is kneeling next to me, and you're both kissing each other, and your hands are twined around me, sliding up and down. I'm thrusting along with it, enjoying the feel of it, loving seeing you two do it together.
"Then Breena breaks the kiss. She bends down, licking me while you stroke. She lets go, but you keep jacking me while she laps at the tip." Abby started to mimic what he was saying. "Oh, God, yeah, like that..." His voice trailed off and as it did so her hand and mouth moved more slowly, coming to a stop.
He started talking again with a quick breath, "Yeah, licking. She's licking. The tip of her tongue rubbing against the underside. And your hand is moving nice and slow, driving me crazy." And once again she mimics what he's saying.
"I grab you, pull you up to my mouth, and roll onto my side. You get the idea, my head cradled on your leg as I lick and suck you. And Breena is still sucking me, but she hasn't quite gotten how this works, so you tell her to lie on her side and hitch her leg up. And she does, and you go down on her.
"And there's no middle, or we're all in the middle..." Abby's hands and mouth speed up and he's breathing hard enough it's making it difficult to talk.
"And I'm...licking you... pussy on my mouth... feeling... tasting... You're all over me... Taste so good...
"And she's...oh...fuck...yeah...sucking...just...like...shit...that. Oh fuck. God, baby... can't talk... please don't stop."
And Abby didn't. She kept up the suction, using her hands to stroke along with her tongue and lips, and in a few strokes he was shuddering, pleasure tingling through all of him. He felt her swallow, gently suck a few more times, swallow again, and release him.
"C'mere." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. It's not that he's particularly fond of the taste of his semen, but he does love the taste of him on her. After a minute's kiss he said, sounding sleepy, "I so owe you tomorrow."
"Yeah, you do."
"You'll have to tell me yours."
"Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"Your favorite one with another girl."
He can feel her smile at that idea.
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