The Triangle Read online

  Christine bows her head, looking up at me through her eyelashes as I press my body into her and walk her backward, dragging Danny with me as I go. Danny’s not galloping along, per se, but he’s not exactly resisting either. We might not be able to live here forever and escape the dangers of the great, wide world beyond, but we are here now, and that’s all that rightly matters.

  The backs of her knees hit the piano bench and she drops into a sit. “Do you even play the piano?” she asks me.

  “No. Why?” I respond, sliding her top off over her head in the process.

  “Because this is like a hundred-thousand-dollar Steinway sitting in a glass box in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I told the designer to think liberally,” I tell her as I now lift her shirt from her head and drop to my knees to emancipate her from the bondage of her sweatpants.

  She presses her palms onto the bench, lifting her hips, and aids me in sliding her bottoms off. It is notable that she is not wearing any underwear. Braless, panty-less, her white skin in graphic contrast to the polished ebony of the piano bench. Like one, lone, ivory key waiting to be played.

  But as I lean down between her legs and start to deliver my opus, she tightens her knees around my head and stops me.

  “Problem?” I ask from within my seductive vise.

  She fists my hair, pulls my head up, looks from me to Danny, and says, “You first.”

  “We first, what?” Danny asks.

  “I want to watch.”

  “Watch what?” Danny repeats.

  I find this whole interaction unendingly amusing.

  “I want to watch you kiss. Will you kiss for me? Please? For me?”

  I look up over my shoulder at Danny, his mouth tight and his glare narrow. He tilts his neck back and shakes his head at the celling. I wait, patiently. Then he looks down at me, grabs my arm, pulls me up, and yanks me into a kiss.

  It is forceful. Dominating. Establishing himself as the one in control. That’s fine. It’s exhausting being in control all the time. Let someone else take charge for a change.

  My hands reach for his trousers as he presses his rough mouth against my own. I fiddle with the buttons and the pants drop to the floor. We’ve been on the run, and we haven’t really eaten anything, and I assume, like me, Danny has retained his athletic metabolism all these years, so it’s possible he’s shed a couple of pounds and his jeans no longer have the same purchase they did before.

  It’s also possible that they’ve now come off so many times that they’re simply used to being on the floor.

  He steps out of the denim, and when I push my body forward, I feel the tension in his huge cock as it presses against my exposed abdomen. Reaching down with one hand, I take him up and begin a halting, violent jerk on his shaft. His breath catches in his throat and he bites my lower lip. My lower lip that pulls away from his teeth as my emerging smile stretches it wide.

  I turn my head to see Christine. Her legs are spread wide, heels pressed against the legs of the piano bench. With one hand, she rubs her breasts and pinches her nipples, and with the other hand, she pushes her fingers in and out of her pussy, alternating with rubbing frantically at her clit. “Keep going,” she gasps out.

  I turn my face back to Danny and press my mouth again to his, never letting go of my hold on his cock. It’s not a long, lazy stroke that I’m using to pull on him, but a strong, punishing yank. I can feel the muscles in my forearms tensing with my grip. The veins bulging as I strain his dick. The grunting sounds he makes are those of a person in mild pain, but are filled with an affirmation, encouraging me to keep doing what I’m doing.

  I do.

  And now Danny fumbles with the button of my trousers. But he’s having trouble getting them unclasped, presumably because I’m attempting to virtually rip a river of come from somewhere inside him, and so I let my grasp free and step back.

  “No, don’t stop,” Christine whines, continuing to finger herself and grind her hips back and forth on the piano bench.

  The sight of her grinding there, the sight of Danny’s red, swollen cock pulsing with blood, well… loop naai, I just about rip my pants in half, taking them down my legs. The Hulk has come to fuck.

  Grabbing Danny’s wrist again, I drag him over to Christine. He and I stand above her, watching as she looks up at us shyly, still rubbing at herself. I try to imagine what she sees and how it must feel. Two monstrous men—murderers, thieves, angels of destruction—naked, hard cocks fully engorged, ready to take her and each other, towering over her. Harbingers of lust, announcing their arrival into the fragile temple of her familiar body.

  It must look terrifying. And it must feel like the most exquisite anticipation a person can know.

  She need not anticipate further.

  I grab her up by the arms, pull her forward, and then I sit down on the bench behind her. My elbows bang the piano keys as I land, plunking out a discordant song of seduction.

  She glances over her shoulder back at me, and I reach my hand out, turning her cheek gently to face ahead of her. Toward Danny.

  Placing both hands on her ass, I push her in his direction. He walks forward and, taking her by the face with his hands, guides her mouth around his cock. He moans in beautiful agony and she swallows him whole.

  I guide her. With both hands on her hips, I slide her back and forth. Back and forth. She braces herself with her own hands on Danny’s hips, and widens her stance so that she is anchored to the floor like the bottom of a pyramid.

  I slide my hands inward along her ass, pull her apart, and spit into her asshole. Looking around the spartanly appointed room, I see nothing that would work as an adequate lubricant, so we’ll have to make do. I massage my spittle into her backside with one hand and spit into my other hand, rubbing the hot saliva all over my cock as well. The sound of her breathing around Danny’s cock and the sound of Danny’s needy groans have me pulling on myself so aggressively that I think I might come right this very moment.

  Which would be a shame.

  So I slow things down. I want this to last. This moment. Now. I want it to last.

  Because there is a reality to face.

  We are probably not going to survive.

  At least not all of us will.

  One or more of us will die. Soon. It is the price of doing business in the way we have for as long as we have. The assault on Danny’s apartment was timed to happen when all of us were together. As one. It is not a coincidence.

  Whatever it is that has happened out there in the world beyond our forest-walled fortress, it is waiting. It will not abate. It will wait for us to emerge from our hiding place and will make its presence known with force.

  I’m not scared. I’m not sad. I don’t know that I’m capable of feeling those emotions. But when I think of losing Danny and Christine, I am disconsolate.

  I wasn’t before. Not the night in Prague when everything fell apart. Because I knew it wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. Our story wasn’t done being written. There was more for us to know about each other.

  That was not the end because the triangle had not yet been completed. The lines were so very close to being fused and finished, but we hadn’t yet fulfilled our destiny.

  Now we have.

  And maybe what Danny said to me is true. Maybe the coming together of us as one does somehow weaken us rather than make us stronger. Because, after all, he is right. When you love something so much that it will cost you dearly to lose it, it gives your enemies something to target. The one place on poor old Achilles where the armoring waters did not fully bathe him. A point of entry where someone can come in and steal your blue, blue heart.

  I’m not maudlin and I’m not macabre. I’m simply realistic. And the reality is that I don’t know how many more chances we’ll have to be together as we are right now. And so, I’m in no great hurry to let this moment pass.

  I push Christine and Danny forward and drop off the bench onto my knees. Christine keeps working Danny�
��s hard cock and he digs his hands into her shoulders.

  Now, on my knees behind her, I spread her ass open once more, wanting to ensure that when I place my cock inside it, she’ll be ready.

  My tongue laps its way into her asshole and swirls about as with my hand, I cup her from underneath and slide one, two, three fingers inside the walls of her pussy. Her knees shudder, and just when I think I couldn’t possibly get a fourth digit inside her as well, my hand presses upward involuntarily and my pinky slides inside her too.

  A muffled yelp from her. She slams her head forward and back around Danny even harder now, and I massage her insides, feeling her saturating wetness spill all around my fingers, across my palm, and down my wrist.

  As I told Danny before, when dealing with a situation in which one finds oneself without the appropriate resources, one must find ways to improvise. The improvised lubricant Christine, Danny, and I just created feels like it will help us hitchhike all the way to our destination.

  I pull my fingers out, smearing her sex all over her own ass and all over my throbbing dick. Standing up, I draw her back into my hips, spreading her ass cheeks as I do and slowly, but firmly, slide my cock deep inside her asshole. She freezes, tensing up all over, but then, after a moment, she relaxes and begins grinding.

  I pull her back, she pulls Danny back, and I lower myself once again onto the bench. And also once again, an odd, some might almost say orgasmic tune gets hammered out by my shoulder blades on the keys.

  And as Christine takes all of me deep inside her, and also takes all of Danny deep inside her, I close my eyes and what I hear in my head isn’t an atonal cacophony of notes getting mashed about by the grinding of our bodies.

  It’s a fugue.

  It’s an opera.

  It is a symphony written by the three of us.

  I only hope it’s not a requiem.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - CHRISTINE

  We’ve had a lot of sex today. And all of it has been good. The kind of sex you only have when time is running out. Desperate, reckless sex.

  But this isn’t sex.

  This is what I’ve been waiting for since the very first moment I fell in love with them.

  This is the love we found. The years we shared, the years we didn’t, and the longing we’ve felt growing between us for the past ten years.

  This is the shape of our love.

  The perfect equilateral triangle.

  My hands grip Danny’s cock as I suck and lick him into a state of bliss. His hands have a tight hold of my hair and every time I take him deep into my throat he clenches his fists, the hair-pulling sting sending a chill through my whole body.

  And my ass. Jesus. Alec’s thick, long cock is fully inside me. And even though Alec and I have been together in many ways, many times, over the past several years—this is more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

  The whole thing feels… right.

  We are perfection in a state of lust.

  Or lust in a state of perfection.

  Either way, it’s paradise and we’re just getting started.

  I let myself drift a little. Let myself dream about all the months, and years, and yes, decades that we will share. There will be a house somewhere. A tropical paradise, or a mountain retreat, or a farmhouse tucked away in a valley. I picture all of them. Every possible version of the happily ever after I never thought I’d get. Never thought I deserved.

  We will be three forever. We’ll get rings heavy with diamonds. And have a ceremony. And a honeymoon that probably looks a lot like this moment in time right now. Wild fucking in a glass house, or on a yacht anchored in a sea of unreal blue-green water, or on the most perfect white-sand beach.

  Danny lets go of my hair and pulls me out of my childish fantasy. His fingers rest on my chin, making me tilt my head up to look at him. I meet his gaze and picture what I look like from his point of view.

  My long, auburn hair mussed and crazy from his fists. My mouth open, lips wrapped around the shaft of his cock. Cheeks puffed out, eyes watering—tears forming in the corners from the effort, and the longing, and…

  And the deep-rooted fear that someone is about to come rip it all away from me. Laugh in my face and say, “You don’t get the fairy-tale ending, kid.”

  I force those irrational feelings down. Swallow them as I push my face forward to take even more of Danny’s cock.

  He smiles at me, but backs away. I grip his hip, trying to force him to stay.

  But he just says, “Shhhhh,” as he bends down and kisses my mouth. Breathing his soft reassurances into me. And I swallow them down. Believe them. That everything is fine. This perfect moment can last forever.

  I kiss him back, more desperate than ever to keep him close.

  Don’t leave me, I want to say. And then I do. I say it. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

  He smiles into our kiss and whispers back, “Never again. Now let’s see how far we can take this tonight.”

  I don’t know what he means. But before I can think about that further, he grabs my shoulders and gently eases me up.

  Alec is breathing hard behind me. Slowly pumping his dick back and forth into my ass. His arms wrap around my waist as Danny positions me fully into Alec’s lap and we crawl backwards, up onto the keys, and then, as Alec slaps away the bar holding the lid up, onto the top of the piano. And once we’re there, Alec still deep inside my ass, Danny grips my knees, spreads me open, and slides his body forward.

  I look down between my legs and watch. I watch as the thick, swollen head of his cock bumps back and forth against my wet pussy. Teasing me until I’m moaning, my hand gripping his forearms, and then finally slides inside and everything disappears… because I close my eyes tight and just experience the completion of us.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - DANNY

  I moan. We all moan. It’s a single, guttural, satisfied moan. Like this is where we’re supposed to be. Like we’ve been working up to this moment for an eternity of lifetimes.

  I want Christine to open her eyes. I want her to see me. I want her to watch as I fuck her. I want her to look down at my cock sliding effortlessly in and out of her pussy.

  But I want to just enjoy it too. And besides, there’s Alec. Staring right at me. Our eyes meeting, holding each other in a single, shared, heated moment.

  He smiles, grimaces as I thrust forward, making Christine’s whole body push against his chest.

  Somehow the day has gotten away from us. The dusk has turned dark since Alec and I found Christine here at the piano. A blanket of moonlight shines through the wall of glass, bathing us in an unearthly glow the color of dust.

  I feel Alec just as much as I feel Christine. Our cocks, separated by mere millimeters of skin, slide back and forth against each other inside her. We are synced up. In perfect rhythm. Connected at three points, on three sides.

  It’s this moment I will remember forever. A single tick of time that adds up to everything I’ve ever wanted. And even though, before today, I had no idea I needed Alec in order to fully have Christine—I understand that now.

  There is no her without him. No me without them.

  Alec breathes out. Our eyes still locked. Like he’s reading my mind and he’s enjoying this tick of time too. It’s relief, I think. A respite from the stress of losing the shape we made and unmade, over and over again. And a satisfaction at the same time. That we made it. That we’ve connected again. That this time, we all know what we want and where we belong.

  I slow down. My thrusts softer. My eyes half closed as I grab her tit with one hand and slide the other one up to her throat. I don’t squeeze. Not because I don’t think it’s hot or that she wouldn’t love to feel that little uncertain rush of adrenaline.

  I don’t squeeze because I want her to know I’d never hurt her. Ever. I have dedicated my life to Christine Keene. I changed the course of everything that day she wanted to poke the blue out of that bug.

  I made her a promise over ice cream.

&nb
sp; We are a team.

  And later, Alec made her that same promise too.

  For that alone, I love him.

  I stop fucking and lean forward, my hand still on her tit squeezing hard as I bring her nipple up to my lips and suck. I look up, past her shoulder, to Alec.

  And that’s when I know what I have to do.

  I kiss my way up her collarbone, stop to nip the tender skin of her neck, and then… because it has to be done, because I want to do it…

  I kiss Alec. Full on the mouth. Tongues twisting.

  And I fuck him as I fuck her.

  Only Christine’s small, soft body separates us. I lean down on her, pressing myself as close to Alec as I can get, and we make love.

  To her. To each other. To the idea that the triangle is real. It’s not some elusive pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, it exists. And we found it.

  “Come,” Alec commands.

  And I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Christine, but she begins to push back. Asking me to go faster with her hips.

  I obey. Her, or him, or who the fuck cares who I’m obeying. I do it.

  I fuck her deep. And hard. And fast.

  Her body stiffens. The tell-tale sign that she’s close. And then Alec says it again. “Come.”

  So we do.

  She goes rigid underneath me, her head falling backward into the crook of Alec’s neck.

  And I grit my teeth as the pressure inside me builds and then explodes in a rush of relief.

  Alec goes completely still. I want to look at him. See the expression on his face. I want to look at Christine too. But I can’t bring myself to open my eyes.

  I want to enjoy this one moment. This one tick of time that has suddenly stopped so I can feel the pleasure of what we are. So I can accept the shape of what we’ve become.

  The triangle.

  Then I snap out of it. Realizing Alec hasn’t had his turn yet. So I pull Christine forward, letting Alec’s cock slip out of her ass, and hold her. Wrap her up in my arms as I meet Alec’s intense, longing-filled gaze, and say, “Come.”