Page 96 of The Triangle

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.