Wednesday, August 10, 2011



I almost say it.

Don’t.  Please.  Stay.

Or something along the lines of I love you.

But as Bridget lays beneath me, soft and warm and perfect, I know it isn’t the time to make that confession.  It would forever be tainted as something I told her just to stop her being with Kris – just to be selfish, victorious.  It would never ring as true as I mean it to be.

Kris could give up.  He could dress quietly and leave us there to sort out the now impossible tangle of bodies and feelings.  But he isn’t going to.  He has some kind of plan – a dirty, scandalous plan, a very French plan – and I have to admit he’s been right so far.  If Bridget and I are ever going to be anything beyond tonight, I have to stop competing.  In a sick and twisted way, I have to give her up if I ever hope to get her back.

She looks at me like she’d never seen me before.  I kiss her and she smiles: satisfied, nervous and maybe, if I believe my own hype, impressed.

I roll off, but keep my arms around her just to let her know she could stay.  Bridget brushes her fingers along my temple and down my face, just looking right into my eyes.  Then she kisses me again before rising up onto her elbows.

Kris lays flat on his side, one arm bent under his head and watching us.  I had nearly forgotten he was there and now my nervous blush turns to embarrassment – maybe he thinks I am a joke, an obvious amateur and now he’s going to show Bridget how good things can really be.  My body twitches to grab her again, keep her for myself.  But she’s looking at him too, face impassive as if considering what to do next.  With a movement so slow it’s almost imperceptible, Kris rubs his free hand along the bed in front of him.

Come here.

I close my eyes, then felt her weight lift from my bed.

It seems to take a year for her to go two feet.  Already I’m cold without her.  Clenching a fist to my side I bite back the words to stop all this right now.

Kris murmurs something - I hear the vibration of his voice without the words.  It’s probably French even though Bridget doesn’t speak it.  Kris fights dirty.  I hear them moving and I cannot stop myself from looking.

She’s on her back, halfway under him and they’re kissing.  His giant hand cradles her head and lifts her lips to his.  It’s the way she looked moments ago, only that kiss belonged to me.  Bridget holds onto his forearm, her skin pale against his olive skin.  They’re beautiful together.

Kris presses his knee down between her thighs.  Sometime while she was making my dreams come true he ditched his sweats.  I’m surprised that he wore boxer briefs underneath.  Now the only thing they’re underneath is the stroke of her fingers over his ass.

I’m not going to make it.

He strokes her hair like he has all night to do nothing but kiss her.  She moves though, and it turns my stomach.  She wants him, or at least wants this.  Maybe I really wasn’t enough.  Kris responds in kind and runs his hands all over her bare body.  Her breast is small in his grasp and she shudders when he circles a thumb around her nipple.  He easily grips her side, then slides that hand under the rise of her backside.  With an open palm and a shift of his weight, he turns Bridget over.

Partially sitting, Kris puts his mouth to her spine.  He drags it out, kissing each vertebrae as he grinds himself against her hip.  Bridget keeps her head turned away from me and for that I am grateful.  He squeezes a handful of her ass, his fingertips dent the delicate flesh.  

Those shorts are no match for his desire.  I’ve seen Kris naked a hundred times but I avoid the sight of him hard - some things I don’t want to know.  Then he settles along the length of her back, squeezes her thighs between his knees, and slides himself into my girl.

She moans.  God damn it if Bridget doesn’t moan like a whore and I’m instantly harder than I was inside her.  It’s so sudden I feel woozy, the blood in my body rushing outward.  Bridget lifts her head and I watch Kris claim her mouth as well.  Then he starts to move.

He must be good.  Apparently every woman who ever soaked her panties at the sight of him was psychic.  What starts as a whimper from Bridget becomes a cry as Kris slowly, strongly pumps himself in deep.  Her hips rise to meet the strokes like she can’t help herself.  The curve of her lower back beneath his stomach, the flex of her thighs as she pushes her ass into his lap - I have to put an arm over my eyes because I cannot look away.

He’s still whispering, keeping her focused.  I’m ashamed of how turned on I am, but my palm is polishing the tip of my dick already.  There’s movement and I look out from under my elbow to see Kris sit up, put his hands on her back and press her into the mattress.  She groans in pleasure as he begins to ride her.  

“Ohgodyes,” she says in a quiet voice, almost to herself.  Like he’s something she’s been wishing for but could never say out loud for fear he wouldn’t come true.  

Oh fuck no.

And Kris looks at me.  My heart skips a beat - I feel like a kid caught peeking in a window.  His eyes are stormy: lust, possession, desire and all the things that any red-blooded guy would feel while balls-deep in a beautiful woman.  But there’s some else too - compassion maybe, or it could be pity.  Either way, he leans down and speaks to her.

“Touch yourself.”

Bridget protests - I can hear her tone but not her words.  Kris is still atop her like she’d a carousel horse.  He gathers up a fistful of her dark hair in one hand and pulls just enough to turn her head so she’s facing me.  I’m so stunned I forget to drop my own dick and she catches me jerking off to the sight of another guy, my friend, fucking her hard.  The second her gaze meet on mine, he pounds into her.

She screams.  Every nerve in my body fires - I’ll kill him if he hurts her.  But it’s not pain in her voice, it’s surprise and sensation and quite possibly the promise of an orgasm that she doesn’t bring herself.  Above anything else that cannot happen.  Kris stops moving.

“Chaton,” he says, but he’s looking at me.  One hand caresses the length of her spine.  “It was hard for me to watch him fuck you.  I knew how good you would feel.”

He thrusts again, even harder by the slap of skin.  Bridget swallows her voice this time but her back curls like she’s taken a body blow.  What he came here to give her is even closer than before.  My vision blurs red with anger.

“And now that I have you,” he purrs just above her ear, “I’m not sure I want to let you go.”

Bridget’s eyes are wide and bright, I could lose myself in there.  And she could lose herself right here, to him.  We both hold our breath waiting for Kris’ next move.  

He rakes her hair away from her face so she can see me clearly.  With his hand along the back of her neck, Kris asks, “Tell him you want him.  Tell him he gets to be the one.”

I’m trembling.  Her lips part to speak, then she bites the bottom one in hesitation.

Please Bridget, please.

“Or I will do it right now,” he promises.  

A vein stands out along his neck and every muscle in his upper body is tensed hard.  Kris is right at the edge of fucking through her inability and taking her right over with him.  I could never stop like that.  I’d be running for the finish line and hoping she beats me there.  Gritting his teeth, Kris waits for her answer.

All of a sudden, Bridget’s face softens.  “Sidney,” she says quietly.

I nearly come in my hand.  Kris relaxes a touch.  Only Bridget seems still unsure.

“Then touch yourself,” he instructs.  “Because you really make me want to come.”

She doesn’t turn her face away this time.  Instead she slides her arm under her stomach and I can imagine the rest - her fingers quickly covered in slick heat as she works them into her clit.  The way I used my thumb to get her off before.  The way she won’t even have to do again, except that I like it, when I’m finished with her tonight.

“Ohgod,” she gasps.  Kris is against her back, hands on her shoulders and shoving his cock inside her now.  He kisses the stretch between her neck and shoulders, biting at the taut skin, and Bridget’s eyes roll.

“Fuckyoufeelsogood,” he says in English so she knows exactly how he feels.  Her response is in a language no one knows.

I watch her face.  He’s going as hard and fast as my hand moves along my own shaft.  I’m not embarrassed anymore.  I feel the memory of her, imagine the glide of her back against my chest and catalog all the things I want to do to her.  The cries from her soft mouth beg to be my name, or be silenced with a mouthful of my cock.

Just get through this.

Like it was scripted, Bridget comes first.  If I could learn the trick of what she did to herself, I could get to the locker room, get her off and still drink a Gatorade during every TV timeout.  I prefer not to think that Kris was the reason she’d gone so quickly.

And she doesn’t hold back.  She bites down on the pillow and buries a scream.  Her body bucks like a live wire, helpless against the weight of Kris still forcing himself inside.  She’s locked right where he wants her and before she’s quiet, he’s not.

It’s just a groan: a low, feral noise that he growls into her hair.  And it’s mixed with my own moan of pleasure as I finally let myself go.  Heat spurts out of me - frustration, jealousy, anger, shame.  The feeling of being dominated by another guy fucking my girl and the knowledge that he can, and gladly would, make her very satisfied.  I am going to have my work cut out for me.

When I come around, he’s still on her back.  They’re talking quietly and I lay still, pretending to be dazed.  The wet noise when he pulls out of her makes my jaw clench.

Kris leaves the bed of his own accord.  He could be getting cleaned up, since Bridget still hasn’t gotten what we promised her tonight.  Maybe he’s going to make sure this Kid can seal the deal.  But instead he steps into his sweats and unfurls his t-shirt over his head.  Shorts go in his pocket, sandals on his feet.  Then he walks back to the bed and leans over her sprawled out form.

“If you need me, I’m waiting.”

Then Kris gives me a devious half-smile and shows himself out.


It was almost too good to miss.  Aside from everything, sex with Bridget was incredible.

Maybe it wasn’t just her and me together, maybe it was everything else that made it so good.  I had wanted her before.  I had come to her tonight and met with almost no resistance before she was saying my name and riding my cock.  And Sidney... if he couldn’t make it happen for her....  The feel of her tight body so wet for me, the noises she made as I pushed her to her limit.  And it was right there - the orgasm no one had ever given her.  To have it in my reach and walk away, to be the one she’d always compare others to and give that up...

Fuck I am a good friend.  And a fool.

I might not be such a nice guy the next time around.

“Tell him you want him.  Tell him he gets to be the one.”

Let’s be real.  She’s telling me as much as him.  And she hesitates just enough for me to know that she loves him.  Now she knows it too.  But it still feels good to milk her body through an orgasm of her own helping, and at least claim the reward of coming inside her.

“He’ll take good care of you,” I whisper in her ear as she catches her breath afterward.

“You were so close,” she replies.  Two minutes later I am gone.


It’s perfectly silent.  Sidney and I lay on separate beds, spent and scared.  Tonight will never leave this room and so threatens to suffocate us both.

Confusion and confession, tonight is.

I turn onto my side, hissing as the tender flesh shifts between my legs.  I have never had a night like this before.  Sidney faces me across the gap.  It could be a chasm for all that has happened, but I feel strangely fine.  We went so far tonight that nothing should hold us back now.  My knees wobble as I get to my feet.

He rolls onto his back, looking for all the world like Adonis.  He really is fucking perfect.  Upon close examination it’s even more serious - the crooked scar on his chin, his slightly uneven eyebrows, the spot where he nicked himself shaving.  All these little details I was blind to before.

Those eyes and that smile conspire against me.  He pulls me down like a featherweight and lays me out next to him.  I touch his beautiful face and am not at all surprised to be totally in love with him.

“You okay?” he asks in a small voice.

I nod.  Of everything that went on tonight, being with Kris was the most intense part because I wasn’t with Sidney.  Once I knew what it was like to be with him - how he tried almost too hard, concentrated like I was a new play to learn, the shy smile when he caught me admiring him - nothing else was ever going to be good enough.

Unless Kris had made me come.  Then I might have an argument.

But Kris had managed to be both the gentleman and the rogue.  He got what he came for and never for a second did I doubt that he loved giving me pleasure and taking his own.  Maybe I even knew the secret of his sex appeal now - he was as good as advertised.  And in the end he had created something when he could have destroyed.

“Bridget, I...,” Sidney starts to say.

I kiss him.  I’m exhausted and empty, swollen and spent, but I kiss Sidney for the first time alone together.  When there’s no wild night, no famous faces or pressure or games to win.  There’s nothing but him and me and this bed like a boat in a storm.  I am delirious and full of another man and there’s nothing I want more in this world than the one with me now.


“Please, Bridge....”

I can’t hear it tonight.  Now now, or here.  He’s going to tell me he loves me and I’m going to say it back and then probably faint out of sheer disbelieving joy.  You can find me asleep in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and I’ll still be the luckiest thing around.  But tonight is it’s own truth and Sidney and I are for another day.

“I know,” I tell him.

Sid’s eyes waver.  He wants to believe I am answering his unspoken words, but there are a few rare things that cannot be unsaid.  They cannot be mistaken.  There is no room for error or assumption when you’re making a promise.  I hope he can read my kiss if not my mind.  This one is deep and forceful, he lays his hands on me for the first time since we’ve been alone.  

“I know.  Me too.”

He believes me, or decides to take the leap of faith, because everything about him changes.  His shoulders flex, his upper back rounds like he’s unleashing something that hides deep inside.  Suddenly I’m pinned to the mattress beneath his massive form and he’s poured over me like paint.

“Baby,” he says as his lips barely leave my skin.  


  1. cannot think clearly...

  2. I guess Sid was right when he said "I'm going to end up thanking the dirty bastard in the end." Kris was right when he said "Fuck I am a good friend. And a fool."

    Great story. Not just the really really hot sex but a nice friendship story as well. A little weird but nice.

    “Only about thirty percent of women can orgasm through traditional sex." Kris might not have time hockey...

  3. now im thinking--why not be good boys and share? lol.