Part 1

I kept kissing Caleb while he softened inside me, trying my best to ignore Bill's fingers, which had come alive and were now curiously exploring between us. When Bill pulled Caleb's mostly flaccid cock from me I had to squeeze to keep my boyfriend's cum from sneaking out after it and making a mess on Bill's hand. I almost let it, it would have served him right. Instead, I settled with looking at him over Caleb's shoulder and saying, "Hey," in my most accusatory tone.

Being pressed to Caleb helped me feel ever so slightly covered. Enough that I found the courage to meet Bill's dark eyes, despite being the only completely naked member of our threesome.

"What?" Bill said. "I've got plans for this little honeypot."

Honeypot? A part of me recoiled at Bill's phrasing. But only a part of me. Because my... honeypot, was now feeling quite empty. And the the recent memory of Bill's cock on the back of my tongue was swimming into focus.

"Do you have a condom?" I asked. I had to look away, down at the hollow of Caleb's neck, while I said it. But I recovered quickly and stared into Bill with all the fire I could muster absolutely daring him to even suggest that I might fuck him bare.

"I do. But you're getting ahead of yourself, cupcake." I wanted so bad to wipe the self satisfied smirk off the older man's face. But what was I going to do? Spit at him over Caleb's shoulder? I had enough sense left to know that was a terrible idea.

Instead, I just sat there as Bill's hand slowly unwrap from the base of Caleb's softened penis and made the short journey to my own sex, his fingers trailing languidly along my sensitive skin. I knew the defiance in my expression was slipping, but there seemed nothing I could do to hold onto it. And, as Bill easily slid a finger into me, I felt my eyebrows arch, and knew he'd won. I closed my eyes and buried myself back in Caleb's neck as a second finger probed at my entrance.

I realized with some embarrassment that Bill wasn't just reaching into me, because inside me was also a little pool of Caleb's fluid. Near my entrance, where my own lubrication helped them along, Bill's fingers felt familiar, if large. I could sense their contours in what felt like perfect detail, especially as his hard unyielding knuckles forced the issue of their accommodation. But deeper inside, the sensations became foreign and new. When Bill's fingers reached the pocket of semen it felt strangely as though he'd burst it. The localized wetness was suddenly spread throughout my entire pussy, filling every part of me. Gently expanding me from within.

Bill pulled out ever so slightly, which changed the pressure into a light suction that Caleb's cum followed, painting itself on my every internal surface. Bill's knuckles now opened me with a silky ease that would have been luxurious, had it not felt so violating.

As a young woman on the pill. My relationship with my boyfriend's cum was already a point of some personal confusion. To be honest, in most cases I found it mildly unpleasant. Not so bad as to ruin the mood after it ran down my fingers, or my chest, or even my face, if I was feeling extra slutty that night. But a sticky mess rapidly cooling in the air, or sliding unevenly down my throat, just wasn't a turn on for me.

But inside of me, it was always different. Warm and private. Lingering even as he softened and left me. Sure, there was the latent ick of messy biology. But that had its own strange appeal at times. Like I was somehow a noble martyr for accepting Caleb in his entirety, even when he was a boy doing what boys do best; making a mess.

All of this is to explain why, when Bill's fingers punctured the tentative intimacy I felt with Caleb's seed, it was shattering. Sure, Bill's fondling of our intimates as we fucked had already been an invasion of Caleb and my bond. But it had been, to my mind, a voyeuristic one. Perverse and embarrassing, but ultimately titillating. Kinky. This felt different.

Bill curled his fingers and pulled Caleb's cum from me. He turned that pristine sphere of heat into a broken mess. As he ripped it from me some of it stayed clinging to my vulva, cooling in the air in exactly the way I hated. I didn't know what to do. Even if I had understood my feelings at the time, how could I have expressed them? Could I have told Bill that he'd crossed a line? Explained that in my mind this was somehow an attack on Caleb and I's connection. Maybe with a clearer head I would have. But at the time it seemed an impossible idea to explain. Instead, I settled with gripping Caleb tighter. I found a spot in the crook of his neck where I seemed to fit just right. I thought if I held him close enough, pressed myself deep enough into him, there was no way we could be ripped apart.

"You like that sweetheart?" Bill misinterpreted my flurry of emotion. But he didn't seem interested in giving me what he thought I wanted. Because his fingers soon exited me, leaving me feeling decidedly plundered.

Though I could no longer feel them, it didn't take much sleuthing to figure out what Bill's cum covered fingers were up to now. Caleb stiffened. He might even have bolted away if he wasn't trapped under my body. I added guilt to my confusing jumble of emotions as Bill snickered in Caleb's ear. "Don't be shy now. Spread your legs, boy."

Wrapped around him as I was, I could feel even the tiniest movements on Caleb's part. And I was pleased to note that he didn't spread his legs wantonly. He opened them only a smidge. Presumably just enough to let Bill's instant touch through.

Though Caleb was quiet as a mouse, I could feel his every tremble. Bill was playing with my boyfriend's asshole. Putting the cum he'd stolen from me to use.

Bill returned to my pussy a few times for more makeshift lube. These penetrations were quick and utilitarian. Two fingers in, and then a scooping motion that dragged and tugged against my back wall. It wasn't painful, though it threatened to become so, as Bill stole more and more lubrication from me. But before things got to that point, Caleb gave in.

Up until now I'd been pretty sure Bill's exploration of Caleb's ass was external only. I would have squirmed away from those fingers exploring my pussy if I thought they'd actually been inside his butt. My suspicious were confirmed when, shortly after Bill's fingers exited me again, Caleb's silence finally ended. He didn't speak. Not words anyway. But he opened his mouth in a sharp exhale, like something heavy had suddenly settled on his chest. And I knew then that he'd been breached.

Caleb started to squirm underneath me. His breaths came in shakes, like he was fighting a chill. But against my bare skin, he was burning hot. I hugged him tighter anyway.

Bill grinned at my over my boyfriend's shoulder as he violated him. There was a lusty, maniacal, look to him that I recognized and associated with being spread, manhandled, and used. It made me wet again. But it also made me feel complicit in Caleb's torment. As I supposed I was, since I was the ballast holding Caleb down.

From the pace of Caleb's breathing, I could tell Bill was fingering him slowly. But slow does not necessarily mean gentle. Caleb's fingers clawed at my back like they were searching for purchase, and each exhale came more raggedy than the last. At one point he whimpered, choked to a short squeak as I felt his abs squeeze tight. He was trying to stay stoic, I realized.

I wondered if he was holding on for my sake. Like he was worried I might see him in a different light if he just gave in. It was sweat, noble in a twisted way, to think he was suffering for me. But I knew he was fighting a losing battle. Bill could tell as well as I that Caleb was teetering on some edge. And the hungry lust the bigger man was glaring into me told me he intended to watch my boyfriend fall.

I pulled Caleb to my throat. Tangled my fingers in his messy hair. "Oh my love. You know I like the noises you make. Just let go," I whispered.

He did. Tentative at first, he mewed into the nape of my neck. But once his resistance cracked, it shattered. And my boyfriend was soon groaning, and almost crying, to the rhythm of Bill's plundering.

I'd thought I was giving Caleb a way out. That if I encouraged him to surrender he could let go of the tension I felt in him. I was mistaken. Caleb's fingers dug no less desperately into my back, and the rhythmic rocking of our stack of bodies told me that Bill, instead of being gracious in victory, was only intensifying his assault.

"You're doing good baby. So good." I rolled my hips against Caleb, searching for his cock with my sensitive sex. And sensitive it was. Even if I might have wanted to, I couldn't deny that a part of me was getting off on Caleb's predicament. I'd hoped to feel his cock stiff between us. In part out of a selfish desire to grind against it, but also to reassure myself that he was finding a little pleasure among his suffering. To my disappointment, though, Caleb's penis stayed small and flaccid even as I captured it between us. I knew he'd already cum, and that anal play could make getting hard difficult. But still, it worried me.

"Bill. How about some more lube?" I asked.

"Good thinking cupcake. Grab the condom from my wallet," Bill nodded at the table next to us, where his wallet indeed lay, half opened like a forbidden book. "There's lube on that." Oops.

Before I could even reach for Bill's wallet, Caleb lifted his face from my neck. I felt damp and sweaty where he'd been. "No. I can't," he whispered.

Bill ignored him. "Sweetheart, get the condom."

"He said, 'No'."

Bill's eyes flashed. "Fine. But your gonna pick up the slack."

'No,' formed itself on my lips. But I didn't give voice to it. Not out of lust, but out of fear. Bill seemed to tower over me, even with Caleb acting as a buffer and raising me up. And the glint of fire I'd just seen, his annoyance, at being told, 'No', was setting my hairs on end. Here was a strange man who made women uncomfortable as a matter of course. I didn't understand him. Had already pressed my luck.

"Okay. But, not my ass. Please?" I looked away. Trying to be demure. Needing to hide my embarrassment.

"Only because you said please." Bill's free hand found my hair and grabbed hold. It was an inelegant grip. A few stray strands pulled taught and then snapped between his fingers as he yanked me backward, bearing my neck to him. "Condoms are a pain anyway."

I stumbled ungainly off of Caleb, trying to keep at least some of my roots intact. I managed to bite back any cries of pain, at least.

"Wait," started Caleb. But I shushed him. Fighting the urge to pry Bill's fingers from my ponytail, I instead palmed Caleb's cheeks. Coerced him to look at me.

"It's okay. I'm alright. We're having fun," I told him. I got only a grimace of a smile back. Bill hadn't stopped fingering him.

I was pulled down until I was kneeling between Bill and Caleb's legs again. The view was obscene. Bill had shifted his hips to spread Caleb's legs wide. My boyfriend's calves dangled on either side of the bigger man's thighs, and I could see everything going on between them. Bill had two thick fingers in Caleb. Even as I watched, they drove in and out. The cum that lubricated them could barely be said to be doing the job. In fact, some of it had escaped to speckle the area around Caleb's hole with little dots that were starting to look more solid than liquid.

Caleb whimpered again. I wondered if he knew I was staring at him, so skewered and vulnerable. Or if he was just expressing his discomfort. It did look uncomfortable. Bill's fingers sawed at him him with at an uneven pace, friction pulling or pushing his abused ring along with them until there was mercifully slick spot in the lube, or physics just wouldn't let his tender skin be tugged any further.

I knew I had to do something to sooth poor Caleb. When Bill's assaulting hand was mostly withdrawn, poised to start its cruel return journey. I gently clasped it in my own, and leaned in. I had to move Caleb's balls out of the way, but I was able to position my lips above Bill's fingers and drool a nice stream of saliva onto them. It wasn't ideal, and it certainly wasn't classy, but mixing with the cum, it seemed to help. Bill's fingers disappear back into Caleb more easily, and his whimpers lost some of their more desperate notes.

I drooled on Bill's fingers a few more times. Well aware that my contributions wouldn't last long, but feeling the need to do something. Soon though, the hand in my hair was dragging me away and down.

Down, of course, to Bill's eager cock. Erect as ever, like an angry spike. I braced myself to be shoved roughly onto it, hoping I had enough saliva left to lubricate myself.

Yet to my surprise, Bill was gentle. Or at least, not too demanding. Once I'd taken him obediently, maybe an inch past the head, he let me go. I hadn't realized how much tension he was holding in my hair, and it was an immediate relief. I took him deeper of my own accord, grateful and willing to work for further clemency.

"Wait. Wait! Slow the fuck down princess. Follow my lead. You're gonna make me feel like I'm fucking your boyfriend's ass."

It took me a some time to understand what the big pervert wanted. It was only when I saw that his fingers had paused, their tips just barely piercing Caleb, that I understood. The fingers moved. Caleb moaned in protest as his sphincter switched from being pulled to being pushed. And I, starting just past the head of Bill's cock, made my own tight ring with my lips.

"There you go sweetie. Just like that. Pay attention now."

As Bill''s fingers sunk their way further into Caleb, I swallowed more of him myself, trying my best to match the depth.

"Perfect," Bill groaned.

I didn't hate the praise. In fact, it reminded me that there was needy tingle between my legs. Since my orgasm didn't seem to be a priority for Bill, I'd just resolved to reach down and do something about it myself, when Caleb made a particularly pitiful groan. Bill had shoved into him almost as deep as he could go, and I, without much thought, had gone deeply down on Bill's cock at the same time. So I didn't touch myself. Not because my body wasn't crying out for it. But out of guilt. I didn't want to feel like I was getting off on Caleb's suffering.

Bill kept talking as he conducted me. It was clear he was getting close. Not just because he was taking shorter breaths, but also because he was becoming more vulgar. At some point he started telling Caleb how good it felt fucking his asshole. I tried not to think about that too much. I liked knowing my technique was working for Bill, but I wasn't sure I wanted to commit to the metaphor.

"Ah, fuck. I'm close. Squeeze me, boy. Milk my cum into your hole." Bill's fingers stopped their assault. Stationed up to the second knuckle in my boyfriend.

I watched, admittedly fascinated, as Caleb's asshole twitched once, cautiously.

"Yes. Harder."

"Unfh." From my obscene observation point, I could see Caleb clamp down much harder on Bill's fingers.

I did my best to mimic the technique. I made a tight seal with my lips and sucked. This earned me an appreciative groan. Bill was incredibly hard now. The channel on the underside of his cock bulged out against my tongue.

My jaw was sore, but at least Bill's cock was sensibly in my mouth, and not jamming down my throat. In fact, suckling in time with Caleb's contractions was almost soothing. A simple, uncomplicated act of service and submission that felt right. In fact, it was so soothing that I almost failed to register the low rumbling, "Mmmmmmh," Bill had started to make. And it wasn't until his cock jerked, violently and out of our established rhythm, that I realized how close to the edge I'd brought him.

I'd half expected Bill to stop me pulling him out of my mouth. I braced for iron hands holding me down as he coated the back of my throat like glue. But they never came. He let me pull away.

With both hands I held him against my chest. He was already twitching by the time I'd situated myself. And he spurted between my tits in time with my first stroke. Thighs pressed tight to my sides, as Bill's whole body tensed, and Caleb punctuated the moment with his own cry, as that tension translated to cruelly curled fingers.

I kept pumping Bill. Twice more he convulsed fully, spraying hot against my chest with enough force that my chin was also hit by a few rapidly cooling drops. Then the violence of his orgasm subsided. I milked the rest from him with tight strokes, my spit and his cum mixing into a thick lubrication, until he started to soften in my grip.

I looked up at Bill, past Caleb. He was slumped back in the chair, spent.

The guilt set back in then, as I realized I'd forgotten, if just for a moment, about my poor boyfriend. Suddenly the cum that lathered my hands and chest, like sunscreen before you rub it in, repulsed me. I wanted nothing more than to scramble into the staff bathroom, grabbing a couple bar rags on the way. But there was something I needed to do first.

Delicately, so as not to smear Bill's fluids anywhere new, I reached out for the fingers penetrating Caleb. I coaxed them out of him. Bill didn't fight me. He let me guide them out of my poor boyfriend's hole, which was left looking puffy, tender, and angry red. Caleb was going to need more than a towel before he'd feel human again. I resolved that we'd stop for soothing cream on the walk home.

Caleb didn't want to talk much that night. Aside from assuring me he was okay, we walked home in silence. He didn't even argue about visiting the drug store. I don't think he used the cream that night though. As soon as the opportunity presented itself he was in bed, fast asleep.

Sleep came nowhere near as easily to me. I tossed and turned. It was a testament to how deeply comatose Caleb was that I didn't wake him.

I couldn't get my feelings about the night straight. My guilt and worry for Caleb wared with my arousal. In the end though, arousal won. Perhaps not for any good reason. But because of the simple fact that though Bill and Caleb had cum that night, I'd been left wanting. I'd been penetrated, sure. But I hadn't been allowed any real pleasure. And I hadn't taken the chance to give myself any. My body was confused, I told myself. There was no way I'd be able to sleep until...

I curled up with my back to Caleb's, his warmth against me, and his slow steady breathing assuring me he wouldn't wake up. I didn't have to spit on my fingers. There was more than enough wetness between my legs. To hide from the shame I balled myself up, my fingers and long neglected clit at its core.

I felt the building tightness of my orgasm immediately. Which was a relief, because it meant I didn't have to think of anything beyond the pure physical pleasure of the act. Because if I let my mind wander, I knew the night would replay itself again and again in again in my mind.

My orgasm burned hot, but intense. A shooting star streaking in before bursting in a blaze of glory. It was fierce and wonderful. But on it heels, something else rumbled. Deep and terrible, like the first shudders of an earthquake, it goaded me on.

It wasn't a finger dance anymore. It was all hips, as I ground my clit against the meat of my palm. I came again, lengthy, tumultuous and cascading. My previous concerns about waking Caleb were far from my mind. I was too busy reliving, in every sordid detail, the night we'd just had.

Breathing heavily, a fresh coat of sweat pricking my skin, I stared up into the darkness. My shame, disgust, and worry were still there. But I couldn't lie to myself now. They were a price. Like the money Bill had given us. A price I knew I'd pay again if given half a chance.

Caleb stayed distant for a time. Aside from assuring me that he was fine, I couldn't get him to open up about our night with Bill. Whenever I tried, he'd just tell me he was alright and pull me close. Then we'd fuck, full of a desperate passion neither of us understood. We clutched each other tight, thighs and necks and hands twining in strange new ways as we tried to collapse in on ourselves, unwilling to loosen our grips even to change positions. I wasn't complaining. But I was starting to get worried.

Each shift at the bar I feared Bill would appear in the doorway, leering through my shirt like his cum was still sticking to me. But thankfully, he stayed away.

At least, I was thankful at first. After almost a week I was appalled to find myself looking for Bill when the door chime rang. Despite myself it hurt to think he might have just moved on. And I feared there was a part of me that would let him have us again. Even though we clearly weren't done processing the last time.

I existed in a horny funk. Melancholy, even as I rode Caleb near to exhaustion on a nightly basis. Until one day, the door chime rang. It wasn't Bill. I swallowed the familiar little pang of relief laced regret I always did. But this time, I happened to glance to Caleb, instead of the floor.

I'd said I loved Caleb because we were the same soul. And I will stand by that. Because when looked away from the door, I saw myself mirrored in his face. At last, I knew we'd be okay. Caleb was special to me, and there were plenty of men like Bill.

The end! For now, at least.

If you made it this far, I'd love to hear what you thought. Kisses!