After our trip, Kyle and I didn’t see each other for a while. Our college years were decidedly over now. The leeway he’d had on money from his parents was decidedly over. We’d had vague plans to continue on as roommates after graduation, but that had been before our trip, before all that had happened and before the harsh reality of the job search had hit us.
Kyle would be looking for work as a programmer somewhere and I had dreams of becoming an editor in the last gasps of the dying newspaper industry. As the weeks went on, my dreams shifted to something more attainable and then finally, drifted to anything I could get my hands on.
I had settled into a job waiting tables on a night shift on a diner. Between bouts of solitude, there were fits of teenagers slipping in for a late-night burger and spurts of truckers and travelers. But mostly, there was nothing. Meager tips and long nights.
One night, the emptiness was broken by a phone call–from Kyle. I could tell that he’d been drinking but, three hours into a night shift, so had I, a little.
“I wondered if you wanted to come over sometime,” he’d said.
“Sure.”
I had visions of him, played out naked in a sleeper car, knelt down between my legs in an airplane bathroom, wondering what would happen if we were given room to spread out.
“–meet my girlfriend,” he’d been saying.
“What?”
“I want you to meet my girlfriend,” he said again. I heard the hollowness in his voice.
“Oh,” I’d said. “Sure.”
The night arrived and I made it to Kyle’s apartment with a six-pack to share. McKenzi was a short, dark-haired woman with full lips and a full set of breasts that shifted easily and free under her flowy black top. She was vaguely familiar to me.
“We met in college, actually,” she said. “Finance 101?”
“Right,” I said, surprised to feel the brush of her lips on my cheek in greeting.
Kyle raised his eyebrows at me and took my beer to the fridge. We had a quick dinner and got right down to the business of the night: drinking.
###
I liked McKenzi–Mack, as she liked to be called–immediately. She was bubbly and quick to laugh. She told the story of how she and Kyle had gotten together once in college and then back together in the last few weeks easily, with many a glance between them. All through the night, though, I was battling a strange egg in my throat–a feeling like I was sitting across from my ex’s new boyfriend. I pushed it away, reminding myself what Kyle and I had agreed. It wasn’t gay. We were lonely. There was nothing more to it.
Still, the jealousy reared up every now and again, pushed back down by beer and, twice, tequila shots.
After a while, McKenzi excused herself and left her wine glass on the table. She vanished down the hallway with a significant glance over her shoulder at Kyle. His eyes snapped to mine and I looked away. We hadn’t spent much time alone together since our flight home. Whenever I looked at him, I couldn’t help but see his mouth around my cock again.
“So, what’s up with you?” he said. “Really?”
I knew that he had sensed the tension in the room. I broke it with another sip of beer.
“Really, nothing much,” I said, “just this dumb job, you know?”
We sat quietly for a moment, looking away from one another.
“Is everything good with us?” Kyle asked suddenly.
I felt the lump returning to my throat.
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course. Why?”
“Only, last time–one the plane–it seemed like we were going to be–like you wanted–and now I’m seeing Mack, so…”
Kyle trailed off. I bought time with a sip of beer. I knew what he was thinking–the kiss. I’d spent months wondering what it had meant, what it might mean. I’d spent so long thinking about it that it no longer mattered. Kyle was with McKenzi and now, no matter what had happened with us, it was over.
“Nah, man,” I said, playing it off. “It’s cool. We were just–playing around.”
“Right,” he said, nodding and peeling at the label on his beer. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“No,” I said. “Work kind of takes it out of me.”
“Ah, so you’re not getting any,” he said, a hint of his old teasing nature returning to his voice.
I chuckled and shook my head, knowing that we were both thinking the same thing. The last time we’d both been having a dry spell…
“You know,” Kyle said slowly. “I think Mack would fuck you.”
“Woah, what?” I said. “She’s your girlfriend, dude. I’m not hitting on her or anything, I swear.”
“Relax,” he said. “It’s not that serious with us. Besides, we’ve done it before. Kind of how we met in college.”
“Done what?”
“You know, shared.”
My eyes couldn’t help but trace the hard line that had appeared in Kyle’s pants. I drank.
“You want me to fuck your girlfriend? I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”
“Well,” he said. “You do owe me.”
###
The night lolled on and the three of us began to fill the kitchen sink with empty bottles. By 2 A.M., we had committed to tequila shots and appetizers. By 3, Mack was visibly horny. She had thrown a leg over Kyle’s thigh, and lay sprawled on the couch.
I could only watch, growing hard and soft as Kyle’s words ran back and forth through my spinning head.
Kyle pulled out of a kiss with Mack, and she seemed to fold into him.
“So, baby,” he said, looking over at me. “What do you think of my friend?”
Her eyes were two pricks of flame reflected in the pale light. They darted over to me.
“I like him.”
“I want to see you suck his dick,” Kyle said.
I shifted uncomfortably.
“Oh,” she said. “Mmm.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked her.
She slipped from his lap onto her knees and crawled a few paces over to me, climbing my legs to rest her head in my lap. Two fingers stroked my already hard dick.
“Do you think I can do it better than him?” she whispered.
I started.
“You told her?” I snapped.
In the time it had taken McKenzi to slink over to me, Kyle had slid out his cock. It was nearly a familiar sight now, but still, it stopped me.
Mack giggled and pressed her tongue up against my pants.
“Take it out for me, baby,” she said.
Kyle was masturbating openly. As if I’d lost control of myself, I was working at my pants, slipping my cock free. Then, her lips had closed over the head of my penis and I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Mack had lost her top and her breasts, two full handfuls with hard, brown nipples, were free. One of her hands had reached into her tight shorts.
Kyle had shifted closer to me. His cock was long and hard and tempting. I reached over and began to stroke it, feeling somehow that this was the right thing to do. I looked up at him. He gave a sort of shrug and a nod of his head as if to say, “why not?”
Mack eyed my busy hand. It seemed to intensify her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Let me see.”
Gently, she pulled me to my knees beside her. I looked up at Kyle. Any hint of a jest had gone from his eyes. He was lost in lust. For me, for Mack, I didn’t know.
“I want to see you suck my boyfriend’s cock,” McKenzi said.
It loomed there, long and wet at the tip. He’d shaven it since I’d last seen it. I looked at Mack, her eyes staring eagerly at me, tongue pressing against her bottom lip. Somehow, I knew that I wanted Kyle in my mouth, but Mack made me feel… watched, as though a private moment was being taken from me.
All at once, I felt myself drifting towards the waiting cock. Then, I had engulfed him. Mack’s hands were stroking my back, my neck, tangling in my hair. I felt his balls. I felt the pulsing head of his cock touch my tongue, the back of my mouth, pass into my throat. I coughed and let him out again, trailing with a string of saliva. Then, Mack had joined me and, together, we worked at Kyle’s cock until he pushed us off.
“I don’t want to cum yet,” he said, chest heaving.
“That was so hot, baby,” Mack crooned.
I put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the hollow of her neck, pushing her down onto the carpet.
She giggled as I planted my head between her legs. I drew back her clothes, removing them one article at a time until she was bare on the carpet at Kyle’s feet. Her skin was pale in the low light of Kyle’s living room. Her breasts were small, nipples hard and pink. I descended on her again, pressing my lips to her pussy and tasting her. I felt her fingers in my hair.
“Fuck her,” Kyle suddenly commanded.
I looked up at him, caught his eye.
I slapped Mack’s thigh and turned her over. She looked back at me with a knowing, mischievous grin.
And I was inside of her.
It had been so long since I’d been with a woman. Her pussy was tight and wet. Somehow, the knowledge that Kyle, watching us, had been there before only goaded me on. I leaned in and kissed her, feeling somehow closer to him as I tasted her tongue.
Then, Kyle was on his knees and his cock was there. I watched as Mack took him in her mouth. Envied her. I swallowed the rampant jealousy with a gulp of beer and pushed into her harder.
We fucked for what felt like hours, long enough for our bodies to turn to sweat.
Looking from the black and purple tattoo on Mack’s backside up to Kyle’s hard eyes, I felt waves of thrills running through my body. What Kyle and I had done before had felt new, different, almost wrong. What we were doing now felt like even more.
I leaned into Mack, thrusting harder into her and let a hand fall on Kyle’s shoulder. He placed a hand on mine. Before long, he and I were kissing over the writhing, sweating curves of Mack’s body.
“Mmm,” she moaned underneath me. “Yes, baby.”
“I want to fuck you,” Kyle whispered to me. I could feel the effort in his voice, like the proposition had been building in him for some time. All night. All week. Ever since Europe.
“Yes,” I said. The word came out in a rasp, surprising me.
Mack practically squealed under me as I pulled out of her and lounged back into the couch.
“Really?”
“I want it,” I said. “I don’t care anymore.”
He grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. He pushed me down onto my back and our naked bodies came together. I felt his dick on my thigh. Mack squirmed away. She raised herself to the couch, sprawled out and slid a finger towards her pussy. I fixed my eyes on her. Then, turned on to my knees and elbows.
First, Kyle kissed my ass. Then, he spat. I felt long his tongue next. It was a new sensation, one that sent nerves spooling through me. Anticipation. He didn’t tease me long and quickly he was in me.
I gasped.
Nothing, not even a finger, had gone there before. It hurt. My cheek, rubbing against the carpet, hurt. His hands, hard and firm, grasped my hips and hurt. I felt him pulling slowly out of me. He spat again and pressed on. My eyes, watering from pain, look up again at Mack. She was watching us enraptured, two fingers sneaking inside of herself.
“Go slow.”
Kyle pushed in again and the pain returned–but something else rode with it. He had touched something that I had never felt before and it throbbed. Faster and faster, Kyle worked. I heard him quietly groaning over my grunts of pain and developing pleasure. I was connected to him, feeling his pleasure nearly as intently as I felt my own. I worked a hand between my legs.
All at once, we were in France, standing beneath Napoleon’s arch. We were in London, blitzed on beer. We were in Italy, gazing at the colosseum. His entrance opened a well of memories. We had been roommates, travelers, friends, but this was the ultimate connection. As Kyle pumped into me, I realized that I loved him.
“Yes!” was all I could say. “Yeah, fuck!”
