The Silk Tie (Erotic Threesome Romance) (6 page)

I
reached for the lube with my free hand, added more, then slipped in a second finger.

His
hips bucked and he bowed his back.

“Shh,”
I said, working his cock with my free hand. “Take it easy.”

“Hard
to when you’re in my fucking arse,” he gasped.

Damn,
and I’d hardly started. I didn’t even think I could feel his prostate. This
reaction was just from me being there, stretching his hole around my fingers.

With
small, gentle movements I eased in and out, pretending my fingers were one of
the shorter, stubby dildos I’d seen in the shop. His cock lay on his abdomen,
hard and thick. I reached for it again and pumped him to the same slow rhythm I
was buggering his ass.

“Hales,
I don’t know where this has…come from…this idea. But fuck…it feels awesome.”

“Just
returning the favor, Mr. Stone,” I said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s…different.”

“Good
different?”

“Ah…fuck…yeah,
good different.”

I
pulled out and released his cock.

“Oh,
Jesus,” he said, sitting forward and clasping his cock. “Really, you think
that’s a viable tease?” He swallowed hard and his belly tensed further.

“Oh,
we’re so past teasing.” I stood and placed one hand on my hip, smoothed the tie
with my other. “Now we’re ready for the real deal.”

“The
real deal?” He was breathing fast.

“Yeah.
When I saw you earlier, I’d been to a shop, a sex shop.”

He
raised his eyebrows. “You had?”

“Yes,
to get you something.”

He
pushed his hand through his hair. “What? What the hell did you get?”

“This.”
I stooped and retrieved the strap-on from the drawer. I didn’t bother to hold
it up, to see if he could guess what it was, I simply stepped into it and pulled
it into place.

“What
do you think?” I asked, wrapping my hand around my long, purple cock then
jutting it toward him.

Gabe
opened his mouth then shut it again.

His
expression told me everything. I hadn’t been mistaken last night. He liked it.
He liked the idea of me wearing a dildo and taking him up the ass.

“Arse
play, prostate stimulation, it feels great for a bloke, so I’ve been told,” I
said. “I figured it was time we gave it a go.”

He
nodded, released his cock and touched mine.

“I
think this is the right size,” I said. “But I have a bigger one if you prefer.”

He
shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the dildo. “No. I think that looks
fine.”

“Yes, I
agree.” I moved closer. “Open up.”

“What?”

“Your
mouth. Open up.” Fuck. Had I taken it too far already? This idea had just come
to me. But it felt right, and that’s what he’d said he’d done the night before,
just gone with the whole scene and done what felt right at the time.

“But…?”

“Gabe.”

I
touched the tip of the dildo to his lips. “This is what it’s like for me, when
you put your dick into my mouth. Learn it…experience it.”

He
looked up at me, the light casting shadows from his lower lashes onto his
cheeks. In that moment he appeared vulnerable, unsure. My usually confident,
strong husband was surprised and thrown off kilter.

“Open,”
I said again, cupping his jaw. I needed to be the one in control here, lead the
way, even though it was new to me too.

This
time he did as I’d asked and opened his mouth.

I slid
the first few inches of the dildo in, watching as his lips rounded along the
smooth girth.

Fuck.
It was hot to see. I thought of the men on the Tube, of them sucking each
other’s cocks. Real cocks.

Gabe
would never suck a real cock, I’d never get the chance to watch that, but damn,
this was amazing.

I slid
deeper—not as far as he did with me, I’d had years of practice—but
enough to fill his mouth and for his cheeks to bulge.

“Good
boy,” I said. It was patronizing, I knew that, and in the daytime, at his
office, no one would dare speak to Gabriel Stone that way. But he took it, he
didn’t answer, hell, he couldn’t. He just widened his eyes and flared his
nostrils.

I
pulled out, eased back in then withdrew completely.

“Are
you ready to take what you doled out to me last night?”

He
wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because,”
I leaned forward and brushed my lips over his, “you were so interested in how
it felt and…”

“And
what?”

“And I
saw a sparkle in your eye—you want this, you know you do.”

He
nodded, frowned, swallowed. “Yes.”

“You’ve
been thinking about it, not just yesterday, but for a while.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Getting
arse-fucked. Having me wearing a dildo and making you come and come and come.”

He
sucked in a breath. “Do it.”

Boy,
this was going even better than I’d dared hope.

Again I
pushed his shoulders, forcing him back. “Spread your legs and grip the backs of
your thighs.”

He bent
his knees and did as instructed, showing me his hole and his balls.

When I
was in this open position, with him hovering, I always knew it would be good.
That he’d take care of me, wring out an orgasm, often several. But Gabe didn’t
know that now. He knew I wouldn’t hurt him intentionally but he didn’t know if
he could take it.

“Shh,”
I said, lubing up the dildo. “Calm your breathing.”

His
belly was shifting up and down and his lips were parted, as though he were panting
lightly.

“If you
need to stop just say. We’ll only do what you want to do.”

“Okay.”

I
tipped forward and took his cock in my hand. The tie followed and rested over
his testicles, tickling them with the tip.

“This
arse is a virgin arse, yes?” I said, hoping that my voice was sultry and sexy
and would put him at ease.

“You
know it is.”

I
smiled. “You might have played.”

He
shook his head. “Nope, never.”

“Wow,
I’m honored.” I rubbed my moist fingers over his hole again. “To be the first
in here.”

“Please…”
he said. “Hales…”

This
was the stuff of fantasies. He was practically begging for it.

 I
lined up the tip of the dildo with his entrance. The tie fell into my line of
sight so I flicked at it irritably and it landed over my left shoulder.

“Breathe
out, long and slow,” I said, pushing my hips forward and gaining purchase.

The
sound of his sucked-in breath filled the room.

I
gained a little entry and watched as his hole opened up for me, yawning around
the head of the dildo as I sank deeper.

“Oh,
fuck…” he said, gripping the backs of his thighs and pulling his knees closer
to the outer edge of his chest. “Is that it?”

“Nearly.”
I tugged on his cock. He was rock hard. “A bit more, bear down.”

He
arched his neck and groaned.

I slid to
full depth. His hole took the entire length of the dildo and his balls pressed
up against my harness.

“Ah,
Hales, fuck.” His mouth opened, forming a perfect gasping ‘o’.

“Is it
too much?” I asked, working his shaft with firm, steady strokes.

“No,
no, it’s…”

“Good?”

“Fucking
amazing.” He thrashed his head from left to right. “Go deep, give me more.”

My
heart was thudding. I’d never have believed I’d see my husband like this. When
I’d first met him all those years ago, I’d never have thought he’d be lying on
his back, begging me to fuck his ass.

It was one
of our most glorious moments.

“You
want me to fuck you?” I asked, cupping my free hand over his left knee.

“Yes,
fuck me, fuck my arse.” He opened his eyes and his gaze captured mine. “Fuck me
and don’t hold back. I can take it.”

“You
sure?”

“Yes.”
He placed his hand over mine and jerked on his cock. He lifted his right leg,
straightened it then rested his calf on my shoulder with his shin by my ear.

I began
to rock, pulling almost out then sinking deep again. Each time I slid in, he
jerked then trembled. I guessed that was the tip of the dildo applying pressure
to his prostate.

A sheen
of sweat sat on his chest, gathering on his sternum, and his brow was shiny.

I was
hot too. My skin tingled, my pussy was engorged, and I clenched around nothing.
I would have liked to orgasm but I’d be satisfied enough seeing Gabe come like
this. He looked beautiful.

“I’m…I’m
coming…” he gasped, his body tensing and his muscles straining. “Oh fuck, don’t
stop, don’t you dare stop. Hales…don’t stop.”

“I
won’t. I won’t. Come, come.”

He did;
big spurts of pearly liquid shot from his cock up to the hollow of his throat.
On and on his orgasm claimed him.

He
thrashed and bucked, but I kept on shoving in and out of his hole, riding it
with him and taking him through every shivering release and shout of ecstasy.

His
cock pulsed, his ass gripped the dildo and his legs flopped to the bed.

“Ah,
yeah, yeah…” he panted, slowing the frantic movements on his dick. “Hales,
Jesus, what…”

“What
have I done to you?” I asked with a smile and slowing the thrusting of my hips.

“Yeah,
what have you…done to me?”

I sank
the dildo to full depth and leaned over his body to kiss him.

He
groaned, a guttural, chesty noise that seemed to start so deep inside of him
and vibrate through all of his limbs.

Oh,
yeah, I’d done something to him all right. I’d shown him a whole new way to
find pleasure, a whole new way to orgasm.

We were
going to have so much fun.

“Hey,
baby, I take it you haven’t got a busy day?” Gabe asked the next morning as he
poured coffee.

“No,
thank goodness. Usually Friday is manic but this week it’s not so bad.” I
gestured down at my state of undress. I hadn’t even showered and was in my robe.
“As you can probably tell.”

He
smiled. “And what plans do we have for the weekend?” he asked, looking at me
over the rim of his mug.

“For a
change, nothing,” I said, tipping my head and grinning cheekily. “So you can do
whatever you want.”

“Damn,
there’s lots of things I want.” He stepped close and set his coffee on the
table. “And they all include you.”

“So you
liked what we did last night?”

“You
know full well I did, but…”

“But
what?” I frowned then realization dawned. “But it will take a day or two before
you want more, right?”

He
leaned down and kissed me. “Mmm, perhaps. It feels kind of nice to have a
slight throb there, in my behind, you know.”

“Yes,
of course I know. And all day today, whenever you notice that ache, think of
me. Think of last night.”

“I
will. Oh, don’t you worry, I will.”

A bleep
came from his phone. “Here we go,” he said, straightening. “Let the madness
begin.”

I
watched as he glanced at the screen.

He seemed
to hold in a smile.

“Everything
all right?” I asked, wondering what case had suddenly taken a turn in his favor.

“Yes,
fine.”

“Who is
it?”

“Brent
Dawson. He’s got something to discuss with me.”

I
laughed. “He must be made of money. He had you to himself for a few hours
yesterday.” I stopped. “Oh, maybe it’s not his divorce he wants to discuss.
You’re friends now. I forgot. He doesn’t have to pay to be with you.”

 Gabe
ran his fingers over his temple. “Listen, I have to run. I’ll see you later,
okay.”

“The
Golden Goose?”

“Yes,
maybe. I don’t know. I’ll call you.”

He had
a final slurp of his coffee then grabbed his jacket and dashed out of the
kitchen.

The
front door slammed and I was left looking at the space he’d occupied. It would
have been nice to have a lazy morning together. Take a shower. Perhaps have him
pleasure me since I hadn’t come last night. His tongue bringing me to a slow
and lazy orgasm would have suited me very well.

I shut
the paper and pushed my mug aside.

I’d
just have to sort myself out.

After
locking the front door, I headed up the stairs. I cleaned the dildo then put it
away in the top drawer for another night. Thoughts of the erotic emporium came
back to me. So many things—toys—in there that I’d like to try.
Maybe I’d take Gabe, he’d be allowed in the women’s shop with me, men had to be
accompanied. We could pick out some stuff together, spice up our sex life big
time. After all these years, it was probably about overdue.

I
flicked on the shower and stripped naked. Once in, I quickly lathered my hair
then reached for the handheld hose. It was my instrument of choice when I
wanted a quick, no nonsense climax to set me up for the day.

I
spread my pussy lips and directed the jet onto the sensitive flesh just above
my clit.

“Mmm…”

Tipping
my head back onto the tiles, I widened my stance and shut my eyes. The water
was warm and the jet fast and efficient. Soon the pressure was building—a
sharp, intense pressure that had me gasping and my knees trembling.

I
didn’t mess around, just let the climax race full speed toward me and then rack
my body with delicious release.

“Oh,
yeah,” I gasped and curled forward. An image of Gabe coming with the dildo up
his ass seared across my mind. His body thrashing, out of control  and
owned by me.

My
orgasm stretched out as I remembered the way I’d plundered into his hole once
he’d got used to the dildo invading him. Every damn thing about Gabe was so
sexy, so highly charged. He was beautiful, perfect and my most treasured
possession.

* * * *

“So are
you up for a drink?” I asked Gabe over the phone later that afternoon.

“Well,
it’s a bit awkward,” he said hesitantly. “I’ve got a lot on.”

“Oh,
okay, I’ll just go home and start dinner then. Anything particular you fancy?”

“No,
and…I might eat out.”

I was
silent for a moment as I picked at a bit of fluff on my skirt. “Oh, okay.”

“I
would rather be home, but you see, Brent, he’s asked me if I’d like to try the
new Indian on Duke Street and—”

“No,
no, that’s fine. You go out with Brent.” I turned and stared out of my office
window. The gray of the wall opposite had a wilted bit of weed growing from its
guttering. “It’s nice that you have a friend to spend time with.”

And I
meant that, really I did. Gabe had lost touch with his old university friends
since we’d met and moved to London. Life and careers had just taken over. All he
did with other men was work.

“Are
you sure? I feel bad,” he said.

“No,
don’t be silly. I’ve got some girly stuff to do.” Did I? What, paint my toenails
and put on a facemask? “And I’ve got that chick flick on DVD that I’ve been
meaning to watch for ages. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later, when you get
home.”

“Okay,
if you’re sure.”

I
laughed and tried to make it sound one hundred percent relaxed. “Of course I’m
sure. I’m not your keeper. Go have some man time.”

I hung
up and looked at the picture of Gabe and me on my cell screen. It was a selfie
I’d taken of us in St. Kitts in the spring. We were both tanned and smiling. He
had a mojito in his hand and behind us the blue of the Caribbean lit the
skyline.

Quashing
down a lump of sadness that I wouldn’t be meeting him in The Golden Goose
within the next hour, I finished off my paperwork. Monday was a big court day,
but I was ready. My case was well prepared, and as long as the opposition
didn’t throw any spanners in the works all should go in our favor.

I
packed my laptop away then threw my diary into my purse. Old habits died hard,
and I stuck with a paper diary, always one that Gabe bought me each Christmas.

“Bye,
Jeannie,” I said to my secretary, who was finishing up some filing.

“Have a
good weekend, Hayley,” she said, smiling. “You doing anything much?”

“For a
change, no, not really. The weather is set to stay nice, though, so perhaps a
walk in one of the parks. What about you?”

“Oh,
we’re off to Yorkshire. Some steam train exhibition Harold is dying to see.”
She grinned. “I’ll enjoy it too, of course. His enthusiasm has become
infectious over the years. I know my Flying Scotsman from my Mallard.”

“Sounds
great. Have a wonderful time. See you Monday after court.”

“Yes,
good luck with that.”

I
wandered out of the firm’s revolving front door and into the June heat. Within
minutes I was on the Tube. It was busy; the throng of people irritated me, as
did the assortment of scents and the number of bags that knocked into me.

I
decided to get off at Sloane Street and walk the last half a mile home along
King’s Road. I’d duck into a few of the shops there and see if there was
anything that took my fancy. Retail therapy was always good for my soul, plus I
had to pick up a birthday present for my sister ready to send to her in New
York next month.

It was
marginally less busy on King’s Road, though still the usual hustle and bustle
on the main thoroughfare. I ducked into Anya Hindmarch and spotted a beautiful,
fall season white leather clutch purse that I knew my sister would love. I
ended up purchasing two because I couldn’t resist one for myself.

I
nipped into Bluebird and picked up a seasonal salad from the food store. That
would do me this evening with a glass of chilled Chardonnay.

The rest
of my walk home was pleasant along the wide paved paths of Chelsea. Everyone
seemed in a good mood, the sun bringing out happiness that the fog and rain
kept dampened down in other seasons.

We had
iron railings at the entrance to our house and I paused there, rested my purse
against them and rooted in my bag for my keys. I didn’t usually have to unlock
the door; more often than not, Gabe was with me and he always had his keys at
the ready.

I found
them, walked up the three wide steps then let myself in through the polished
black door. Once inside, I kicked off my shoes and pushed them into the corner.

The
hall was high-ceilinged, the floor tiles cool on my feet, and the air was a
welcome temperature after the heat of the day. I sorted through the post, bills
and junk mail, then went for a shower to wash away the dust.

After
pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, I drew the white curtains across the bay window
in the lounge and sat, knees tucked up, on the sleek chocolate-brown leather
sofa. I hit PLAY on the rom com I’d had in mind—some cheesy Jennifer Anniston
and Adam Sandler thing—and got to work on my salad.

For a
while my mind wandered and I thought about what Gabe and Brent would be eating.
Gabe adored a strong curry and would no doubt go for madras then hunt around
for antacids in the middle of the night.

I put
my salad to one side, went into the kitchen then pulled a pack from the
cupboard. I set them on the counter so he’d know where they were if he wanted
them. It would save me having to tell him later when I was half asleep.

After
pouring a glass of white wine, I went back to my movie. Soon it absorbed me and
I found myself lost in the story. It was an easy watch, humorous and with
pretty scenery.

When it
had finished, the daylight seeping in around the curtains had faded. I put on
the side lamp and hunted through my stash of movies for another to watch. I’d
wait up for Gabe. He probably wouldn’t be too much longer. He was always tired
on a Friday night and ten-thirty would likely be his limit.

A
Sandra Bullock movie tempted me, and, nibbling on a small bar of my favorite
chocolate, I hit PLAY.

I
wondered if people would think Gabe and Brent were an item, a couple out having
a romantic meal. I huffed. As if! Gabe oozed heterosexual appeal. There was
nothing feminine about him at all.

But
then…?

There
hadn’t been anything feminine about the construction workers on the Tube I’d
seen. They were testosterone overdosed, they couldn’t have been more masculine.
Yet they were clearly gay.

Would
there be a candle on the table between Brent and Gabe? Would Gabe laugh the way
he had been yesterday when I’d seen them having lunch together?

I
shifted on the seat, screwed up the wrapper from the chocolate then tossed it
onto the table.

Damn
it. Imagine if a woman, like me, looked at them and thought of them having sex
together. She’d picture Gabe and Brent, naked. Gabe doubled up, knees bent like
they’d been last night, and taking not my fake dick, but Brent’s real one.
Would his expression be the same? No, likely Brent’s cock would be bigger, thicker,
longer. He’d probably have to battle some discomfort. But then, would it feel
better? A real, hard, hot cock pushing in and out of him rather than my
silicone one?

“For
crying out loud, Hayley Stone.” I stood, so irritated with the direction of my
thoughts that I’d admonished myself. “Where has this come from?”

I
needed more wine. I went into the kitchen and topped myself up. I wouldn’t
think of Gabe in bed with another woman so why was I thinking of him and Brent
getting frisky? It was absurd. It was like nothing I’d ever imagined before.

I’d
just sat down again when I heard a key fumbling at the front door.

Good,
Gabe was home. That would stop my ridiculous musings.

I
glanced at my watch. It was gone eleven-thirty.

After a
few moments of him not opening the door, I wandered into the hall and peeked
through the eyehole.

Yes, it
was him.

His
eyes were narrowed and he was concentrating hard on getting the key in the
lock, but without much success.

Oh,
God, he was drunk.

I
pulled open the door.

He
staggered forward and I dodged out of the way.

“Hey,”
I said, shutting the door and bolting it. “Had fun?”

“Yeah,
yeah, it was good.” He grinned and adjusted his balance.

“Nice
meal?”

“Really
nice. I’ll take you there.” His grin widened.

“I’ve
just poured wine, but do you want a glass of water?”

“Nah,
do me wine.”

I
raised my eyebrows. “Sure?”

He
flapped his hand and headed toward the kitchen. “Yeah, wine’s good. Brent ordered
a fabulous bottle of Merlot. Was like butter and burnt toast.”