I stretch out my hand to touch skin. My fingertips move across ribs until they find already-hard nubs, stopping on darkened flesh to play. I feel lips trace my jaw line. My eyes shut and I fall back onto warm flesh. Another pair of eyes watches the progress of the lips down my neck and sternum. As the mouth begins to suckle I feel a hardness grow against the base of my spine.
As the mouth begins to suckle I feel a hardness grow against the base of my spine.
I turn my neck and find a second pair of lips waiting to lock with mine. A long, deep kiss distracts me, yet I feel the first mouth move lower. The kiss is broken and hands begin to stroke at the base of my back from behind. They lightly trace the curves of my hips and give butterfly touches to my spine. I feel warm breath on my belly as the first mouth continues downward. A tongue snakes about the rounded flesh it finds there, tasting and leaving a trail.
Hands now rest on my shoulders. I feel the warmth of breath by my neck before the dampness of lips on the nape. The hands below my waist part me, open me and search inside. I shift my weight to allow entry.
Two tongues, each trying to reach my core. I need them both to be complete. I no longer blush when I feel my own wetness. I no longer believe this is a transgression. I marvel at the intensity of the sensations and the perfect balance we create between us.
I no longer blush when I feel my own wetness. I no longer believe this is a transgression. I marvel at the intensity of the sensations and the perfect balance we create between us.
The first time was unplanned. Still high from a party, we were just friends having fun and pushing boundaries. Now we are intoxicated by the act itself; by being three sides to the same whole. We choose not to consider how long it will last or how it will resolve. We are three.
Story Alex Goodison
Illustration India Ink
This story appeared in Filament Magazine Issue 4. That issue is sold out now. You can still buy our latest issue.