The Visitor Entertains E-Book

K.D. West

• Herausgeber: Stillpoint/Eros
• Serie: A Friendly Ménage
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Seitenzahl: 113

Beschreibung

Lea and Her Firemen Burn the Theater Down! 

Andy and Sean are going to join their lover Lea at the theater where she works — but are they going to watch a show, or are they going to be the show?

This trio is taking things to the next level in every sense, and Lea thinks that’s wonderful… But what about the neighbors? And her co-workers? And — gulp — what about Sean’s mom?

She and her boys are finding that as complex as their relationship is, that’s nothing to trying to explain it to the outside world.

(FMM ménage à trois, threesome erotic romance, anal sex, pegging, adult readers 18+ only!)

"The Visitor series of stories… blow the lid off of a 5 rating!" — The Romance Reviews

The fifth story in The Visitor Saga*: 

1 - The Visitor
2 - The Visitor Comes Home
3 - The Visitor Comes Again
4 - The Visitor Goes to Work
5 - The Visitor Entertains
6 - The Visitor Takes a Trip
7 - The Visitor Has Company

*The complete saga is available in the collection The Visitor Comes for Good

Leseprobe

The Visitor Entertains:

A Friendly MMF Ménage Tale

by

K. D. West

The Visitor #5

The Visitor Entertains: A Friendly MMF Ménage Tale

Copyright © 2014, Stillpoint Digital Press (stillpointdigital.com)

Published by Stillpoint/Eros

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places or events is purely coincidental.

Warning: This work contains explicit descriptions of fictional sexual activity provided for the reader’s enjoyment. It is not intended as sexual or medical advice. Readers should educate themselves and take all proper precautions (including condoms) before engaging in any acts depicted herein.Sex Ed at Good Vibrations

All sexual encounters in this work occur between — and among — consenting adults aged 18 and above.

ISBN: 978-1-310421-39-6

Version 1.4-publishdrive

K.D. West's Friendly Ménage tales:

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The Visitor Entertains

Lea had never really been one to watch the news. She’d always read the newspapers for work — mostly the entertainment section for the reviews, and occasionally the sports. But by her second month in Atlanta, she had learned to tune into the five o’clock local broadcast — at least on the days when Andy and Sean were on duty.

She had also programmed an alert that would pop up on her phone whenever the words Atlanta, Downtown, and either fire or fatality appeared in a bulletin. Because when they did, the odds were good that her boys would be coming home sore of body and heart, and full of need.

The need expressed itself differently in each of them. Sean needed to touch and be touched. Andy needed to be inside of her. NOW.

And so on the evenings when Lea was able to be at the apartment when they came home, she would wear a bathrobe with nothing on beneath. Sean would come and kiss Lea and caress her and hiss at her caresses, while Andy would unzip, flip up the back of her robe and, after rubbing his cock head against her labia a few times to make sure that her juices were flowing, thrust in, hard.

Sometimes they would fuck just like that — standing in the middle of the room. Sometimes they would end up in a pile on the floor: a Lea sandwich.

And once Andy had come, which, if it didn’t set her off, usually got Lea herself pretty fucking close, he would slide out and Sean would slide in, and all of their fear and sorrow and love would pour into her, and she would give them light. Respite. Surcease. Reassurance that they were alive and she was alive, and life was not all flame and tangled metal, but also joy and love and heavy doses of physical pleasure and all of the wonderful things that went with them.

She wouldn’t have admitted it, but Lea was relieved that Sean and Andy were gone at least two nights a week. In the first place, it gave her poor, lucky body a chance to recover — each of the boys had at least as much stamina and desire as even the most energetic of her former lovers, and between them, they made sure that her body was ravaged. Every night.

A body wasn’t really meant to take so much of that kind of pleasure. Not that Lea was ever going to complain.

The other reason that she didn’t mind their being gone (even as she missed them) was that it made their homecomings so amazing….

That particular Saturday, she actually saw them on the big flat-screen while she was finishing preparations for dinner. It was between a story about the dearth of striped bass in northern Georgia’s rivers and another on the debate about the fares for the new downtown streetcar (on which Lea’s boss Sassy had already bought an ad reading Desire, with a picture from the theater’s current production of the Williams classic).

The story, which lasted all of fifteen seconds, was about a six-car pile-up earlier that afternoon at the tangled cloverleaf that connected I-85 to Highway 10. The anchor reported blithely that the accident had been caused by a texting driver, and that Atlanta Fire and Rescue had transported four people to the hospital, where two were listed in critical condition, but that three people had died at the scene, including a two-year-old girl.

The video showed firefighters using the jaws of life to peel the roof off of one of the cars; it was crumpled like a beer can. As one of the firefighters reached through the hole, the one who had been handling the pneumatic cutter turned toward the camera. She’d have recognized that dimpled chin anywhere: Andy. The other firefight turned and shouted something. Square jaw. Eyes that were blue even through the face mask. Sean.

They looked grim.

They’d be headed home now — showered off, but still smelling of the ghosts of smoke and gasoline and adrenaline.

Pursing her lips, Lea picked up her phone and texted them: Just saw you on TV. The accident. Okay?

She’d expected a reply from Andy, because Sean usually drove them home. Instead, it was Sean who answered: No. Not really OK. Bad day at the office.

No kidding, thought Lea. It was always hard for the boys whenever they couldn’t save someone. But a little girl? She texted back: So sorry. ETA?

Traffic sucks, came the answer. Half hour?

I’ll be waiting, Lea answered. Can I take your minds off your troubles?

PLEASE.

Then, a few seconds later, Andy says fuck yes.

Well then, I will give you the heroes’ welcome you deserve.

A pause and then: Not heroes. Not today.

Yes you were. Yes you are. You are my heroes every day.

Sean didn’t respond to that.

Damnity-damn-damn, she thought.

Lea found herself looking around. Considering.

Lasagna in the oven. A salad for Lea and Sean ready in the fridge; green beans boiled to hell the way that Andy liked them warming on the stove. Three glasses of good rye whiskey on the counter.

But their hunger wouldn’t turn to their stomachs for a while.

She texted one last time: I promise, I will help make you feel much better. I have a surprise for you.

With a nod, Lea downed her shot — to give her courage — dropped her robe to the floor, and went to prepare.

When she saw the big SUV pull up in the parking lot, Lea — aided by a second healthy shot of rye — fought down rising panic and walked over to the table. “Please don’t break tonight,” she pleaded.

The sturdy if beaten-up oak table didn’t look concerned.

And so she took two of the sets of handcuffs that she’d had since her days with her power-game asshole ex John, but that she hadn’t yet used with Sean and Andy. Before she could have second — or eighteenth — thoughts, she spread her legs and locked her ankles to the legs of the table that were closest to the door. When she heard their muted voices coming down the walkway outside their apartment, she leaned across the table and bound each of her wrists with one of the other cuffs to the top of one of the far legs.

And she waited. Her naked ass pointed straight at the door, the bright purple butt plug that she’d inserted probably making her look like some very weird cyclops.

Too late to back down now, she thought. And then, Oh, fuck. I hope none of the neighbors is walking by when they open the door.

Their voices grew louder, though they still sounded less energetic than usual. They were talking about the Hawks. That was a good sign, at least.

The sound of the key turning in the door sent Lea’s heart up toward her tonsils. Oh, god. This is such a bad idea. What if they don’t want to? What if they DO?

But as she had already told herself, she was in no position to turn back now. Well. To turn front.

The door opened. Andy’s voice rolled out in a flat drawl, “Hey, Lea, we’re…”

Silence.

Lea heard two loud thunks. She hoped it was their duffles hitting the floor, that they hadn’t both passed out and left her chained to the table where she couldn’t do any of them any good. She was reassured when Sean gasped, “Holy fuck.”

Silence.

“Um, guys, I’m glad this rendered you speechless, but would you mind coming in and closing the door? You are both welcome to look as much as you want — and touch, and anything else that you’d like to do. But I’d rather not have my naked bottom on display for all of Cobb County to see.”

That broke the spell. The door slammed shut and suddenly her boys — her men — were around and against her. Sean, as she’d guessed, was leaning over the top of the table, kissing her, stroking her back, her arms, her neck.

Andy, to her surprise but to her great pleasure, knelt behind Lea and began to kiss the taut backs of her thighs, her butt cheeks, and finally, emphatically, her pussy, which was already moist with anticipation.

Lea groaned into Sean’s mouth, her body pulling against her restraints, even though the last thing she wanted was to disengage Andy’s wonderful lips, his lightning tongue, from her pussy.

And Sean’s fingers began to glide slowly down her sides, counting her exposed ribs before brushing feather-light along the sides of first one breast and then the other….

Her image of this whole encounter had been about getting them off — about clearing the angst and sorrow from their hearts and simply giving them pleasure. Instead, Lea found herself submerged — as she so often did — in her lovers’ very different rhythms, their very different approaches to pleasuring her.

And as Andy lapped at her, Sean’s hands found Lea’s nipples, revealed as she’d arched back under their ministrations. Everyone needs to feel this way, thought the small part of her brain that was at all clear. And then the typhoon of sensation blew out even that little bit of clarity, and all that Lea knew was that it felt good. And everyone else could find this feeling on their own.

Submerged as she was in the feeling, Lea forgot about the handcuffs. Forgot about the table. Forgot about the butt plug — except when Andy’s nose occasionally brushed it and it sent a different tremor of sensation rippling through her. As far as her body was concerned, she might have been on a bed of rose petals or…

Andy kissed his way up her butt cheeks, alternating left and right, and then licked up the length of her spine, and suddenly Lea was very aware of her restraints. She heard him unzip his jeans and had just enough time for the thought of him replacing the plastic plumb bob in her ass with that long erection of his — just enough time for the whole of her body to break into goose pimples — when he pushed into her pussy instead, and the typhoon swept her away again.

Lea was spread-eagle over the edge of the table, and as Andy began to fuck her, her pubic bone was pressed firmly against the wood, and so his downward-facing dick stroked along the front of her vagina even more firmly than usual. She screamed.

Sean’s lips pressed against Lea’s ear, and he murmured, “Too hard, baby?”

“No,” groaned Lea, “no, god, no.” And she screamed again.

“Huh,” chuckled Sean, finally releasing her nipples, which now bounced against the table top. “Then I think, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go down the other end and lend the two of y’all a hand.”

Andy continued to fuck her with everything he had — he was now holding onto the sides of the table so his thrusts didn’t push it and Lea away. It wasn’t surprising, then, that Lea forgot entirely about what Sean had said, until she felt two big hand push in from between Andy’s thighs. She could feel him let Andy’s balls slide over one even as the other found the hood of her clit and began to stroke it and squeeze it against Andy’s thrusting cock.

“Aw, shit!” Andy shouted, and Lea felt him push even deeper into her.

Neither of her boys had anything like a quick trigger; unlike some of her former boyfriends, Andy and Sean were both quite capable of fucking her until she turned to jelly. Not even jelly.

If either of them was more likely to be thrown by a surprise, however, it was Andy, as he was currently demonstrating. Evidently, having Sean grab his balls while Andy was plowing Lea was just enough to make Andy pop his cork, which he proceeded to do, pushing into her hard enough that, even though he was holding the table down, he moved them both a foot or two toward the sink. He bellowed, and a flood of his come spilled into and — quickly — out of her, around his shaft. “Aw… shit,” he repeated, panting into the back of Lea’s neck.