Full of Surprises - One

“Close your eyes.”

I don’t need to see to know what he’s doing - the front door lock clicks, slides softly open.  His dress shoes tap on the hardwood floor.  The key ring clinks in the little dish on the sideboard.  I don’t need to see to follow.  My heels clack as I move slowly forward.  His hand is warm, thick and steady in mine, same as always.

There’s no light through my eyelids, so it’s dark or nearly so in the penthouse tonight.  The faint smell of something incredible grows stronger as we walk: vanilla, musk, warmth.  I hope he hasn’t left a candle burning this whole time.  The floor beneath my step changes to carpet, back to wood; a left turn and it’s carpet again.  I smile because I know he’s lead me straight to the bedroom - same as always.  

“Keep your eyes closed.”

He faces me, puts his hands on my upper arms.  I know the view from this room is spectacular - the lights of the low-slung city across the river.  Few true skyscrapers live around here.  It will be sparkling tonight in the early autumn clarity.

“Happy birthday,” he says, face closer now and voice quieter.

“Thanks baby.”  I’m smiling.

“You know that thing I wanted for my birthday?”  His words brush across the skin below my ear, followed by a gentle press of his full mouth.

“Yes.”  I know exactly the thing he’s been dreaming of.  “But your birthday isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Remember how I said I thought you might like it too?”

I sigh a little more heavily than I mean to. “MIike, if you brought another girl here to be my birthday present....”

“No,” he quickly corrects, breathing goosebumps against my neck.  “Your birthday present is something that you want.”

The creak of floorboards comes a moment too late to warn me; a second pair of hands are already sliding across the back of my thin silk dress and settling possessively onto my hips.  Mike holds me in place by the arms as I gasp and startle.

“Shhhhhhhh,” he whispers, moving a hand into my hair and pulling it forward, baring my right shoulder to the neck.  A second pair of soft lips quickly graze the exposed skin.

My eyes are open now, Mike steps back and looks right at me.  This other man is rubbing gentle circles at my hips, the slinky fabric of my dress rustling.  He opens his mouth and runs a firm, deep kiss up into the curve of my neck.  Without the hint of aggression, both men are holding me very firmly in place.

Mike’s dark eyes are black in the dim room.  A lamp in the corner is on very low and several candles are scattered across the dressers and bookcases behind him.  There’s a hint of hesitation in his gaze.

“I see the way you look at him,” he says softly.  

Instantly I know whose kiss is massaging the top of my back, whose thick fingers are slowly working the hem of my dress up into fistfuls of silk.  He’s the right size, the right shape.  But I can’t believe it.  I turn my head, the only part of me still in my control, and it breaks his lock on my skin.  He lifts his perfect, innocent face right to mine.

“Nicky,” I say as if we need to be introduced.  

I can’t help the way I look at Nicky, and I gave up trying long ago. He’s Mike’s perfect opposite - light instead of dark, quiet instead of loud, steady instead of changing.  Mike’s hot and he knows it.  Nicky’s incredibly fucking sexy and honestly has no idea.  More often than I should admit, I’ve wondered if he’s somehow just as good as Mike is in bed.

Nicky’s eyes are an impossible color, different every day.  But the clear, smooth skin of his round cheeks and the perfect curve of his chin are unmistakable.  That short blond hair is soft tonight, no gel like he’s trying to keep it under control.  Control is obviously out the window.

I expect him to blush or smile, always so shy.  But he just sucks his lower lip into his mouth, tasting my skin, and shrugs.  I don’t think Nicky needed to be asked twice - maybe he and Mike aren’t so different after all.

Mike gently turns my face to front, keeps his hand on my cheek.  This time he looks sure of himself.

“Happy birthday,” he repeats, lifting my mouth to his.

His kiss is so familiar: the pouty lips, constant scruff.  By contrast Nicky’s skin is smooth, his lips thinner as they slide past center and work their way toward my far shoulder.  He presses his body to my back, a wall of solid Swedish muscle, and uses his grip on my hips to rub his lap against my ass.  I gasp right into Mike’s kiss, Nicky’s growing need making itself known against the flimsy slip of my outfit.

“I knew you’d want him,” Mike says so quietly, with Nicky so busy, that I think it’s just for me to hear.  Nicky draws the dress up over my ass, revealing my thong, and slides his hands onto the bare flesh.  Mike shifts his weight to one leg and holds me against his rock hard thigh.  A flick of his hip rolls him right across my clit, Nicky helping with the pressure from behind.  I gasp again.  Mike just chuckles and steps back.

I could fall forward with him, but Nicky’s famously quick hands are across my stomach, under my dress.  With his thumbs at my sides, his long fingers easily overlap in the middle as if promising how far they can go.  A second later, the left slips into the cleft in my legs.  I whimper and buck against him.  His right hand slides up over my breast, holding me upright, as his fingertip runs the length of my entrance, tugging lace, soaking us both.  His other hand kneads my breast roughly.

Mike sits on the edge of the king size bed, his eyes hooded.  This is as much for him as it is for me.  And as Nicky hooks away the useless thread of my panties and hits exactly the right spot on the first touch, I know Mike has told him a lot of things.

It makes sense now, as Nicky goes skin-on-swollen-skin down the quivering lips of my pussy.  Mike is self-conscious.  He thinks no one knows.  I think he shows the world every day by trying so hard to cover it up.  The only one other person with whom Mike would ever share the exacting specifications of his insecurities is the same only person he’d ever grant access to his prize: Nicky.  

He teases me with one fingertip, probing slowly so I feel each delicious millimeter of being spread apart for him.  When he finally reaches the softest, wettest part of me I can’t do anything but moan.  Nicky keeps going, pressing that long finger as deep as it can go.  He breathes heavily against my neck as he starts to pump.  

His huge arm is immovable across my chest and good thing, because I cannot keep my feet.  Like he’s tuning a guitar, Nicky tests every rhythm and combination in quick succession until he finds the one he wants.  Then another finger forces in next to the first and I moan all over again.  Every upward stroke is like another turn of a screw, and I’m about to collapse.  The force of him fingering me rides the crack of my ass firmly along his huge erection.

“Oh God.”

I think I’m going to die.  I catch sight of Mike, but his eyes are fixed on his best friend’s huge hands violating his girlfriend’s pussy.  The rug comes and goes beneath my toes.  Nicky groans at the unintentional lap dance I’m giving him.  He moves his thumb to my clit and works in unison as I fight the urge to beg.

I want him to fuck me.  I want him to throw me facedown on this bed and fuck me as hard with his cock as he is with his fingers.  Then harder, and again, and all goddamned night.  I want to scream his name loader than any goal I’ve ever cheered but the weight of his chest and the thrust of his massive thighs will have me flattened so that it’s a whisper only he can hear.

But they both hear it, and probably most of the DC metro area, when Nicky leans his shoulders over me, twists his hand forward and drives those fingers right into my hot spot.  I cry out - half moan, have scream - and grind against him.  Nicky keeps stroking, hitting the spot again and again like it’s an elevator that won’t come.  Finally the bell rings, the doors open and there I am, crumpled on the floor.

Nicky gingerly pulls his hand from my body, then lazily circles my clit with those same two fingers.  He guides me to the bed.  Mike slides up and away from us, watching as Nicky drapes me out on my back and arranges himself alongside me.  He lays on his side, head supported on one massive arm, and trails his fingers across my stomach while looking down at me.  I sigh and open my eyes.

“That was....”

Nicky puts his mouth to mine, cutting off my words.  After what just happened I am surprised by his kiss - our first - and the eagerness he doesn’t try to hide.  His soft tongue sweeps across mine hungrily and we kiss for a long time.  It’s so different from Mike, and I don’t even remember what it’s like to kiss someone else.  Only now that I know one person so well do I see how much there is to learn.  I roll toward him and start to pull up his t-shirt.  Nicky sits up and pulls it off all at once.

My eyes roll right back into my head.  Behind me, Mike snickers.  We’ve been swimming or on vacation together enough times for me to know exactly how good Nicky looks shirtless.  But it’s different when you know all that skin and muscle are about to own you, and you can lick them anytime you want.  I can taste him already on my tongue - fresh milk and sunshine.  I slowly run one palm flat over his chest and down to the hard flat plane of his abs.  He watches my touch like he’s surprised to find I want to touch him.

“You’re so beautiful,” I say so they can both hear.

“So are you,” he covers my hand and guides it right where it was going anyway.. over the zipper on his pants.

The bulge is even bigger than it felt from behind. A firm press down the length makes Nicky groan deeply.  Behind me, Mike curses under his breath and I hear his own zipper opening.  I slide lower, put my thumbs on the button of his jeans and my fingers on his pale stomach, then move them only to kiss along the sensitive skin at his waistband. I pop the button and let my mouth follow the trail of soft blond hair from his navel into the top of his pants.  Nicky shifts till he’s flat on his back and I waste no time straddling his legs.  Every inch that zipper opens is a new spot for my mouth to explore.  I press my face right to the throbbing heft of his erection and he groans.

He lifts his hips and I tug off his jeans.  The boxer briefs come down slowly, peeled back carefully to reveal this most perfect part of this perfect guy.  His long, thick cock stands straight out, straining for me.

I want to ride him.  I want to climb on top of him and go for the fucking finish line right there.  A flick of those hips and a push from that ass, I would be moaning again in seconds.  But I don’t think Nicky’s here to race anyone.

Mike’s out of his pants and t-shirt, hand in his shorts gripping what I know to be very impressive in its own right.  I look up at him from around his best friend’s raging hard-on.

“Can I?” I ask, so no matter the answer Nicky will know that I wanted to.

Mike nods.  “I want to see you.”
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