"You mean she actually...likes that?" the one asks on your right.
"No man. She.
Loves
it," answers the other to your left.
...you glow, an alabaster lantern flickering equal parts daunting, rose-cheeked embarrassment and giddy, shiny-lipped arousal, unsure of whether or not you should be enjoying this to the degree you are. That two of your lovers are casually discussing how they've had their way with you, how they know how to please in a public place is a wholly new, exciting sensation.
How did this start?
You...should have maybe known where this was going, Isabel, when you got the text from Vahn Svarapahn one night while you were at home by yourself, half-heartedly watching Netflix and painting a watercolor of butterflies' wings: `what are you doing? yusuf and I are at the brass ring, come down!`
The paintbrush had drooled a few errant droplets of bright blue, landing traitorously out of place as you froze momentarily, grappling with that reality. On the one hand, you really liked Vahn Svarapahn, who this week was the long lost great-great-great-great grand nephew of the last Sipahi of Izmir and had succumbed to your (loving) pressure, enrolling in the last courses he'd need to finish the welding certification he'd started
If you had to pick out three traits of his you loved most, it would be his seemingly overflowing compassion for his fellow man, primarily - you'd never heard him say an unkind thing, and wondered if he'd simply broken ever mean-bone in his body on that skateboard of his. Secondly, for all his youthful energy and athleticism, he had a maturity that informed his compassion and empathy, an intense awareness of his environment and the people around him. Finally, well...
His bed creaks and rocks loudly as he thrusts into you passionately, your knees looped over his forearms and your thighs opened to him. The bareback, unrestrained, rough fucking from this young buck has you panting through smiling lips as you press a little silver bullet to your clit, your movements in concert with his own. You reach down, sliding his manhood free of your silken grasp, pressing the vibrator against the underside of his glans and causing him to spasm, as if stabbing the air with his cock - he even shoots a single rope of cum over your belly before you push his girth back inside of you, urging him to give in to orgasm and fill you with his white heat -
Thing is...Vahn wasn't your only lover. More of a (beloved!) side-piece, the thought of giving your sexual attention to more than one boy had once been kind of a degrading thought, best relegated to shy fantasy when you were a Mortal. Now that you'd left that behind and you were both far more and far less than you once were...your feelings on intimacy were just different. Everything was just a shade brighter and yet more ambiguous, your senses on a constant crescendo after Yusuf Mizrah had taken you from a dark ending to an endless dark...but it was one, at least, where you weren't alone.
It's easy to see how you found them both incredibly attractive, though in markedly different ways. Yusuf Mizrah had, only three nights ago, stood firm by his absolute, fanatical refusal to ignore a challenge or ever surrender. Unlike Vahn he
did
in fact have a
lot
of mean bones in his body, as well as fangs and teeth, muscles and knuckles and a violent streak that was perfectly natural. He'd shown you that at The Pit, when you'd gone to have another...talk with Annie - that, of course, being a story for later.
What was there to say about Yusuf? As a man, he was an incredibly skilled and talented musician; you wondered if you'd ever get used to his sheer dominance on the stage. As a Hunter, he was an unstoppable force of nature and the source of immense amounts of property damage. As pertained to his personal relationship with you, however...
"Tell me you want it, and I'll give it to you like I said," he purrs to you in that voice that absolutely lights your fire, specially tuned (so he'd told you) to arouse you down to the sub-frequency. Your fingers dig into the material of the countertop in his apartment, his pierced glans mercilessly frotting your clit, slicking it with his precum. You want him in you, and you hold your plump, hot lips apart with your fingers as you work to take his girth into you - oh god he's wound you up so much, you're on the edge ALREADY -
More than a side-piece, he was your Man and you were waking up at his side six of the seven days of the week.
Now, that part of you which has identified as a good, orderly Orthodox Christian girl who'd sworn she wouldn't have sex before marriage, was quite dead. She'd been torn apart in the chaotic tornado of your own internal and external Change under the full moon, replaced with something primal and free from the ridiculousness of social expectation but echoes of her still flitted through your mind -
shameful, hanging out casually with two men you've had sex with?! Where is your modesty?!
And not just any sex but...you've sucked their cocks, slurped hungrily at their testicles, you've let them both please you orally from the depths of your vagina to your shining bead, and
both
of them fuck you without condoms...one day you had sex with the two of them - on Mizrah's birthday no less, and so you'd even told him. Curiously neither seemed to mind, and you'd caught them amicably chatting and playing arcade games together, arm wrestling (which Vahn always lost) or even playing soccer (which Yusuf always lost), but this was...you hadn't even read about something like this before. You'd dressed to impress tonight, and they were both touching you under the table - you'd had your share of threesomes with Yusuf before, but something about this was different...maybe because you were here, amongst the mortals, these two were openly discussing how they drive you mad with pleasure and even
exchanging strategies
.
