Chapter 14 – The Pull
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The shift started with a notification. A new group chat. Just the three of us. Elena, Milan, and me. No explanation. Just a name: “Ours.”
Her first message came seconds later.
Elena [Tuesday, 10:57] – Both of you. My place. Thursday night. I’ll be ready. You’ll follow.
I stared at the screen. According to the little ticks in the system, so did Milan. Then he replied.
Milan [10:59] – Yes.
And then me:
Jonas [11:00] – I’m yours.
We live together, Elena and I. But Thursday didn’t feel like my home. She spent the afternoon preparing. Lit candles. Changed the sheets. Wiped down every surface. She didn’t ask for help. Or speak much. She wasn’t angry. She was focused. In control.
Milan arrived just before sunset. She opened the door before he could knock, wearing only a black silk robe, loosely tied, nothing beneath. He kissed her softly. Then deeper.
I watched from the hallway, my body already aching. She turned toward me. “Bedroom. Now.” Not a request. She led, and we followed. The room was already warm, golden with candlelight. There were no words. Just the three of us standing around the bed. She stepped between us and untied the robe, let it fall to the ground. She was stunning. Bare. Confident.
Her nipples already hard. Her thighs slick with arousal. Her eyes alive with control. She touched Milan first with her hand down his chest, undoing his buttons slowly. Then turned to me. “Strip.” I obeyed. Milan did too. We stood naked in front of her. Cocks hard. Breath tight.
Her hands moved between us, stroking both shafts in turn. Comparing. Enjoying. She climbed onto the bed, laid back. Opened her legs. “Jonas. Mouth. Now.” I dropped to my knees at the edge and buried my face in her heat. She was soaked, and eager. I licked slowly, deliberately, tongue parting her folds, flicking her clit with practiced care.
She moaned, deep, guttural, and pulled my hair. “Yes. There. Don’t stop.” Her hips began to rock. Her thighs tensed. I licked deeper, firmer, her taste flooding my mouth. She gasped, twisted, cried out.
And then Milan was there. Kneeling beside her. His mouth met hers, claiming her moans as mine drove her higher. I felt her body jerk. Her thighs lock around my head. And then, a cry, sharp and shivering, her orgasm breaking against my lips.
She panted. She pulled me up by the neck. Kissed me, tasting herself on my mouth. Then turned to Milan. “Now you.”
He moved above her. Guided his cock slowly inside. She gasped. Taking him. I sat beside them on the bed, stunned by how raw it felt. How real. Milan began to thrust, deep and slow. She clutched his back. Her eyes wide. Then looked at me. “Touch yourself,” she whispered. “Show me how much you want this.” I did. My cock already wet with precum, aching. I stroked myself while watching her take every inch of him.
It built fast. The wet sound of her cunt taking him. The slap of skin. Her gasps. His grunts. My breath catching. She came again. Loudly, desperately crying out his name and mine in the same breath.
Milan pulled out. Glanced at me. Nodded once. I moved in. She spread for me. Still wet, still pulsing. I entered her slowly. She whimpered. Sensitive but open. I filled her, began to move. Her arms wrapped around me, nails scratched my back. “Yes,” she whispered. “You too. I want both.” She didn’t belong to one of us. She belonged to this. To the space between us. And we belonged to her.
When it ended, we collapsed together. Limbs tangled, sweat sticky. Hearts thudding. No words. Only breath. Only her hand holding mine… and Milan’s… together.
TO BE CONTINUED
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