LISA
This is so good I don’t think I ever want to get up. I’m warm and cozy, wedged between
two guys I’d never have pegged as snugglers, but they are indeed the type. Guess this
world is full of happy surprises and I’m definitely feeling a hell of a lot better. My watch
tells me I’ve slept about eleven hours, and if it wasn’t for my bladder I’d be happy to
snooze the rest of this day away.
Jimmy’s head is against my shoulder, and I can see how dark his eyelashes are now
that he’s asleep. God he’s gorgeous. One of his arms is draped over my stomach, lying
heavily there as if to pin me down, and the other is under my pillow behind my head. He
does snore, very, very softly.
Greg’s on his side towards me, face burrowed down along the side of my chest. One of
his arms is resting along my hip, limp in that bonelessness of deep sleep. The other is
coiled up under his head and his curls is sticking up all over the place. He’s adorable,
but you’d have to torture me to get me to SAY it outloud.
I wish I had a camera.
Regretfully, carefully, I begin to carefully disengage myself from the pile. I roll over and
back off the end of the bed, trying to keep my nightgown from snagging on anyone’s
toes. The sheet works free; I manage to slide out at the bottom and totter off to the
bathroom for relief.
I look in the mirror at myself and even though it’s insane, I grin. The red nightgown’s
always been my favorite. Since my totebag’s on the counter I pull out my toothbrush
and mouthwash, cleaning up a bit, washing last night’s makeup off. I feel better and at
the same time a little scared. I look in the case again and find my Ortho Novum, pop
this morning’s pill and take a deep breath, ready to . . . hell, I have no idea what to do. I
slink out, peering back into the bedroom.
They haven’t moved. This is good, so I just reverse my steps and slide back into bed,
burying my face in the pillow, huddling down and letting the warmth seep in again. A
hand moves along my back, and I stiffen a little, trying to figure out which man it is.
Greg. He leans closer and I can feel his breath against my ear, warm and soft. “Good
morning Doctor Cuddy. You’re not wearing panties.”
“Neither are you, Doctor House—unless you broke into my suitcase,” I whisper back,
turning my head to face him. God his eyes are an amazing shade of blue, halfway
between cornflower and summer sky, and that hand of his is slipping right into the
hollow of my lower back, rubbing just right. I’m going to get kissed; I can FEEL the pull
of him.
“I’m a boxer guy myself,” he smirks softly, and leans in, just like I knew he would. It’s a
sultry little kiss, a tease as much as anything, but with some bite to it too. Greg tastes
clean and soft and masculine; I want more. I kiss him again, this time stroking his lips
with my tongue, closing my eyes all the better to savor his flare of passion.
Oh yeah he wants me—I knew it.
And I’m getting it. I mean, really getting it. Oh God . . . hot wet deep kisses that are
making me forget how to BREATHE, let alone focus on anything other than the way
he’s making my body feel.
I’m in a serious freak zone now. In bed with Greg House, kissing and being kissed with
a hell of a lot more passion than I’d ever suspected in him.
OR me.
I can’t stop wriggling, clutching him, oh God who the HELL knew House could DO this?
He’s got me half-pinned, working his tongue against mine and I can feel myself growling
into his mouth, just going with the sweet raw power of the man, It’s gone, all the rational common sense I ever had, dissolved by the wet, intense tongue-fucking my mouth is
getting here. Bristle burn—I don’t care.
“OhhhhhGod—“ Jimmy’s voice breaks us apart for a moment; Greg looks both annoyed
and amused. I have NO idea how I look at the moment, but I’m sure it’s NOT my best.
I’m tingling everywhere, suddenly more aware of my entire body than I have been in
years. Swiftly I turn to look at Jimmy and another wave of ‘WANT’ rolls through me when
I see him in all his big-eyed wonder, staring at us. His hair is mussed up, and I see the
faint dark shadow of stubble on his cheeks and chin; enough to be sexy as hell.
I reach for him, hooking an arm around his neck, pulling his face closer. I kiss him. Soft, soft—Jimmy’s mouth is SO tender, and the sweet scent of his skin turns me on even
more. Dimly I’m aware that Greg’s shifting, and as I keep kissing Jimmy, I feel hands
moving, tugging my nightgown up until my breasts are uncovered.
I laugh. God, this sweet tandem is amazing. Greg brushes his face over my nipples and
the heat of his breath is making them perk even harder. Jimmy’s tongue is teasing mine
and the slow coiling tension torquing through my body just keeps ratcheting up with
every touch, every kiss . . . Oh God, I’m going to come just from THIS . . .
JIMMY
I usually wake up hard. When I’m married sometimes I even get some in the morning,
but damn it, I have NEVER gone from zero to sixty quite like this before. It’s . . .
amazing. Unbelievable. In a glorious throbbing moment; wonderful. Kissing Lisa is
delicious, and having her moan her orgasm deep into my mouth just about does me in, control-wise. If I hadn’t gotten a grip on myself, literally, I would be coming all over the
place right now.
She writhes, all that pretty hair spilling over the pillows and I pull away for a minute to
let her breathe, aware of Greg leaning over her chest, teasing it in slow delight. He
glances at me, and it’s weird, but I know exactly what he’s thinking, feeling.
Ours.
I slide my hand away from myself and up Lisa’s thighs, sensing her eagerly opening
them to me. Greg’s moving up, lying on his side, wetly kissing the sweet slope of her
breasts and neck.
I touch.
Soft damp curls, a tight little feminine thicket of glossy brown under my fingers. God, I
want it! Somewhere deep inside me rises this sheer burning lust, drowning out whatever civilized behavior I’m supposed to have. I want Lisa. I always have, and her beautiful
pussy, this secret bed of sexy fluff under my fingers is driving me mad. I dance my
fingers through the softness, teasing, stroking, touching lightly. She wriggles, moving
against my hand, a clear invitation to continue.
Never let it be said I can’t take a hint.
Shifting down a bit, I move until Lisa languidly lifts one knee over my shoulder and
suddenly I’m looking at quite possibly the most gorgeous valley I’ve seen in a while.
Greg sneaks a peek too, but I’m too damned delighted to fret about it as I gently brush
the curls apart to reveal the pink sweetness I’ve always suspected and long fantasized
about. The gentle scent of her body entices me, and I rub my nose along the cleft,
making her squeak. Greg laughs, a low rumbling sound muffled against her skin.
“Rise and shine . . . “
Lisa only gives a soft moan in reply; it’s a low hungry sexy sound and I’m throbbing as I
decide now or never. I glide my tongue out, over the sweet essence of her and waves of
pleasure roll all the way down my sweaty spine, making my pajamas suddenly too
damned confining and damp. I take my time tasting her, moving into the cradle of her
thighs, oh God I’d forgotten how perfect this is.
Women taste good; Lisa is a divine feast, succulent and hot. My hands slide up to hold
her thighs apart, to stroke the satin skin and baby curls along these delicate folds. I
nuzzle, I kiss, I lick, and every caress reverberates back to me, building just as much
pleasure in me as it does her. I won’t last, not with the friction against my dick and the
flavors on my tongue but at this point I don’t care. Better to drink here; to feel Lisa come against my mouth again than burn in loneliness any day.
I can feel her thighs tense and her back arch a little; that slow sweet cry rises out of her
again and I stay gentle, suckling softly, fighting back a wave of male pride as she
helplessly crests around me.
I smile against her inner thigh, pulling back, brushing my cheek there blissfully. Yes I
need her--very badly now in fact--but I can take a moment to watch her go limp in her afterglow. Greg lifts his head from her cheek; I can see the muscles of his jaw
tightening and I aware that he’s having almost as much trouble with self-control as I am.
“You want him? “ he whispers hoarsely to Lisa and I realize he’s referring to me. She
groans and her hands reach for me, tugging my pajama top. God! Yes---I scramble up,
pulling at the damned drawstring, pushing the bottoms away as I slide up onto her
stomach, heat to heat, belly to belly the kiss of damp skin a glorious thing.
Lisa’s legs wrap around me as I probe, push eagerly into her and slick silky lips part as I
drive my dick forward. Oh God there are no words, no thoughts as the hot, hot flower of
her pussy takes me in, meeting need with need and I rise, bucking my hips into hers,
alive and slick and so full of fucking DESIRE for her that I’m only seconds from coming
deep, deep in that warm tight glorious clench. I thrust, hard.
“Oh DAMN it, Lisa---“ is all I can choke out as the hot electric joy of coming flares from
my balls straight up my spine, each gush a new wave of searing bliss, throbbing
pleasure, thrilling my body.
She blindly seeks my mouth, kisses me as I lie on her, breathless and spent, my frame shuddering in aftershocks of pleasure. Her breast is under my ear, her heartbeat strong;
I feel like a wave that’s broken, leaving foamy lace and serenity across the landscape of
Lisa’s body.
GREG
Holy fuck.
In my lifetime I’ve done bad things, conjured up some pretty wild fantasies, some stuff
that even I’m not always comfortable remembering in the light of day, but I can safely
say that here and now, participatory voyeurism now tops my list.
Ohhhhh yeah.
Jimmy and Cuddles are right under my nose, and the erotic aftermath of their rampant screwing is rolling off them in fragrant waves. Me, I could probably punch through steel
plating with the boner I’ve got at the moment. I drop my face back down to the soft little
throat I’ve been licking, and under my tickling tongue Luscious Lisa giggles.
“You,” she intones in a voice husky with sex. Jimmy reluctantly rolls off of her, dropping
on the other side of the mattress with a happy groan as Cuddles turns to me. I feel her
hands along my chest, seeking out my heartbeat, her eyes like smoky twilight. She licks
her lips and I can’t TAKE it, not after sucking her tits, biting her neck, God damn it,
WANTING her so much---
“Dying here—“ I rasp out, and she’s good. She slides on her side, nuzzling down my
chest, ohhh yeah, oh yeah . . . Gently Cuddles helps me get my boxers down and it’s a wonder I don’t poke her eye out. Then she wraps those long elegant fingers around
me—just tight enough to hold the inevitable back and I realize she’s going to . . .
Ohhhhhh . . . yeah, yeah, that’s just what THIS doctor ordered. The slow tickle of her
hair along my stomach is in the way and I grip it lightly, brush it aside to enjoy the show.
Damn this tongue bath feels perfect; slick and wet and noisy. I’m aching, going out of
my mind because I want to come and I want to keep going as long as I can.
Oh shit Cuddles is good. Sweet, slow, seductive. I mean she’s really, REALLY good.
And then she hums.
I feel my nuts tighten, the familiar surge right behind them that means I’m about to give
it up. I growl, my hands tightening in that thick wild hair of hers as I try to get the words
out first. “C-c-c-gaahhhhh!”
Okay, not the most insightful thing I’ve ever vocalized but Jesus H. Christ! I’m lost,
gushing like a broken fire hydrant while the chief administrator of my hospital lovingly
swallows my load, her pretty throat flexing with each spasm of my wayward cock.
I’m out. I know this because the next thing I remember is feeling Luscious Lisa stretched
out on me calling my name. Or maybe calling me names—I’m a little hazy on the actual wordage what with being massively sated and blissed out. I can’t even feel my leg,
which is pretty damned miraculous itself.
“Greg?”
“Ummmmnnnngh.”
So eloquent here. I blearily open my eyes, wrap my arms around her tightly. Cuddles
relaxes and kisses my chin. She’s beautiful. When this woman gets laid she is SO
beautiful; wild, wild curls everywhere and I’m never going to live down that damned
smirk on her face. I squeeze her because I can.
The feel of her in my arms, the weight of her on my chest puts a timeless stamp on this moment and when I kiss her I taste semen and tears.
Both mine.
*** *** ***
The post-fuck sleep is a marvelous phenomenon of nature; the only time men are utterly
dead to the world. No drug comes close to it, no chemicals other than hormones can
create it. Give me an after-laid nap and I swear to God I could hike the K2 without a
hitch.
Added to this one is the neat fact that I’m warm via another person for the first time in
ages. Electric blankets be damned, gimme a radiator woman every time. Cuddles fits
the bill just fine. She’s got her cute ass up against me and I’m curled around her once
more, perfectly happy to cling to whatever I can hang onto.
I slowly rise back to consciousness, aware that a few hours have passed. I can hear
Jimmy snoring lightly, and the soft sounds of traffic and ocean waves far, far off. I’m in
that lovely gray zone; not awake, not asleep, just drifting, and going with the flow.
Then my stomach growls. Loudly and embarrassingly.
“My God, is there a mountain lion around here?” Jimmy politely demands from the other
side of Cuddles. She’s shaking with laughter, her face buried in a pillow and I give a
sigh.
“Sorry, that was my protein depletion meter going off. Seems I’m going to have to build
the reserves back up with some Room Service. You DID bring your platinum American Express, didn’t you Jimmy?”
LISA
Room service.
I think I just had a nice double helping of that. I have my face buried in a pillow, and I’m
not sure I want to get up, not after the things I’ve done and felt in these last few hours.
I’m here, I’m there; all over the map with every emotion I can think of and several I can’t
really name at all: happiness, fear, satisfaction, humiliation, defiance, all glazed over
with a glow of awed delight.
I cannot believe we did it. All of us. All THREE of us, and it was only a thousand times
hotter than anything my poor imagination ever came up with. I mean I’ve had my
fantasies, yes, but who KNEW?
Jimmy. Greg. ME. I’ve kissed them, touched them, oh GOD I’m turning myself on all
over again just going back over the MEMORIES---
A hand slides over my butt and I stiffen, but it’s Jimmy, gently tugging my nightgown
down to cover me up. On the other side of me Greg snorts.
“So, anyone else in the mood for cling peaches with our waffles?”
“With cream?”
Did I just say that? Jimmy laughs softly, and Greg shifts, struggling to get up. I look
over at his back, his slightly hunched shoulders, and something in my chest hurts as I
watch him unsteadily push himself to a sitting position.
Something I do for granted. Something he’ll never do without effort for the rest of his life,
damn it. Before I can say anything Greg’s fishing in the nightstand drawer for the
tasseled Room Service menu. He turns and hands it to me with a bristly grin.
“They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“It’s nearly eleven thirty,” Jimmy tells us; I turn to see him on his back, arms behind his
head. I love that he’s so modest he’s actually pulled his pajama bottoms up again. He
has gorgeous feet, and on impulse I scoot down, capturing one in my hands, touching
the handsome metatarsals and arch. Jimmy chuffs a little. “Lisa, I’m ticklish.”
“Oh I’d say you’re a lot more than THAT,” Greg mutters. I ignore both of them and toy
with Jimmy’s toes a little. So pale, but strong. He has very good looking feet, for a man.
“I want some honeydew slices and coffee and whole wheat toast with grape jelly,” I
mutter, “and orange juice.”
“Okay,” Jimmy agrees sweetly, reaching for the phone. “Greg?”
“Waffles and bacon, which I am going to eat off of Cuddles’ naked body,” he leers. I
shoot a look over my shoulder at him; he’s dry swallowing his morning dose. God I feel
guilty, but the same hand that cupped the pills slides over and up the back of my leg,
warm and strong. Jimmy laughs.
“So we’re all considering breakfast in bed?”
“I know I am—any objections?” Greg comments. I shake my head and roll over, staring
up at the ceiling. An awkward little pause fills the room; we’re all not looking at each
other, and I feel a panic in my chest because I don’t want it to slip away, not this warm connection tying me to them: Jimmy with his soulful eyes and Greg with his hungry
hands.
I sit up and climb over Jimmy’s supine body, letting him feel my weight. I cup his face in
my hands and kiss him, firmly. Sure we both have morning breath and unbrushed hair
and for once in my life I don’t give a damn. He kisses me back, his lips smiling against
mine.
“Good morning,” I whisper. “YOU are an amazing lover, Jimmy.”
It works; he gives a huge sigh and lets his shoulders relax as he blushes a little. “I had a
lot of . . . motivation. Lisa—“
I know Greg’s watching us; I shake my head and kiss Jimmy’s nose. “Shhhh. We all feel
it. We’ll talk—but later, okay?”
He nods. I shift and drape myself across Greg, who has his back up against the
headboard; gently he runs his hand down from my throat to my stomach, gliding over
the nightgown gently. I smile up at him and for once it’s nice to see him looking almost
happy.
Almost.
“You,” I tell him gently, “May eat anything you want off of me, Greg House.” I carefully
guide his hand to cup one of my breasts and automatically his thumb flicks the nipple.
“As long as you lick the plate clean.”
I hear Jimmy groan, and suddenly it flares again, that skin-tingling intensity between the
three of us, that shivery awareness that we’re all going to be losing our clothes and
inhibitions very, very quickly again.
Jimmy sets the phone down. “Brunch. We’ll get brunch in about an hour---“
Greg and I nod.
