I can’t share all of this… because it’s something I wrote for something else… but with a name change, I thought I could share the good bits… because the bits? They are good… or at least I think so… It’s part of a breeding threesome I wrote… part of a belle epoch novella that didn’t really go anywhere… 1880’s Germany… Three travelers lost in a winter storm after a party. They take refuge in a peasants hut.
Kurt reached to touch her then pulled his hands back. “I shouldn’t.” His words almost sounded as if he was in pain. “I am not-”
Gottfried reached over and took Kurt’s hand, guiding it to Alexandra ‘s back. “You are the most worthy man I know. Help me warm our wife.”
That hand was so warm. It burned her skin and she sucked in a breath. Then his chest was against her back. Those hard, rippling planes of skin pressing her. Kurt’s huge hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against him. Ever so quietly, he spoke, “I won’t hurt you. Don’t be scared.” He held her back against him, then pulled his coat and another blanket over them.
“I am not afraid of you, Kurt.”
Gottfried pulled his head away from her neck and smiled at her. “That’s our girl.” Then he took her lips with his and kissed her deeply.
It was like being between two infernos. Their colognes mixed and the scent of them was a heady combination with the smell of the leather overcoats and the woodsmoke.
Gottfried’s lips were hard on hers. Insistent and demanding. Behind her, she could hear Kurt breathing heavily, his arms tight around her midsection. Alexandra ‘s feet curled and brushed against the smooth leather of Kurt’s boots. She couldn’t help but slide her feet along them.
Then Kurt’s nose ran along the back of Alexandra ‘s neck and she gasped. Gottfried took the opportunity and his tongue rolled to touch hers. He tasted of cognac. His tongue explored her, gentle but insistent while his hands cupped her face. Kurt’s nose turned to lips and he began to kiss the back of her neck. Soon he found the spot which had her arching and writhing but his arms held her fast.
Alexandra moaned against Gottfried’s lips, overwhelmed by the sensations overtaking her. Her eyes closed tight, and the world spun. It was the drink- no. It was the overwhelming power of what was happening. Her heart was suddenly beating like an animal in her chest. She could feel the pounding as if it would shake her apart. Her one hand flattened, sliding up the smoothness of Gottfried’s chest to clutch onto his shoulder. The other slipped from his grasp to reach behind. Her fingers dug into the cloth covered form of Kurt’s hip. When she touched him, he froze and made a noise like a growl in his throat. It was so like a hound, she might have believed he had become some mixture of man and beast.
Gottfried was moving now. Down. His mouth and hands seemed everywhere. On her shoulders. On her neck. On her chests. Moving down to her corset. Tracing the stays down her body. “Our glorious princess,” he rasped. Then he pressed his face to the tops of her breasts.
Kurt let her go and moved, his fingers plucking at her laces until her corset expanded. Then those huge paws came around her body and opened the hooks with the ease of much experience. Kurt gave her a little tug, pulling her down onto her back. He propped himself on one elbow and brought the other up to trace her cheek. Then her lips. His calloused hands touched all of her face, his eyes closed to bare slits. Back to her lips. When she kissed his fingertip, his fierce green eyes flew open with surprise. A slow grin worked its way across his face. Male and somewhat satisfied. His finger went back and forth across her lower lip, slowly pushing her mouth open. He didn’t kiss her with his mouth but his finger was pushing its ways between her teeth. She sucked the digit against her tongue and his eyes rolled back into his head.
Her husband reached up to pull down her chemise. His lips moved across her breasts, moistening the fabric as he went. He flicked her nipple through the fabric and then it was Alexandra ‘s turn to moan. He knew her body so well. How to arouse her. How to make her ready for him. She ached for his touch. Her hand twined in his hair. Then the cloth was being torn away and he was kneading at her flesh and suckling upon her.
Alexandra ‘s other hand was traveling along Kurt’s torso. She didn’t think men really looked like statues. The ridges of muscle, clenching and unclenching under her fingertips. Unlike Gottfried, who had no hair on his torso, Kurt had a spray of wiry white hair across his chest. Gottfried had that terrible mat of scar tissue over his shoulder, but Kurt’s scars were a tracery of puckers and creases all over. Most were old and white, but a few were pinkish and one was a livid red line. When had that happened? Her fingers went across it and his eyes dropped to the place. “I was distracted.”
His finger was still in her mouth, so instead of speaking, she sucked on it hard. Running her tongue along it, she was rewarded when his face turned almost hawkish and intense. She pulled her head back when he pulled the finger from her mouth, she kissed his palm. “My poor, dear Sir Kurt!”
Kurt leaned forward. “Feel sorry for him. He is in the ground.”
It should have chilled her, but it didn’t. “I am glad,” she whispered before arched her back from Gottfried’s insistent ministrations.
“Kurt, I do believe I need your assistance. There are two luscious nipples here and I cannot do justice to them both. Assistance for a flanking maneuver?”
They were both there. One to a side. Gottfried’s hand moving up to hold her still by her throat, something only he could do without frightening her. Kurt’s hand was holding down her shoulder and his legs were over hers. She couldn’t move, no matter how she twisted. Her moans filled the little cottage.
“Oh God! Please!” She panted, desperate to find purchase in a world of pleasure. Their hands were literally everywhere. One touched her while another held her still and then back again. The men seemed to take delight in the frantic flailing of her hands.
The scent of cognac assailed her a moment before the decanter was tipped over her. She didn’t know which of them did it. The men moved as one on her poor body. But the sound of them licking and slurping it off her flesh drove her mad. Her hands made fists in their hair, ginger and silver; Kurt’s shorter and Gottfried’s longer. The hair was her only anchor in a world of spiraling feeling.
Hands. Lower and lower. Pushing her legs open. She wanted to stop. Alexandra tried to focus on the ceiling. “No! It’s unseemly! We shouldn’t!” But they didn’t stop. Cold metal on her skin, then her knickers seemed to be gone. No tugging. No removal. They were simply gone as if they hadn’t existed. She reached down to push them away and hands took hers. Her hands were at her sides; held down as if with steel.
Gottfried’s face, above her as fingers traced over her most intimate spaces. “Lexa, tonight doesn’t exist. Nothing is unseemly. Just two men who love you and who will always love you.”
He took her mouth as another mouth touched her somewhere far more intimate. “No buts. Colonel’s orders. You must obey me.” Things were happening to her that she had no control over. Gottfried’s eyes burned into her. Those strange, demon eyes that so many feared.
And that other mouth was doing things that Gottfried had never done before. Things that certainly weren’t proper and going places no one should go. “Gottfried! He’s-”
He cut her off. “Shush, Alexandra .” He kissed her as he never had before. His mouth owned hers and captured every moan and gasp that came from hers. His hands were on her face, her shoulders, her throat, her breasts then in her hair, tearing out the pins which held up her coiffure.
When Kurt’s fingertips penetrated her, touching her so deeply, she thought she would die. She didn’t think that was possible to feel so much at once. Her nails dug into Gottfried’s tunic, the other into his scalp, clawing for purchase as cat-like howls came from her throat. Higher and higher they took her, working her for their pleasure and for hers. It was like she was the instrument they had chosen to play and her cries were simply their reward for work well done. It was impersonal and yet the most personal thing she had ever experienced.
The explosion came with a scream unlike she had ever made before. It was inconceivable that she could feel so much in one moment. Perhaps this was the little death the French wrote about. It was terrible and wonderful. Her hands shook, her nails almost bent double. What she felt first of reality was the stubble of Gottfried’s hair under her fingers. She tried to relax those claws on the end of her arms.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl!” Gottfried whispered looking at her, almost looking through her. “I want you!”
Then Kurt was there, behind her, pulling her onto him, her back to his chest. “Let me hold her for you, Gottfried.” She was lifted against that iron skin as if she weighed nothing. Kurt pulled her face against his and his knees seemed to spread her legs open almost obscenely. His skin seemed so tanned against her own. She was so highly aware of the hardness pressing against the cleft of her buttocks. Straining and so hot against his breeches.
Gottfried reared up on his knees and shrugged off his tunic. Kurt’s coat, which had half covered him, slid off in a creak of leather. As he looked down at them, Alexandra could see a sheen of sweat break out across his brow. He reached up and pulled his braces off his shoulders. Next, he pulled out his shirt tails. His blouse was then gone. Thrown across the cottage. His hand went to his fly and undid the buttons as he moved between her thighs. He freed himself for her. Obviously, he had been ready for her. Then he was on top of her and pushing his way inside.
The sensation of being held against Kurt, so aroused against her back, while her husband took her drove her mad. She nearly came again, so aroused she was by the situation. He couldn’t be far enough inside her. She wrapped one thigh around his waist, drawing him further into her being. There was no more wonderful a feeling to her.
But at the same time, she felt Kurt’s desire, raw, but caged. She turned and bit his jaw line. Then her mind turned off. She was wild. The taste of him against her tongue. She had always wondered what Kurt would taste like. What he would feel like. This was the closest she would come to knowing. He seemed reluctant to kiss her, so she grabbed his cheek and pulled his mouth into hers with her nails.
He growled again and his paw encircled wrist. She wasn’t to be deterred. Her tongue was against his lips and soon his joined in. Gottfried held onto her breasts, squeezing and manipulating them with every thrust. He knew she liked it slow, deep and controlled. Like him. Every inch of his hardness rasping against her walls. She couldn’t get enough of him. She guided him into her with every pulse of her heart.
“Breed her, Gottfried! Time for a son!” Kurt urged as he bit at her lips.
“Will you give me a son, Alexandra ?”
The words lit her on fire. The primal drive of all this pleasure. She yearned to, with every fiber of her being. Those were the words she had been trained for from birth. To be bred. To make sons for the family. To continue her most noble bloodline and how she wanted them with this man. “Fill me with sons, Gottfried! Fill me with kings!”
His speed increased, and the frenzy took hold of all three of them. Kurt certainly wasn’t still beneath her, and his huge hands pulled her down against him. “I will give you a king!” He roared as they all reached a climx at about the same time. How her body had the energy to do this a second time, Alexandra didn’t know. The feeling; the all consuming feeling as he erupted inside her. It was as if his entire being was forcing its way as far into her as possible. Then again. And again. A twin sensation from below her as Kurt also came to a climax. The energy of these two men caused a third explosion inside her body. This one drove cognition from her being. It felt as if her mind had fractured inside her head. She had no strength and went limp against Kurt. Gottfried had collapsed on top of her, almost crushing her, and yet she didn’t care.
As always… all art courtesy of Madame Jojo…