The Doctor’s Truth: Part 3: Chapter 47

We go back to their place. Between frantic bouts of kisses and touches, the three of us shed our clothes all the way from the living room into the bathroom, leaving little piles like Hansel and Gretel.

In the shower, sand and salt water roll off me. The hot water brings my limbs back to life. My fingers throb as they move from freezing cold to burning hot, sensation tingling through them.

And through me. Jason’s lips on my shoulders. Donovan’s hands on my hips. Cleansing me. Resurrecting me.

We towel off, but we’re still dripping wet when we stumble into the bedroom.

It’s strange—even though we spent the whole night together, I feel like I haven’t seen them in so long. We wear different masks with other people around; in front of Mr. and Mrs. King, the three of us had to be conservative, judicious. Here, in the privacy of our own home, we can love openly. Want openly. Crave each other openly, fully, desperately.

A version of myself that has spent all night caged up inside of me has finally been released.

Jason lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me to bed. He kisses me, and I can taste the abandon on his lips. After tonight’s excitement, he’s a lighter man. Brighter. There’s nothing holding him back.

Donovan comes behind him and kisses Jason’s shoulder. Jason twists his head to catch Donovan’s lips in his own. The sight of them kissing always making my heart flip. But there’s something…different about them tonight. They’re easier with each other. More relaxed. I don’t know what shifted, but I do know it’s a good look on them. I feel a fluttering between my legs just watching them.

“I want it,” Jason murmurs, so quietly I almost don’t hear him.

“You want what?” Donovan pries, encouraging.

Jason wets his lips briefly, nervously. “Uh…you. Inside of me.”

Donovan glances at me. “Do you mind if I borrow your boyfriend?”

He’s being coy. I play into it. I trickle my nails up the nape of Jason’s neck—the way I know he likes it—and I feel him shudder lightly under my touch. “Only if I get to watch,” I reply.

“Even better—you get to help. Pass me a condom and lube. Pretty please.”

I dig both items out of the bedside drawer—a condom and a small, clear bottle. When I hold it up, Donovan nods and opens his palm for me to drop them in.

Jason lies down on the bed, still as a cadaver. He’s quiet. Unnaturally quiet for talkative Jason. Is he nervous? I remember my first time suddenly—how I let Jason take the lead. How Donovan sat beside me, holding me, reassuring me. How safe I felt with my two best friends there with me.

And now it’s my turn to be the rock.

I flop down and snuggle up next to Jason. “Nervous?” I ask him.

He chuckles lightly. “A little.”

“Do you think I’m incapable of being gentle?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

I slip my fingers through Jason’s hair. “How does this feel?”

He closes his eyes into my touch and hums contentedly. “Good.”

I allow myself a minute to admire Jason’s body—the linebacker’s chest. His skin looks honey-colored under the dim light of the bedside lamp. I trace the black dove ink across his chest and then trickle my fingers down his toned abdomen.

“I’m going to start with my fingers,” Donovan says. “It might be cold at first.” He drizzles lube into his palm, snaps the cap back on, and then his hand slips between Jason’s legs. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Jason responds. Donovan’s eyes lock on Jason, watching his face, and the muscles of Donovan’s arm flex as he inserts a finger in the other man.

Jason’s eyes shut, and his eyebrows knit. His jaw clenches a little.

I nuzzle against his neck and nibble his earlobe. “Relax,” I whisper to him. “Breathe.”

He does, exhaling deeply.

“How does that feel?” Donovan asks.

“Uh…strange,” Jason says.

“Bad strange or good strange?”

“Good. I think.” Jason wets his lips. “I can take more. Keep going.”

“Alright…here’s another finger.”

Jason groans at that one. I kiss and suck his neck and glance down at Donovan. Donovan is still watching Jason, carefully monitoring his face for any sign of discomfort. With his free hand, he takes Jason’s cock and starts to pump.

“Fuck,” Jason swears and arches into Donovan’s touch. His manhood swells under Donovan’s grasp, swiftly moving from half-mast to full.

“Good?” Donovan asks.

Jason buttons his bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “Yeah…” he murmurs. “Really good.”

There’s a hitch in his voice that makes me throb. I squeeze my thighs together to relieve the pressure.

“You’re doing so well,” Donovan coaxes, reassuring. “I think you’re ready for me.”

“Yeah…” Jason sighs. “I want it.”

Donovan removes his hands from Jason, which makes the other man groan. He’s already hard, and he unwraps the condom, slipping it over himself. He positions himself between Jason’s legs and slowly eases inside of him.

Jason half whimpers. “Is that okay?” Donovan asks.

“Yeah,” Jason mutters. “Yeah…really good…just…slow…”

Donovan returns his fingers to Jason’s cock. He thrusts inside of him, slowly, and pumps him in time.

Jason lets out a noise that sounds like nyuh-huh. His eyes are screwed shut, his jaw tight. His neck glows red. He looks like he’s in pain—or pleasure? It’s hard to tell.

But goddamn, it’s arousing.

I can’t help myself. My fingers dive into my panties, and I find my slippery wet slit. Immediately, I start flicking my clit. My pleasure bundles and tightens.

“Fuck—stop,” Jason says suddenly, and Donovan freezes.

“Am I hurting you?”

Jason shakes his head.

“Do you want me to pull out?”

Another shake of his head.

“Use your words, Hotshot.”

Jason hides his face in his hands. “I…uh. Don’t want to cum yet.”

A light grin ghosts across Donovan’s lips. Donovan’s eyes catch on me. They slide over my lewd state appraisingly. “What do you think?” he asks me.

“You two are beautiful,” I breathe.

“Isn’t he being so good?” Donovan pries. He takes Jason in his hand and pumps him, slowly. Jason throws an arm over his own face, muffling the sound of his moans.

“Mmhm…” I rub myself faster.

“Don’t you think he deserves to taste your sweet cunt?”

My breath catches. “Yes…”

I slip out of my panties and crawl over to Jason. He’s ready for me, and he holds my thighs when I sling a leg over his chest and lower myself down onto his face. I can feel the warmth of his breath, then the way he nuzzles my cunt, kisses it. Finally, his tongue sneaks between the folds of my slit and lashes across my seam.

“Yes,” I whine, “that feels so good…”

Immediately, I’m rocking against his lips. He drinks me in greedily, his tongue bold and hungry. When I open my eyes, I catch sight of Donovan. Watching me. Intently. As if he’s memorizing every moan. Every bite of my bottom lip. Every flutter of my eyes.

Jason’s tongue is sloppy with need, and his desperation is infectious. Every lick, suck, and nibble sends me closer to the edge of insanity.

I collapse forward and knead my fingers into the muscles of Jason’s stomach. My pleasure has made me weak, and I can barely keep myself upright.

Just when I need it, Donovan’s strong grip slides over the side of my face. His fingers fist my hand, and he leans forward so his forehead touches mine. I lean into him, and I can feel his breath beating against my lips. We’re moving in tandem now; he is the moon, and I am the tide, and I’m swaying into his orbit, following his lead.

“Good,” Donovan says, “you’re doing so good. Give me everything.” And I don’t know if he’s talking to me, or Jason, or both of us, but with his permission, I unravel.

A pitchy sound leaves my throat as my orgasm crashes against Jason’s mouth. I whine and rock against him, everything in me throbbing. Nuzzled against Donovan, I can hear the hitch in his own breath and his soft, low groan. I feel the vibrations of Jason’s moans against my slippery wetness.

We’re cresting together—all three of us. Tripping like dominos, crashing and sighing.

I climb off Jason’s shoulders, and he pants. Jason’s body is slick with sweat, his skin furnace hot. I see white trails of him across his abdomen and dripping down Donovan’s fingers. We cuddle him between us, Donovan and I. I want to wrap him up, and I squeeze tightly to this man I cherish so deeply.

He’s still trying to catch his breath, panting in the darkness. He laughs. It’s the best sound.

“I love you,” Jason blurts out. “Both of you. I love you like oceans. I love you to the moon and back again. I love you so much my chest aches—like physically hurts—when I think about you.”

His admission hits me like a bag of bricks, and it knocks the air out of me. “I…” I start to speak, but my throat closes up before I can get any further.

His cum, I can swallow. His admission of love? It gets stuck like a chicken bone.

Words clot in the back of my throat, stubborn and solid and refusing to go any further.

I look at the other man in bed with us. In the dark, Donovan’s eyes flicker like steel.

“Love you, too, big guy,” he interrupts. He says it for both of us, saving me from my own fumble. “It’s been a long day,” he adds. “Let’s sleep it off.”

Then he reaches over the both of us and flicks off the lamp, and the room floods with darkness.