Masked Innocence. Alessandra Torre

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      Having two men at one time is a strange experience. My first time in a threesome, I was blindfolded, my senses heightened and restricted to touch, scent, sounds and taste. Touch. The feeling of their hands on my bare skin, caresses, grips, slaps and fucks. God, those long strokes of pure animal ownership. Scent. Fresh linen, candles, Brad’s unmistakable combination of God knows what that drove me absolutely crazy, my own sweat, the strange new scent of the stranger in the room. Sounds. Their ragged breaths, my own heartbeat pounding in my head, a primal groan, whispered words of reverence, the sound of flesh on flesh, of my own wetness. Taste. Tight, stretched skin in my mouth, Brad’s mouth on me, my own taste on their tongues, the eroticism of it all. And finally, the taste of completion when I milked them dry, the flavor of victory and carnal satisfaction. I had done it. I had gone there. And I had loved every minute of it.

      One

      “So, what’s next?”

      I turned my head, glancing at him, his dark profile hiding the grin that I knew played over his features. I reclined in the passenger seat of his car, snug against the warmth of the seat heater. He reached his hand over, offering it to me, and I grabbed it, running my hands over his huge palm and strong fingers. “What’s next with tonight?”

      He chuckled, the sound unfairly sexual. The man could make a sneeze sound carnal if he wanted to. “I’m taking you home with me tonight, unless you have an objection to that. I meant in regards to us.”

      I yawned. “Your home sounds good for tonight.” Yes, his huge home with its big, luxurious bed, worth-giving-up-carbs-for shower and stocked fridge would be welcome tonight, especially since a night in that wonderful bed normally led to a morning of orgasms. “As far as with us, that’s in your ballpark. I tried the threesome, and I’m cool with that if that’s what you need to be faithful.”

      “You’re ‘cool’ with it.” His wry tone elicited a frown from my side of the car. “You seemed a little more than ‘cool with it.’”

      I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I loved it, can’t wait to do it again, I will worship at the shrine of Brad from this day forth. Happy?”

      The light changed in the car, and this time I could see the grin that stretched over his face. “Well, if you insist. You know I strive to please.”

      Yes, you certainly do. I never thought I would appreciate one singular quality so much. Competitiveness is great in a partner. Sexual competitiveness, I’ve learned over the last several weeks, is holy-freaking-God amazing. I watched the curve of his mouth, loving the transformation it caused to his powerful features. “So, tonight was it, right? That’s the sexual extent of your freakiness?”

      “Well...” He shrugged, glancing over at me.

      “Well?” I sat up, turning in my seat to fully face him. “Well what?”

      “I will never need anything more ‘freaky,’ as you like to say, than what we just did. But the point of this is not just my pleasure. It’s to awaken your sexuality, to find what turns you on and to explore that. Chances are, tonight wasn’t your single perfect fantasy.” I shifted slightly at the statement. Uh, yeah—it pretty much was. “As we grow in our relationship, you may find you like completely different things than you do now. As your sexual boundaries expand, your preferences may change.”

      I smirked at him. “So, what you’re saying is, if I keep dating you, in three years I’m going to be licking whipped cream off a bearded lady and loving it?”

      He laughed. “If it reaches that level, you’re not going to be still dating me.”

      I relaxed back into the seat. “Well, for now, that was plenty hot enough for me. I don’t know how much more sexual exploration my mind can take right now.”

      “So, if I receive any invitations, I should turn them down?”

      I paused, midsnuggle into the leather cocoon that the BMW’s seat had become. “What? What kind of invitations?”

      “You know, parties, cruises or threesomes like we just did.” His offhand tone was ludicrous considering the events that he was so casually discussing.

      Parties? Cruises? I swallowed, unsure if I was ready for more. Brad read my silence and looked over, the passing streetlights revealing concern on his face. “Too much?” he asked.

      I braved a smile. “For now. Let’s take it one freak show at a time, okay?”

      From the other side of the car came that delicious chuckle, and I clenched my core in an involuntary response.

      The car slowed, making the turn onto Brad’s road, and I looked at the stately homes that passed, each one more impressive than the last. Then we pulled into Brad’s drive, the suspension smoothing the rough ride of the pavers below us, and taking us to his home.