Peter had been told, on more than one occasion and in tones that varied from awe to disbelief, that his sex drive was truly a miracle to behold. It was a testament to the truth of this statement that he invariably agreed. At 32, he had slept with only slightly fewer women than a seasoned professional and a small but impressive handful of open-minded men. He’d had lovers of every discernible type, in countless positions and in various locations both exotic and discrete. What little he’d yet to experience he’d had no doubt he some day would – until the accident had cut him off (riding a motorcycle at excessive speeds on rainy nights can do that).
With four cracked vertebrae and a collection of other hurts, Peter was three months into a long and painful recovery – a recovery that had all but killed his once heroic libido. At first the loss hadn’t caused undue alarm. Traction, surgeries and heavy drugs would slow anybody down, and Peter’s sex drive, though titanic, was by no means immune. Now, however, that he was fairly mobile again (he could even sit up in bed with a certain rakish flair), his desire for sex was still fast asleep, as was his impressive cock.
He tried the usual stimuli – fantasies, porn, memories (lovingly catalogued) of particularly good fucks – but none of it seemed to work. Thinking that perhaps he needed something a bit more concrete, he tried fantasising about Sarah, his adorable live-in nurse whose long, tapered fingers were a masterpiece from God. He imagined those hands stroking him into a thoroughly rigid state. He imagined the ivory column of her throat swallowing him whole. He imagined her climbing on top of him with her neat little uniform tunic pushed up around her hips, revealing, what he imagined to be, her naturally auburn curls. Still, he didn’t stir. The bottomless well of his sex drive had gone disturbingly dry. Finally desperate, Peter broached the subject with his doctor while the adorable Sarah waited outside.
‘Well,’ said Dr Bradley, an aging hippie with a tremendously kind face, ‘you’ve endured quite a trauma. It’s normal for secondary functions to take a back seat while the body is trying to recover.’
‘Dr Bradley,’ replied Peter, scrubbing his hands through his dark, curly hair, ‘sex is not a secondary function for me. It’s a primary function. Possible THE primary function. If I lose my sex drive, I don’t know what I’ll do.’
Peter, who avoided emotional drama like the plague, heard his voice crack and grit his teeth. Dr Bradley gave him a sympathetic nod.
‘Perhaps you could try something tried and true – something that’s never failed, so to speak?’
‘I have. None of it worked.’
‘Well then, the only thing left to try, short of medication, is something completely new.’
‘Dr Bradley, with all due respect, I’m not sure my history allows for something completely new.’
Dr Bradley smiled. ‘Well, just give it a shot. See what happens. If it doesn’t work, we can always try medication.’
With an encouraging smile, Dr Bradley left, leaving Peter the rest of the afternoon to think. He thought while Sarah moved about the room, adjusting this and checking that with her long, elegant hands. He went through the list of things he hadn’t yet done, but concluded that there wasn’t much. He’d seduced a set of triplets the summer before, and the odds of finding a young, willing nun weren’t terribly good at the moment. Other than that, there were only two things, or rather, two people, that Peter had yet to do – his best friends, Ben and Michaela.
Peter and Ben and Michaela had been friends for ages, and in that time, nothing had ever happened between them – nothing except for that once. In their final semester of college, what had begun as a drunken wrestling match had turned into something else, and the three of them had ended up kissing on the floor. It hadn’t gone further than that, but the thought of it teased him now as he remembered Michaela’s hot, swollen mouth and the length of Ben’s cock pressed against his leg. Before he could change his mind, Peter picked up the phone.
He told himself, when he made the calls, that nothing was going to happen, that it was all just an experiment to see if his interest piqued. He told himself more than once and in no uncertain terms, but his nerves still jerked like a puppet’s strings when the doorbell rang that night.
‘Peter,’ Sarah said, in her adorably husky voice, ‘Ben and Michaela are on their way up. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go out for a bit.’
Peter’s stomach pitched, but he gave her a nonchalant smile. ‘It’s your night off, Sarah. Go have fun.’
‘Thanks. I won’t be back too late.’
Sarah bit her lip and smiled with a slightly less-than-professional warmth. At least, Peter thought she did. Before he could process the possibility, Sarah was gone and Ben and Michaela walked in. Peter’s nerves came back full force.
‘Hey Peter,’ Michaela said, dropping into a chair. ‘Are you OK? You look kind of awful.’
From anyone else, it would have been bitchy, but from her it was totally sweet. Peter forced a smile and managed a half-shrug.
‘I’m fine. Sarah’s just cutting back the codeine, that’s all.’
‘And how is the lovely Sarah tonight,’ Ben asked, setting a bag of Chinese take-out on the neatly organised desk.
Peter scanned Michaela’s body from the lovely peaks of her breasts to the extravagant length of her legs while Ben moved to stand beside her with his hip against her chair. Suddenly, Peter felt the whisper of something he hadn’t felt in months. Not so much a stirring, but the hint of a stirring. It was enough to make it worth the risk.
Michaela cleared her throat as Peter eyed the curve of her collarbone. ‘Peter? You there? Ben just asked about Sarah ...’
Peter shook his head and found Michaela’s face.
‘Sarah ... right. It’s Sarah’s night off. She said she was going out.’
‘That’s too bad. She’s pretty,’ she said with a wink. Ben rolled his eyes.
‘Come on, like you haven’t noticed. If Peter weren’t recovering, you two would be waging war.’
Ben shook his head. ‘Pretty though she is, she’s not my type.’
‘Since when do you have a type?’
‘Since now.’
Ben pushed off her chair and prowled around the room while Michaela shook loose her hair. Her fingers combing those long, dark waves and Ben’s obvious restlessness brought the whisper back to Peter’s groin, a little stronger this time. He listened to them banter, watched their physical ease, appreciated, not for the first time, how unusually good-looking they were. Remembering what Dr Bradley had said, Peter opened his mouth. He had no idea what he was going to say, he just knew he had to say it before he changed his mind.
‘Hey, guys? I have a request.’
Michaela smiled. ‘Sure – you’re the guy stuck in bed. Just don’t ask to borrow my underwear again.’
An awkward silence followed as Peter tried to figure out what he wanted to say. Finally, Ben rolled his shoulders and leant against the desk.
‘Seriously, Pete. What is it?’ he said. ‘Do you need a kidney? Because I’m sure Michaela would loan you one ...’
‘No,’ Peter said, ‘it’s nothing like that. This is just going to sound really ... odd.’
Michaela, who had a surprisingly tender heart for someone who looked like a Russian spy, leant over and took his hand.
‘Just tell us, Peter. It can’t be that bad ...’
Peter took a breath. ‘OK. I need you to fuck each other. And I need you to let me watch.’
Michaela opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Ben tactfully stepped in.
‘I’m sorry, you need us to what?’
Peter almost wished he could take the words back, but the looks on their faces clearly said there was nothing to do but press on. ‘I need you to fuck each other, and I need you to let me watch.’
Michaela cleared her throat. ‘And why would we do that?’
Peter recognised her tone, the incredibly reasonable tone that preceded her getting incredibly mad.
‘Wait. Just hear me out.’
Michaela crossed her arms as Ben lounged in a chair, but not, Peter noticed, before his eyes ran up Michaela’s long, long legs. Maybe there was some hope.
‘Since the accident, I haven’t ... my sex drive has dropped to zero. It’s not just that I can’t get it up, it’s that I don’t even want to.’ Peter paused, both humiliated and relieved to finally tell his friends. ‘I’ve tried everything and nothing’s worked – porn, fantasies; I can’t even jack off. But I remembered that night in college, and now, watching the two of you together ... it’s the first time I’ve felt anything in months. I just need to see if I’m ... if I’m ever going to get it back.’
‘I’m sorry, Peter,’ Michaela said. ‘I had no idea.’
Peter looked at Michaela, instinctively aware that Ben hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Finally, Ben spoke up. ‘I understand what you’re saying, but I need to talk to Michaela alone.’
Peter nodded. ‘Of course.’
Ben stood up and waited for Michaela at the door. Then they slipped out of the room. Peter knew they could refuse his request. He knew they probably should – what he’d asked them to do crossed about two dozen lines – lines that had kept the three of them close and uncomplicated for nearly 15 years. Still, he had to hope. The whisper of interest that had quickened his groin became something close to a hum. Peter strained his ears. He’d just managed to catch murmurs from the other room when the murmurs suddenly stopped. A long moment later, Ben and Michaela came back in.
Ben looked serious. Michaela looked flushed but calm. Then without saying anything, Ben pulled Michaela into his arms. He kissed her, lightly, playfully at first. Then his tongue slipped into her mouth and she sank her body into his. Peter tensed, floored by the fact that they were going to do what he’d asked.
Ben’s hands skimmed the length of her body, settling just beneath her breasts, just close enough to brush the undersides with his thumbs. Michaela arched her back, a subtle, instinctive response that had Ben wrapping his hands in her hair. Peter watched them move as if it was what they were meant to do, as if all the years of their friendship should have been spent like that. When Michaela began to sway against Ben, Peter was very officially on his way to his first erection in months.
Ben lifted his head and unzipped her dress, dropping hot, wet kisses down her neck along the way. Michaela tugged at his shirt, but he stayed focused on her face, watching her dark, hungry eyes as her dress slipped to the floor to reveal her gauzy bra and gauzier panties and just about everything else. She’d only just gotten Ben’s shirt off when his hand dipped below her lacy waistline and began to stroke her sex. She gripped his neck and moaned.
Peter watched, fascinated, as Ben brought Michaela right up to the edge, cradling her close as she moved against his hand. Suddenly, she cried out and Ben lowered his head, swallowing the sound with a kiss. A moment later, she opened her eyes. Peter watched Michaela look up at Ben as a profoundly sweet softness lit up her face. Then she gave him a drowsy smile and sank down to her knees.
Ben leant back, bracing his weight against the desk as she worked him out of his jeans. Then Michaela angled her neck, giving Peter an unobstructed view as she kissed the pearly drops of moisture from Ben’s fully hardened cock. Both men held their breaths. Then, with a distinctly feline smile, she took him down her throat.
Peter knew that his cock was hard – really hard – and that he was stroking it like a friend. He didn’t, however, know that Sarah had come home until she was standing near the bed.
‘Here, let me.’
Peter looked up and flushed. He hadn’t heard her come in (apparently, neither had Ben and Michaela, or if they had they didn’t care). Peter’s hand slowed to a stop. He was about to start apologising, when Sarah shook her head.
‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘You don’t need to explain.’
After warming a bit of lotion in her lovely hands, Sarah stroked him once, from base to tip as Peter groaned. Then she expertly went to work. Meanwhile, Ben, who’d been testing the limits of his control, dragged Michaela into his arms.
He laid the long, lush length of her down across the desk, as bottles, papers and a bag of take-out abruptly hit the floor. Peter, caught between Sarah’s glorious hands and the sheer hotness of his friends, watched Michaela wrap her legs around Ben’s waist and press her body into his. Sarah murmured something he couldn’t quite hear, as she looked appreciatively on.
The muscles in Ben’s back tensed and bunched as he lowered his mouth to Michaela’s breast, sucking hard at the nipple through the barrier of her bra. She moaned and threw back her head, as if the sounds were getting pulled from somewhere deep within her lungs. She was panting by the time Ben raised her hips and slid off her panties.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Ben ground out. ‘Tell me you’ve got condoms somewhere in this room.’
‘Here,’ Sarah said, tossing him one from the bedside drawer without losing the rhythm with her hand. Ben caught it, barely registering Sarah’s presence as Michaela tore open the wrapper and took the length of him in her hand.
‘Ben, hurry. Please,’ she whispered, arching her hips after quickly sliding it on. Ben kissed her, and thrust in.
Peter listened with half an ear as Ben’s breathing went ragged and Michaela mewled in relief. Then Ben began to move, thrusting deep. Sarah watched them for a moment, then matched her pace to his. Peter’s own hips, immobile for so long, began to move.
‘Careful, Peter,’ Sarah whispered. ‘Not too much. I’ll take care of you.’
‘Sarah, I need to feel you,’ he said, barely hearing himself over the rush of his pulse.
‘All right,’ Sarah said with a smile. ‘Just hold on a sec.’ Then she leant over and kissed Peter gently on the mouth before stepping away. He watched her strip out of her winter coat and her boots and practical tights, before she climbed carefully onto the bed.
‘You can touch me, Peter, but anything more will have to wait.’
Peter, who would have sacrificed an arm just to feel her creamy skin, nodded his assent. When her delicious weight had pinned him, he pushed her skirt up around her hips, revealing her thatch of auburn curls. She reached for the lotion, pressing her sex against his cock. She gasped and nearly dropped the bottle when he found her heat and stroked.
On the desk, Ben and Michaela drove into each other as Sarah gently cradled Peter’s balls, never wavering once with the motion of her hand. Peter closed his eyes. He was harder than he could ever remember being, absolutely ready to come, but she was drawing it out, letting him enjoy, waiting for Ben and Michaela to come. But Peter, now intensely focused on Sarah, wanted to see her come first.
He placed one hand on her hip to steady her. Then he slid his fingers into the heat of her slick, ready cunt. She arched her back and sighed. Peter paused and let her get used to him before he began to move, stroking the internal length of her clit while his thumb circled the swollen nub. She whimpered and jerked her hips, but even as she toppled over the edge, she stroked his cock, matching her movements to his. Peter grit his teeth as Sarah’s body clenched around his hand. He wanted to wait for Ben and Michaela. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long.
Moments later, Michaela cried out, clutching hard at Ben’s back. The second she started to climax, Ben let himself go and followed her over the edge. Then, as if she’d known what he’d wanted all along, Sarah pressed the base of Peter’s cock, gently massaging his prostate through his thin, sensitive skin. Peter closed his eyes and came in one massive gush.
When Peter opened his eyes, Ben held Michaela in his arms.
‘Hello, Sarah,’ Michaela said, as if they were meeting each other for tea. ‘How’ve you been?’
‘Not bad. How are you?’
Peter looked up at Sarah’s pretty, flushed face and manfully cleared his throat. ‘Sarah came home early.’
Ben lifted a brow, managing, somehow, to look both sleek and ridiculous, bent naked, over a desk.
‘Yes. Lucky for you that she did.’
‘Lucky for us both.’ Sarah leant in and gave Peter a scorching kiss. ‘I’ve been wanting to get my hands on him for ages.’
Michaela grinned.
‘I think we should probably go.’
Peter watched Ben help Michaela down, then draw her close. Even rumpled and post-coital, they looked absolutely hot.
‘Satisfied, Pete?’ Michaela asked.
Peter looked at Ben and Michaela, then at Sarah, who had folded herself up on the bed. ‘Yes. I’m satisfied.’
‘Good. Always glad to help. Ben, will you drive me home?’
Ben looked down at her, a thousand things playing over his face. ‘I don’t know ...’ he said, softly.
‘Ben, will you drive me home so we can do unspeakable things all night?’
‘Well, then yes. Of course.’
Ben and Michaela gathered their things and dressed in under five minutes, stopping only long enough to pick the food up off the floor.
‘Here you two – dinner ... maybe for later,’ Michaela said, as Sarah pressed her adorable mouth down the length of Peter’s throat. Peter waved and watched them leave. Then he settled down to thanking Sarah for helping him to recover.