Trois: Episode 2: An MMF Romance (Trois Serial) Read online

  Trois: Episode 2: An MMF Romance

  Trois Serial, Volume 2

  Brill Harper

  Published by Brill Harper, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  TROIS: EPISODE 2: AN MMF ROMANCE

  First edition. August 31, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Brill Harper.

  Written by Brill Harper.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Trois: Episode 3: An MMF Romance (Trois Serial, #2)

  About This Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  About the Author

  Sexy bad boys who do sexy bad things with their rough hands and the innocent virgins who love them. What’s not to like? Sign up for Brill’s Bites so you never miss a new release. I won’t spam you—I don’t have time! You’ll only get emails from me when there is a new release or a really great sale.

  About This Book

  WHEN I MOVED IN WITH my best friend’s hot older brother and his equally gorgeous best friend to get away from a dangerous dorm situation a few weeks ago, I didn’t know how much Fletch and Shane were going to change my life. They’re both smart and funny and so protective of me and don’t seem to mind that I’m kind of an awkward wallflower. In fact, they even offered to give me lessons in love to help me get over my shyness.

  Together. All three of us.

  I’ve got two virile men giving me a very adult education, and the one thing I’ve always been good at is being a star pupil. The best part is I don’t have to choose—I get them both and can literally do anything I want to them.

  Except keep them.

  And the closer we get, the more things we do together, all three of us, the more I want. But the more I want it, the more likely I am to lose.

  Author Confession: Trois is a little different from my other stories—but it still features the ever-awkward heroine and hunky alphamallows you’ve come to expect from me. It’s a serial, not a series, so you’ll want to read the episodes in order. It’s just as filthy-sweet as everything else I write, I promise. These three have been living in my head for over a year trying to get me to tell their story. Penelope has a lot to learn—but don’t worry—she’s got two amazing teachers to help her every step of the way. (The serial starts off MFM, but don’t you worry, MMF lovers, it’s a slow burn but we are totally going there.)

  Chapter One

  Penelope

  “I’M GOING TO TAKE IT out now. You okay with that, little bit?”

  I nod, not trusting my voice. It. His cock. The throbbing bulge inside his shorts.

  Is this really happening? I walked in on my hot roommates watching porn twenty minutes ago and now they are going to masturbate in front of me.

  I will finally, finally get to see a penis in the wild.

  “Bad idea, man,” Fletcher says. “We should stop this now, before we go too far.”

  Shane ignores the warning from Fletch and exposes his big, throbbing dick. I gasp. He’s huge! He allows me to stare for a moment, taking in how gigantic his cock is. I study the thick long shaft, the plum-shaped head glistening with pre-cum, and the heavy furred balls hanging beneath it still nested in his shorts.

  I gulp.

  “Your turn, Fletch.”

  I whip my head to the side. Will he show me too? Fletch is the more rational of the two, but that didn’t stop him from participating in our three-way make-out session the other day.

  “This is not going to happen,” Fletch says as he stares at the television. The porn isn’t really as interesting to me as what is going on right here on this couch.

  Shane slides his hand around his shaft. “You’re right, man. Your monster would probably scare her anyway.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Shane.”

  “Monster?”

  “Fletch is hung like a fucking horse.”

  My eyes get wide, and I can’t stop the quick glance at Shane’s cock, still out. Still huge.

  “Yeah, Velma. Fletch is even bigger.” He fake whispers, “He’s enormous. Biggest I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m going to kill you, Shane.”

  "So... when you say Fletch has the biggest you've ever seen, how big are we talking exactly?"

  Shane laughs. “For science, of course.”

  "Well, you can't just casually drop that kind of information on a girl and expect her not to ask any follow-up questions." I wish I had my notebook with me to record this.

  “I’m right here,” Fletch protests.

  "Seriously, I want to see it." Oh, geez. I think I said that out loud.

  “He’s part Viking or something.”

  Fletch shakes his head but surprises all of us by pulling down his shorts. His erect cock springs out, and I gasp at the size of it. It flexes and swells even more while I am watching it. “Whoa.”

  It is thick and almost lewd, it is so big.

  “Told you,” Shane says. Then he nudges me. “You should touch it.”

  “Can I?” Normally, this would not be my reaction, I think. But not only am I super turned on, but my curiosity and desire for knowledge is amped up to eleven.

  “This isn’t a petting zoo,” Fletch says, but he’s exhaling a little too loudly for me to believe he is immune to how hot this is.

  “Please, Fletch.” I look down at the anaconda between his legs. “Please. I really want to touch it.”

  “Listen to her begging to touch your cock. That’s fucking hot.”

  The look on Fletch’s face changes at Shane’s words. He has an edge now. A darker one than I’ve seen on our all-American college boy. An exhilarating rush travels through my body. There’s more to him than he shows most people. More to his perfect Boy Scout persona. I want to see him go to that primal place I see lurking beneath the surface of his gaze. It’s dark and swampy and primordial. I’m half afraid he’s going to drag me to his cave and half afraid he never will.

  “You sure?” he asks.

  Consent is very important in this household, I’ve noticed.

  “I really want to touch your cock. I’ve never touched one before.”

  He nods.

  I take hold of his dick, gingerly compared to all the movies I’ve seen, and examine the hard shaft. Fletch guides my hand and I watch, mesmerized by the mushroom head that will no way fit in any person’s vagina. He guides my hand back up, and together we repeat this motion several times slowly. His hand falls away, and I repeat the slow up and down motion on my own.

  “Oh, yeah, little bit. You got it.” This is from Shane, who is stroking himself while he watches.

  Fletch stops my hand and makes me switch to my left. “I want to see you wrap that little hand around Shane’s dick too.”

  The air changes in the room. It’s not just fun and games anymore. The tone in Fletch’s voice is all authority and something in me responds instantly. Like I’ve been waiting for his voice my whole life. Nerves of anticipation dance up and down my spine.

  Shane’s hand is still holding his cock, but he isn't jerking off anymore. I think he’s just as surprised by Fletch’s tone as I am.

  While still holding on to Fletch with my left hand, I wrap my right hand around Shane and give him a hard squeeze, testing the silky flesh as he moans. I pull up slowly and a large drop of clear liquid bulges out the tip and drips down the side.

  "Yes, stroke that cock, baby," Fletch says. “Stroke us both.”

  Normally, that k
ind of talk would seem cheesy to me. But right now, it’s ratcheting up my already thrumming pulse.

  They are both dripping in pre-cum, lubricating themselves and making it easy for my hand to glide up and down their shafts. The moans from the guys are making my head spin. I can’t believe I’m doing this. That this is really me. Boring old me. Two cocks. Two gorgeous men in the palms of my hands. Literally.

  Fletch stills my left hand. “Make Shane come. I want to watch.”

  I devote all my energy to Shane’s dick now that I’m no longer multi-tasking. Up and down, faster now, I add a little flourish at the top. Shane begins to pump his hips, fucking his hot prick through my fist. "Yeah, that's it."

  “How does he feel in your hand?” Fletch asks me.

  “Velvety, warm. So hard and thick.” I keep stroking and Shane’s dick gets redder, the head seeming more sensitive and a darker purple. I have the sudden urge to kiss it. Taste it.

  And then his back arches. “Gonna come.”

  He grabs my hand, maybe afraid I’ll stop too soon, and his body starts quaking. His cock throbs in my hand just as it erupts, sticky white cum continuing to spurt in pulse after pulse.

  “Oh, God. There’s so much,” I say in honest surprise.

  He groans lustily as he coats my hand. “Job well done,” he says after moaning again.

  I bring my hand to my mouth and lick my fingers.

  “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot,” Shane says, and it fills me with a strange kind of knowing pride. There’s a woman settling into the heart of me. Instincts I worried I might not have are beginning to show themselves. Dark, dirty instincts.

  “Not done yet,” Fletch says, reaching for me and pulling me roughly to him. His grip is powerful. Possessive. My name comes out of his mouth in a hoarse whisper and suddenly his lips are pushing into mine. He growls against my lips.

  He’s palming the flagpole in his lap. It’s tall and proud and a hungry. Primal lust surges through me. I take both hands to him eagerly.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus. Your hands are wet.” Wet with Shane’s cum. I’m off the charts on a scale of prude to slut right now. I am stroking a guy using the cum of his best friend as lube. And I love it.

  Fletch leans back and closes his eyes as I practice the same moves I just learned. He’s breathing hard, and the electricity in the air is sparking. He thrusts himself hard into my hands and spurts. It’s fascinating. I want more. I want him to do it again. I want Shane to do it again.

  But then the once electric vibe in the room cools quickly, the three of us suddenly aware of what we’re doing. What we’ve done.

  The porno on the 72-inch screen seems too loud, too brash.

  My hands are sticky and wet.

  “Hey, you want us to do you a solid, too?” Shane asks.

  I jump up off the couch. “Um. No. That was great, guys. Thanks.”

  That was great, guys, thanks?

  “Pen, let us take care of you.”

  “No, thanks. I have to go study calculus now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  I am so freaked out by what I did. Who I’m becoming. Who I want to become. Because that is the thing that freaks me out the most. Not that I just gave two boys hand jobs on our couch. It’s that I want to do more. I want to lose myself in the feelings of sexiness and power I felt. I want to touch them both everywhere. I want them inside my body. Not one. Not the other. Both.

  I want them both. If things went further, though, how would they look at me in the morning? I’m already awkward most of the time, I can’t imagine how I could manage acting normal after doing the things I want to do with them. This really should stop now. Before we go too far.

  Chapter Two

  FRIDAY AFTERNOON, I’M surprised to find both my roommates sitting on the couch waiting for me when I get home. Fletch looks pained and almost awkward, but Shane is just tossing his baseball into the air and catching it, over and over. Like he’s totally focused. Except I know Shane, and Shane is not a hyper-focused kind of person.

  This is an intervention.

  “Hey, guys.” I’m hoping to pass through the room to my bedroom quickly.

  “Sit down, little bit.”

  I’ve been very carefully avoiding hanging out in the living room since Night of the Epic Hand jobs. “Gosh, sorry. I have to go do...something.”

  “We need to talk,” Fletch says, using his Fletcher McSerious tone. It’s impossible to ignore him or do anything other than what he says. Lately, he’s had this sort of hypnotic masculinity that makes me nearly go into a trance. Makes me want to please him. Not just sex stuff. I just...want him to be happy with me. It’s hard to explain.

  I sit in the chair, not the empty spot between them on the couch. That spot is reserved for my inner-slut, and she is not invited to this discussion. In fact, I’ve locked her in a room in the basement of my mind. Padlocked her in there, even. She is not allowed to come out to play until I figure some more things out. Like who am I even?

  “Did we push you too far the other night? Did we make you...force you to do something you didn’t want to do? Because you have to know we would never hurt you on purpose. We care about you like a...well,” Fletch’s face flushes red, “not like a sister, obviously. But you know what I mean.”

  I’m tearing up, and I don’t know why. “You guys didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.” I don’t look all the way up because I don’t want them to see tears. I’d be hard-pressed to explain to them that I don’t know why I’m crying but that it isn’t their fault.

  “Then why the disappearing act? Are you embarrassed?” Shane asks. He’s still methodically throwing that ball up in the air, but Fletch reaches out and grabs it.

  “Honestly, yes. I’m embarrassed. And it’s not like I ghosted. I’ve just been avoiding...the couch.” Grow up, Winters. “I don’t know how to feel about what happened, so I guess I’ve been pretending it didn’t.”

  A minute of silence follows. It’s weird when silence isn’t quiet. It’s like the roar of the Pacific, waves of things unsaid crashing against the shore. But I used the moment to get my tears locked up, adding them to that basement in my head.

  “Do you want to know how we feel about what happened?” Shane is actually almost serious.

  My eyes dart between them. “Do I?” I shrug. “I honestly don’t know the answer to that.”

  “Well,” Shane says, ready to fill me in. “I feel like it was awesome, and I’m not sorry it happened. But it’s not right that we didn’t make you come, too.”

  I feel the five-alarm red spreading across my cheeks.

  “We’re men of honor,” he continues, ignoring my obvious distress. “We’re not boys. We’re manly men. And men don’t take orgasms without offering them in return.”

  Ah. The Knights of the Orgasm Table are worried about chivalry. I blow out a breath. “You offered, remember? There, now your honor is intact.”

  Fletch stands up like he can’t keep still and begins pacing. “I don’t want to feel like I’m some kind of lecher who took advantage of you.”

  “You’re not!” I insist. “I wanted to touch you guys.”

  Wow. This conversation is really happening.

  Fletch stops walking and hangs his head, hands on hips. “I feel differently. I feel like we pushed you into something you weren’t ready for, because if you were ready, then you’d have been ready to take pleasure too. Not just give it.”

  I rub my temples. We sound like some really weird PSA video they might run for teen sexual awareness. It’s stilted and strange. “I’m sorry that I’m shy. I didn’t realize it would be such a hardship for you both.” I hope the sarcasm comes through loud and clear.

  “Shy is kind of hot,” Shane says. “But “not ready” is different from shy. And if you weren’t ready, then we feel like assholes.”

  I’m dying a little bit more every second. Where is that girl from the couch? Why did I lock her in the basement? I really could use her right now.

 
; “If you didn’t like what we did, then it feels nonconsensual,” Fletch says. “And we need to talk about that. Because we’re older than you, and bigger than you, and it feels wrong. Like we should be ashamed.”

  I’m just going to change my name to Mortification Winters. Nonconsensual? Really? Now they feel like I’m some kind of victim? It was my hands on their cocks, not the other way around. “This is starting to sound like one of the lectures we got about consent during freshman orientation. I wanted to touch you. I liked it. Please don’t turn it into something dirty and wrong.” Wow. This is hard. I feel like I’m growing up a little more every second, but growing pains are awkward and achy. “You’re both really good guys. I’m not afraid of you. I’m just not sure of myself. So, I retreat. I mean this isn’t exactly a normal way most girls learn about sex. But...it doesn’t feel wrong to me. And that’s why I feel like it’s weird. Not what we did, but the way I feel about not feeling ashamed. I’m not sure I’m normal.”

  Shane watches Fletch cross the room. “I don’t think there is such a thing as normal. We’re all adults. We don’t have to answer to anyone. If we’re all enjoying the lessons, and let it be known I hella enjoyed the lesson on this couch, then I don’t think it’s wrong. But we need to make sure you didn’t do stuff you weren’t ready for. Inexperience isn’t the problem; it’s maturity. Were you really ready for what happened, or did the two of us use you?”

  “If I keep saying you didn’t, that’s not enough?”

  Fletch leans against the doorjamb leading into the kitchen. “It’s fine. But no more lessons. We’re done.”

  I didn’t realize how much I wanted to keep going until he said that. “Wait.”

  “I don’t want you to remember your time with us as ‘when those two perverts made me jack them off.’ There’s nothing wrong with you not being ready to get experience. I’m not interested in pushing you onto the highway.”