Austin turned in Harcourt’s arms and said, “Just a little taste?”
His lips parted, but he didn’t speak, only nodded. He laid his hand on the back of her head as she crouched and licked the length of his erection. His legs trembled, and his hand fisted in her hair. It was something amazing, to have power over a man like that. Holding his cock steady with one hand, she lapped his balls, then dragged her tongue up his length again and pushed back his foreskin. She traced his rim before pressing tiny kisses on to the head. The slit leaked clear fluid, and she drew it between her lips. He tasted salty. She pressed her lips around the head and sucked. A noise like a howl burst from him, and she jerked back, startled.
“Enough,” he gasped. “Virgil, quit laughing!” Harcourt yanked her towards him and kissed her feverishly.
He seemed to want her on top of him. Austin was happy to oblige, stretching out on his muscled length, pressing her bosom to his strong chest and matching up her quim against his rigid cock. She rubbed against him and moaned into his mouth, hungry as if she hadn’t already come twice that night. Harcourt kneaded her backside and DeVille stroked the rest of her, from one end to the other. Harcourt’s cock was insistent, though, and she began to feel hollow, so she sat astride him, lifted up enough to get a grip on his cock, and slid down. Harcourt reached up and played with her nipples, panting but not thrusting into her. “Lady’s choice,” he said. DeVille settled on his heels next to them, apparently content to watch for now.
Austin laid one hand on Harcourt’s belly, letting her fingers stray down into his curls, and then touching where they were joined. “I want a good, hard ride.”
He grinned, a flash of teeth she would’ve missed if she’d blinked. “That’d be a mercy just now, ma’am, but you please yourself.”
Austin found herself smiling. “I’m not aiming to have any mercy,” she said, and squeezed her passage on him. She could have sworn she felt the pulse of blood moving in his cock and throbbing against her inner walls. She bit her lip and rocked against him while he steadied her hips with his hands.
DeVille reached between them and laid his warm hand over her mound. His thumb nudged between her folds. “You want a little extra?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “And-” Harcourt’s hands went to her breasts before she could ask.
Her ride laster longer than she’d hoped. They were all weary, and even with DeVille’s skilled touch, her pleasure this time took longer to build, but it was worth it. Her crisis wracked her with spasms from feet to scalp. She cried out and, soon after, Harcourt followed, holding her tightly in his arms. When it was over, he pressed his mouth to her temple and held it there for a long moment. His fingers feathered down her back, and she blinked back tears, though she surely had nothing to cry about. She kissed his mouth softly and rested her forehead against his.
All three of them lay spent for some time, until DeVille said, “That was some pumpkins.”
Austin laughed. She didn’t want the night to end. She hesitated then decided to ask for what she wanted. When else would she have the chance? “I want you two to kiss. Because I ain’t seen it before, and I want to see it now.”
Harcourt opened his mouth then closed it again. He didn’t look so dangerous with his eyes so wide and shocked.
DeVille grinned. “Come on, Harcourt. Where’s your grit?”
Austin touched his face. “You don’t mind so much, do you? I’ve just got a powerful curiosity.”
“I noticed,” he said, dryly. “All right.” He gave DeVille a quick, sliding glance.
DeVille said, “I never thought I’d see the day. They must be sledding in hell right now.”
“Maybe I should change my mind,” Harcourt growled.
“Don’t,” DeVille said. He slid a little closer on the blanket, eyes downcast. “Listen to me.”
Harcourt’s brow wrinkled. “What’s all this solemnity?”
“I don’t want to joke about this.” He looked up, and Austin’s breath caught at his steady gaze, though he wasn’t looking at her. “You know if you asked me, I’d do just about anything for you, don’t you?”
“You don’t have to do anything for me. If you think that-”
Austin put her hand on his arm. “Let him talk.”
DeVille went on as if she hadn’t interrupted. “I didn’t say anything about having to. I only-Will you let me do this my way?”
“You’re serious about this. You really want-Why?”
“There’s a difference between us, Aaron. Not colour, or money, or bravery. You had a family, at least you did once. All I ever had was you. I’ve always wanted you to know that.” DeVille caught Harcourt’s face between his hands, dragged him close, and kissed him, open-mouthed.
Even weary as she was, it was downright exciting, seeing others engaged in intimacy at such close range, and so emphatically. DeVille’s hand snarled in Harcourt’s hair almost immediately, as if afraid he would escape; but after Harcourt’s first instinctive flinch, she could see his shoulders relax as he let DeVille taste him. Then Harcourt’s hand lifted, and she’d never seen anything so tender in her life as when his big square hand fitted itself to DeVille’s cheek, his thumb stroking. A moment later, he leaned forwards, moving into the kiss, and DeVille made a tiny sound in his throat.
Austin slid her hand down between her legs. Harcourt reached back, blindly, and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards them. He dragged his mouth away from DeVille’s, looking dazed, and kissed her hungrily. Then he turned back and kissed DeVille, who made a sound like a whimper, then Harcourt was tugging them both down to the blankets.
The night wasn’t quite over yet.
When morning came, Austin found herself rolling her few extra clothes into a saddlebag, not quite sure how DeVille had talked her into going with them, to make their fortunes in San Francisco.
Blackberries
Nalo Hopkinson
“You want some blackberries?” I asked Tad. “They grow wild all along here.”
In fact, blackberry bushes lined the narrow winding road as far as the eye could see. I walked over to the nearest one, where there was a clump of fat, ripe fruit hanging just about level with my mouth.
“You crazy, Shuck?” asked Jamal. “Those things are growing by the roadside with all this pollution! You gonna make him eat those?”
As if to prove Jamal’s point, a semi came hurtling down the road, careening around the curves, belching blue smoke. It was huge and it stank, but there were still three cyclists riding in its wake. They had serious gear on, and straddled serious racing bikes. One of them looked sure to overtake the truck at the next bend. I shook my head. Vancouver. Gotta love this city. I’d only been living in her three years, but already she had my heart, with her tree-hugging, latte-sipping, bike-riding ways. Some girls are just like that. I waved a wasp away from the bunch of blackberries I was eyeing and pulled the ripest ones off. They just fell into my hand, staining it a little with juice.
“Here,” said Tad. “Lemme try ’em.”
Jamal sighed and rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “Your funeral, sweetie.”
Tad smiled and made a kissy face at him. “And I know you’ll look hot at the wake, so cute in your tux.”
I put one of the blackberries into Tad’s mouth, enjoying the warmth and slight dampness of his mouth against my fingers. Tad had the kind of plump, ripe brown lips I liked. I imagined crushing the berries against them, and licking the juice off. Shit, the things I was thinking about my oldest friend.
Tad bit into the berry. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. I grinned. “The blacker the berry,” I told him. He responded with that flirty grin I remembered so well. Oh, gay boys could make me so randy. Gay boys and mouthy femmes.
“Come on, Jamal,” Tad said. “You really need to taste one of these. Here.” He took a berry from me and waved it in front of Jamal’s face. Jamal looked sceptical.