Along for the Ride

Georgie blushed. She’d handled herself quite well up to that point, but something in her had to know. Now that it had been said, she realized there was no turning back.

He seemed to sense that she was willing to follow where this led, but that she needed to know more. “Jason’s a pretty cool guy. We’ve been friends for a while. He’s a photographer, mostly broadsheet press, although he sometimes does celebrity interview shots for the gossip magazines. We met in Austria when he was working on a travel shoot there. When I came to London, we got back in touch.”

The charcoal spun in his fingers; he wasn’t drawing. He chuckled to himself. He was working his magic, focusing her on the man who would shortly arrive.

“He’s also a musician, a talented classical guitarist, and a tattoo artist. It’s difficult for him to focus on one thing when so many options in life beckon.” He seemed older and wiser than Jason, but she guessed they were about the same age. Their personalities were what set them apart. Cal was intense, Jason more free-spirited. How fascinating, to have two such different but sexy men on hand. Georgie’s blood was on fire at the very idea of it. She could see it would be impossible to go for long without thinking about sex -- it was their theme, after all.

“What about you? Is painting your favorite thing?”

“Life is too short for favorites, Georgie.” His glance was meaningful. “I would like to try everything. Wouldn’t you?”

Georgie wondered if they were back on the subject of sex, but she was also curious to learn more about him.

“Is that why you teach art as well as practice -- for the variety?”

“I learn from the students. It’s good to see the things they create, their visions of life.”

By the time Jason arrived, they were chatting about the other students at the college. Georgie was older than most of them, and she and Cal shared anecdotes of their antics. The charcoal lazed in the palm of Cal’s hand, occasionally rolling back and forth with his gestures, but Jason brought with him an atmosphere of sensual tension. He was ready to begin. Their voices stilled. The two men exchanged meaningful looks and nodded at each other. Georgie wondered if it was a silent acknowledgment from Cal that the scene was set. Her pulse began to trip higher.

Jason touched Cal lightly on the back in a gesture of greeting as he passed, before walking over to Georgie. He was a very handsome man, his skin warm and lightly tanned, his features classical, his body firmly muscled and attractive. She could see he was ready for some action -- the hunger in his expression was obvious.

He looked into her eyes, then kissed her on both cheeks, his hands slowly smoothing her hair back from her face. The brush of his lips across her face and the musky scent of his skin brought a momentary pause to her breathing. Anticipation forced it on again, more rapidly. She smiled in appreciation and drove the momentary doubts back where they came from in her mind. She wanted this.

“Hello, babe. You’re looking good.”

“You’re looking pretty fit yourself.” She felt reckless and daring, her pulse rate flying up as she allowed herself to take in the presence of so much testosterone.

Cal watched them negotiating each other. She could see he was looking with his artist’s eye, for the painting, but she sensed it was more than that -- it was a thrill to him to share his friends, to offer them to one another in this way. Her body burned up with a mixture of shame and desire. She was about to display herself in a way that she never had before.

“Should we let him watch?” Jason whispered. “We could just tell him to get lost.” Humor danced through his expression.

“I doubt you could make him.”

Jason chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right.”

She glanced at Cal, who frowned at them from across the room. She blew him a kiss. Jason closed on her, kissing her neck while she looked at Cal. Power surged up through her veins. This was going to be good; she knew it.

Jason took off his shirt, dropping it to the floor, his eyes dark with simmering lust as he watched Georgie begin to undress. She glanced appreciatively at the smooth, strong outline of his bare chest. His jeans dropped, and he stepped out of them. His thighs were strong, his hips lean. He was a fit specimen, very well packaged indeed. His cock hung heavy, rising before her. A heavy, insistent pang of desire sprang up deep inside her core, and she glanced away, suddenly light-headed.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, and as they sank lower to curve around her breasts, Cal watched. The touch was like static, a thread of electricity that leapt from the skin of Jason’s palm into the tightening skin of her nipples. Jason looked at her so beguilingly. His expression was filled with a blatant, passionate sexuality. He stirred the palms of his hands, his body closing on hers.

“Shall we give him his fix?”

“Yes, oh, yes,” she murmured. She wanted to do it, all right; she wanted to know what it would feel like to be fucked by Jason and watched by Cal, who was standing with his legs spread, a bulge already visible in his jeans, his expression almost demonic.

When the contact of naked skin began, she was against Jason, gripping onto him, her fingers digging into his buttocks, her body a desperate torch flaring into the atmosphere. Jason responded to her sudden intensity by guiding her to the sofa, kissing her all the while. Georgie took his tongue deep into her m

outh, her body wanting more, feeling the hardness of the erection that was growing so very real against her belly. And those eyes, those eyes that watched.

She sat into one corner of the sofa, her arms draping over the back. She had to grip the velvet cover on the seat to keep steady.

He sank to his knees, pushing her thighs open to lean between them, his mouth buried in the soft skin of her throat. His hands swept up and down the length of her thighs. Georgie felt the slide of her own moistness seeping out, just before his fingers met it in the folds of skin between her legs.

Her hands moved to Jason’s head, closing around it as his mouth opened over her nipple, sucking deep, saliva slipping down from his lips to slide over her flesh. His fingers were inside her, slicking the moisture against the flexing walls of her sex. The engorged head of his penis moved between his fingers, displacing them in its quest for the soft, moist grip of her sex.

He rose up and grappled with her hips, drawing her body forward and pressing her thighs open. As he thrust into her, he glanced at the man watching from the corner of the room. He gave a hint of a smile and drew back, his arms rigid against the sofa, then thrust into her. Georgie cried out in anguish. Her body leeched to that thrust, her mind and body chaotic with abandon, her legs creeping higher around Jason’s body. She felt the velvet against her back and the ride of that thrust. She was locked into it, her body moving in time to meet it. She panted and moaned loudly. She saw the cracked paint on the ceiling fade, and then her eyes closed as she drove harder and harder to meet and take.

“Jesus, man, she feels so good.”