Shape

Candy Coated Threesome

Cherie and her friends used to joke about it – that a woman really needed two guys in her life. One who actually cooked and did the dishes, one who satisfied in other ways.

That was not quite what happened to Cherie. 

She owned a candy store in Depoe Bay, Oregon, and in winter months, business was slow except for the holidays. She was watching a movie on her phone, thinking she might close-up early – not only was it January, it was a Monday, besides, when the bell over the door chimed, and she looked up to see two pretty spectacular looking guys strutted in, mid-twenties, maybe, one dark haired, one blonde, arms rippling, abs solid beneath long sleeved T-shirts shirts and down vests, hips encased in jeans. 

Almost without thinking, she smoothed her blonde-streaked hair and straightened the hem of the black sweater dress she was wearing. 

They weren’t locals, these two, but they looked slightly familiar. They looked around the store, and one of them, the blonde, picked up a plastic basket and began to fill it with this and that – gummies and chocolates and old fashioned chews.

“Hey,” the blonde one said, “Good to see you.”

“If I can help you find anything, let me know,” she said.

“You don’t recognize us, do you?” the blonde one said, extending his hand.  “I’m Derek, and this is my friend, Jim. Met you at the confectioner’s convention in New York last year.”

Something clicked in her memory. Shaking their hands, and a certain chemistry between all three of them that had left her feeling a little confused.

“We know Sebastian,” Jim said, looking around the shop. “He’s right, your shop is delicious looking.”

She laughed; Sebastian, who was one of her distributors, said that about every candy store.

“I know,” Jim laughed, too. “He says it about our shop in LA, too.” 

“We all had drinks…” she recalled, “but I had to leave early.”

“You’d said to look you up, and so we did,” Jim shrugged.

“My folks live in Florence,” Derek explained, “I flew in for the holidays.”

“And I wanted to take photographs at Crater Lake in the winter, so I flew up. Left a friend in charge of our store, so it’s a short trip.”

“No trip at all to Crater Lake. They closed the road this weekend – expecting another storm,” Jim said. “So, we looked you up instead.”

“Well, it’s good to see you,” she said. 

Again, there was chemistry, she thought. In fact, they both looked, as Sebastian would say, rather delicious. 

“We want to take you to dinner,” Jim said.

She didn’t have any plans for dinner. 

Still, she hesitated. “I’m not sure what’s open on a Monday,” she said.

“The lodge restaurant,” Derek said, “we’re spending the night.”

“I mean if you’re busy,” Jim said, “I understand. It was just spur of the moment, stopping in.”

He set the basket on the counter, and their hands touched briefly as she reached for items to ring up. 

Jim smiled at her, his big brown eyes sparkling. Derek leaned in with a package of cookies. “Let’s get these, too. I’ve been thinking of stocking these.” 

His eyes were a vivid green.

“Okay,” she said suddenly. “Let’s go have dinner. At your hotel.”

“Our treat, of course,” Jim said.

She zeroed out the till. “Dessert’s on me,” she said, and bagged their sweets.

****

The Oaks Room was an old school meat and fish sort of place, nicely dark, red leather banquettes, wood paneled walls. There was a fireplace. Everything on the menu was expensive, but they told her not to look twice, anything she wanted. 

She could hardly bring herself to think about what she really wanted. It wasn’t on the menu exactly, but –

The way one or the other of them touched her arm. Jim lightly resting his palm on the small of her back, leading her to the table. Derek’s knee brushing hers under that table. Now both of their knees were warm and close.

The drinks were expensive, too, but she intended to have several.

Jim ordered a cheese plate with their drinks, and they snacked companionably like old friends. Where they’d gone to culinary school, how they’d met – over a spoiled batch of fudge, how they were friends for over a year before they found out they were both seeing the same girl.

“No,” she said, as they ordered a second round of drinks, “how …”

“Technically she was cheating on us. But she said she loved us both, and it all worked out in the end,” Jim said.

“We were all young,” Derek shrugged. “She’s married now.”

“Not to either of us,” Jim added, laughing. 

“How did it work out? Everyone end up as friends?” she asked.

Their knees were both touching hers, one on either side. She thought she knew the answer.

“Sure,” Derek said.

“We all hung out together. Once the secret was out, we had a lot of fun.”

“She did really love us both, I think,” Jim said.

“Like us both anyway,” Derek said.

The new drinks came, they toasted.

“Being in like,” she said.

“To being in like,” they agreed.

But liking wasn’t exactly what Cherie was feeling. She was feeling the way she felt when she tried one chocolate with sea salt and one with dark cherry. Which was better? Maybe she could have both.

The lodge restaurant had large windows, and through them, she could see that even here along the coast, it was starting to snow. 

They shared wine with their dinner, clam chowder, an heirloom tomato salad, salmon. 

They had after dinner Amaro but passed on chocolate mousse. 

“We can try your candy,” Jim said, and the way he said it made Cherie’s

mouth go dry. 

“We can have an Irish coffee with the candy out in the lobby bar,” Derek suggested.

“Can’t have more to drink if you’re planning to drive me back to town tonight,” Cherie said.

A moment of silence. 

“Maybe just regular coffee,” she suggested.

“Sure,” Derek said.

“You could spend the night,” Jim said. “We have a suite.  I mean why end a good time.”

She smiled. Jim now had his hand on her knee.

“You’re right,” she said. “And the snow’s really coming down. Baby, it’s cold outside.”

Derek rested his hand on her other knee.

“We don’t want you to get cold.”

She bit her lip. Did she really want to do this? There was Uber…

But she did want. Want to do it. Want to have a story to tell her friends at next month’s Bunko game. Want to have maybe just the teeniest tiniest bit of getting hers – 

She was excited. She decided they were right. She didn’t want to get cold either. She wanted to get hot. 

She moved Jim’s hand from her knee to her thigh, just under the hem of her sweater dress. He grinned. She took Derek’s hand, and moved it up, too, even higher, to the part of her tights that was already feeling just a little bit moist. 

“You need to keep me warm,” she said. He put his thumb against her pussy and rubbed at her.

“That’s exactly right,” she said. “But maybe without the stockings and the underwear.”

“Dessert in our room?” Jim suggested. He left her pussy to Derek, and draped his arm over her chest, where he could tweak her nipples through her sweater dress.

Cherie was breathless. “Not yet. I want that Irish,” she suggested.

Derek nuzzled her neck. “Whatever you say.” 

Jim’s fingers kept grazing her nipples, making them jut out through her thin bra and the fabric of the sweater.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby,” she said, and slipped nimbly from the table, heading for the Ladies room.

If she was going to do this, she was going to do it her way. 

It was easy enough to take off her bra.  She struggled a bit with the tights,

peeled off her underwear, decided to put the tights back on.

It was the right decision. The slight rubbing from the fabric there was a turn on, too. 

She touched herself through the spandex. She was practically dripping and they hadn’t done anything at all but suggest…

The Irish coffees were waiting a dark booth in the back of the lobby bar. All three were in a row on one side of the table.

They’d spread out a selection of candy between their cups. 

She crossed the room feeling her breasts swaying free beneath the sweater, feeling the slight delightful rubbing of the tights against her pussy.

Jim stood up to let her slip in between them.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” Derek breathed.

“You’re observant,” she teased, taking a sip of the coffee.

He flicked at her right nipple until it jutted through the dress, very noticeable even in the dim light of the bar.

Jim took the other side, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. “She’s more excited by me,” he said.

“You both excite me,” she said. “But I like the idea of you each trying to please me the most.”

She finished her drink, and set her glass back down. The warm, rich liquid seared through her veins, the mix of coffee and alcohol giving her a real buzz after the wine and the Amaro and oh yes, the before-dinner-scotches. 

Maybe she’d had too much to drink. She could still call it a night.

She reminded herself of that option as Jim slid his hand up her thigh, found there was less of a barrier between his thumb and her clit, and gently spread her legs, rubbing her.

When she came, she closed her eyes.

She knew they’d traded off even without seeing. Derek’s strokes were lighter where Jim’s were insistent. He circled around the wet crotch of her tights, teasing her with his fingertips. 

“Upstairs?” Jim said hopefully.

“Not yet,” she replied. “Look at all this,” she’d opened her eyes and gestured at the candy. 

They had German chocolate and French, dark chocolate and milk. They had caramel and nougat and bourbon-laced mousse.

Her lips were sticky, but it didn’t matter, they took turns kissing it off.

She had a feeling the waiter was watching them, and that made her more excited, still. 

She took Derek’s face in her hands and gave him a long, deep kiss. Then she pushed him away. “Nibble my tits through my dress.”

He did, leaving a satisfying wet mark. Just looking at it, she came again, against Jim’s hand.

“Now you,” she said to Jim. 

He left his hand where it was, and rubbed her. He dipped his head and tugged at her nipple with his teeth. 

“I want to bite through your dress,” he said.

“Okay. Let’s go upstairs.”

Between the alcohol and the sugar rush she felt dizzy. She took each of their arms as they walked to the elevator.

There was an attendant, so they just stood still, laughing to themselves like silly kids while the elevator oh-so-slowly climbed five floors. 

Derek unlocked the door, and she stepped inside, tossing her purse on the desk, pulling off her shoes. She crossed over to the bed and sat down on the edge, her black dress riding up on her svelte thighs. She knew they could see her pubic hair through her stockings. If they were looking.

She glanced up. They were looking. They were also looking at her tits, stll jutting out against the fabric of her dress.

She leaned across the bed, not bothering to pull her skirt down. Now they could get a clear view of her pussy, open and ready. 

Derek flicked on the radio. 70’s era disco, flowed through the room. It was kind of perfect. 

“So, strip for me, boys,” she said.

She lay back on the bed and watched. Derek was graceful, took off his belt, teased her with it, waving it like a lasso around her, lifting it away. He unzipped his jeans, releasing a thoroughly priapic penis. No underwear. Nice. He pulled off his tee shirt and winter vest, one quick move, abs taut, leaned down low, stood up again, his cock only inches from her face. Also nice. She could easily grab it and lick it. But not yet. No, not yet.

He kicked off his sneakers. Slipped his jeans down, and not a trace of a tangle. Nope, kicked them off, one leg after the other. There he was naked, his chest hair as blonde as the hair on his head, his crotch darker gold.

She nodded her approval, a light clap of her hands. Who was she tonight? Well, whoever she was, she was sure having fun.

She patted the edge of the bed, inviting him to sit. He did.

Jim went at it from a different perspective altogether. Gyrating, dancing, doing moves. Then in a flash he’d ripped off the tee shirt, unbuckled his belt.

He bent down and pulled off one boot and then the other. Boots, she thought. Macho. 

He was still wearing his jeans.

He reached for her hand and pulled her up so she was standing next to him. They danced, brushing his hip to her hip. Feeling the bulge in his crotch as he circled her.

He winked at her. Winked at Derek.

And then Derek was on his feet, and they were both dancing up against her. Derek, dick hard and sticking straight out, brushing against her dress, leaving a tiny, slimy little trail. No matter. There were dry cleaners. She liked that. Jim unzipped, pulled his pants down, tossed them aside cleanly. Kept on dancing. He had on bright blue speedos, and he was bursting through them. He peeled them down, so that his dick – even bigger than Derek’s, and Derek was pretty well-hung – stood up straight. Like a lollipop.

Okay, she couldn’t resist. She leaned over and gave him a lick.

“Yeah,” Derek said. “Oh yeah.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Lie back,” she suggested to Derek.

She positioned herself kneeling between his legs, sucking him. 

Jim needed no instruction. He lifted her dress and moved against her, and without coming inside her, found the right spot to touch her clit, and make her come. He came too, she felt it drip down her tights.
Derek came in her mouth. She inched off the bed and stood up.

“Raincoats on, fellas,” she said, peeling off the sodden tights.

She flopped back on the bed, watching them. She was surprised how soon they were ready to go again. She must’ve said it out loud, although she wasn’t thinking clearly. How many times already had she come?

“We’re always ready,” Jim laughed.

“How do you want us?” Derek asked. 

That seemed absurdly polite.

“Take turns fucking me,” she said. “To be blunt.”

She closed her eyes again. “Make me guess who.”

At first she knew, but then she lost track. Jim pushed down the scoop of her neckline and popped her tits from her dress, sucking, rubbing, and lightly pinching them.

Derek was a smooth and slow and teasing with his dick as he’d been with his fingers, entering her lightly at first, just the tip of his cock, then pushing and stroking deeper and deeper. She came, twice.

They traded. Derek circled her breasts with his tongue, lapping at her, nibbling her neck, the lobes of her ears.

Jim thrust inside her, rhythmic, bold. She came three times.

She got up on her hands and knees. One of them lifted her dress high around her waist and rode her, easy, easy. The other reached up under her dress, and licked at her tits as they hung low and pendulous.

She lay down on her side. One of them circled her anus with his tongue, plunged a finger, then a second inside her. The other had his cock in her pussy, barely in, then fully in. So much at once – she let out a low shriek. She was floating outside of her body. She’d never known that sex could get you high. Or maybe she’d known but never felt it.

She purred like a kitten as one of them rubbed her thighs, his hand slipping between her legs, stroking her there until she bit her lip. She’d wanted to stay in control but she was losing it.

She raised her hands over her head and Jim helped her wriggle out of her dress. 

They tumbled together on the bed, just touching each other, enjoying being naked. 

Derek had her skirt up was flicking her clit expertly, making her even more slippery and wet if such a thing was possible. She took Jim in her mouth. He tasted saltier than Derek, when he came.

Over the thrum of the disco music – it was raining men, and truly it was – she could hear the exciting little sucking sound her pussy made as Derek moved his finger in and out, in and out. 

Jim, his cock still dripping, was working on her tits, licking first one nipple and then the other. 

She closed her eyes again. She heard the tear and snap of condoms unwrapped and reapplied.

It was Derek, she knew now by the touch, rocking her, legs spread wide. Jim kissed her legs, lifting them one at a time around Derek’s neck. 

Then he came, and rolled off, lying panting, his taut chest heaving, on the bed. 

Jim was ready to take over. He flipped her over, lifted her hips, and came at her doggy style again. She could feel the little love bites he was leaving on her shoulders. She gave a quick cry; his release came just after. 

And that was that. The three of them lay there, sprawled out on the bed while Donna Summer sang about love. Or something like love, do it to me again and again, she sang.

And really, Cherie thought, as she lay there listening to the music, wasn’t that what every woman wants?

***

They had the rest of the candy for breakfast, eating it, licking it, off each other’s skin.  

After checking out, they dropped her at her house, inviting her to visit in LA, any time – and maybe she would. She showered, dressed, and went to the store. As she flipped the door sign from closed to open, for the first time she realized she’d named her shop well: “Irresistible Pleasures.” 

She walked around, straightening boxes, opening one to set out samples. It was dark chocolate with Grand Marnier mousse filling. She’d tasted it earlier, that filling, on Derek’s cock. She took a bite now, and a little bit dripped on her finger. She licked it off. 

“Delicious,” she murmured to no one but herself.