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“If George would be amenable, of course,” Thayet amended hastily. King Jonathan IV of Conté, poleaxed, barely registered the words. His sapphire eyes were glazed over. A hundred percent of his brainpower was focused intently on the image of his new wife entwined in a sensuous embrace with the rough, grinning little woman who was her lifelong best friend. He swallowed.
“So, so, you and Buri?” He asked, his voice cracking. Thayet suppressed a laugh.
“Sometimes women have things to teach each other, too. We spent a long time on the road together, and it wasn’t safe to be making that kind of contact with strangers.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you hear my question?”
Jon rubbed a rueful hand over his beard. “I missed it.”
Thayet’s smile was downright wicked. “I asked if it would be all right with you and George if I looked in on you in one of your… meetings.”
Jon let out a breath. This was not the conversation he envisioned when, gnawed by guilt, he determined he had to confess to his new wife that he’d had sex––frequent, very exciting sex––not only with another man, but with the King of the Rogues himself. He knew Thayet had a relaxed attitude with regard to sexuality, and she and George Cooper had become fast friends almost as soon as they’d met, but for her to––without him even hinting that he might want such a thing!––offer him leeway to continue his occasional trysts with George…. He sent a fervent prayer of thanks up to the Goddess for the gorgeous, regal, not-at-all traditional woman he’d made his queen.
“I’ll talk to George,” he promised, a spark thrilling through his stomach at the prospect. A thought struck him. “Do you want to… join in? I’m not sure––“
“No, not quite,” she interrupted. “I’d just like to… see how it all goes. I want to watch your face.” The corner of her mouth quirked up and her steady hazel eyes were dark as they met his.
If any of the blood in Jon’s body had been north of the equator before, it was no longer. He raised an eyebrow and glanced meaningfully back at the door of their––their!––bedchamber. Thayet, grinning, grabbed his hand and hauled him in.
The thick wooden door thudded shut behind them, and Jon spent an extremely educational afternoon learning some different ways he could use his kingly mouth. When he sat down for his evening meeting to review the progress of the disaster relief efforts in Corus, Gary pretended not to notice the tufts of Jon’s black hair that had refused to be combed back down flat.
~
Thayet had determined to be the one to talk to George, reasoning that they’d both rather hear from each other how enthusiastic their interest might be. Besides, she had some deliveries from Stefan Groomsman that she knew would interest George, and she owed a visit to the temple of the Goddess. Their business conducted, the pair dropped into cushioned chairs in a private room at the Dancing Dove.
“How many of your rogues are listening to us right now?” Thayet asked. George grinned a crooked grin.
“None anymore, I’d wager. Everybody knows what happens when ears go a-wanderin’ in my presence.” Thayet snorted in an unqueenly fashion. George continued. “So, I’m to understand you and Jonny-boy have a proposal for me?”
Thayet explained. When she was finished, George gave a low whistle. Though his demeanor was naturally less flappable than Jon’s, Thayet was satisfied to note how he'd bitten his lower lip as she spoke.
“Well, that certainly sounds like my idea of a good time.… I’d love to show you just how pretty your lover-boy can sing when you play him just right. Maybe we could swap some techniques, eh?” George leered rakishly, and Thayet laughed. “There’s just one thing. Though we’ve yet to make it official, I’m a kept man these days. It wouldn’t be right for me and Jon to invite you to a party without my own lady love.”
Thayet slapped a palm to her forehead. “Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t think about Alanna in all this. She does know about… you and Jon?” George waved an airy hand.
“’Course. She knew about it when her name was still Alan. Though, back then, he turned purple every time I invited him up to join us. I doubt she’ll be interested in the particulars now.”
The gears were turning in Thayet’s head. “Could I speak to her about it? I think I could... prevail upon her.”
George winked. “Feminine wiles, eh? No further questions. I’m sure I’ll hear from our Lioness when you’ve all come to an understanding.”
Thayet lifted her glass in reply.
~
“Your Majesty.” Alanna bowed deeply, to Thayet’s chagrin.
“Alanna, please!” Thayet grabbed both of Alanna’s hands, pulling her back upright. “None of that. If you insist on standing on circumstance I shall simply be too proper to tell you what I brought you here to say, and you shall be forced to disappoint your queen in her hour of need.”
Alanna laughed, her brow unfurrowing. “All right, all right. I’m never certain these days, how to react to a royal summons.”
Thayet smiled. “I’m not surprised. It’s been a real stampede, these past few weeks. I hardly know how to act, myself.”
“So what’s this thing you called me up here to tell me about?”
Thayet sighed. “Do you want to walk down to the practice courts? I hardly know where to start.”
Side by side before the archery targets, Alanna groaned. “Did you bring me here just to show off? You know I’ve never been any kind of hand with a bow.”
Thayet grinned, her eyes trained steadily on the growing cluster of arrows sprouting from her target’s bull’s-eye. “You’ll stay that way forever unless you practice,” she sing-songed. “Anyway, I wanted to be farther away from the crowds,” she said, dropping her voice. Alanna kept her eyes on her own target as she continued, “I know you know that Jon and George have a… history together.” A flush crept up Alanna’s neck.
“That’s one way to put it,” she muttered.
“George tells me he has your blessing to carry on how he likes, and I’ve of course told Jon the same.” At this, Alanna’s arrow went wide.
“Really? But––you’re the queen! He’s the king! These sorts of things aren’t––aren’t proper, or, or––“
“Well, any degree of intercourse between the king of a nation and the king of its thieves is hardly proper, but we both know that Jon and George’s friendship has done nothing but benefit Tortall.” Crimson, Alanna gave a hesitant nod. Thayet continued. “Anyway, it hardly bothers me. I’ve slept with a number of my female friends, especially when we’ve traveled together.”
Alanna dropped her arrow and didn’t bother to pick it up. She gawped at Thayet openly, who giggled. “Honestly, I know these things aren’t spoken about as openly in Tortall, but you have to know there are plenty of women who are delighted to touch each other in all sorts of interesting ways.”
Alanna made a noise like a teakettle. In the portion of her brain that was still thinking rationally, she was incredibly thankful Thayet had chosen an area out of earshot to have this conversation. The vast majority of her mind, however, was remembering the gown of red silk that Thayet had been crowned in, and how it had draped over the lines and curves of her body. For the moments that Alanna had been able to see her, she hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away. She’d chalked it up to her newfound appreciation of participating in femininity, but now…. Her eyes fell to the span of Thayet’s shoulders, the muscles bunching in her forearms, and she swallowed dryly.
Thayet had asked her a question. “What?” Alanna asked dumbly. Thayet giggled.
“You’re reacting just like Jon when I told him that. I can see how you two get along so well.” Face burning, Alanna scooped up her dropped arrow and fumbled to nock it again. “I told Jon and George I’d be interested to sit in on one of their little trysts. I wondered if you’d like to join me.”
Alanna’s arrow went wide again, and this time she gave up entirely. “You, you want to––to watch them. At it.”
Thayet’s smile widened. “I think it could be both educational and pleasurable. Even more so, with your company.” Alanna hid her face, and spoke carefully through her fingers.
“The bounds of propriety, Your Majesty––“ Thayet made a noise of exasperation, and Alanna tore her hands away from her face and whirled around to glare into Thayet’s eyes. “You want us to hold hands in girlish solidarity while we watch our respective husbands fuck? Have I got that right?” She snapped, then blanched and covered her face again. “I’m sorry, that was––“
“No, you’ve got it exactly right.” Thayet shrugged. “I mean, I’d love to do a little more than hold hands, but I’ll adapt to whatever’s most comfortable for you.”
Alanna made no sound, and Thayet’s face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve upset you. It was an extremely presumptuous ask––oh, I hope you don’t––“
Alanna reemerged to flap her hands at Thayet. “No, no, it was a perfectly fine thing to ask, I just––will you give me some time to think about it? I need to… figure some things out.”
“Yes, of course, please do.” Thayet hoped she didn’t sound as wretched as she felt. Evidently she did. Now it was Alanna’s turn to grab both of her hands. Her amethyst eyes bored into Thayet’s hazel ones, and her pupils were wide and dark.
“Thayet, it’s all right, really. It's just... a lot to think about.” Alanna took a deep breath, and didn’t let go of Thayet’s hands. Her gaze flicked down to Thayet's lips, and then she dropped Thayet’s hands as if they burnt her. “I’ll… I’ll talk to George. Thank you. Good-bye.” She dropped into a low bow, turned tail, and pelted out back towards the stables as if Mithros’s own chariot was behind her.
Well, Thayet thought to herself. That could have gone better.
~
“She openly propositioned me, George,” Alanna snapped. She was dressed as Alan again. Having doffed her armor, she'd made straight for the Dancing Dove and seized George by the hand, who waggled his eyebrows at his bemused patrons as he allowed himself to be dragged upstairs. Now, he sat and watched his betrothed pace and spit like an angry cat.
“It’s far from the first time you’ve been propositioned,” George pointed out. “Not even the first time you’ve been propositioned by royalty. What’s so different about this time?”
“Well––well, she’s the gods-blessed queen, is what’s different!”
“And Jon’s the king, and you’re the King’s Champion, and I’m the Baron of Pirate’s Swoop. What of it?” Alanna seethed and made no reply. “Tell me true. Have you never been with a woman?”
“When would I have had time to do that?” Alanna exploded. She knew in a far-off part of herself that what she was feeling wasn’t anger at all, but she didn’t know how else she could possibly let it get out of her.
“No, not once in all that time you spent playing dress-up with the flower sellers? All that longing gazing was for naught?”
“I was not gazing longingly! I wanted to––it was jealousy, that’s all!”
George snorted. “Oh, so you, Alanna of Trebond and Olau, wanted big round bouncing breasts and wide birthing hips? You, who still binds your breasts down more days than not and prefers breeches to a skirt? Who gets unaccountably upset whenever you wear a gown for a little too long? You wanted your body to look like theirs?”
Alanna finally stopped pacing. “I don’t––George, it’s not right for me to look at women like––like you’re saying.”
“D’you feel it’s all right for me to look at men like that?”
“Of course! I know the way you and Jon are together is really truly wonderful for you, and I’d never begrudge you that. And I’ve fought duels with the sort of men who kick up a fuss about men being with men and women being with women––they’re the same people who’d sooner lock their daughters in towers than let them raise a shield. It’s just––I couldn’t––“ To her horror, she felt tears prick in her eyes and threaten to cut off her speech.
“Oh, my love,” George stood up and wrapped her in his arms. “Think about it for just a moment. Don’t entertain any ‘shoulds’ or ‘shouldn’ts.’ Do you want to?”
Alanna took a deep, shaky breath, swallowing the lump in her throat. She thought about Thayet's lips, stretched into a conspiratorial grin. How the breadth of her shoulders pulled at her tunic when she stood to draw her bow. The way the spirit would seize her when she was riding and she'd charge ahead, shriek a war cry, her face alight with violent glee. And when they'd bathed together in the women's baths afterwards, the sway of Thayet's breasts as she rubbed oil into her long, black hair... the patch of darkness visible between her legs as she'd pulled her knees up to sit on the bench.... From the safety of her lover's arms, Alanna allowed herself to imagine, finally, what she'd beaten down all the long months she'd known her friend; allowed herself to picture those lips swollen and bitten, how it might feel to grip those shoulders, touch the slick warmth radiating between those legs. Alanna's body felt hot and nervous in a way that she knew was familiar.
She whispered over George’s shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. “Maybe. I don't know. I think.... Maybe I do.”
George pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Whatever you want, my lass. Anything you want.”
~
Two weeks later, in an upstairs room at the Dancing Dove, Alanna suddenly didn’t feel so sure about what she wanted. Her stomach roiled with nerves, and she scowled. I’ve fought giants, she reminded herself. I’ve faced down undead wizards and stood naked before all the nobility of Tortall. I survived the Ordeal, for all the gods’ sakes! I am not afraid of a little…sex. The pinching feeling in her chest subsided somewhat, but she still felt a slight wobble in her knees as George opened the door to admit Thayet, in her guise as a priestess of the Goddess. Jon had already arrived, and was perched on the foot of the bed, looking wooden. George locked the door behind Thayet, who threw off her hood.
“Well, isn’t this a lively party! You two look like you’re awaiting the gallows,” she declared, nodding at Jon and Alanna, who flushed in perfect sync.
“What are we possibly to do with them?” George asked in mock disappointment. Thayet laughed, her eyes glittering.
“Oh, I have a couple of ideas.” She bustled around, arranging a couple of wide, cushioned wooden chairs to one side of the bed, pouring a couple glasses of wine, and mussing Jon’s hair. He leaned into her hand, and gazed up at her so dopily that Alanna couldn’t help but giggle. Thayet’s activity broke the tension somewhat, and Alanna crossed the room to squeeze George’s hand.
“Now,” Thayet declared. “You boys just pretend we aren’t even here. Us girls will simply… mind our own business.” She gave a roguish wink, and Alanna flushed. Thayet grabbed Alanna’s hand and ushered her to one of the chairs. “Lioness," she said in an undertone, giving Alanna a calculating look. "I want to fuck you.” Crimson, avoiding her eyes, Alanna nodded. Thayet tutted and grabbed Alanna’s chin, turning her head to meet her gaze. “I’m not going to do anything interesting if you keep acting like you’d rather disappear.” Alanna’s eyes flicked to Thayet’s lips again, and Thayet’s face softened. “What do you want?”
Alanna let out a breath and said, “I just have never done this before and I don’t want to make a fool of myself, is all.”
Thayet smiled. “You just follow my lead, King's Champion. Can you do that for me?"
Alanna sat up a little straighter. "Yes."
“Excellent. Take off your tunic for me?” Alanna fumbled with the laces and stripped down. Her breasts were bound down with a soft cotton wrap. “Would you rather leave the binding on?”
“Yes, for now at least.”
“Good. What say we watch what the gentlemen are up to for a moment?”
Across the room, Jon and George had been conducting their own conversation in undertones. Jon had been as visibly nervous as Alanna, but now he and George were chuckling over something the ladies couldn’t hear. George nodded over at them, and Jon glanced up, his piercing blue gaze meeting Thayet’s eyes, and then Alanna’s. Alanna was reminded of exactly why they’d been lovers before. The laces of his shirt were undone, the hard muscles of his chest exposed almost to the navel. George stood up from where he and Jon were sitting on the bed, and ran and hand through Jon’s hair. Jon leaned into the obviously-familiar touch, then stripped off his shirt, tossing the linen into a corner. George ran his hand down across Jon’s cheek, dragging his thumb over Jon’s lips, which parted obligingly. Then George dipped two of his fingers into Jon’s open mouth. Jon let out a quiet little noise as he pulled them deeper, laving his tongue over and between them. A smile curled at the corner of George’s lips, and he quirked his fingers in Jon’s mouth. Alanna, who knew exactly what those fingers were mimicking, shivered. A few quick thrusts, and George withdrew his hand, twisted it into the hair at the nape of Jon’s neck, and pulled him into a searing kiss. “Mmh––“ Jon moaned into George’s mouth as George’s hand found the join of his breeches, caressing the hardness he found there.
Alanna was so absorbed that she jumped when Thayet’s hand found her thigh. She snuck a look at Thayet’s face, but Thayet seemed focused entirely on the scenario on the bed. She rubbed soothing circles over Alanna’s knee almost to the joint of her hip, and Alanna relaxed again.
Jon’s hips were chasing George’s hand by the time he broke the kiss, gasping a little, glassy-eyed. Both men still wore their breeches, which by now were doing precious little to hide the heavy hardness of their cocks within.
“George, will you strip down?” Jon murmured.
George chuckled in response. “You want to get on your knees for me, laddybuck?” Jon mumbled something. “No, I want to hear you say it.”
“Please, I want to taste your cock.” A high flush mantled Jon’s cheeks and spread down his chest. His hands opened and closed.
George grinned, lazy and catlike. “Good,” he drawled. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Jon’s breeches were on the ground before George’s shirt had even made it over his head. Jon’s body was broader than Alanna remembered it, with a few more scars interrupting the pale of his torso. The muscles of his arms corded as he clenched his fists impatiently. When George moved to unlace his breeches, Jon beat him to it, fumbling to untie the knots and slide the garment down over his knees. As George sat down and leaned back onto his elbows, Jon knelt almost reverently before him. George’s cock fell back against his stomach, full and curved and heavy. Jon wet his lips as he eyed it, running his hands up and down George’s thighs and over his toned stomach. George’s abdominal muscles tensed, and he glanced over to the ladies, giving them a teasing wink. “Like what you see––oh.”
George’s eyes closed and his head fell back as Jon closed his lips over the tip of his cock, rubbing his thumb along the shaft as his other hand gripped George’s hip. His eyes were closed, and his brow furrowed a little in concentration as he swirled his tongue over the head. His lips stretched wide as he dipped to take more of George’s cock down his throat, and Alanna raised her eyebrows, impressed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed. George groaned low in his throat, and a thrill rippled through Alanna’s stomach.
She heard Thayet shift next to her and looked over to see the queen gazing through heavy-lidded eyes at her husband on his knees. Her left hand still rubbed steady circles onto Alanna’s thigh, but her right was between her legs, which pressed tightly together. Alanna’s mouth went dry as another bolt of lightning went through her stomach, and now it was her turn to shift on the chair, feeling her lower lips slide against each other in their slickness. On the bed, Jon’s lips smacked obscenely as he kissed down the side of George’s cock, one hand cupping his balls, George’s hand twisted in his hair. The laces of his breeches were open and his own hard cock jutted up between his legs, red and drooling at the tip. Alanna was suddenly too hot. She didn’t know where to look. Suddenly Thayet’s hand gripped her inner thigh, and Alanna whipped around.
“Stop thinking, lady knight,” her friend whispered, sliding out of her chair and sinking to her knees before Alanna. “Let me help you.”
How they got Alanna’s breeches off remains a mystery to Alanna to this day, but the next moment they were flung across the room as Thayet pulled Alanna to the edge of the chair and spread her legs. Alanna’s knee bounced uncontrollably––she’d only let George get eye level with her cunt once before––but Thayet was gazing at it with undisguised hunger. Thayet licked a stripe onto Alanna’s inner thigh, and Alanna almost leapt out of her seat. Thayet squeezed her thighs, grounding her. “How do you like it?”
“Um,” Alanna said intelligently. “Whatever you feel like, rea––aah!” She gasped as Thayet ran her tongue in one long stripe up Alanna’s slit.
“You just watch your man,” Thayet purred. “I’ll take care of you.” She pulled Alanna’s hand from where it gripped the arm of the chair, guided it into her mane of black hair, and got to the business of teasing. Alanna felt like a lute that had been strung too tightly, swallowing back little whines and gasps as Thayet sucked a mark onto her inner thigh, pressed her tongue along her outer lips, and licked her drooling inner lips apart. As Thayet’s tongue probed at her entrance, Alanna whined, canting her hips up, pressing her deeper.
“Gods, Thayet, please––“ She could almost feel Thayet’s wicked grin against her cunt as, maddeningly, she withdrew. Alanna moaned and thrust her hips against nothing, chasing some kind of friction.
“Patience is a virtue, Lioness,” Thayet scolded, wiping her face against Alanna’s thigh. “Tell me what our boys are up to.”
As Thayet nuzzled once more between Alanna’s legs, Alanna did her utmost to follow orders.
“Jon’s lying on the bed, on his back. George is––oh––he’s perched over him, and he’s got one hand pinning both of Jon’s wrists together over his head and––and––ohhh, gods, Thayet, keep g––ah!” Thayet had nipped Alanna’s thigh.
“Don’t spare the detail, soldier.”
“George’s right hand is…. he’s got his middle finger in––“ Jon interjected with a keening moan. “Ahh, yess, he’s––he’s curling it, like you would for a woman, and––nngh––Jon’s rutting his hips, pushing his fingers deeper inside––Thayet, his cock is so hard, it’s leaking and twitching and George isn’t even touching it––“
Thayet moaned into Alanna’s cunt, and Alanna looked down at her again. Thayet’s hand was working furiously between her legs, pressing and rubbing over her breeches, and Alanna was nearly undone there.
“Gods, Thayet, let me see you, please,” she gasped, and Thayet didn’t even bother to respond, fumbling with the ties on her own breeches as Alanna worked the shirt over her head. She couldn’t help but stop for a moment to look at her queen in all her glory, her eyes flashing, all creamy golden skin, her breasts full and heavy. The tangle of hair between her legs wasn’t quite thick enough to hide where her labia flared out behind the thick jut of her clit.
“I want to touch you,” Alanna declared fervently, and Thayet grinned.
“By all means.”
Now it was Thayet’s turn to take the chair, and for once, Alanna was glad for her lack of height. It meant that Thayet could watch the show while Alanna straddled her lap, kissing down her neck, licking at her collarbone, and finally pressing her fingers into the softness of Thayet’s breasts, rubbing a thumb over her rigid nipple as Thayet gasped and sighed below her. Under Alanna’s ministrations, Thayet’s hips ground against the chair, helplessly seeking stimulation. Just when Thayet thought she’d have to take matters into her own hands again, Alanna slid off her lap and knelt before her.
“Tell me what you like,” Alanna demanded.
“Gods, anything,” Thayet sighed, her eyes fixed on George and Jon as they moved in tandem. “Touch me how you like to be touched, and I’ll let you know.” Alanna fought down a brief befuddlement at the angles of it all and ran her index finger down the length of Thayet’s slit. The woman shivered above her, and, emboldened, Alanna spread her outer lips to lick along her vulva. Guided by Thayet’s husky moans and occasional directions––softer, let your tongue spread out more; try to press, not poke––Alanna began to lap at her cunt in earnest, and when she closed her lips over the shaft of Thayet’s engorged clit, she felt the woman clench down and heard her voice break on a high moan. There we go, she thought. I know how to do this. She swirled her tongue over Thayet’s clit the way Jon had done with George’s cock, sucking quickly and then slowly again, soothing it with broad, gentle licks. Thayet’s legs locked around her head, blocking her hearing almost completely. All she could perceive was the rutting of Thayet’s hips against her face, her fingers twisting in Alanna’s hair, and the occasional vibration of a moan.
An idly-wandering portion of Alanna’s mind mused that judging by how it felt, Alanna was pretty sure her own clit was a barely-there little bud, whereas Thayet’s was very prominent and visibly erect. If they had been born men, would Thayet have been very well endowed? Alanna rather liked that thought. She shelved it to peruse later.
Thayet’s thrusts grew quicker, and Alanna decided to try something. She wriggled her hand up between Thayet’s legs, which parted accommodatingly, and pressed two fingertips down near her entrance. She looked up into Thayet’s face. She looked wrecked, her lips red and bitten, her chest flushed and her hair in disarray. She was utterly magnificent, for the second that Alanna could see her face before Alanna curled her fingers into Thayet’s cunt and Thayet threw her head back, thighs clamping around Alanna’s head again.
Alanna took a moment to give thanks for the years of finger strength drills as she worked from inside the vise of a lifelong horsewoman’s thighs. She didn’t have to work for long. With Alanna’s lips around Thayet’s clit and her fingers pulsing at the spot inside her that made her spine tingle, it was mere moments before Thayet’s legs slackened, her hips stuttered, and her hands grew so tight in Alanna’s hair that she was pulled away from where she had begun to very much enjoy herself between Thayet’s legs.
Thayet dropped back against the chair, looking utterly satisfied. As Alanna stood, wiping her face, Thayet grinned, open-mouthed and panting. “Oh, well done, you.”
“I live to serve, my liege,” Alanna replied impishly. Thayet flapped a hand at her.
“Sit down. Don’t think I’m not going to finish you off, I just… need a minute.”
The scene on the bed hadn’t progressed quite as much as Alanna had imagined. Jon lay on his stomach now, head turned to face the two ladies. His face looked utterly wrecked. His eyes were screwed shut, sweat slicked stripes of his black hair onto his forehead, and a scarlet flush lay over his cheeks. Both of his arms were twisted behind his back, where George pinned them to the small of Jon's back with his left hand. His right was slowly, tantalizingly thrusting three fingers into Jon, who arched his back against them and whined, desperate for friction. As George withdrew, Jon's hips pulsed forward, rutting his aching cock against the bedsheets. George leaned forward, dragging his own cock against the cleft of Jon's ass, and whispered something against Jon's ear that made him shiver, his hips spasming again.
“Ah, welcome back, lass,” George flashed a smile at Alanna. “Thought we’d hold off for you. Wouldn’t want you to miss the main event.”
“You’re too kind, sir,” Alanna replied sardonically. “Please, show the man a little mercy.”
“What do you think, your Maj?”
Thayet waved an imperious hand. “By all means, my lord.”
George reached for a corked vial at the bedside, popped it open one-handed, and poured a dribble of oil down onto his own cock where it hung heavy between his legs. His eyelids fluttered and he voiced a cut-off grunt as he rubbed the oil in, thumbing over the head and down the shaft, just a little longer than necessary. Alanna realized with a little thrill that George was just as worked up as Jon––he was just hiding it quite a bit better.
“Are you with me, Jonny-boy?”
Jon’s eyes flickered open and he smiled crookedly. “You’re getting slow in your––aahhh!” George thrust into Jon to the hilt in one long stroke, and Jon’s eyes rolled back in his head. As George set a rhythm with short, deep thrusts, Jon, panting, reached for his drooling cock only for George to slap his hand away.
“None of that. T’won’t do for your lady wife to see you give up so easy.”
Jon whined, but his hands went to his sides, twisting into the bedsheets. He canted his hips up to meet George’s thrusts, the slap of their joined bodies loud in the quiet room. Thayet tore her eyes away to look back at Alanna.
“I owe you one, Lioness.”
Alanna didn’t argue. She scooted forward and spread her legs again, and Thayet dropped back into position before her. This time, though, her fingers found Alanna’s slit, carding through the hair there, cupping the heel of her palm over her clit, kneading at either side of her entrance. Alanna whined low in her throat, dripping slick onto the chair, her eyes never leaving where George’s cock disappeared into Jon, how Jon's hips stuttered, torn between forcing George's cock still deeper inside of him and seeking blessed relief for his own erection against the mattress. Alanna knew how he felt.
“Inside, Thayet, please,” she begged. Thayet’s smile was near monstrous as she hummed in mock indecision, wound her fingers through Alanna's pubic hair, and tugged, making Alanna hiss and wriggle in response, rutting her clit against the heel of her hand.
“Since you asked so nicely.” And then she sank two fingers into Alanna’s cunt and curled. Alanna gasped, then sobbed as Thayet set a brutal pace, fucking into Alanna with a beckoning motion that made Alanna see stars. She forced her eyes open, determined not to miss a moment of the lurid tableau laid out before her even as she writhed, her hips moving without her consent against Thayet's hand, chasing more, deeper, harder.
On the bed, George’s thrusts were growing erratic. He pulled Jon onto his side, exposing Jon's belly to where the ladies sat, his neglected cock straight as a spear and flushed nearly purple, slapping against his stomach with every thrust. Finally, finally, George reached over and wrapped a hand around Jon’s cock, and Jon nearly shouted, leaking precum in a gush. “Oh, ohh... gods, George…” Jon pistoned his hips between George’s hand and cock in an agony of pleasure. George’s only reply was a growl, bottoming out for two, three deep strokes as he spent himself inside his king. Jon followed a moment later, tears leaking down his cheeks.
That was the last thing Alanna saw before she closed her eyes and succumbed to the waves of pleasure building inside of her, Thayet mouthing at her clit while her fingers twisted in her cunt.
~
The rest of the evening was spent in relative quiet. Jon was nearly insensate for ten minutes afterward; by contrast, Thayet was bursting with energy. George wouldn’t brook any discussion until he’d gotten Jon to drink a cup of water and arrange himself against a pile of pillows, still stark naked. He smiled dreamily from where his head rested on his wife’s shoulder, with George and Alanna cross-legged, closing the circle on the bed.
“Well!” Thayet declared. “I’d say that went all right.” Alanna raised her cup in agreement, still a little dazed.
George smiled like a shark. “You know how to get a message to me when you want to go again.”
Afterwards there would be time for complicated feelings, and gentle ribbing, and Thayet's insufferably smug grin, but for that night, the foursome slept soundly in borrowed bedsheets and lovers' arms.