The London Sonnets

Her excursion to the various art dealers finished sooner than Joyce had expected, so she had decided to get her souvenir shopping out of the way before returning to the room. Pushing open the door, she hoped Rupert hadn’t been too bored stuck in the room alone for the past few hours.

The precariously balanced bags hit the floor with a thud. Two heads turned to look at her. While Rupert looked quite embarrassed, Ethan just grinned like the cat who ate the canary.

Joyce leaned back against the door, shutting it as she took in the scene before her. Ethan sat propped up against the headboard with Rupert between his legs. Well, this was something new. Naked and glistening in the afternoon light, it looked like Ethan had been there for some time.

Finding her voice, “Don’t stop on my account,” she said.

Rupert blinked.

“You heard the lady,” Ethan said pointedly to Rupert.

Rupert hesitated, then with a shrug turned his attentions back to Ethan.

“Oh,” Joyce couldn’t help the moan that escaped at seeing them like this. They looked so good together, complemented one another perfectly.

Eyes scanning over their bodies, Joyce noticed that Ethan was covered with a number of reddish marks along his neck, shoulders, and upper chest. And his right cheek appeared to be slightly swollen. She would have to ask about that . . . later. But for right now, she just watched. Rupert’s head bobbing as he brought the other man off, and Ethan’s head thrown back, eyes closed. Both now oblivious to her presence.

Ethan’s face twisted, and a quiet cry of “Rupert” passed his lips as he came.

After finishing him off, Rupert sat back and watched Ethan come down. “So?” he asked.

“A bit rusty,” Ethan smirked, “but not terrible.”

“Prick.”

Joyce felt like she was intruding. The two men seemed more at ease with one another than she had ever seen them. They must have really worked things out. Last night she was certain the only reason they kept the peace as they did was because of her. It had been a tentative peace at best. Ethan must have come back to finish things. From the marks on him, she would wager Ripper had made an appearance. But whatever had transpired, the outcome seemed to be favorable.

“Are you going to stand there all day, Joyce?” Ethan broke into her thoughts, voice light.

“I, um . . .” Rupert was looking at her as well. Eyes brown and gray blinked patiently, waiting for her response. God, they were beautiful. “Just that I . . .”

And then they were off the bed, walking toward her. Joyce leaned further against the door for support as they approached.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said as Ethan slunk up to her.

He leaned close, making Joyce very aware of how naked he was. “How could I stay away, knowing you were in town?”

She eyed Rupert, who now stood on her right. “Couldn’t wait for me?”

“You honestly think he would let me?” he smirked.

“Leaving the poor man to his own devices,” Ethan tsked, licking lightly at her ear, “you should be ashamed, Joyce. Had I not shown up, Ripper may have died from sheer boredom.”

“Can’t have that,” she sighed as Rupert began to nibble her other ear.

“A good day for business?” Ethan asked, hand grazing up under her sweater.

“Mm, very good,” she said as he began to toy lightly with her breast.

In the meantime, Rupert had unbuttoned her slacks and was now teasing over her satin covered heat.

“No surprises today?” Rupert asked with disappointment.

“I didn’t think it would be appropriate for conducting business.”

“Ah,” he said, fingers dancing lower, massaging her already swollen arousal through the thin fabric.

Ethan unhooked her bra, hands working across her bare skin.

Too much clothing, she groaned inwardly. She needed to feel them both. Joyce tried to remove her sweater, but Ethan and Rupert stilled her.

“Shh, let us.”

Together their hands moved up her body, leaving a tingling heat behind. They each braced an arm over her head, their free hands lifting the neck out and off of her. The sweater slid off the rest of the way with agonizing slowness. They kept her arms pinned above her, free hands working in conjunction to remove her pants and underwear.

Joyce kicked off her shoes and shimmied the garments down onto the floor.

The two naked male bodies pressed close, the flesh on flesh contact exquisite.

Then they were kissing along her jaw line, down her neck, and across her collarbone to each other. The men kissed with the fevered passion they always seemed to have for one another, but the sense of battle was missing. They weren’t competing but enjoying.

Erections throbbing against her fevered flesh, Joyce twitched with need. Something was different between them and she wanted to share in that.

“Make love to me,” she whispered, voice already hoarse with desire.

The kiss stopped and they looked at her, seeking clarification.

“Both of you, please.”

Making their way to the bed, Joyce knelt in the center with Ethan in front and Rupert behind. She held Ethan’s gaze steadily as Rupert worked his way inside with as much caution and care as he had shown her the afternoon before.

“I want you to see how it makes me feel to have you both inside me,” she told Ethan, delicately tracing the lines on his face.

She gave a soft grunt as Rupert pushed in. Ethan captured her lips, tongue tasting her languidly, coercing a response in kind and thus distracting her as Rupert sheathed himself fully.

Rupert pressed firm against her back, coarse hairs tickling her sensitive skin. Not breaking the kiss, she began to guide Ethan inside.

“Still feels good, doesn’t it? Worth finding alternatives?” she breathed.

“As if I needed a reminder,” he sighed against her lips. “So much better.”

“How do you feel, Joyce?” Rupert asked softly, lips grazing her ear.

“Full,” she replied. And then they began to move, stretching and pressing just so. The three let out mutual moans as Rupert and Ethan rubbed against each other inside Joyce.

“Better than the first time,” she rocked with them as they built toward climax. “God, Rupert . . . Ethan . . .” their names became a chant driving them on higher and faster, pleasure growing until all three came with screams of ecstasy.

Three breaths became one as they came down together, supporting one another, no longer separate but whole.


Joyce lay in the center of the bed, restrained only by a blindfold. She waited, body thrumming as Ethan and Rupert move about the room trying to confuse her, keep her guessing as to which of them was where at any one time.

Ethan had made the suggestion in the first place and Joyce had readily agreed, knowing that the payoff would be well worth the frustration she’d feel, was feeling.

The bed gave as they joined her. Joyce had been counting on Rupert’s somewhat larger build aiding her in her guessing. She should have known better.

Her skin tingled as the first touch. Deprived of sight, and with them making so little sound, it was the only sensation she had at the moment. Lips on either side began working their way up her arms. Joyce thought she would be able to tell them apart, both men having a slightly different way of doing this. Ethan was more sensual, building her, drawing her higher. While Rupert always seemed to worship her skin. Maybe her mind had created the difference, because, not knowing who was who, she couldn’t tell the difference.

Stopping at her shoulders, her lovers backed off, moving away to the far side of the room.

“Which was which, my dear?” Ethan asked, voice silky smooth.

“You were on the left and Rupert on the right,” she ventured, uncertainty obvious to her own ears.

She waited until she felt their weight on the bed again, but the blindfold remained on. Joyce had guess incorrectly. The concept had seemed easy enough at first, but now… Initially she planned on guessing wrong on purpose. That was before she realized what a challenge this would be.

“Let’s make things a bit more interesting,” Ethan suggested after the fourth wrong guess.

“What did you have in mind?” Rupert asked.

Joyce sighed in frustration. Body thrumming, the last thing she wanted was for them to make things more interesting, since more interesting meant more difficult for her.

“A wager,” Ethan said simply.

“Over?”

“Which one of us Joyce guesses correctly least often. One at a time of course,” he added.

“Least often? Don’t you mean most?” Rupert inquired.

“Least is the more difficult way to go.”

“You two talk way too much for your own good,” Joyce harrumphed, lifting the blindfold to glare at them as she sat up. “A lady could be forced to take matters into her own hands.”

“I told you before, I have no problem watching,” Rupert grinned wickedly.

Joyce heaved a pillow at him.

“The outcome could be fun,” Ethan said with a smile. “Wouldn’t that be worth giving it a try?”

“Depends on what the stakes are,” she replied, intrigued.

“How about seeing Ripper in leather?” he offered.

“Now wait just a minute! I—” Rupert started to protest.

“Ok, you have my attention,” Joyce cut him off.

“Since my friend here owes me some new clothes, I believe that a shopping trip seems to be in order,” Ethan stated. “The winner of this competition, should you agree to participate, Joyce, will dress the loser for a night on the town.”

“And you’ll make Rupert wear leather?”

“Yes.”

She turned to Rupert, “And if you win?”

“When, you mean,” Rupert said evenly. “Tweed.”

Ethan winced. “I will not be caught dead in tweed.”

“Nor I in leather pants.”

“I never said leather *pants*, but now that you mention it . . .” Ethan trailed off, making Rupert wince.

“Seems you both have ample motivation to win,” Joyce laughed. “I think I might enjoy this.”

“Agreed?” Ethan held out his hand.

Rupert shook it. “Why do I even try?”

“Game hasn’t even begun and you’re already giving up?” Ethan queried with a hopeful note.

“Hardly,” Rupert frowned.

“Well then, shall we?” Joyce asked and they nodded. Retying the blindfold, she lay back to wait. She had to make sure Ethan won without being too obvious. Seeing Rupert in leather pants was something too rare to pass up.

Ethan and Rupert taking turns should have made it easier to guess which one was which, allow Joyce better focus. So much for trying to rig the game. Either she was too far gone or they were just that good at mimicking each other. Caresses and kisses oddly indistinguishable from one man to the other. Each time as she waited, Joyce tried to clear her mind, review what she knew of the two men. But when the new round began, comparison of what she knew to what was going on was impossible.

If only they would use their hands. Rupert’s were battle-worn rough but loving in gentle caresses, while Ethan’s were smooth but powerful, restrained and worshipful. But they were not using their hands, just lips and tongues and a bit of teeth. Kissing, licking, nibbling her body until all she was nothing but the sensation of them on her.

While coherent thought was misty at best, Joyce realized she kept guessing Rupert and rarely Ethan. She couldn’t think clearly enough to cheat, and it all felt like Rupert.

Lips whispered down her stomach, reciting poetry, sweet nothings, incantations . . . she couldn’t tell and didn’t care. It felt too wonderful to define. Down farther until a tongue playfully teased apart her lower lips and began to work her clit into greater arousal. Tongue darting into her center, lapping at moist heat . . . Joyce writhed, seeking closer contact, but the man pulled away.

Soon Ethan’s tenor cut through the rushing blood in her ears, “Who?”

Joyce groaned. This was almost worse than his “one more time” during tantric sex. He could be infuriating. If she didn’t know better, she would think Ethan enjoyed making her suffer like this. Albeit it enjoyable suffering, but still . . . “I don’t know,” she said tersely.

She heard a pair of rough chuckles.

“This is ridiculous,” she grumbled. “Can’t you just call it a draw?”

“Technically Ethan’s win—” Rupert stopped. “Bollocks.”

“I think you are the who who needs to learn to keep your mouth shut,” Ethan laughed. “Seems to get you into more trouble than mine does me.”

Bickering like two old women yet again. It drove a woman to distraction. Speaking of distraction, Joyce’s hands moved low picking up where her last lover had left off. It wasn’t the same, but that didn’t mean it was bad. She needed some form of release, and if Rupert and Ethan weren’t going to oblige, well then she’d have to fend for herself.

Fingers slid easily along aided by her arousal. Slipping inside herself, Joyce worked to bring herself off. If nothing else, her time with the men this year had taught her a lot about her own body and just what it needed for satisfaction. Thumb on clit, two fingers curled and pressing just right. Silky heat wrapping softly around her fingers—it wasn’t just what she was doing but how she felt to herself that pushed Joyce closer to the edge. She arched of the bed, sighing with relief as she came, room silent except for the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

Finally calmed enough, Joyce removed the blindfold and grinned at the awestruck looks on her lovers’ faces. Looked like their bickering wasn’t all-consuming after all. And from their twitching erections, she could tell they had very much enjoyed the show.

“Jesus, Joyce, you are amazing,” Rupert breathed finally.

“I think we’ve created a monster,” Ethan murmured appreciatively.

Joyce got up from the bed and walked toward them. She wrapped a hand around each of their straining cocks, stroking lightly as she spoke. “Would leather really be so bad?” she asked Rupert, increasing the pressure slightly.

“If Ethan’s picking it out, yes,” he replied, voiced strained.

Focusing her attentions on Ethan.

“As long as Ripper foots the bill, I could restrain myself,” Ethan leaned close and nuzzled her neck.

“Ethan and restraint,” Rupert laughed as he copied Ethan’s actions on her right side, “that I would pay to see.”

“That’s the whole point Ripper,” Ethan said. “I *can* restrain myself with the proper incentive.”
Joyce rolled her eyes; they were starting again. “Are you two ever going to shut up? Maybe you’d rather be alone,” she said, pulling away.

She didn’t get far before she found herself pinned between two passion-heated male bodies, Ethan behind and Rupert before. Joyce leaned her head back next to Ethan’s as Rupert kissed along her throat.

“Poor, Joyce, we’ve neglected you, haven’t we, my dear?” Ethan breathed, hands skating soothingly over her body as Rupert kissed ever lower. “We’ve spent too much time alone with each other today.”

“You’re blaming Joyce?” Rupert managed to sound incredulous while peppering kisses passionately over her stomach, tongue briefly teasing her navel before moving on.

“She did leave you alone to fend for yourself. If I hadn’t been around to take advantage, who knows what may have happened,” Ethan retorted, all the while kissing the most sensitive spots on Joyce’s ears and neck.

They were still bickering, but at least they seemed capable of multitasking. Her annoyance at the banter was greatly offset by the lavish attention they were paying her while they argued. If they had tried this sooner, she would have let them bicker the day away and not said a thing.

“Oh god, Rupert,” she sighed gratefully as Rupert’s tongue wiggled its way inside her. His hands stroked calmingly along her thighs as he built her to a frenzy. Ethan’s own ministrations, nipping along her neck, drove her on, causing her to simultaneously press back against Ethan as she arched toward Rupert.

“I thought that was reserved for me,” Ethan said silkily, rolling her nipples just so. He must have seen her confusion, “Against Rupert’s wall . . . I thought I was ‘Oh god.’”

She couldn’t reply. Rupert had redoubled his efforts, leaving her speechless.

“How deep in is he, Joyce? How do you think he feels to have your hot folds wrapping tightly around him, pul him him farther in, seeking more of that rich exotic flavor that is only you?” Ethan began rocking with her, moving in time with Rupert, cock pressed firmly against her ass, pulsing blood enhancing her pleasure. “I envy Rupert, my dear, to be giving you such pleasure and savoring every moment. I wish I were in his position, and he in mine, but I can’t look away as he works. There is something beautiful in his movements, entrancing. Do you see the art in the way he fucks you so?”

Joyce managed to open her eyes and peer down. Rupert’s head bobbing, buried between her thighs. The sight sent her shuddering over the edge, overwhelmed with both sight and sensation.

She blinked dazedly as Rupert stood up in front of her, looking satisfied. Sated, Joyce still felt her body respond. She just couldn’t get enough.

Seeming to sense this, Ethan swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Setting her down, he lay next to her, brushing her wild hair out of her face.

“Enchanting,” he said, voice hushed.

The intensity of his gaze stirred something deep within her. There was something so naked in the look it almost hurt. Unable to bear any more, she pulled him to her, kissing him with unrestrained passion.

She ended the kiss. Huskily she asked, “Will you make love to me while Rupert is in you?”

“You need to ask?” he grinned. “Are you ready?”

“Always,” she said, kissing him again as he positioned himself for entry.

Shifting her hips, Joyce took him in as far as he could possibly go and then held him as Rupert made ready to enter into Ethan. Joyce matched her breathing to Ethan’s while they waited, amazed at how much more she felt things, how much more open she was. Rupert’s entrance into Ethan reverberated through to her, eliciting a quiet moan from her in response.

All three joined finally, they began to move in a primal rhythm. They kissed each other alternately, one mouth trying to enjoy the most from the other two. Six hands moved over sweat-sheened, sex-glistening bodies. They clung tightly to each other as friction grew, pushing them on until Joyce felt her lovers tense as climax took them. She came last, screaming their names reverently.

Now she could rest content.