[Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, May-December, Consensual BDSM, sex toys]
Marco Giovanni adores his wife Suzy and he loves her enough to let her go, taking extreme measures to protect her. Faking his own death, Marco runs away from the checkered past he’s always tried to hide. He leaves behind a letter asking his brother to protect and love Suzy.
Alanzo Giovanni knows Suzy is the only woman for him. When his brother dies, and long before he realizes Marco’s death is a hoax, Alanzo tells Suzy they belong together. Battling inner demons, Suzy drowns in her sorrow, unsure if she can take another chance on finding happiness.
By the time Marco resurfaces, Alanzo and Suzy are weathering the storm of a rocky love affair. In the end a new love emerges, and the ménage relationship Suzy has always wanted is suddenly within her reach.
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Alanzo remained calm. “Do you even know what you want, Suzy?” His dark eyes scoured over me and I took the lead. Maybe I shouldn’t have but at the same time, I had wants and desires, needs as a woman. I pushed back my robe and felt the bounce in my breasts when I threw my arms down to my sides.
Exasperated, I exclaimed, “Yes, Alanzo. I do! I want you. Damn it to hell, I don’t want to need you, but here I stand all the same. I found you irresistible when Marco was alive but somehow resisted you. I hated myself for refusing to ask him, but at the same time, I should’ve taken the plunge. I should’ve told him how I felt and asked him to bring you into our relationship. We could’ve had a good life together, the three of us and now…”
He took a few cautious steps and looped his arm around my waist. “And now what, sweetheart?”
A sob broke free and the tears followed. “And now it’s just me and you. I should feel guilty. I should feel ashamed, but when I look at you all I want to do is hold you…and…”
His mouth crashed against mine and his tongue worked its way into the depths of my mouth, kissing away the last of my words. Those were the syllables I didn’t need to utter. He caressed my behind with one hand while the other cupped my breast, catching the fullness and drawing my nipple to his lips.
He left my chest and kissed a moist path straight down my stomach, backing against the stool in front of the dressing table before taking a seat. Eye level to my belly button, he brought my leg forward, encouraging the bend. Then, dragging my body to his, he kissed my mound with soft, hungry lips. His meaty tongue dipped inside my folds for a split second.
Gasping when that was all he offered, I eyed him, wondering why he changed his mind. With my hand working its way through his hair, I waited for him to explain why he stopped.
Alanzo patted the marble top vanity. “Sit here.”
Enough said. Swallowing hard, I allowed him to help me take a seat, feeling like a china doll he’d just placed on a shelf. My legs parted when my feet hit the cushion topping the bench.
His hot gaze lingered at my pussy. Pressing my hand against his cheek, I slid my palm down his rough beard and, in doing so, positioned his head right where I wanted it.
I needed him to lick me. I wanted him to taste my sex and lap at me like he’d waited days, weeks, months, and, yes, even years, to devour me. And he had. We’d both waited for the right time.
Wrong as it may have been, now was the right time.
“Ah, Suzy,” he whispered, nuzzling my leg before inching closer to my opening. “Ah, sweet Suzy. You’re so perfect.” He said, smacking his lips over my clit. “That’s my girl. Let me have you just like this.”
Those were the last words I heard him speak until after I rode one climax, and then my body slammed right into another. Afterward, his fingers and lips commanded one more while his guttural sounds turned into carnal and explicit words of encouragement. It was then that I realized Alanzo Giovanni would continue to be in my life for a very long time.
* * * *
Receiving oral sex from Alanzo was like free falling from the highest point found in any open sky. His tongue plunged deep and right when my orgasm rolled over me, he sank still deeper, flicking the tip of his tongue so rapidly I thought I’d die from the sensation alone. The rush was exhilarating, but the fall right before another building climactic moment proved indescribable.
A man in his twenties shouldn’t have been allowed to push a woman in her forties to such limits. His tongue should’ve had a warning label attached to the tip, maybe even a white flag, or better still…an ear-piercing alarm.
One time with him and I was hooked. One moment like this and he was mine.
When he withdrew from my pussy, his hand went to his zipper and he freed himself. I wanted him in my mouth and longed to return the favor, but instead, he grabbed my legs and rubbed the head of his dick up and down my inner thigh, inching toward my vagina while allowing his pants to fall to his feet.
“I’m not putting a rubber on, and you’re not asking me to,” he said.
“I’m not on the pill,” I blurted out.
“And I don’t give a damn,” he said, releasing a masculine growl and then pressing his lips to mine in order to prevent further protest while feeding the growing hunger.
His tongue worked in a magical way, in and out of my mouth with timed precision. Then, he added his cock to the equation, not waiting for me to make up my mind about protection and obviously oblivious to my concerns.
He thrust inside me and pulled back, looking at me long enough to gauge the pain and the lust. Both existed and I’m sure he found precisely what he thought he’d see.
“Alanzo, don’t,” I said, locking my ankles behind his back. “Just take me. Right now, just fuck me like I’m the only one here.”
“You are the only one here, baby.”
No, no, don’t do that, I thought. Don’t try to make this about Marco. I slapped the palms of my hands against the vanity while he pulled me toward him and then eased me back.
Our bodies found a tempo, his cock found a beat, and my hips rolled with the rhythm. We were moving to music we couldn’t hear, dancing to the erotic pleasure we were destined to meet.
Looking down at the joining of our bodies, the eroticism lit the kind of fire not easily contained. His thick shaft coated in my moisture while he slid in and out of my body. I watched him retreat and enter again, draw back and thrust again.
“Ah, Suzy,” he growled, picking up his pace and gazing down too. “That’s right,” he chanted, working his hips. “Give me what I need, lover,” he encouraged, pushing himself higher into my channel. “Close around me, baby. Ah, yeah, that’s right. What a tight pussy. Fuck me, honey. I’m yours. You’ve got me wrapped, sugar.”
The things he said turned things up a notch. The heat went from mild to hot to a smoldering intensity. I completely lost my ability to speak and couldn’t watch him fuck me. All I could do was enjoy the slapping of bodies, the pleasure building. The lust he spun drove me crazy and hooked me for more.
“Look at me,” he whispered, placing his hands on my waist and continuing to sway one way and then another, rotating me around his thick dick and grinding ever so slowly.
Alanzo was a dangerous lover. Watching the lust wash over his face and settle in his eyes made me eager. His loving empowered me.
“That’s it. Make love to me, only me. Fuck me, baby. Love me like I love you. Oh God, Suzy, I’ve always loved you.”
And there it was. The half-hearted promise I felt confident he’d eventually give. The words I longed to hear and yet feared receiving all the same.
Squeezing my legs around his hips, I drew him in and rode him. I’d missed this kind of connection, the rippling sensation found in the friction when a hard cock rubbed against vaginal walls. He fingered my nipples and looked on with such admiration, like he lost himself in a solitary touch or one more hard push.
“Don’t stop, Alanzo. Never stop.”