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Grace stands on tiptoes to kiss John, then tells him, "I need to talk to Harold, honey, please go stand in the corner for a bit."

He does, which is still pretty hot to Grace - just that she can tell him to do something, even ridiculous things, and John does, no question. It's also handy, since she does need to discuss something with Harold.

The thing in question is a purchase. Harold is better than Grace at those: usually Grace trusts her materialism to providence, finding pieces of furniture abandoned on street corners or in random Etsy shops.

Some of those coincidences, come to think of it, might have had Harold's guiding hands behind them at times, too. But he promised to tell her if he does that again, and it's not an argument she wants to revisit right now, since she needs Harold to help her find something very specific.

"It's important to go for reliable manufacturers," Harold says, clicking away and frowning at her monitor. Normally this makes Grace want to wind him up about the way he ends up paying 150$ for a vibrator virtually identical to ones she can buy for 10$ at the drugstore, but right now he has a point.

They're buying a gift for John, after all. Nothing but the best for him.

Grace already has her harness picked out, though it doesn't look at all like the mental image she gets at the word. Instead, it's a pair of boy-shorts with a strategically cut hole. She found the store which sold them on tumblr and promptly fell in love with the idea of wearing one, which got her on the entire mental track of the current purchase.

"Ah, there," Harold says. "Everything in this category is of reasonable quality: medical grade silicone, a variety of shapes." He coughs. "I suggest that we leave, ah, some of the larger ones for a later time."

Grace scrolls down out of pure curiosity, recoiling a little when she comes face to face with a life size model of a horse penis. "Goodness," she says, faint. "How creative. No, something a little more human-sized."

Harold's mouth is doing the thing where he refuses to smirk. Grace follows his gaze to John, who is standing at perfect attention. Pity: she hates missing out on John's reactions.

"Perhaps later," Harold murmurs, "you can sit in his lap and ask him to evaluate some of the other choices."

Heat sparks in the bottom of Grace's stomach. She squirms. "We could try that."

The toys she likes best are the ones that look abstract. Her eye is caught on one dark green toy, blunt, about as big as John's own dick. She elbows Harold and asks, "What do you think?"

Harold gives her a doubting look. "Perhaps you could start with something a little smaller?"

This time, Grace looks to John in time to see him pull himself back together. She grins. "I think this one will be just fine," she says. "And we can work up from there."

John's shiver is unmissable. Grace valiantly resists the urge to clap her hands, this is such fun already.


When their purchase arrives, Grace signs the delivery gal's form thing and lets the bland cardboard box sit on the living room table. John will peek, if she gives him so much as a moment alone with it.

So she makes sure he doesn't get a moment alone.

She asks him to be a footstool for most of the afternoon, although she lets him up periodically to fetch her - and himself - snacks and water. Every time he passes by the table, there's this moment where he doesn't look or stop, but Grace knows in her bones that he wants to.

Harold walks in two minutes past six, hangs his coat and his hat, and raises his eyebrows as he looks at them. "I keep underestimating your cruel streak," he tells Grace, halfway between reproving and admiring.

"He brings it out in me." Grace threads her fingers through John's hair, feeling him tremble.

"Are we making him wait until after dinner?"

Grace laughs. "Heavens, no. I'm definitely not patient enough for that." She slides her feet off his back. "John, bedroom."

He doesn't run, but it's a close thing.

Harold goes to her, shaking his head, and pulls her into a welcome hug and kiss. "Should I leave the two of you to explore this yourselves?"

Grace holds him at arm's length. Harold is sincere, always is, although she can see the hint of plaintiveness lurking beneath his expression. She shakes her head, fond. "I need you to do the emotional work," she says. "I'll be busy figuring out logistics and trying to get off." She grins. "Beside, just try telling me you don't want to watch."

Harold kisses her hand. "I did promise no more lies, didn't I?"

John's lying on his stomach in the bedroom, and the sight arrests Grace's attention as she enters. The play of light on his back is beautiful; she ought to draw him some time. Maybe hurt him a little first, make him work up a sweat and tense up his muscles.

Tonight, she doesn't want him hurting. Or only a little, in a good way. She grabs his ass, parting the cheeks. "Got yourself ready for me?"

John's "Yes," is more moaned than spoken. Grace doesn't mind. Right now she can understand John just fine, and if she has trouble later on, that's what Harold is here for.

She glances at Harold, who nods at her and sits on the bed. John is briefly frozen, until Grace tells him, "Go to Harold, sweetheart. It's okay." John then squirms along the bed until he can lay his head in Harold's lap.

John nuzzles at Harold's crotch. Harold puts a stop to it by grabbing John's hair. "Now, now." He firmly places John's head so his cheek rests against Harold's thigh. "Patience."

John's eyes slide shut, and Grace yields to the urge to rub a little between her legs. Fuck, she's wet.

The harness fits her like a dream, and the toy sits easily. She takes another moment to fidget with it until the angle is right. She wasn't sure how it would feel - like her body is different, or her balance. It's just wearing a piece of equipment.

She kneels between John's legs, spreading his ass again. Good and wet. Still, she'll need more. At her wordless look, Harold passes her a condom and lubricant: Grace still thinks it's silly to put condoms on toys when they're all tested and fluid-bonded, but Harold is fussy and she and John find it charming.

At first, she prods the toy at John's entrance, careful. She's had her fingers inside him and helped Harold fuck him, but she doesn't think she saw John take something of this size yet.

She has every faith in his ability, though.

That's probably a thought she should share. "I think this is the biggest thing I've seen fucking you," she tells John, rubbing the tip of the toy against his hole. "But you can take it, can't you?"

John's thigh muscles jump. He pushes back, clumsy with the lack of leverage. Grace doesn't know if she wants to tease him or to let him have it.

Well. It is her show tonight. She shoves him down with her hand on the small of his back, and he stills. She holds him open, and with an experimental thrust of her hips, pushes inside.

Either he's readier than she thought or she pushed harder than she meant to: the toy sinks in, popping past the ring of muscle and proceeding inside. John makes a guttural, shocked noise.

Grace pauses, until Harold says, "He can take it. Go on."

She kind of wants to go as hard as she can, just to see John opening up and letting her in. At the same time, she wants it to be good for him, wants him to come untouched for her the way he does for Harold sometimes.

In the end, she settles for the rhythm that comes naturally to her hips. Slower than she likes to be fucked, herself, and deeper. She doesn't think she's grazing John's prostate too often, but he seems to be having fun anyway, shuddering with Harold's hands in his dark hair.

"Using you is fun," Grace tells John. "It would have been nice to have nerve endings there: I bet you're nice and tight."

"That's my experience, usually," Harold affirms, making John sob.

"The plus side is," Grace says, thoughtfully, "this," she gives a sharp thrust for emphasis, "doesn't have a refractory period. I can fuck you until I'm tired and then just... take off the harness and leave it in you." She slaps John's ass, making the muscles there bunch and tighten. "Have you fuck yourself on it. That might be fun."

After that, she bottoms out. She waits a few minutes, letting John squirm around the full length of the toy. Then she abandons finesse and humps him, fucks him with short quick movements until the friction of the toy's base against her clit gets her off.

She slowly falls on top of him, resting her weight on his back. He's firm under her, like a good mattress, and she really wants to go to sleep. She gives Harold an inquiring look.

Harold pets her hair, making her close her eyes. "Everything is taken care of," Harold says. "Only pull out," Grace does, possibly a bit fast, judging by the choked noise John makes. "Excellent. I recommend you take the harness off, though."

Fair enough. She squirms out of it, letting the toy drop to the floor. She'll pick it up later, once she's had a nap.

She settles herself next to John, cozy in a nest of blanket. "You gettin' him off?" she asks Harold, eyes already closing.

"He came while you were fucking him," Harold says, amused. "No need to worry about me, either. I'm sure John will oblige me for a few moments more."

Grace mumbles wordless assent, drifts off to the familiar rhythm of Harold fucking John next to her. One second before losing consciousness, her hand finds John's, and they grip one another. She falls asleep smiling.