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Going Down: The Unexpected Adventures of Sticky Raccoon Girl

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It was just an afternoon at the pool, and then it wasn’t. A house party turned private party turned into a story she’d never tell her friends.

Who’d believe her, anyway?

Plus, dirty threesomes weren’t really polite conversation in most circles.

That she started the afternoon at the same party as Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan -- that part she could have told, the part where she came up from a dive and nearly collided with a laughing face she recognized, because his was a face everyone recognized.

But she managed not to make a Captain America reference to Chris Evans on the third of July, and that felt like a decent first impression. Resist saying something inane: check. Resist nuzzling her face against his full beard? Also check … for now.

A shy smile while she pushed her dripping hair off her forehead was all she could manage. The sun was hot on her skin -- it’s what had pushed her to dive in while all the other women were sunning themselves, displaying curves to best advantage, making sure carefully applied makeup stayed in place. She’d decided to ruin her hair in favor of not melting in place, and it had seemed like a good idea.

But now she could see her own bedraggled reflection in Chris Evans’ mirrored sunglasses. Scratch the decent first impression, unless that impression was meant to be of his upcoming costar, Rocket Raccoon. She swiped once, ineffectually, at the smear of mascara under her eyes and then shrugged. The water was cool on her skin, and she was face-to-pec with Chris Evans. Only one conclusion to draw here.

“Worth it.”

Chris Evans smiled at her, slowly and deliberately, and gave her a casual, thorough onceover that heated her skin in a way the sun could never.

“Yeah, looks that way.”

She turned then, because the sun was in her eyes, or maybe it was just his smile, but either way: too bright to keep looking in that direction.


Because it was Los Angeles, even the “hey, my friend’s having a little party” party had a bar manned by a bartender, featuring a signature cocktail. She wasn’t sure what something called “384” might taste like, but it was a little sweet, a little tart and a little too easy to toss back. The kind of taste she could easily get addicted to.

She was on her third drink when she had her second near-miss of the day. She’d just snagged a refill, and turned around, only to stop short. Her drink sloshed merrily over the edge of the cup, and if there was ever a circumstance where she was grateful to have spilled a drink on herself, it was when the other option was spilling it on Sebastian Stan’s bare, broad chest.

She’d imagined meeting him in a variety of creative scenarios, but those fantasies never began with alcohol dripping into her cleavage, turning the top of her favorite bikini -- white with tiny black polka dots, high-waisted bottoms and a plunging neckline that still looked positively demure at this party -- a bright, cheerful pink.

Ah, well. It gave her a chance to stand here, doing some more ineffectual swiping, which did nothing except spread the liquid around and make her fingertips as sticky as her chest.

She needed to stop swiping.

“Enjoying the party?”

“Maybe a little too much,” she said, shrugging helplessly, gesturing at herself as she felt the liquid pool in her bellybutton. Sticky raccoon girl, that’s how she was going to be remembered. Beautiful.

And Sebastian Stan grinned at her, taking a sip of his own drink. “Worth it, though?”

She heard the echo of her words to Chris Evans -- her brain stubbornly refused to let her even think of them on a first-name basis; she might be at the same party, inexplicably, but their stars were in a different orbit -- and wondered briefly about coincidence.

She caught herself staring at a set of well-defined pecs for the second time in an hour and guiltily swung her eyes up to meet his, but something about the upturn of his lips told her to stop feeling guilty. At any rate, if she was going to be a sticky raccoon girl, she might as well be a memorable one, and so she matched his grin and recreated the onceover Chris Evans had given to her.

“Definitely worth it.”

His smile was slow and gave her brain a thousand traitorous ideas about beard burn and hair pulling and licking that trail of sweat she could see on his neck, and maybe she could blame this full-body blush on the sun. The heat. Anything that wasn’t the colorful filth looping through her mind. “That’s what we like to hear.”


The music in the background was some peppy radio hit that repetition had unfortunately seared into her consciousness, but all she could hear in her head was Springsteen.

Oh, oh, oh, I’m on fire.


She forced herself back into party mode then, refusing to let her gaze linger on the cluster of chairs where Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan held court. So many string bikinis, so little time, she thought ungenerously, and decided to take what she’d gotten: two moments with two men she’d never even expected to see in person.

It wasn’t nothing. Maybe she could even convince herself that it was enough.

So she mingled, she sipped another drink, she dangled a foot in the water. Then she drifted to the edge of the yard, glancing out into the inky indigo.

The house was set into a hill, and the twinkling lights of the city were spread out for miles below. She lost herself for a while, imagining all the scripts unfolding in the twilight, comedies and dramas and romances. It was a good distraction from the story she was plotting in her head, the one that made her a sort of unicorn, the last guest at the party, the one who got invited to stay for an impromptu after-party.

The kind of after-party where even a bathing suit might mean she was overdressed.

She snorted out loud at the ridiculousness of the idea, and the echoing loudness of that graceless sound pulled her entirely back into the present. Wait. She whirled then, gaping at the sudden emptiness of the backyard. The bartender was gone, and the gate was swinging shut behind the last few guests. She wondered, wildly, if she’d missed some social cue, or if this was some stupid fucking only in L.A. thing, where on alternate Sunday nights, all parties ended at … whatever time it was, with the moon bright in the cloudless sky.

Time to go, obviously.

Sticky raccoon girl was not having her best day ever.

She hurried across the lawn and back onto the patio, and as she passed by the deep end, a dark head popped out of the water, close enough to splash water on her feet.

“Sorry, sorry,” Chris Evans laughed. “I thought we were alone.”

As he finished the sentence, another bearded menace surfaced next to him, and if interacting with them separately had been a heady thing, she might not survive the combination of them both standing under her feet, looking up at her.

“He’s lying, you know,” Sebastian Stan told her, bumping his shoulder into Chris Evans’ and grinning in a way that short-circuited her brain. “He knew you were still here. We kicked everyone else out. But you can stay.”

He stroked backward a few feet in the pool and gestured to the water in front of him.

“Plenty of room.”

At once, her brain said !!!, followed immediately by this isn’t real, this isn’t real, then by get in the pool rightnowrightnowrightnow.

She had, after all, vowed to be the best sticky raccoon girl she could, which meant there was really no decision.


She surfaced to a sight she’d only seen in gifs and YouTube clips: the infamous left boob grab. Chris Evans was leaning into Sebastian Stan, clutching his pec and laughing helplessly as the evidence of her graceless entry into the pool dripped off both their faces.

“That …” Chris Evans shook his head, trying to muster enough breath to finish the sentence. “That was basically the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She'd spoken a grand total of 10 words to them both so far, so she obviously hadn't been invited to stay because of her flawless oral skills.

At least not the ones she’d demonstrated so far.

Might as well keep things moving, she thought, and smiled at them both. “So apart from the cannonball, which you didn’t know was part of my skill set … wanna tell me why I’m still here? I’m guessing you didn’t keep me here so I could show you my screenplay.”

Chris Evans flinched, visibly flinched, and he and Sebastian Stan shared a quick look. She burst into laughter before he could figure out how to politely dismiss her.

“Sorry, couldn't resist.” She held up her right hand and crossed a quick x in the air over her heart. “I was a solid C student in all my English classes. You're safe from me-- no Hollywood blockbuster dreams, no idea journal in my bag.”

Sebastian Stan folded his arms across his chest, and she let herself enjoy the sight for longer than was strictly polite before she went on.

“I'm a photographer. But--” and her hand went up in the air again, this time indicating the obvious lack of a camera anywhere on her body, “-- you're safe from those talents tonight, too.”

She watched Chris Evans raise his eyebrows at the innuendo and continued on blithely. “No worries, though. I have others.”

It was a bold move, one not even her wildest imaginings might have played out, and inwardly she cringed, waiting for them to laugh. But Sebastian Stan shrugged, unfolded his arms, and took a step back again, sliding his body gracefully out of the water to perch on the side of the pool.

The invitation was clear, but Chris Evans was still standing next to her, close enough for her to reach out and trail an admiring finger down his chest, had she wanted to. And she did want to, but she opted for simply taking one deliberate step closer, so that she was clearly in his space, close enough to count the tiny droplets of water rolling down his golden skin.

She tilted her head and smiled at him, being careful to not sway close enough to touch, even though the lines of his body were something she wanted to map with her hands and lips and teeth. She’d already leapt past her normal boundaries with abandon; if this was happening, no matter how much of a brave show she was putting on, she needed a little nudge.

She needed him to move first.

And he did, but in a direction she hadn’t expected, stepping backward and boosting himself out of the water to sit next to Sebastian. They shared a look and she battled back her blush, still standing in the water. Fine. Okay. Conversation before titillation.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this anonymous partygoer persona, but I’m Nora.”

“Nora,” Chris Evans repeated, nodding. “I like it.”

“How lucky for me.”

“Sass. You’re sassing me. I like that, too.”

“Name and attitude,” she fired back. “Look at all I’ve got going for me.”

Sebastian Stan slid into the conversation, lips upturned with mirth, and she felt the heat of his eyes all over her exposed skin. “We have been, trust me.”

She sighed, shaking her head, exaggerating the drama. “Looking, though. That’s all you’ve been doing. Oh, well, since we’re stuck on polite, you might as well introduce yourselves. I can’t be the only one with a name.”

Chris Evans stuck out his hand, his grin sly, and twined her fingers with his. “Where are my manners? Chris. I’m Chris.”

He squeezed her hand, and she briefly considered using the strength she could see in those muscles to lever herself out of the water and onto his lap, but she hesitated, and he withdrew.

She who hesitates is just gonna have to take the next exit, she reminded herself, and looked to his partner in crime.


“Seb,” Chris added immediately, squeezing Sebastian’s thigh, and her brain was confronted with an existential dilemma: did she want to be Chris’ hand in this situation, or Sebastian’s thigh? Both, the right answer was clearly both. “Or Sebby.”

Sebastian slid his sunglasses off and shook his head, his serious tone belying his obvious amusement. “Not Sebby. You’ve got to earn that one.”

Chris let loose that full-bellied laugh he was famous for, leaning into Sebastian’s side. “S’true. I mean, I definitely earned it.”

That she didn’t immediately sink under the surface, overcome by the sight of them laughing together, was an accomplishment she wanted to be remembered for. That she managed to raise an eyebrow and smirk was something that should probably be carved into her headstone in capital letters.

“Well, don’t hold out on me,” Nora said lightly. “Where’s the bar? How high do I jump?”

Chris put his hand back on Sebastian’s thigh, and squeezed again, letting his hand travel a little farther -- up and in, just shy of the bulge she wasn’t pretending she couldn’t see in those black trunks of Sebastian’s.

“Up? No, no. Wrong direction. You want to earn it, you’ve gotta go down.”

“Jesus,” Sebastian choked out, and she thought it was shock before he started laughing, hard enough to shake Chris’ hand from his leg. “That was the best you could do? That’s your line? Fuck. I take it back, all of it. Maybe you’ve gotta earn it again, too.”

“Me first.”

Sebastian considered her for a silent moment, all laughter gone from his face. Then he lifted his hands, and they stilled in the air, as if he might be just as unsure of his next move as she was.

Nora almost scoffed out loud at that thought -- what did either of them have to be nervous about? She was reasonably sure either of them could have successfully crooked a finger at a very high percentage of merriment-makers … and probably none of those would have accepted the invitation by cannonballing into the water. True, she had once come passably close to intimidating a photography student, but the student had been six, and she’d been a college student teaching the class. She was no sky-high pair of heels in female form; she was worn-in kicks with their own appeal to be sure, but no flash.

But then she remembered Chris’ hand on Sebastian’s thigh, the obvious intimacy nothing a headline had ever captured, and it registered. For whatever reason, they were trusting her with this, with them, even just for what might be a few stolen moments. It felt a little weird and a little wonderful, and she wished there was a casual hand gesture that conveyed I understand the rules here, and I promise this won’t be headline news tomorrow, and I’m about to get up close and really personal with your beard, hope that’s cool.

She settled for a smile and a slow nod. I get it.

Sebastian’s feet were dangling in the water, kicking lightly so that droplets splashed onto her skin where she stood, just before the slope into the deep end. Her gaze slid up over lean calves to those well-defined thighs where they disappeared into his black trunks. She wanted to touch, to grab, to bite, but she started by curling a wet hand around his left ankle, letting her fingers follow the path her eyes had just mapped.

She stroked her way up, over the solid muscle of his calf and past his knee until her hand was resting on the last bit of skin not hidden under his trunks. Over was the safest route, but she wasn’t standing here because she’d played it safe or shy. Her hand slipped under the damp fabric and traveled up his thigh, and she followed the incredibly natural impulse to squeeze the thick muscle, letting her nails scrape very, very lightly against his skin.

He shivered.

Chris laughed. “Jesus, Seb. You up for this?”

Sebastian fixed those maybe-gray-maybe-blue eyes of his on her, and a smile spread slowly across his face. When he answered Chris’ question, she knew he was talking to her.

“Come and find out.”

The simple thing would have been to let her hand slip-slide a few more inches, but sticky raccoon girl was a touch impatient, and so Nora adjusted her hand on Sebastian’s thigh so that she was grabbing the meaty muscle on top. She pushed hard, her grip on that thick thigh enough to support her as she lunged up, out of the water, and kissed him.

She was intending a kiss-and-run, planning to slide back into the water and wait for his rejoinder, but he supported her unexpected weight in his lap easily, sliding an arm around to hold her against him, and she leaned into his broad chest, lingering for a moment.

Sebastian groaned, and his fingers crept forward, brushing over the damp cups of her bikini top with the barest of touches. She breathed deeply, and with every second Sebastian grew bolder. When he cupped her breast in one warm hand, she sighed, eyes falling closed as she reached out blindly to touch him. Her hand reached up to find his chest, and she flattened her palm against the hard muscles of his stomach, slowly descending, waiting to be denied.

When her fingers dipped under the waistband of his trunks and he shuddered but didn't stop her, she realized. He wasn't going to deny her anything tonight.

One last check, before she toppled whatever balance remained. Nora turned her head, to where Chris was watching intently, and he bent to her, waiting.

"I want to make him come," she said quietly. "And I want you to watch me do it."

He exhaled unsteadily, but he was already nodding. "Yeah. Jesus. Do it."

Her eyes fell on Sebastian then, and she grinned at him, desire and mischief flaring in her eyes. "If that's okay with you, of course."

The rasp of his breathing was the only sound she was registering, and he held himself perfectly still, waiting to see what she'd do.

"For me?" she murmured, making sure he was watching as her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "You shouldn't have. But since you did..." She reached into his trunks and took him in hand, giving him a firm squeeze, letting her hand travel his length once before she withdrew. Nora tilted her head, considering. "How do you want me?"

Sebastian made a single helpless noise before he kissed her again, and Chris laughed.

He kissed her until she was dizzy, and she let her hands run over his back and shoulders and chest. When she used a fingernail to trace the outline of his bicep, she felt him tremble. Ruthlessly, Nora exploited that weakness, tearing her mouth from his so she could put her lips to the warm skin stretched over solid muscle, dragging her mouth over his arm, then raking the spot with her teeth.

She felt his muscles jerk, and she laughed against his skin, reaching down once again to slide her fingers around the length of him. Her goal was to tease and torture and taunt -- she wanted him to snap. She wanted him to be crazy for her.

Sebastian leaned back -- keeping his hold on her and carefully not breaking hers on him -- and impatiently shoved his trunks down. Nora stared openly as his proud, hard cock was revealed to her for the first time. She'd expected him to be impressive, and maybe she’d even dared to imagine, but it was something entirely different to see him.

She knew then what she wanted, and without waiting for instruction or invitation, Nora let herself slide out of his lap and back into the water. Her lips parted, and she favored Sebastian with a coy smile before she wrapped her lips around him.

Worth it was the last rational thought she remembered, as her body took over from her brain and she explored him with her tongue. From root to tip she tasted and lapped and sucked, and she thought she heard him growl out her name. It was shockingly seductive, and she moaned around him.

She glanced up, wanting to fix this moment in her memory, and lost her rhythm. He was leaning back, arms still crossed over his thick chest, and his eyes were closed. He might have been sunbathing as she had earlier, focused entirely on the heat soaking into his skin, never mind that the sun was long gone from the sky. Besides the obvious, there was no outward sign that a girl he’d met two hours ago had her lips wrapped around his cock. He was a lazy king, perched on a poolside throne, waiting to be impressed.

She faltered, suddenly unsure.

A hand tangled gently in her hair. “No, hey, keep going. He likes it like that.” A low chuckle. “I know he likes it like that. He’s just trying not to lose it. Trust me. You look so good sucking his dick.”

Chris leaned over and bit Sebastian’s shoulder, and those blue-gray eyes fluttered open. “Show your appreciation.”

Sebastian took an unsteady breath, glancing down, but kept his arms folded. She could feel his legs trembling where her arms rested atop them. He was quiet.

“Nothing to say?” Chris asked lightly, brushing his beard against Sebastian’s cheek. “Not very polite, Sebby. Manners are important. But hey, she can stop. It can be my turn, if manners are problematic for you.”

Now Sebastian reacted, eyes going wide and arms dropping to his sides, as Chris leaned even closer to nip his lower lip.

“Be nice to Nora. She's being pretty fuckin’ nice to you.”

Sebastian chased Chris’s lips before he could retreat, lifting his right hand to rest on Chris’s thick beard as they kissed.

And kissed, and kissed.

Nora felt incredibly, exhilaratingly voyeuristic, standing in the water with the salt of Sebastian’s skin still on her lips, watching them like they were playing out a scene just for her. And it was much the way she’d have written it, had she dared to imagine this, with Chris’s low groan and the rasp of their beards as the background music to this indie erotica.

From the look of them together, her walk-on role might be edited out, and Nora wasn’t sure she could muster enough indignance to mind. At least not as long as she got to watch Chris push his tongue into Sebastian’s mouth, and Sebastian’s hand slide down Chris’s chest.

“Missed you,” she heard one of them mutter, and she watched the kiss ramp up a notch, Sebastian’s hand moving inside Chris’s trunks while her mouth was still scant inches from Sebastian’s cock. As intense and plainly beautiful as the moment was, it was equally strange, and she hesitated.

She could keep watching, standing forgotten in the cool water that might be the only thing keeping her from melting at the heat between the two men, and let the image of them burn into her retinas, an eclipse surely worth the price.

She could leave, and that seemed like a reasonable choice, too -- leave them to themselves, leave her own skin flushed with want, leave and never know.

Or she could do what she’d seemed to do naturally already, and make them remember she was here.

And so a few seconds later, when she registered Sebastian’s strangled gasp and watched them finally break apart, she did it while swallowing Sebastian down once more.

“Fuck.” That was Chris, the approval clear in that one low syllable, and she smiled at him and raked her teeth very, very lightly up Sebastian’s cock. “Seb. I’ve gotta know. Feel as good as it looks?”

Sebastian blew out a breath and laughed a little, reaching down to mimic Chris’s move from earlier and tangling his fingers in her hair. He tugged once, then harder, and she blinked at him innocently before sliding a wet hand up to squeeze him at the base. His head lolled back, and he mumbled his answer to Chris.


This time, the flush spreading over Nora’s skin was all pride, and she refocused on her task -- best blowjob from a perfect stranger in a pool seemed like a reasonable goal -- and tried to take Sebastian apart.

The world narrowed rapidly then, to the fireworks she was dimly aware of streaking across the sky, to the feel of Sebastian on her tongue, to Chris’s quiet encouragement. Her eyes had closed at some point, they must have, because after time had passed -- seconds, minutes, weeks, she wasn’t sure -- she heard a scoff above her.

“What, the view’s no good?”

She blinked, and Seb’s face came into focus first.

"Maybe we're not entertaining her."

“Maybe you're not,” Chris said with mock indignation, leaning over again to set his teeth into Seb’s shoulder yet again. She’d have remembered the sight forever only seeing it once. Twice? She could describe it well enough to have it tattooed onto her skin, except then anyone could see, and she already knew this night was a memory she was keeping just for herself.

And her slightly aching jaw.

Chris went on, brushing his beard against Sebastian’s ear, and when Sebastian shivered, so did she. “Maybe I should take my turn now. Show you how it's done. Protect our reputation.”

It seemed as if Sebastian might not respond, might just let Chris keep whispering in his ear, might shudder into release just from the sound of that low, amused voice and that beard nuzzling his cheek. Nora wasn’t even sure she could’ve blamed him, but then Sebastian leaned forward, ghosting his lips over Chris’s before shoving him gently backward. His hand stayed on Chris’s shoulder, fingers curling into a quick caress.

“You get bored when you’re sucking my dick, is that what I’m hearing?”

Chris shrugged and then laughed as Sebastian playfully shoved him again, then reeled him in for another kiss.

Nora watched them from the water and frowned. It seemed unfair, all that touching, all that lovely skin stretched over muscle, and her access so limited by her decision to slip back into the pool. She considered (too briefly) and then clambered out of the water with grace no mermaid would envy, scraping her knee on the pool deck and nearly laying Sebastian flat as she landed in his lap.

Oof hadn't really been the reaction she was going for. Still, now she was straddling Sebastian, with both knees digging into the unyielding tile that bordered the pool. She bit her lip.

“Maybe we can move this to the chair?”

Sebastian grinned at her. “Hold on.” He hesitated briefly and slid both arms around her waist, and she automatically leaned a little closer. Just following instructions. “I mean it -- hold onto me.”

No hardship, that, she thought before complying, putting both arms around his neck and then squealing a little as he pushed himself up to a standing position, every muscle flexing as he lifted her easily. Wrapping her legs around his waist seemed like the best decision on multiple fronts: less likely to fall, plus it brought her body even closer to his. Not falling: good. The heat of his skin against hers as he held her close: Nora was going to need a better word than good.

She could feel the rapid thrum of someone’s heart where their chests were pressed together and could only hope he was similarly affected. Her brain was screaming proximity alerts, but the only danger here was that nothing else might ever feel quite this amazing.

She leaned forward, letting her lips brush across his collarbone when she dropped her head to whisper, “I probably shouldn’t admit to being impressed by that, but, um. Nice move.”

Nora registered the low sound of Chris’s laugh, and turned her head enough to see him settling into a lounge chair himself.

“You just gonna stand there?” he asked Sebastian. “Not that I mind the view, but …”

She felt Sebastian shrug, and then his chest vibrated as he laughed. She clung a little tighter, just because, and one approving hand moved from her waist to the back of her neck. “Hey. I could do this all day.”

Chris’s mouth fell open, and Nora buried her face against Sebastian’s shoulder, unable to hold back a giggle at his incredulous, indignant expression. “That’s my line!”

“Yeah, but it’s my turn,” Sebastian said, and carefully settled onto the neighboring lounge chair, positioning Nora on top of him. He met her eyes then. “You good?”

That was an opening she couldn’t pass up. Nora curved her lips into a smirk and lifted a shoulder, raising her body off his so she could shimmy down his body, until her mouth was perfectly positioned.

“You tell me,” she murmured, and then she was back to using every trick she knew to take him apart. His breath stuttered as she worked him over, one hand sliding up his inner thigh, raking her nails along the sensitive skin there, pressing in a little harder as his cock brushed the back of her throat.

Sebastian’d used Chris’s famous line as a joke, but Nora really thought she could stay, just here, for the better part of a day. Her mouth might get dry and her muscles might ache, but the sounds she was wringing out of him, needy grunts and desperate moans she could hear even over the pyrotechnic bombs bursting in air were enough to keep her going as long as it took.

He was incredibly beautiful, and for this moment, she got to touch him like this. And there was still Chris to consider. Nora shuddered, anticipating the overwhelming pleasure of more, not that she was ready to end her moment with Sebastian.

Her readiness wasn’t under consideration, as she realized quickly, when Sebastian’s hand covered hers and squeezed hard. She heard him swear and felt him tense, and then he was coming in her mouth, his body jerking as he gave into the orgasm. She hadn't been ready, had expected this to last much, much longer, but still she took what he gave, slowly sliding backward to peer up at him through lowered lashes.

Nora waited anxiously for frustration or embarrassment to show on his face, already thinking of ways to console him. It shouldn't have surprised her when his head fell back against the lounger and he laughed, tugging her forward so she lay across his chest. "Too fucking hot," he told her admiringly. "I didn't stand a chance once you put your mouth on me."

His words, his tone, and the simple feeling of his hot skin on hers made her squirm, and he laughed knowingly. "Ah, man. You still need a turn."

"Take a breather," Chris said before Nora could reply, and her eyes widened when she realized he was right beside her, having tugged his lounge chair close enough to Sebastian’s to make it a double. "I've got her." He ran a hand down her back, sliding the straps of her suit off her shoulders, and she turned to him.

Her breath caught in her throat as he took her hands in his, pulling her partially off Sebastian so he could reach her mouth. He thrust his tongue past her lips, and it occurred to her that he was tasting both her and Sebastian as they kissed. Nora wriggled, even the thin layer of her swimsuit more than her sparking nerves could bear, and Chris's long fingers worked quickly, unclasping her top and tossing it aside, exposing her breasts to the evening air ... and two sets of appreciative eyes.

She scooted closer to him, wholly focused on soothing the ache that was her entire existence, and Chris's arm slid around her to lock their bodies together before he rolled her onto her back. He put his lips to her stomach, trailing down past her bellybutton to the point where skin was covered by still-damp nylon. He nuzzled her there, inhaling deeply, and she gasped, pushing his shoulders, trying to make him move.

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse with want, and he raised his blue eyes to hers, looking amused.

"Seb left you hanging, huh, pretty girl? And you want me to take care of that?"

"God, Chris," she gasped. "Yes. Please."

That full mouth curved into a dangerous smile, and he dipped his head to tug at her bottoms with his teeth. They inched down slowly-- so slowly, too slowly-- and Nora writhed, nearing desperation. She moaned his name again and his eyes returned to her face. He nodded at what he saw there.

"How do you want me?"

It took only two words to answer. "Inside. Now."

Chris laughed, but she saw the strain on his face as he shed his swim trunks and dragged the scrap of fabric over her legs, tossing it away. Propping himself up on his elbows, he hovered over her, and she thought he was making her wait as a tiny form of revenge-- though he’d been in charge the whole time. After all, he'd waited for this. For her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into the small of his back to drive him closer. Nearly there, she thought, tilting her hips desperately, just enough to bring their bodies into contact at the sweet spot, and now Chris groaned, sinking inside her in one deep thrust.

Nora's eyes rolled back in her head at the feel of him, and she had to struggle to stay with him as he moved, their pace frantic from the beginning. They'd both come to the edge while Sebastian took his pleasure between her lips, and now they were sating that terrible, wonderful need in each other's arms. Nora sunk her nails into his back, trying to push herself into oblivion, and Chris stiffened suddenly, his body shaking through a climax she wasn't ready for.

A pleading whine tore from her throat, and Chris turned blind eyes to her, still shuddering. Nora arched her hips, begging, and then gasped in relief as a hand slipped between their bodies to rub the bundle of nerves between her legs. One firm flick of a thumb, then another, and she was tumbling into grateful oblivion with a scream.

It took her a moment to realize that Chris's hands were on either side of her head, and she turned to seek Sebastian out, finding him curled beside her, his hand still lightly teasing her curls. He grinned at her as she lay between them, completely bare, Chris's leg slung over hers, Sebastian's hand between her legs.

"'m the luckiest girl in the world," she muttered, shivering at a sudden rush of cool night air that pebbled her skin. She could see both their faces, and she watched the glance they exchanged when she spoke. Sebastian was smirking, and Chris looked at her seriously.

“What, you thought we were done? Not so fast. Sebby’s got a redemption arc to complete. ”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian said without heat, shoving Chris so that he rolled away enough so that Sebastian could slide his thigh into the space Chris had vacated. “But he’s right. We’re not done.”

Her eyes fell to the erection he was making no effort to hide, and her breath caught. Chris’s hand was still on her hip, now held in place by Sebastian's, and she took that as it was meant, as a physical permission slip. It was easy, then, to turn her head and nip at Sebastian's neck, and easier still to slide her skin against his, making sure they touched in as many places as possible.

He breathed out heavily, his eyes finding Chris's. "You just watching this time?" he asked as Nora twisted so she could settle on top of him.

"Making no promises," came Chris's reply, and he swatted her ass lightly, as if he was reminding her of that fact. Nora reached back to take his hand, giving his fingers a quick squeeze, and then she fixed her eyes on Sebastian.

He lay back against the chair, his breathing rapid but composed, and she let one finger trace a trail up his thigh, watching his stomach muscles jump in response. His hands traced light circles on her hips, payback for the teasing she'd inflicted on him.

"Hope this is still worth it," he murmured amusedly, tightening his grip on her as he lifted her above him. She drew in a breath and bit her lip as he lowered her down onto his waiting erection.

"Oh, God," she moaned, eyes going wide as she adjusted to the feel of him. "You-- that feels--"

"Good?" he asked hoarsely, sweat beading on his brow as he held still, waiting for her to move.

"Amazing." Nora breathed out the word as she swiveled her hips experimentally, and both of them groaned at the sensation. She felt every inch of her power here, and every inch of his, as well. He cupped her breasts in his hands, teasing her nipples with his teadbs, and her back arched.

"Yeah, keep going, I can tell she likes that," Chris said approvingly, and Nora dared a glance at him. He was on his back, watching a stranger ride his lover, and his hand was sliding up and down his own erection, massaging the rigid flesh. This was going to kill her - =- it was too much, they were too much. And she wouldn't have walked away for anything.

Keeping her eyes on Chris, Nora raised herself up as far as she could, until only the very tip of Sebastian's cock was still inside her. She took a deep breath, flashed a trembling smile to whoever was watching -- and they both were -- and then slammed her hips down hard, taking Sebastian to the hilt again. She could have used a moment, an hour, a lifetime, to adjust, but her body's patience was exhausted, and her hips moved of their own accord.

Someone exhaled -- Jesus -- and someone groaned, and all Nora could do was move, taking and taking and taking until she was poised to come apart. Sebastian's hands had fallen from her breasts to her hips as he guided her, lifting her up and pulling her down as he raised his own hips, never content to offer anything less than his best effort.

"Oh, oh, oh," Nora panted, feeling the telltale tremor start to overtake her. Sebastian's fingers gripped her hips harder, and then she was being kissed with desperate force. She could barely think, could hardly see, but she thought she knew those lips, and she returned Chris's kiss greedily, wanting to have them both. A tongue pushed past her lips, a hand twisted her nipple, and she gasped out both their names, sliding her hand down to cover Chris's as he stroked himself to orgasm. He jerked in her hand at the same moment Sebastian pulsed inside of her, and completely overwhelmed, her eyes fell shut.

She might have blacked out then, she wasn't sure. The next thing Nora knew, voices were murmuring over her, and hands were gently running up and down her arms, brushing her cheek, pushing her hair out of her face. She was lying on her back, her body boneless and spent, and those beautiful bearded faces were hovering over her, looking both pleased and concerned.

“You good?” she heard Chris ask, and before her brain was online enough to cue her to laugh, Sebastian scoffed, sliding his hand into hers. Her fingers curled around his.

“You have doubts?”

“Fuck you, you know what I meant. Asshole.” Chris rolled his eyes and nudged Sebastian. “You okay, Nora?”

Okay. There had never been a less descriptive word in the history of linguistics. She wasn’t okay. She was hazy, floating in the sweetness of afterglow, aware of every satisfied inch of her body.

Her naked body.

She sat up abruptly, wobbling a little at the sudden head rush, holding a hand up at the chorus of “hey.”

“I’m good. And … I’m good.” She grinned, even as the air raced over her bare skin, shamelessly stealing the residual warmth. “Uh, my bikini-- is it--”

Both men moved, and after a few seconds of rustling, during which Nora tried to convince herself that it was silly to attempt to cover herself, Chris produced her bikini top and Sebastian handed over her bottoms.

If she’d been feeling awkward about her nudity, there was no improvement when she considered that she was going to have to wiggle into a wet bikini … in front of the two famous strangers she’d just had sex with. Nora stared at the polka-dot problem in her hands and now, stupidly, felt heat creeping onto her cheeks.

“Wait, wait!” Chris sprang up and hurried toward the house, returning quickly. He held out a tee and another pair of board shorts, and offered them with an apologetic smile. “They’re gonna be huge on you, but--”

“But they’ll get me home,” Nora finished, accepting them and quickly shrugging into the shirt, then looking down to see the Boston logo stretched across the chest. So she’d have a souvenir other than the soreness. She stood and stepped into the shorts, grateful for the drawstring that would at least hold them around her waist.

What she could see of herself looked positively ridiculous. “This,” she said, gesturing at the ensemble, “is the outfit I should have come here in.”

“Next time,” Sebastian suggested, and they all laughed, and then silence descended.

Go, go, go, the voice in her head said again, and she nodded. “Okay, I know I stashed my bag-- there!”

She hurried over several feet and retrieved her party-practical purse from under a shrub, sliding out her sandals and her phone. She tapped quickly and requested a ride, and then looked up.

“10 minutes,” she reported, busying her hands with shoving her hair behind her ears.

“You call an Uber?”

“Lyft,” she said emphatically, and Chris grinned at her.

“Atta girl. Hey, so -- I’m gonna be out of town for a while, but if you want to give me your number …”

It was the most natural thing, the logical next step, and Nora opened her mouth and said no.

The surprise on both faces was even kind of gratifying.

“Look,” she said. “This was -- well. Amazing. You’re both amazing. And I’m not going to forget a single second of this, but this was lightning striking, and I was just in the right place. Let me keep that, okay? Let me remember it and not be sad that you’re not going to call me in a week or a month or ever. Just -- it was worth it, just like this. I don’t regret it, even if it was a little crazy. Can we keep it that way?”

She’d remember this, too -- the surprise fading into acceptance, respect and maybe, just maybe, a little wistfulness. But Sebastian stepped forward and kissed her again, quickly and deeply and in a way she was going to miss, and then Chris pulled her into a hug that pushed all the breath out of her body.

Then headlights appeared in the driveway, and she whispered a goodbye and pushed open the gate, letting it swing shut without glancing over her shoulder.