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Thanksgiving dinner is never ending.
The girls left with the au pair hours ago. Logan liked to have the kids there for the optics, but was always happy to pat their heads and send them off after the first course. He mumbled something to Gerri about how she and Baird could really unwind with the kids not lingering nearby.
Unwind. That is the word he used. If he knew that his youngest son’s hand had rucked up her skirt and was trying to squeeze his fingers into the leg opening of her too-small underpants he might realize that she is nowhere near unwinding. That will come later.
But first… dessert.
There are six different kinds of pie (apple, cranberry apple, pumpkin, pecan, sweet potato, and, for reasons no one can fathom, chocolate cream) and little cookies. Plus, espresso and digestifs. Gerri waves her hand at the server so many times it looks like she’s fanning herself. She needs to watch what she eats heading into that evening.
The conversation flows easily. Kendall’s new wife is unexpectedly charming. Shiv’s graduate school boyfriend is less pretentious than her typical choices. And Roman, returned for the holiday from California, is his usually sardonic self, poking fun at all of them equally, including himself.
Gerri isn’t sure how he managed to sit next to her. She almost always ends up exiled next to whoever Logan is screwing that year. But somehow Roman shifted things so she is between him and Baird, each of them doing what they can to wind her up under the tablecloth, and Shiv is glaring at all of them from her seat next to the “journalist slash model” that Logan has taken a shine to of late.
Roman’s fingers are still trying unsuccessfully to burrow into her underpants probably so he can shove his fingers into her cunt. He has very little finesse. On her other side, Baird is gently caressing his fingers on her inner thigh, that touch doing more to arouse her than all of Roman’s poking and prodding. Roman will show his value well enough later, though. She has no doubt of that.
Logan suggests cigars and port in the library after dinner and Roman and Baird trot off after him like the good little sycophants that they are. She is stuck with Shiv, the “journalist” and Rava. They smile uneasily at each other before Gerri wanders off to “make a call” and hopes that no one thinks too hard about why she is working on a holiday.
She wanders down the hallway and listens at the doorway. Logan is pontificating per usual whilst the rest of them contribute fawning comments where needed. She can hear Kendall, Connor, and Baird. Roman is either keeping his mouth shut (doubtful) or has also fled in search of some peace and quiet. She continues down the hall and ducks into a small powder room that is tucked away from the activity of the house.
Before she can shut the door, Roman slips in with her and closes it behind himself, throwing the lock. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her, his eyes dark as midnight, his chest heaving with anticipation. She doesn’t resist when he pushes her up into the wall, his mouth landing on hers hungrily. His hands are up under her skirt again in a flash, this time tugging her underwear down, shoving it all the way to her ankles. He runs his fingers over her gently. She got waxed yesterday on purpose, for him and for this, and she can tell how much he likes it from the hum of appreciation deep in his throat.
“I’m gonna leave now. You guys wait fifteen minutes. No, ten minutes. I can’t wait any longer than that to have you.” Gerri kisses him again, her hand pressed firmly into the back of his head. She is already so worked up she would let him fuck her right here, just down the hall from everyone else, their mouths pressed together to silence their screams.
He pulls away before she did, squatting down for a moment and gently lifting her legs one at a time to have her step out of her underwear. He shoves it in his pocket. “This is mine now. Five minutes.” He is out the door before she can even answer him.
*****************
She and Baird barely speak in the car on the way over. They take a cab so they don’t have to explain to their regular driver why they’re not going home. Baird is back to running his fingers up and down her thighs, using her voluminous skirt to hide what he’s doing. When he inches high enough to notice that she’s missing her underwear he raises his eyebrows slightly before parting her with his thumb and forefinger, the feel of him on her enough to make her hiss with pleasure.
“Keep it together,” he says to her under his breath, their conversation almost certainly drowned out by the sound of the radio that the driver has blaring. “Soon.” He doesn’t let up though, his fingers working her over so good that she’s worried she is going to leave a damp mark at the back of her skirt.
When they arrive at Roman’s, Baird pulls her out of the car, his hand clasped tightly around her. Roman swings the door open before they are even at the threshold, ushering them into his house. He barely is ever here, probably only a few weeks per year at most but it’s enormous, immaculately decorated and smells fresh, as though it is cleaned every day. It probably is. Gerri chuckles at the idea of it.
“Drinks?” Roman gestures at his well stocked bar cart and walks over to pour himself a glass of scotch neat. He pours a second for Baird who accepts it with a quick thank you and Gerri watches both of them sipping at their drinks for what feels like an eternity. Finally she can’t take it anymore.
“You guys just go ahead and finish those and I’ll get started by myself, thanks.”
Roman tosses back the rest of his drink and slams his glass down. He grabs her wrist and pulls her quickly through the kitchen and down a long hall to the master bedroom. Her heart races with anticipation. It’s only been a couple of months since she’s seen him like this but it’s still too fucking long.
Roman is on her the minute they cross the threshold of his bedroom, pushing her sweater off her shoulders and then fumbling for the zipper at the back of her dress. Gerri steps out of her heels, kicking them to the side and gets to work on his shirt buttons, suddenly frantic to have her hands on his skin.
“Why do you always wear such complicated shit?” Roman’s voice is a little whiny and she kisses him to shut him up, the vehemence of his lips more than enough to make up for any petulance. With her zipper undone he is able to push her dress down and makes short work of her bra, leaving her completely naked and him still mostly clothed. He pulls his head back to look at her, his eyes coal black and filthy with intention.
“Godfuckingdamn, Gerri.” She leans in to kiss him again, giving up on the shirt and getting to work on his belt, the insistent hardness of his cock evident just below her busy fingers. She almost has him out when Baird presses up behind her, one arm locked around her waist and the other caressing her breast.
“Good girl,” he whispers in her ear. He presses his hands on her shoulders, not hard but enough so that she can read his intentions. He’s already undone his belt and unzipped his pants so once she’s on her knees all she has to do is pull him out of his navy boxers, stroking him the rest of the way to hardness and then running her tongue around the head of his cock.
“Uhu.” Baird’s eyes are half closed as he looks down at her. He pulls the couple of pins from her hair, tossing them aside and then wraps his hands into her long hair, pulling her closer into him, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat before she’s taken even half of it in. “Come on. That’s my good girl.” Gerri takes a few deep breaths through her nose, running her tongue along the underside of Baird’s cock as she sucks him in further and then pushes him out and in over again, one hand gently squeezing his balls.
With her other hand she reaches back towards Roman, unsurprised to find his hand wrapped around himself stroking as he watches her. She replaces it with her own hand, gently massaging along the length of him. “Fuck. Gerri. Fuck.” His voice is tense and low, even just from the feeling of her fingers on him.
Baird tugs at her head, pulling his own cock from her mouth with a pop and then steering her towards Roman. Gerri greedily sucks him in. He’s shorter and thinner than Baird (as is every other man she’s ever met, of course) so she can take him that much deeper, sucking just a little harder in the way she knows that he particularly likes. Baird moves her head back and forth, his hands still tangled into her hair, fucking Roman’s cock with her mouth. “So good, Gerri. You’re taking him so good and deep.” Gerri keeps her mouth on Roman but reaches both hands up to take Baird, stroking him slowly and deeply, tip to base, as he pushes her head harder and Roman’s cock deeper into her throat. She looks up at Roman, his face contorted, his eyes shining down at her as moans rumble from his mouth.
Finally, Roman pushes her away, the pleasure surely too much for him and Gerri turns back to Baird, swirling her tongue over him. She tugs Roman’s hand, urging him to join her down on her knees and then wraps his hand around Baird’s shaft, letting Roman stroke him as Gerri sucks all of him that she can take. Baird groans as she pulses him in and out, her tongue slicking over him in the ways she knows that he likes, her awareness of both of their preferences so complete at this point.
Finally Baird pulls her head back again, lets her catch her breath, and with a hand on the back of Roman’s head, pushes his mouth onto his cock, pushing a little more firmly than he does with Gerri, not seeming to mind that Roman chokes a little. Gerri watches as Roman bobs his head up and down, his pink tongue just visible where it’s curved around the underside of Baird’s cock, rubbing against all his favorite parts as he fucks Roman’s mouth, his hips driving forward with each thrust.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Gerri says. She reaches down and takes Roman back into her hands, his cock still slick with her saliva as she strokes him gently. “So fucking hot.” Roman whimpers at her touch, only lasting a few moments before he pulls his head back.
“I need to fuck you.” He stares at Gerri as he says this. “
Now.”
Gerri smirks up at Baird, who looks down at both of them with affection.
“Of course,” Gerri says, her hands still working on him. “I want that too.”
Baird reaches down and takes her hand, pulling her to standing for just a moment before shoving her back onto the bed. He crawls over her, his big heavy body pressing into her and he kisses her deeply, before rolling onto his back. She knows what he wants. She wants it too. It’s her fucking favorite, both of them inside of her, using her body for their pleasure. She doesn’t always get off this way but might tonight. She’s already so worked up, the anticipating having done more than half of the work.
Gerri pushes herself to kneeling and straddles Baird before sliding down onto his cock, moaning as she goes. He fills her up so fully that it still takes her breath away every single time. His knees haven’t been great lately so this is his preferred position these days anyway, flat on his back with Gerri riding him. Not that they do this all that often by themselves anymore. Baird only seeming to work up enough energy and libido when there was a third (or more) involved and it was going to be an event.
Gerri puts her hands flat on his chest, pushing herself up and and back, already so close to coming from how good he feels inside of her and his pubic bone pressing into her in just the right spot. “Fuck, I’m close.”
“Slow the fuck down,” Roman grumbles, and she feels him kneel on the bed behind her. “I’m not even ready yet.” Gerri can’t stop herself, though, continues to ride Baird’s cock as she lays almost flat on his chest. She hears Roman open the tube of lubricant, moans deeper as his fingers settle over her, first just caressing her gently but then working one finger in, and then another, driving them in and out of her ass, making sure she is ready for him.
“Roman.” She is gasping now. “Hurry up. I fucking need you. Now.” He laughs behind her and Baird digs his fingers tighter into her hips, holding her in place so Roman can get lined up. Gerri gasps at the first press of Roman’s cock against her, moaning long and deep as he presses into her. Fuck, it’s always so tight like this, so fucking full with Baird in her cunt and Roman in her ass and she can’t help herself as she rocks back against both of them.
“Slow down.” Roman’s voice is tense as he tries to hold her back and slow her down. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s not. Please .” She can’t wait anymore. She can’t. She drives herself back, pulling Roman deeper inside of her, crying out at the sensation of both of them filling her up so completely. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
It’s too good. It’s too fucking good and she cant’ stand it. Can’t stand how much she is fucking mad for needing the two of them like this, needing both of them to make her feel this mindblowingly, amazingly pleasured. She’s always loved this act specifically but it’s somehow better when it’s these two specific men, fucking her in exactly the way they know she loves.
Roman reaches around her, squeezing her breast in one hand as he strokes in and out of her. “Fuck, you both feel so fucking good.” He makes a noise like he’s losing his mind, like he can barely hold on any longer and Gerri doesn’t know how it can get much better. But then it does, because Baird reaches up, one finger still stroking her clit with the same rhythm of the thrust of his cock into her, and he wraps his free hand around her throat, squeezing. It’s not hard enough to block her airflow, but it’s enough to restrict it a little and she feels herself go a little panicky, trying to catch her breath.
“Baird.” She gasps, using the little air she has. “Please.” He chuckles low and dangerously, drives his cock harder and faster into her, the sound of their bodies beating together filling the room.
“I know.” He squeezes harder, and she can barely breathe now, feels crazed at the idea of it, everything inside of her tensing up. “I know what my good girl wants.” His hand is so big and strong and she can’t overcome it, can’t pull any breaths into her lungs when it’s trying to stop her. She can’t speak, her mouth opens ineffectively, a small squeak escaping her, as both men fuck into her faster and harder.
“Fucking hell. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Roman mindlessly chants behind her, his hand still clutching her breast as she fucks into her so deep and hard that she can feel him everywhere, can feel him and Baird nearly rubbing against one another, just a small bit of her between them, everything so tight because of the tension in her body and how big they both are. The need for the two of them to keep fucking her this good, the need for her body to draw in some fresh air, to breathe, to finally let go and come, so urgent that it’s almost painful.
She’s almost lightheaded now, her heart is racing, working overtime to compensate for what she is being denied, and she wants to grasp at Baird’s arm to make him let go, but she’s too weak, too battered by them and by this to even move, she can only feel. When her vision starts to go, black spots forming in front of her eyes, blotting out the sight of him, Baird suddenly releases her. She inhales sharply at the same time as the orgasm hits her, her body rhythmically tightening and loosening all over as she rides the waves of intense pleasure racing through her.
She hears both men groaning through their own releases, but as if through a filter, like they are very far away, even as they are pressed up and into her so tightly. All she can really perceive is herself, how fucking amazing this all feels, how she would give almost anything to be able to do it again. In five minutes, in five hours, every single fucking day.
Roman pulls out first, collapsing onto the bed with a long sigh, his breath heaving. Gerri carefully pulls herself off of Baird and situates herself between the two of them, her body forming dozens of touchpoints with both of their bodies as they all catch their breath, all take a minute to let the aftershocks run through them one more time.
Baird starts snoring before her breathing even returns to normal. It’s typical. They rarely have sex just the two of them anymore, it’s usually either with Roman, or some of the others they have arrangements with, but even when it is just the two of them, he’s asleep right after, the exertion just too much for him. Gerri knows his age and decades of drinking and smoking and stress are catching up with him, his body not what it was even in his forties and his early fifties. As he approaches sixty, nights like this are harder than they’ve ever been. But still so fucking worth it, even if he will need to be out for hours to recover.
Roman and Gerri lay there for ages, listening to each other breathe, to Baird snoring, until finally Roman pushes himself up. “I’m gonna shower.” This is not a surprise, he’s a bit of a germaphobe, usually needs to clean himself up after. “Wanna come?”
Gerri nods, gently pushes herself off the bed, pulls the top sheet over and gently drapes it over Baird so he will not get cold. She follows Roman into the bathroom, watches as he tests the water temperature in his enormous shower before pulling her in along with him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.
“Do you know what this reminds me of?” She does of course. She had contrived a trip to California in late September, supposedly for urgent business in the studios, but after a single hour long meeting she had spent the next three days with Roman in a suite at the Four Seasons, alternating cat naps with intense and downright filthy sex for days on end. There had been a huge shower in that suite and they had spent a lot of time in there together. She hadn’t wanted to leave, and would have found a way to stay longer if she hadn’t needed to be back for Victoria’s dance recital.
“Of course.” She squeezes soap into her hand and strokes his cock, both washing it and pleasuring him at the same time. He leans into her, moaning low in his throat, and kisses her hard, his tongue pressed up against hers as he drives his cock in and out of her fist.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts. “Fucking hell, Gerri.” She wants to laugh at him, pleased with how much he wants her, but before she can he pushes her back onto the deep, long tile bench, dropping to his knees in front of her and spreading her legs wide. She lets her head rest back against the wall as he licks into her, his tongue twisting around her clit just exactly perfectly. She can feel so much more of him when she’s bare down there, the roughness of his stubble, the softness of his tongue. She cards her fingers into his wet hair, holding him in place, fucking herself on his tongue and then his fingers.
“That’s perfect, baby,” she breathes. “So perfect.” Roman hums and laps at her harder, his fingers digging into her thighs as they try to squeeze around his head whilst she comes, the power of her orgasm taking her by surprise. Roman is up and on her a moment later, turning her to lie flat and driving his cock into her roughly.
“This is perfect. This. You and me.” She can’t argue with him, just angles her hips higher as he pounds into her, her finger on her clit as she chases her next orgasm, feels it just brush against the tips of her fingers, so close. Roman pulls out just as she starts coming, strokes himself over her so his come lands on her stomach and the underside of her breast. “Fuck, you look good with me all over you.” He says this as the last stripe of come races up her torso, falling just short of her breast, her skin painted with his release.
He stands and pulls down the handheld attachment, rinsing her off carefully before kneeling back on the tile floor, his head resting on her thigh where she is seated. He squints at her and then runs a finger gently along the side of her neck.
“He bruised you.” She’s not surprised. He often does.
“I’ll just wear scarves this week.” It’s not a big deal. It’s never been a big deal.
Roman pulls himself up and over her again, pushes her head to the side and clamps his lips on the other side of her neck, alternately sucking hard and caressing her gently with his tongue. She knows he’s trying to leave his own mark, one that will be red now but will settle into a deep purple by tonight, before fading to yellow by mid-week. She doesn’t stop him.
When he’s satisfied with his work, he rests his head on her breast, his body still nestled between her legs, the warm water hitting just the one side of them as they lay there.
“This is good, right? You and me. It’s perfect.”
“Uhu.” Gerri isn’t sure what else to say but Roman continues.
“Does it ever bother you that he needs it to be you and someone else? Like maybe you’re not enough for him?”
“I don’t know. I never really thought of it that way..”
Gerri remembers the first time they had done this. She was still in law school, Baird a lecturer at the time, how he’d watched as two of his colleagues fucked her in just the way he and Roman had tonight, how he had stroked his cock as he watched, had thrust it into her open mouth as she had her first orgasm. He had come so hard and so much that she almost couldn’t swallow it fast enough. She had never seen him so turned on, not in the previous four months they’d been dating. Nothing had ever been close to how he was that night watching her have multiple intense orgasms from others.
She had never asked him what it was about this, watching her get fucked by other men, that made it so hot for him, but it unquestionably did. He had worked hard at building their sex life around it for more than two decades, either sharing her directly, or watching as others fucked her, but doing it in a way that was discreet enough that they could get away with it. Sometimes he let them touch him, like Roman had tonight, but only at his direction, their mouths on his cock and never the other way around.
She liked it too, had liked it from the beginning, had liked feeling so desired by so many people that they were desperate to fuck her in any way she would let them. She chose this and chose him because it just fucking worked . It’s why they were perfect for one another and always had been. Their desires were compatible from the very beginning. Her best, deepest orgasms were never just with him alone, with any one person alone, she needed more. He needed it too. It was the right thing.
Except.
Except for maybe until recently, she reminds herself.
September. It really had been so very, very good.
“You’re enough for me,” Roman whispers, his breath tracing over her nipple. “You are more than enough for me.”
She imagines it then. What it might be like to be just her and Roman all of the time. Just the two of them and no one else. Like this, like now, like September.
Maybe it could be good, could be right, could be perfect. Maybe.
“I know, baby.” She picks up his hands and kisses his fingertips. “I know.”