Fandom: Life on Mars
Rating: G. As in “Gee, this is, in fact, very explicit porn.” NC-17
Word Count: 1000 words or thereabouts.
Notes: blancafic is evil. This is Sam/Annie/Gene, because that is what she requested. My first threesome fic. Possibly my only threesome fic. And yes, it's very much PWP.
Annie’s so soft and warm, her red lips parted. She wraps her legs around him and lets him fondle her breasts and --- God, this is… yeah… uh, what was he doing? Yeah. That’s right. That’s so right. It’s right. It’s right. It’s make-believe. His cot is making obscenely loud screeching noises as he strokes himself and rocks his hips up, his fist tight around his cock. He concentrates on his mental imagery, holding hard and trying to get this to last longer. He needs longer. He needs more. Annie’s giving herself to him.
Her moans are low and run into one another, until he’s not sure if it’s lots of little sounds or one big sound, but he’s sure it’s musical. She’s pitching into him. Riding him. Pushing him to his limits. He’s breathing, hard, capturing her mouth with his. She’s shuddering and squeaking and her legs feel taut against him as he starts to move faster, harder. And he’s gone. His voice calls out with an urgent guttural growl as he spurts over his knuckles, sticky and wonderful.
He’s bucking up into his hand, slick and smooth. He’s thinking about Gene. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he’s mad. He’s so turned on. He’s remembering Gene’s hands on his lapels, dragging him forward. He’s remembering orders being barked at him. He’s remembering eyes that shoot daggers and punches that bruise. And he hates it. He completely hates it when Gene acts like he owns him. He loves it.
His head is pounding, there’s sweat running down his forehead to his lips, all salt and sweet. And he’s pumping, still pumping, still --- words fail him. He gasps. His senses surge. His thighs are straining, his feet flat against the bed sheets. Every muscle in his body is tense. And Gene is licking him. In his mind. He’s licking his cheek and coming over to lick at his lips, and placing a warm but firm hand just at the base of Sam’s cock and Sam’s coming, all over his hand, the air in his chest releasing along with every little unravelling part of his body.
They’ve drunk too much. They’re in his flat and laughing, too close, closer than they should be. Sam feels hazed, dazed, unable to concentrate on anything but the heat of the two bodies next to his. He stands up to get another bottle of wine and Gene’s hand drags him back down to the sofa. Sam shakes his head, can’t quite speak, gets up again, makes it to the kitchen.
“Want some company?”
Sam frowns at Annie, confused. She glides up to him, pressing against him. Sam doesn’t move. He reaches towards her. Then Gene’s there. Standing and watching. Stepping forward and taking over.
This isn’t his imagination. It’s real. It’s nothing like his fantasies. Gene’s kissing Annie and pawing at his trousers at the same time. Sam’s stroking his hand up Annie’s back and curling his fingers into her smooth, wavy hair. His heartbeat is driving, compelling him to more action. He pushes Gene away from Annie and undoes her shirt, undoes her bra – glances at her for a second just to convince himself that this time it’s everything.
Gene’s taking off his tie, Sam can see it in his peripheral vision. And then Gene’s holding Sam’s hands by his sides and biting gently on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. Annie’s kneeling and starting to lick his cock, her tongue wet and just the other side of cruel, infuriatingly slow and teasing. Gene turns to the side, grabs Sam’s head and kisses him; punishing, unsparing. Sam’s torn. Distracted. Overloaded.
He can’t be in two places at once and there are two people demanding him. Annie, sweet and accommodating. Gene, sharp and expecting to be accommodated. It’s the best thing ever. He only wishes he had an imagination this vivid. Annie’s got her hand around him now, and she’s sucking and pulling off and sucking again. Gene’s thrusting his tongue inside his mouth, tasting of scotch and tobacco, clutching at one of his shoulders. It’s so – it’s so – God, it’s so good, ridiculously good, just yes. Yes. God, please, yes.
Sam climaxes. It’s a force to be reckoned with. His entire body pulses. He loses all sense of time and space. It’s the single strongest moment of joy he has ever felt. His knees have gone weak, he’s not sure he can hold himself up, and Gene’s hands are strong against his arms so he doesn’t have to.
He takes a moment. He needs to catch his breath. His need to bring Annie and Gene to the edge is stronger. He pulls away and his eyes burn hot as he takes Annie’s hand and leads her to the bed. He pulls her skirt up, pulls her knickers down and feels how wet she is. She’s so beautiful. His breath catches in his throat. Gene’s grunting, a hand around his own cock, pumping.
“Leave it,” Sam says to the side, his fingers sliding up Annie’s thighs.
Gene slows down but doesn’t stop.
“Do I need to get the cuffs? Just wait. You can wait, can’t you? You’ll be soon.”
“I can’t wait long, Sammy-boy.” Gene’s voice is harsh and strained. And that’s when Annie signals to him, tells him to get close and she’s up on her elbows, her breasts bouncing gently as Gene guides his cock into her mouth. Sam licks at Annie, uses his long fingers to brush and caress. She rocks into him with tiny movements, unable to move too much, but not seeming to mind.
They’re joined. All three of them. Different elements of a cohesive whole. And it’s not mad. It’s not wrong. It’s all he wants. Sam feels Annie tighten around him. Hears Gene break into a million little pieces. And he grins, laughter deep in his throat. They’re a mess. They’re a tangle. They’re perfect.