Page 28 of A Treasure To Keep
“What do you want?” At least these boots would be too difficult to take off and shove up his ass. This dress is also too tight to kick his ass. It must be his lucky day.
“I want to ideally not argue with you, but I don’t see that happening.” I walk past him to the front door, Marco keeping pace with me, one of his footsteps equaling two of mine.
I whip around when we approach the door, taken aback by how close Marco is standing. “I will castrate you if you turn Andrea into your plaything. He deserves better. If you can’t realize that, you need to part ways. Now!” I open the door, slamming it behind me. Unfortunately, Marco catches it before it shuts on his stupid, handsome caveman face.
“You’re missing the entire point, El. Until now, you two have only added a third for fun. This is—” Marco turns his head, mine following his when I notice Luci is standing there, close enough she can hear our argument.
“Oh, hey, doll. Marco, you go do whatever stupid men do because Luci and I have a baby shower to plan.” I shove him toward the stairs that lead up to his bedroom, then turn toward Luci. Plot twist about her baby shower: I have the whole thing planned. All she has to do is approve or nix my ideas.
After my afternoon with Luci, I head home to Andrea. We recap the baby shower plans, including how to get Alessandro out of the house for the afternoon. After that, I live up to my promise for the bondage session Andrea deserves.
Chapter 30
Andrea
It’s been a few days since our argument about how Marco views us. El refuses to speak to him, and as usual, I’m the middleman. He contacted me the evening of the fight, wanting to talk about it. It wasn’t much of a conversation. Mostly him rambling and stuttering about this whole relationship. Or whatever this is considered. Since that night, there’s been radio silence.
Imagine my surprise when I notice his eleven o’clock styling this morning. Before I can dwell on it too much, I receive the notification that he’s arrived for his appointment.
He stands from the bench when he notices me, handing me a bag from my favorite bakery. Most days, it’s out of my way and doesn’t have a bus stop nearby, making it inconvenient to get to. The owner is an old French woman whose eyes light up on the rare occasion I can stop in. She says I remind her of a young version of her husband, who passed about a decade ago. Since then, she gets pleasure from working beyond the averageretirement age to keep herself busy. When I open the bag, I notice six pastries and the wrapping of two missing pastries.
“I needed to run by the bar and remembered you said this was your favorite place to get pastries at. I got you what the owner said were her most popular items, since I wasn’t sure what you normally get. You’re right, it’s fucking delicious.”
I mentioned it in passing the night of Alessandro’s bachelor party, getting no response in return. I can’t believe that Marco was listening and remembered. “Thank you. That’s extremely thoughtful of you. Is this why you came here? You spent thousands of dollars around the time Alessandro and Luci were supposed to get married. I didn’t expect you to need more this soon.”
“The pastries were an afterthought. I ripped my jeans.” He shows me what jeans he’s talking about, a massive rip practically tearing the jeans in half.
“What did you do? We both know James could salvage these. She’s back from maternity leave as of yesterday.” James, our seamstress, is the best in her field, able to fix anything and everything.
“I was in our gambling room last night, and a fight broke out. When I was body slamming this guy on the table, I slipped on a spilled drink and found out that I could do the splits. That’s a cool new party trick. I planned on taking these down to James, taking a quick look at her tits in the meantime. I wanted to talk to you first.” Those five sentences describe Marco more than anything else could.
I take the jeans from him, folding them nicely to send down to James. It’s ridiculous how he balled up these jeans. “Puis parle.” I face Marco and realize all he would need is to scratch his ass to become the ape he is. “Then speak.”
“Oh. It would still be easier if you spoke a language I knew. I’ve had a few days to process what I need to say withoutrambling. This relationship, or whatever it is, is different. This being you, El, and I. More specifically, you and I. I’ve had threesomes with two dudes, but normally, the woman is stuffed. The bottom line is, I enjoy fucking you and El. It’s not even that by itself. I enjoy being around you two, even if El drives me crazy. I never realized until recently how you level El and my personality out. It’s nice. I want to continue whatever the fuck we’re doing.” Marco spends a lot of his days outside of work annoying El and making sarcastic comments. Seeing the genuineness on his face catches me off guard. He’s telling the truth.
“I have to say that’s the most eloquent I believe I’ve ever heard you speak. It’s okay that you’re exploring things. That’s the only way you’ll find anything out. I enjoy being intimate with you, and whether El will admit it or not, she does, too. And intimacy isn’t only linked to sex. It’s everything else that happens in the oasis of El and my apartment. I have no issues continuing our relationship. I’ll speak to El about this, too. She will be the harder one to convince.”
“Speaking of El, I heard you two often fuck each other here. Show me where.” He smirks as he stands over me, his large tattooed frame standing at least eight inches taller than mine. My cock twitches in my pants at the thrill of hiding in the dressing room with him.
“In the dressing rooms. Follow me.” I show him into the dressing rooms El and I often hide in, more times than not, being caught by Mr. Hansley.
I shut and lock the door, knowing that at any point someone can come in, noticing our feet below the door. There’s also the fact that anyone who works here has access to the keys that open any of the dressing room doors. The thrill sends adrenaline through my body, similar to how it is with El when we make love to each other in public.
“On your knees, Andrea. Let me fuck that handsome face. Allow me to slide my thick cock down your welcoming throat.” I drop to my knees, unbuttoning his pants as his dick practically springs out from underneath. He’s as hard for me as I am for him. Perfect. I grasp him in my hand, eyeing the shiny bead of pre-cum before I lick Marco’s slit, simultaneously sending shivers through his body. Suddenly, Marco grabs my hair, yanking me back as he stares down at me.
“Are you trying to figure out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop or are you sucking my cock?” Marco doesn’t give me time to answer before he shoves his dick down my throat, making me gag when he catches me off guard.
“Andrea. Andrea, where are you?” Mr. Hansley comes in, and my heart rate picks up. He catches El and me often, but what would he do if he caught me with a client? “I noticed Mr. Cornado has a styling appointment today. What are you doing in there with him?”
Marco takes my head, shoving his dick as far down as it can go, triggering tears that blur my vision. He tilts his chin down, smirking while he answers my boss. “Andrea is helping me with the inseam of my pants. He’s trying to pay attention and has something in his mouth. He’ll find you when I’m done with him.”
Mr. Hansley walks out of the dressing room without a word, leaving Marco and me alone with my nose pressed against his pubic bone. I focus on taking myself out, jerking my dick to the same rhythm he fucks my face with.
“Jesus Christ, Andrea. Are you that needy for my cum that you need to touch yourself? Is that why you took your cock out? Or was it the thrill of getting caught? Or how you couldn’t breathe when I shoved my dick down your throat? Tell me, Andrea. Oh, that’s right, your mouth is a little preoccupied. Come, Andrea. Milk yourself while you swallow all my cum.”
I moan when he talks to me, and I can sense my orgasm coming. I’m desperate and needy, but need to keep myself on edge until I taste his warm salty cum. Seconds later, the head of his dick swells. Almost instantly, when the liquid saturates my tongue, I spill cum all over the floor. He pulls me up by my neck, close enough that I think he may kiss me for a moment, until he steps back and tucks himself back in his pants.
“I should go see James about my pants. Have a nice day and enjoy the aftertaste of my cum.” Marco exits the dressing room, leaving me with my pants unzipped and my cum on the floor for me to clean up. I spend the rest of the day as he said, the ghost of his cum left in my mouth while I see clients. When I’m off work, I’ll go home and make love to El, wondering if she can taste what is left over from Marco and my fling.