Unknown Desires

Unknown Desires
Show: Fastlane
Pairing: Billie/Van/Deaq
Summary: A three some, with a little something unexpected.
AN: I was totally experimenting when I wrote this. Please don’t kill me! BTW, totally AU, and written in Billie’s POV.
Disclaimer: This story containes explicite sexual acts and may be inappropriate for anyone under the age of 18 (yadda yadda yadda). This story also containes characters that I did not create. Remember, I'm just borrowing. No money making. Only love making! (God, that was corny!)

I don't realize I have dozed until one of them moves. It's Van under my arm, my arm across his shoulders, Van up beside me on the pillows. His eyes are closed, sleeping, so I think, in his sleep nuzzling my side just below my breast, with his lips. It's a cozy sensation. Intimate, tender. I resist opening my eyes until the touch becomes a tickle and I squirm away.

It's three am and the candles on the floor, spread around the bed, have burned down, some of them gone out. The CD player is quiet. The room is quiet and hung with the last of the incense. One of them has smoked a cigarette. I don't like that, not in my room. If they want to smoke in living room, that's fine. I'll light some more incense later.

Van opens his eyes, glances up at me, his eyes glimmering in the soft light. There is an odd appeal in them, something I don't comprehend. For a minute I think the fool might love me, and I tweak his nose. The moment I'm sure he loves me he would be out of here, banished from my bed forever, or at least until he didn't love me any more. I don't want to banish him. I enjoy having someone I can call, at any time, to come and visit me and make me feel nice.

And he's good at making me feel nice. He's athletic, body tanned and almost hairless except for the fuzz around his penis. I like his brown hair, the wave in it when it gets too long, when he doesn't bother to comb it. I run my fingers through it when I come. I brush it while we watch television together, Van sitting on the floor between my knees, and the softness of it makes me want him. It is this, that at these other ordinary times I enjoy the presence of him, which makes the sex with him good for me.

He kisses me, the side of my breast, and I stroke his cheek. I don't want sex. I've had enough. Some nights when I bring him to my bed he wants me three, four, five times. I let him do as he pleases. There are times when I've got my period and pimples on my chin and hair like straw, feeling like shit, the unsexiest woman on earth, my whole world going wrong, and there's Van adoring my breasts with kisses, telling me I'm beautiful. How can I refuse this? I don't.

Deaq moves and I realize he's lying with a leg over my feet. I pull them out, ease the toes. I have to think, which one made love to me tonight? I don't let both of them do it, not in the same night. I'm not like that. Though I know they want to sometimes. It's fun to see them decide who gets the pussy. I prefer Van, but I don't say so. If it's not Van, then anyway he's the one I kiss. Deaq makes me come, but it's Van's hair that I pull and stroke.

Deaq the photographer... He spent months trying to get me to take my clothes off for him, to take pictures. Now lately he's got it into his head he wants to photograph my pussy. He thinks up poses that will reveal me to him. I avoid them. He gets excited and has to put the camera down and eat me for a while, and I spread, shamelessly. He thinks if he can get me panting I'll do it. So I pant and he fetches up the camera and before he can stop it shaking I shut my legs. No you don't. I'm the frog who won't sing. One afternoon I got into a gymnastic pose and covered myself, just, with a hand. He photographed that and there's a print on our refrigerator. My father hates it. My mother says I should shave more.

Deaq is a photographer because he's a voyeur. Or he's a voyeur because he's a photographer. Either way it doesn't matter. The result is the same. There are times on the bed when he sits away and just watches. Something takes his fancy, and I can see him ask himself, “How do I capture that?” We are similar in this. A face peering over my bush is a very sexy image. While I should be having orgasms, I might find myself wondering,” How do I write that?”

I hear a murmur from Deaq, and Van squirms against me. I see why. We are in a triangle on the bed, Deaq with his head resting on Van's calf. He gently touches Van's erection, swirls his fingers around it. He presses with the palm, massages the loose testicles, holds them flat. Then his fingers glide up along the shaft once more, to the glans, warming it with a feather-light caress.

Van squirms because it is pleasant. And his whole body flows with the same pensive undulation as whenever my mouth first goes over him. He watches Deaq, his hand on my breast. I move to sit up, to watch them, and his hand follows, won't let go, holds my breast tight. He presses his cheek to it. He likes what Deaq is doing, but he needs me. Deaq masturbates him slowly and Van squeezes my breast a little tighter. I move for him, put the nipple at his lips, and he closes his eyes with a small moan of submission, suckles at me. I touch his face and he's like a child, sucking greedily. As he sucks he pushes with his hips, pushes his penis back and forth through Deaq's fingers, getting faster as though the sooner the better. But Deaq knows better, slows him down.

Deaq pushes Van's penis across out of the way, holds and thumbs the glans, kisses his belly, bites the skin. He flicks his tongue at Van's testicles, jostling them in the loose sac, licks between them, noisily. He kisses behind, hard, presses his lips and does something that makes Van jerk and arch his back and moan into my nipple. His scrotum shrivels and hardens. He breathes heavily through his nose.

He fills his mouth with my nipple, sucks me hard, and I am learning that he must be very sensitive just there under his balls, where, if he were a girl, his hole would be. I've never gone there. Never bothered about it. And I'm as piqued and intrigued that Deaq knows something about a man's oral pleasure that I don't. But of course, why not? I defer, and watch, getting freshly wet.

And that is very sexy, a bearded, bristling mouth slipping over a penis. Van tenses, relaxes, tenses. He opens his eyes and again there is that strangely boyish appeal. I wonder, “Do you want me to do it… with him?”

He pushes up, angrily, annoyed with me. He is telling me he is not a coward, I shouldn't presume. And I don't like this sudden rejection. Of the two I would call Van my lover. I touch his arm, want him back at my breast, but he shrugs me away, sits up. Deaq, unconcerned, is busy in Van's lap.

Van leaves me, goes down to play with Deaq, pushes him over onto his back. Deaq nearly falls off the end of the bed. I make room for them, and they take the time to get comfortable, Van crouched over Deaq at my feet. I hug the pillows.

Perhaps tomorrow, with me not around, if they do this again, there will be sexual violence and aggression, raw masculine lust. I don't see any of this. I see a tenderness and affection. Like this they make love to one another's penises, kisses and licks and little sucks directly on the glans. Van looks deliciously vulnerable, his ass in the air, cock stretched down into Deaq's mouth. Deaq's penis is short but very hard and thick, and Van sighs and swallows all of it, then holds and pats and looks at it as if he's never seen a cock before.

Deaq is the first to come. Van is not so brave after all. He masturbates Deaq hard, points the penis away so it shoots down onto the bed. Almost immediately Van draws a sharp breath and shivers, closes his eyes, head falling limp from his shoulders. Something very nice is happening. He groans out loud and claws Deaq's thigh, pulls himself from the tormenting mouth and comes in the air, his unattended cock jerking madly with the spasms, spraying everywhere.

He is still panting, softly, not yet recovered, and climbs away from Deaq and slumps next to me as though exhausted. Without a word, Deaq too seems very tired, gets up and leaves, gone to his room.

I kiss Van, hold him tight. He snuggles close and wants my breasts again.

Fin!