Reese Gabriel - Captured!--On Film

"We don't want other blood,” said Julie. “We want yours."

Now it was her prompting Grigori so they could both remove their shirts. Their chests were as smooth and flawless and gender appropriate as he'd remembered-the man's sharp and muscular, the woman's healthy and curved.

"You are both crazy,” he shook his head.

"Probably,” Julie concurred.

Grigori dunked his head to kiss the man's feet. “Maestro,” he resurfaced. “Claim us, possess us and mold us. We need you. You are half of our whole."

Julie was working on Giovanni's trousers, exposing him.

"I am a terrible bore to live with,” he said. “I am argumentative and I hate to share the blankets."

"Then we'll stay where it's too warm to need them,” Julie reasoned, exposing his cock.

Giovanni sighed, putting his hands on her shoulders. “No one has touched me since we parted ways,” he confessed. “There has been no one else."

"For us either.” Grigori said, wading behind Giovanni to help pull down his pants. “Our hearts found no home but with each other … but we need you, too."

He let them pull off his pants. It was difficult to ignore this sort of persuasion, the beautiful Daskalovian kissing his ass cheeks and the equally beautiful American kissing his genitals. His cock responded happily, eager to feel those familiar lips.

"I've missed you both,” he confessed. “Terribly."

It was a hard thing to say, terrifying even. To admit such feelings was to make himself vulnerable. And to a triad-how much more fragile was that than a conventional one-on-one relationship? Still, there was more here than just the sex. These two reopened the veins to his youth. It was no accident, it seemed, that he had chosen them for his film. It had indeed reflected personal desire.

Julie's mouth wrapped round him while Grigori's tongue probed teasingly from behind. He wanted them both, every part of them at once. He wanted to roll with them in the ocean, to lock arms and legs, to lick and nibble and be washed away again and again in the salt water. The rising tide taking them and their desire, filling and emptying again and again.

Magically, the rest of their clothes disappeared. Their bodies made their impressions in the sand and they interlocked themselves, hands feverish and mouths. Youth and age, Italian, Daskalovian and English moans, one woman, two men, living out an ancient story, but still unique to them.

Giovanni was greedy this time, wanting the come of both his partners in his mouth. He swallowed from each, enjoying their boisterous orgasms. Following this, he laid on his back so they could love him, kissing and caressing till he exploded deep into Julie's pussy as she rode him on into the afternoon.

Finally, when all were satisfied, they laid together, no words, just a huddling, sure and absolute. The Maestro did not seek to fight back the tears but let them mingle with the salt water. He was happy. Vulnerable, open, and happy. All three together, for the first time in his life.

Three feelings, three lovers, three wishes.

Happily ever after.