“I want to see you with another guy.”.
When Gabriel tells me his fantasy, I want to laugh it off, pretend it’s a joke. But I know it isn’t–he’s serious. I’m all for a little daring in the bedroom, but this is too risky. It gets even worse when Gabriel reveals who he wants me to sleep with: Nye, the only other man who’s ever tempted me.
I soon realize there’s more to Gabriel’s game than simple voyeurism. But whatever Gabriel wants, Gabriel gets…
Note: This story is also available in the collection Mine to Dare
“I want to see you with another guy.”
Gabriel’s staring at me from behind the heavy frames of his glasses, his brown puppy dog eyes full of aching sincerity.
“Yeah,” I laugh, between mouthfuls of cornflakes, “course you do.” What the hell sort of bloke wants to see his girl going at it with another guy. Only Gabriel doesn’t laugh along with me. His gaze remains fixed, watching me dip my spoon into the milk and lift it up again. He watches me chew and daub my lips clean.
“I’m serious, Em. I want to watch him go down on you, see him lick your pussy and then fill you with his dick. I want to watch everything, your blush, each caress. I want to hear every squeak and each word he makes you hiss. I want to see your eyes light up as you come.”
“Hm…” I respond. It strikes me that he can do all of those things without involving another man. “What makes you think I want to have sex with another man? I’ve you. One cock is plenty enough.” Embarrassment makes me brusque, and I want to laugh this off, pretend it’s all a joke, but I know it isn’t. Gabriel’s voice is soft, and he’s still. Really still. Gabriel’s always composed when he’s serious, like he has to hold himself in check for fear of being misinterpreted.
He hops up onto one of the high breakfast stools and leans across the countertop towards me. His long fingertips steeple and tap the edge of my cereal bowl. “You’re quite sure about that? You’ve never dreamed about having two guys? I thought that was standard female fantasy these days.”
His cocky nonchalance is an act. He’s invested in this. I can sense it.
“So, we’re talking about threesomes now, are we?” I raise my brows, trying to keep the conversation light, but failing. This is hardly our typical 7AM subject matter. Normally this early, we converse in guttural grunts and yawns.
Gabriel thinks a moment, tapping the bowl again before pressing his index fingers to his succulent pout. “No,” he answers slowly, voice still steady. “I don’t want to be part of it. I just want to watch.” A smile creeps into the depths of his eyes as he speaks, and dimples appear in his left cheek. “Say you’re game. Please, Em. I really want to watch you.”
The thing with Gabriel is that what he wants he nearly always gets. I don’t know if it’s some weird ass talent he has, or simple good luck, and normally I enjoy watching things unfold, but now I’m slap bang at the centre of that want, I’m not feeling quite so cool.
Breakfast done, I hop down from my perch and drop the bowl into the sink. A wan smile still plays upon his lips and his gaze never leaves me as he follows me into the living room. I’m all for games and a little daring in the bedroom, but this seems particularly transgressive. He’s asking me to fuck someone else, after months of being only with him. I don’t know. Part of me is alarmed; the rest is lining up fantasy candidates like cruising for extra cock is part of my normal routine. I can’t help it. We all have our rainy day guys, right?
I slip on my coat, ready to head out the door. “Was there someone you had in mind?” I throw at him as a parting remark. I figure there must be someone. He’s obviously been planning this out. Gabriel doesn’t do spontaneity, not that I’ve witnessed anyway.
Gabe waits until after we’ve kissed goodbye and I’ve one foot over the threshold before he replies, “Yes, absolutely. I think you should do it with Nye.”
The notion hits me like a sucker punch to the groin. I gulp goldfish style and wobble down the steps in my ballerina flats as if they’re three inch heels, before tottering off towards the car, mouth dry, and my heart racing. Nye—that’s just unfair. I squirm on the driver’s seat once I’m inside, giving my girly bits some welcome friction before pulling off. Nye—it’s a ludicrous suggestion, but the thought is now lodged in my head, and my pulse starts to tango.
We can’t make this real. Hell, there’s too much risk. Nye’s already on my approach with caution, and only while wearing steel panties list. Actually, he’s the only person on that list. Give me reality over a movie star any day, my A list fantasies ended along with high school.
Dear God… I love Gabriel, I genuinely do, but if there’s one man out of the thousands that live in this town that I’d ever been tempted by, then Nye’s the one. God help me, he’s the one. And clearly my boyfriend knows it.