Page 34 of Tasty Tentacles

Once he loosened up and didn’t take things too seriously, Orion turned out to be a playful and creative lover. His tentacula add a new spice to the mix, but bodies are bodies, and there are only so many ways bodies fit together. So here we are, all three climbing toward the inevitable peak in a classic three-way setup, but with a new twist.

Orion is laid out on the bed, and we’re using him without mercy. I’m exactly where I want to be, perched on Orion’s unforgivably stiff cock, with the best view in the house: Bertie sitting on Orion’s face.

Bertie gives me an evil smile of pure lust, so I stretch forward for a quick kiss. Then I’m back to my pleasure. Pounding my ass down on that magical cock, feeling him fill me completely, feeling him buck and writhe as he drives in deeper and deeper.

I still can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. My BertieBear loves to get rimmed, usually before he fucks me silly, and Orion is giving him what he wants and more. Bertie slides and grinds, feeding Orion his hungry ass and emitting a steady stream of incoherent moans. He’s near the edge—he only makes that sound when he’s close to the point of no return. The reason is clear: Orion’s wrapping his tentacles up around Bertie’s straining cock, stroking in time with the tongue in my hubby’s ass.

I know what he’s feeling. Orion gave me the same pleasure just minutes ago, before plunging his cock in me. The experience is new, different, like the familiar pleasures of Bertie’s tongue and beard in my most intimate places, but magnified, stimulated with an intensity like never before. They never stop, those remarkable tentacula of his, building layer on layer of sensation.

Bertie is getting that helpless look, like it’s too much but also not enough. His hands dart down and stroke Orion’s nimble tentacles around his bobbing cock. I did the same thing when Orion had his tongue in my ass. I had to feel their strength as they wriggled and writhed under my fingers. The deft way Orion glided them, skin-to-skin, around my cock and balls and teasing inside my ass, then flipping them over to caress with their ginger fur, a shower of different sensations all at once, so it’s impossible to disentangle just one.

I’ve seen it a few times before, this look on Bertie’s face. In a room in Paris on our first vacation together, after a day of art and architecture and romance. The week I finally discovered how deeply his beard obsession is rooted and let mine grow in as long as I dare. The minute the contractors finished our big walk-in shower and we gave it a proper christening. And here it is again, my lover driven to his peak. Who would have thought, just a few short weeks ago, that I would be witness to something so sensational, something so new and impossibly erotic. I watch my lover, deep in ecstasy, and send my thanks—I don’t know where—that there are still mysteries like this in the world. My dick is ramrod hard with the wonder and pleasure of it, and I’m struggling, equally as hard, to hold back until they’re ready. I don’t dare touch myself or I’m lost.

Orion’s pounding gets more frantic and intentional, so I pull up and let him control the rhythm. I catch Bertie’s eye and demand, “Do it, BertieBear. Cum for me,” and he does, magnificently, painting all that ginger fur with stream after stream.

Orion bucks frantically, losing control, and I feel the warmth inside, so I give my cock two quick strokes with a greasy hand and add my cum to Bertie’s, shouting a mighty “Fuuuck yes!” to the ceiling.

I sit down firmly, trapping Orion’s spent cock and pull Bertie over. He flips around and straddles Orion’s stomach, leaning back into me. I allow my hands to roam in a haze of post-coital pleasure, feeling Orion’s comfortable pressure inside, not quite ready to let him go, stroking over Bertie’s firm, furry, sweaty belly, the sumptuous curve I love so much.

Orion lies there, looking like he’s been hit by a train. Bertie runs his hands through the fruits of our labor, then reaches up and smooths his fingers through the golden hairs on his tentacula, sharing our tastes, and Orion heaves a happy, giant-sized sigh.

Bertie is silent, gazing down at a messy and very satisfied Orion, and that’s a rare occurrence. It takes a lot to render my sexy bear speechless, but I feel it too. This man is stunning, and if this day is any indication, it’s just the beginning.

15

BERTIE

“Sorry again about the hit and run,” I say as we’re heading to the door. “But we start baking at 0-dark thirty tomorrow, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

Orion has been quiet since our bedroom adventures, saying only a few words as we straightened up the kitchen and bagged up our empty platters. Quiet, but not worryingly so. He is a shy man, after all, so I’m hoping it’s a satisfied silence. I’m certainly satisfied. My god, that man has a magical tongue, and that cock…swoon!

“Can I get one more kiss?” Hideo asks, and Orion breaks into a full smile. That’s what I want to see! My GingerGiant must be just as happy as I am.

The kiss isn’t quick and chaste this time, not at all like when we arrived. They hug each other and Orion lingers, letting his tentacles dance around my husband’s chin. I feel a rush of, what? Joy? Affection? Lust? Maybe all those things wrapped up together with a bow on top.

They break and Orion looks at me, joking, “I suppose you want one too.”

Then I know it for certain. Our friend is happy and satisfied…and most importantly, getting comfortable with us.

“Come here, handsome,” I say, and get my holiday gift. As his tentacles stroke through my beard, I rethink the whole idea of going home for the night. His bed looked plenty big for three.

“Drop by the bakery tomorrow,” I say, giving him one more hug and a lusty wink. “I’ll set you up with something tasty.”

When we get in the car, Hideo has gone all quiet too. He was enthusiastic all evening, and wow, he made all the right noises when Orion was pounding him, but maybe he’s having second thoughts. We’ve never invited anyone into our bed before, and that’s bound to knock both of us out of our comfortable groove.

As he steers us into the street, I reach over and squeeze his leg.

“Everything okay, Hidie-ho?”

“I think so,” he says, and adds in a distracted voice, “He’s a remarkable man.”

“Seriously,” I say. “Are you okay with this?”

He glances over and snaps back to himself.

“Yes, cutie. I’m okay with this. More than okay. I was just remembering the look on your face.”

“Oh?” I prompt.