person sitting in industrial basket on wheels

“Demure” by Molly Tanzer

Open this story in our mobile app!

She has orchestrated the two of them back to the hotel room, mixing cocktails as they make out on the bed. Crawling between them with the drinks, she wonders if she can get them drunk enough to include her.

About the Author
Molly Tanzer is the author of forthcoming novel Creatures of Will and Temper (November 2017) as well as Vermilion, The Pleasure Merchant, and the British Fantasy and Wonderland Book Award-nominated collection-cum-mosaic novel A Pretty Mouth. Her short fiction has appeared in Lightspeed Magazine, Nightmare Magazine, and Transcendent: The Year’s Best Transgender and Genderqueer Speculative Fiction, as well as many other locations. Her editorial projects include Congress Magazine, which publishes thoughtful erotica; she is also the co-editor of Swords v Cthulhu with Jesse Bullington, as well as the forthcoming Mixed Up! with Nick Mamatas (October 2017). She lives in Longmont, CO.

I’m struggling to mix drinks on the cramped dresser as there’s no proper bar in my hotel room. They’re pretty much ignoring me, chatting about the fundraiser. Who gave what, who wore what. Who left with whom. There’s a chair in this room, but they eschewed it, electing to sit on the bed. Together. This pleases me; gets my hopes up. I’m even more pleased and hopeful when they go quiet; I turn, shaker in hand… yep—they’re kissing, going at it like I’m not even here. It’s fucking hot, and I watch, mesmerized, until I can’t take it any more. That’s when I pour the drinks, floating the blackberry liqueur to get the desired “bramble” effect as it drizzles down through all the cracked ice and lemon and gin. I sacrifice mine for the moment, setting it aside and grabbing theirs, one in each hand, before gingerly knee-walking across the bed to meet them.

“Help me out—I can’t drink all three of these,” I say, nudging in between them as I hand over the cocktails.

I can sense their impatience. I’m in their way. But, for politeness’ sake they take the cups and sip. I look from one to the other, watching the way their lips curl over the edge; the way their Adam’s apples move as they swallow. I squirm a little, excited as I wonder if their throats would—if they will—move the same way when they’re sucking each other off. Once I stop distracting them, I mean.

“All right?” I ask, jutting my chin toward the blond one’s drink.

“Delicious,” he says quickly upon being reminded of his manners. “What is it?”

“A bramble. Crème de mûre is the purple stuff,” I say.

“You carry crème de mûre in your portable bar?” The darker one is intrigued.

“When I want to impress people, I do.”

“You wanted to impress us?” says blondie.

“Mostly I wanted to get you tipsy to see if you’d make out,” I say, “but turns out you didn’t need the urging. Ah well; maybe if I get you drunk enough you’ll let me join in.”

“Hmm, what do you think,” says the darker one, his bright eyes sparkling, but not at me. “Should we?”

“I don’t know; seems unnecessary,” muses blondie.

They’re teasing me, and for the sake of the game, I pretend to seem anxious. Actually, I am anxious. I want them both. Badly. I’m already wet; I can smell it. I wonder if they’re catching the scent of my cunt too, or if I’m just being weird.

Blondie’s jacket is still on. The dark one in his shirtsleeves. I want to unbutton his waistcoat, strip him down. I want him naked to the waist while blondie stays as dressed as he can. But I don’t say any of this. I know I have to let them decide what to do.

“Give me a chance to prove how necessary I can be,” I breathe. I flip my hair to one side, then fluff it out with my fingers. It’s my best seductive gesture, and I pray it works. “I mean, those drinks…”

“They are good drinks,” concedes blondie, and after another sip he says, “All right… if you can get my cock out using only your teeth, you can join.”

I scoot out from between them, concentrating hard on not awkwardly stumbling around the soft bed. Blondie smiles, and there’s a bit of cruelty as he watches me, his back against the padded hotel headboard. The dark one is lounging on his side, head propped on hand. He’s also smiling, but there’s humor in his expression as I carefully arrange myself—the LBD was a good choice for getting here, clearly, but now it’s limiting my ability to do what I need to do.

I get on all fours and dip my head toward blondie’s crotch. The leather smell of his belt is dizzying alongside the bouquet of blackberries and citrus and gin. I concentrate; get the part threaded through the buckle in my teeth, and pull.

“Look at her go,” observes the dark one. “She really wants it.”

I do, I think, as I yank the tip to get the clasp to pop out of the hole. Another tug and I have it, though I have to poke my nose under the fallen ends to get to the button.

“Don’t chip a tooth,” advises the dark one.

I’m drooling by the time I get the button threaded through the hole, but I’ve got it—almost. There’s still the zipper.

I get that too.

“No fair,” I say, when I see he’s wearing y-fronts. I love how I can see everything outlined beneath the thin fabric, but his dick will be hell to get free.

“Nothing’s fair, not in this life,” says Blondie, as he scoots down a little on the bed.

The aroma of his cock is bewitching. I nuzzle it; it stiffens at my touch, and I’m pleased to see I’m not the only one aroused by my display of desire.

I cut to the chase. Hooking my teeth into the elastic, I pull down his undies. His half-hard dick flops out, bouncing off my nose. It’s soft and so warm.

It’s only when he pushes my dress up over my ass and pulls my stockings down that I realize the dark one’s gotten around behind me. The warmth from his body and the coolness of the air conditioning on my bare flesh is more intoxicating than any cocktail.

“Come on. Go for it, since you wanted it so bad,” says blondie,

The dark one runs his finger along my slit, over my panties. I moan, and take blondie in my mouth as his companion pushes aside the thin cotton and slides a finger inside me.

“Mnnngh,” I moan around blondie’s cock. It’s a long one, and I get it as deep as I can before he gets too hard.

“Inspired,” observes the dark one, widening me with a second finger.

“Inspire her more,” demands blondie. Then he takes a sip of his drink.

I can’t tell if he’s actually bored or just taunting me. Regardless, I redouble my efforts.

The dark one withdraws his fingers. That heady sound of a zipper again, and then he’s rubbing his cock against my cunt. Fingers return, to open me, and he pushes inside. I haven’t seen it, but oh god, it’s a thick one. I feel it stretching me as he gets deeper and deeper.

“Hnnukk!” I almost gag as I’m thrust forward onto blondie’s dick when his friend thrusts inside me.

“Mmmh,” grunts blondie, at long last. I glance up; his eyes are closed now. He still has on his jacket, just like I imagined.

He’s fucking me with a weird rhythm, withdrawing with agonizing slowness and then slamming into me as hard as he can. I want him to pick up the pace, but he seems to be enjoying toying with me.

“Cut that shit out,” snaps blondie, eventually. Well, it’s messing up my rhythm too.

“Oh fine,” says the dark one, and finally—finally—he starts fucking me in earnest. Hands encircle my waist, and I am pulled and pushed onto his cock. I’m almost passive, sucking off blondie without even bobbing my head. I have disappeared between them.

“Oh fuck,” says blondie.

The dark one laughs, and slaps my ass. The feeling crackles along my skin and the sound through my ears.

“Come on her face,” advises the dark one.

“You want to see it?” asks blondie, but he’s not asking me.

“Fuck yeah,” says the dark one.

He takes it out of my mouth; I watch as he tugs himself a few times, and then his load spatters my face in thick bursts. Some flies past me, and I wonder if it’s in my hair, when I hear,

“Hey!” from the dark one, and a hand leaves my waist.

“Sorry,” gasps blondie. I strain forward, trying to lick the last drops of it where it’s oozing over the tip when the dark one leans into me. I fall forward onto my elbows as the hand that left my waist goes to my clit. He strokes it a few times, and I’m so excited that’s all it takes. I buck beneath his touch as I orgasm with an unladylike grunt.

“Yeah,” he says, clearly delighted, and then he’s into his short thrusts. A few almost painful jerks and I feel him come inside me.

“Fuck,” I say, and fall forward onto blondie’s lap. He’s recovered enough that he’s retrieved his drink, is sipping it as I snuggle into him, exhausted, the weight of his companion heavy on my back. He’s followed me down; he doesn’t seem to want to withdraw, not yet.

“I’m parched. Hand me my cocktail?” the dark one says, but not to me.

I just hope they want me to fix them another round.

More stories from Molly Tanzer