About Scene for Three

by Mike Shade
42 pages / 15600 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-244-7, 1-60370-244-X
Available file types - lit, pdf, prc, html

Joe tops for a living. He and his whip are famous, if he does say so himself, but he's never really met people who live the lifestyle that he creates for his job. Then he meets Vic and Robbie, the most intriguing couple he's ever seen. So when they invite him to come home with him, he doesn't even have to think before saying yes. They fascinate him. Vic is the top, a deaf ex-fireman with an intensity that burns so bright it's blinding. Robbie is the bottom, hot and handsome and devoted to Vic. Together, they show Joe that what he does for money can be real, and that he can find a place between the top and the bottom. A place where he belongs.

Sample

Joe was pumped, feeling loose and high, the adrenaline just going through him.

He and Boy Rose had just finished their show and it had gotten intense, his whip laying down lash after lash, Boy just taking it like the pain slut he was. Boy was the only one of the crew who lived the life, who was a for real full time bottom, so he could take a lot more than the other guys and the shows wound up having an edge that made Joe rock hard.

After setting Boy up in the back room, lying on his stomach with aloe and antiseptic on his back, Joe headed back out to the front of the bar. He dropped onto one of the bar stools and gave Mike a wide grin. "Vodka, neat."

He drummed his fingers on the bar, just to keep himself from spinning in his seat. Maybe he'd find himself someone to get off with, maybe he'd just head out and walk and walk until the buzz faded. He hadn't decided yet.

Walton and Sammi were up on the stage now, putting on a show with a little bondage, a little whipping. Eh. They didn't have anything on him and Boy Rose.

Two men sat beside him, both quiet, both drinking soda water. Both looking at him -- dark eyes and bright, bright green. He was used to being watched, during the shows and after, but these guys... he couldn't ignore the looks, kept finding himself looking back.

They were a pair, strong and masculine -- one dark, one pale. Dressed simply, similarly, in t-shirts and jeans, they were stunning.

Mike passed him his drink and he raised his glass to them before taking a sip. The vodka burned its way down his throat, just right. He licked his lips, flirting just a little.

The redhead pinked, nodded over, the gold chain around his throat glinting in the light.

Joe smiled and took another sip.

He'd never done a threesome before, but these two were obviously together and obviously scoping him out. He couldn't help preening. He knew he looked good in his leather pants and vest, skin still shining with sweat.

Dark fingers trailed over a braided belt, feeling the leather, tracing it. God, they were so quiet.

He could hear the sound of Walton's whip, the low buzz of conversation, the gasps as the show on stage went on, but it was all kind of muted, far away, as if these two had a bubble of silence around them and had drawn him into it.

He stuck out his hand and gave them his best smile. "Hi." His own voice sounded loud.

A long pale hand slid into his. "Hello."

He kept hold of the warm hand, enjoying the sensation of skin against his, as well as the half-shiver the smooth, low voice sent along his spine.

"Did you catch my show?"

That hand left his, moving in quick signs toward the darker man, who spoke carefully. "We di'. Have you don' it lon'?"

Oh. Deaf. Interesting.