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“Fucking hell.” I stand and stretch my long legs with a groan. The flight to Montreal is five hours, and I hate being cooped up. One of the best things about all this money has got to be not having to deal with commercial airlines anymore. Thank fuck.
“Hey Dean, do you have any more of that gum?” Dean gives me a confused look and fiddles in the pockets of his fleece vest. “The minty one, not the one that tastes like fruit.”
He hands me a pack of gum, from which I remove three pieces and hand it back to him. I’m pretty sure I forgot to brush my teeth this morning after rushing around the house to get to the airport at five a.m., God damned Dean pounding on my door to hurry up because the car was waiting.
When the jet finally comes to a stop, we make our way quickly across the tarmac and through a private door. A long silent hallway lies before us, but Dean still insists on walking slightly in front of me and carrying one of my bags. The second we turn out the door at the opposite end of the hall though, we’re bombarded.
Flash flash flash. Click click click. “Rob!” “Rob, over here!” “Rob, are you here to see Kristen?!”
I grab my Ray Bans from the front of my black v-neck tee shirt and slide them onto my face, casually pulling the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as well. I used to mind the paparazzi - hated them in fact. I’m pretty sure in a lot of pap pictures of me over the past three years, you can see the white of my knuckles, the tension of my jaw, but not anymore. Not really. I’ve finally reached an indifference, gliding through press events and public ‘sightings’ of myself almost as if I float above my own body, a silent observer to the chaos.
We get outside quickly, and Dean pushes one photographer back to make a path for me to get to the car door. I hike up my jeans, climb in the back of the SUV and throw my backpack on the seat next to me. Another airport unscathed, I suppose. Wonder what the headlines will read this time.
I am here to see Kristen. Surely, everyone in the world knows that by now. I love her - she’s an amazing girl - but she’s not the sole reason I’m visiting Montreal. Waiting for our car to merge into traffic and some semblance of privacy, I pull out my phone and dial.
“Tom? Hey man, I’ve landed.”
ooOOoo
I arrive on the set of On the Road right around noon, and the cast is taking a quick lunch. Immediately, I search around for Kristen or Tom and find them sitting in the shade, backs against a large tree, with sandwiches and scripts in their laps.
“Hey, am I interrupting?” I stop cautiously a few feet away, hesitant to break their cadence.
“Babe!” Kris jumps from the ground and launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me hard. “I thought you weren’t in until tonight?”
“You know Dean, early riser and all that shit. I’ll let you go back to work if you just give me a hug. God, I missed you.” I squeeze her around the waist and take a deep inhale of her scent.
“It’s fine. Really. We’re working on totally different scenes right now. I go back to set in a few minutes, but Tom is done for the day. You guys should go hang in my trailer. Love you.” She kisses me again before pulling away and grabbing her things from the ground. “I’ll text you later.” And with that, she’s off and running. That’s my girl, a bundle of awkward energy at all times.
Tom eats the last bite of his sandwich and stands, walks to a trash can to dump his plate, and then looks at me over his shoulder. “You coming or what?”
I grin, then rush to catch up to him. “How’s it going, man? Cast looks good ... anything exciting been happening?”
“Dude, you know how it is. After a fifteen hour day of shooting, all you want is a beer and a bed, know what I mean?”
“I definitely know what you mean. That’s why I’m asking.” He doesn’t look at me so I nudge his arm with my elbow. “Hey, you can tell me if you guys have been ... you know. It’s okay.”
Tom tosses a smirk over his shoulder at me as he turns to the left and walks up to the door of a trailer, throwing it open against the breeze. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he calls as he disappears through the doorway.
“That little shit,” I mutter under my breath before scrambling up the stairs after him and slamming the door closed behind me. “So you have been fucking around. I knew you would. I even told Kristen you had my blessing. Being apart for three months isn’t exactly simple, you know.” I glare at him, surprised at the possessiveness bubbling up inside me.
“Believe me ... I know.” Tom looks me in the eye meaningfully, then lets his gaze drop lower and lower still, before he finally reaches to deliberately adjust his crotch. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers.
With a snarl, I close the distance between us and grab him by the back of the neck, bringing the length of our bodies together as I possess his mouth with my own. He kisses back forcefully, wedging his tongue between my lips and teeth and moaning. I let my hands slide from his neck down his back to the hem of his shirt, clawing at it mercilessly.
“Off,” I demand against his lips. “Now.”
We pry our bodies away from each other for the mere seconds it takes to pull our shirts off and kick our shoes away to a corner, but even that feels too long. Seizing him by the shoulders, I back Tom against a wall, licking and kissing my way down his neck and shoulder before pausing for several seconds to suck at his left nipple.
“Fuck,” he whispers and grunts softly when I use my teeth. “Don’t stop. Shit.”
My hands work of their own volition, rubbing a gentle path across his stomach to his hips, then reaching for the fly of his jeans. As my mouth makes it’s way back to his lips, I unzip him and shove the jeans down to the floor.
“I swear, I leave you two alone for a bit, and you’re both emaciated. Are you eating?” I glare at him, one hand moving back to his stomach but the other making it’s way to the band of his briefs.
“Of course I’m eating. Now shut up.” His lips are covering my own in a heartbeat, and his fingers grab my wrist, forcing my hand to make contact with the bulge in his underwear, and I gasp. Usually, Tom is a very ... passive lover. He must have missed this as much as I have.
With a few grunts and groans, I grind against him, feeling his cock dig at my jean-clad thigh. “What do you want, Tom? Say it.” I whisper in his ear, teasing a response out of my shy boy.
“Fuck, want you. I want you to fuck me. Jesus.” He’s panting now and has pulled my hips even closer to his own, grinding against my leg with abandon. “Please, Rob.”
I chuckle softly and look around the room. Where to take him ... there’s a breakfast bench of sorts, a small table covered in Kristen’s books and various papers, and there’s a large couch that she undoubtedly naps on between takes. Grabbing his hand, I pull him toward the bench and sit, pulling him to stand astride my legs.
“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” I say, slowly pull the briefs down his thighs, watching his cock bob as it’s freed. I throw the underwear into a growing pile of clothing on the floor and then lie back, propped against the bench with my arms. “Go on then. What are you just standing there for?” I smirk at him as he realizes what I need, what I want.
He quickly lowers himself to his knees and reaches for my jeans, ripping the buttons free and pulling them off my legs along with the boxer briefs I wear.
He takes his time but eventually the head of my cock is in his mouth, and he’s stroking me gently, my foreskin stretching up and back with each motion. As I watch him move his hand and take me further into his mouth, I moan with pleasure. Fuck, he’s so sexy on his knees.
Tom licks and sucks for what could be hours, but is likely only seconds, before I put a hand to the back of his head and tell him I need more. Greedily, he quickens his pace, hollowing his cheeks each time he pulls back and making dirty sucking noises as he takes me into his throat. For a few seconds, I control his motion with my grip on the back of his hair, forcing him to take me deeper than normal and reveling in the feel. He loves it when I do this shit, make him pleasure me. But I’d rather fuck.
He pulls off my dick quickly and stands, eyes darting around the room as if he’s contemplating what’s going to happen next.
“Get the lube,” I tell him but remain seated on the bench, watching as he walks to a drawer and bends to open it. He returns and sits the bottle and a condom on the table next to my arm.
“Turn ‘round,” I say, trying to act nonchalant when really I’m giddy to get inside him again. He turns, and I sit forward, reach to his hips and pull his ass close to my face. I knead the cheeks a few times before pulling them wide and spitting directly above his hole. I close my eyes and lick. It’s not one of my preferred things to do, but I know Tom loves it and I want him to feel as good as I do. Give and take.
After several minutes of licking and stretching him with both my tongue and fingers, he’s finally moaning and panting, begging me to ‘please just fuck’ him. Quickly, I slide the condom on and pull him down onto my lap, still facing away from me, guiding my cock into him in one long motion.
“Fuck,” we both groan in unison.
“Jesus. I forgot. It’s so fucking tight. Shit.” With all the willpower I possess, I stop myself from pounding into him and instead give him time to adjust to my size, gently rocking and letting him control the up and down motions for the first few minutes. Eventually, I can’t help myself and start lifting my hips off the bench, pushing into him in short jerky thrusts. “Does that feel good, babe? You like that?” I reach around and grab his hard cock in my palm, squeezing and tugging it in time with my thrusts.
“Fuck, yes. Keep doing that,” he whines, breathless and grabbing at both the table and the back of the hard bench for leverage. “Fuck me.”
I lift him and stand all in one motion, before turning around and nearly dropping him on the bench on all fours. “Don’t move,” I growl and pound into him, hard and fast, my hips slapping against his ass rhythmically. It only takes seconds before we’re both nearing our release.
“Fuck,” I shout. “Do you need more time?” I can see him jerking himself off underneath me, and I know I can’t last much longer.
“No. So good. Gonna come.” As soon as he says it, I still inside him, spurting into the condom and cursing. It’s not a moment too soon though. Tom follows me over the edge, coming all over the bench and moaning.
“Rob. Shit, feels so good.”
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and pull out of him, looking around for something to clean up with. When all I find is some tissues, I run my shirt over my back and chest before handing it to him, then use the tissues to dispose of the condom.
Tom always wants to be alone for a few minutes after he fucks. That’s fine, because I really want to go watch my girl for a few takes. I grab a new shirt from my backpack, then throw it and my jeans on quickly and run a hand through my hair.
“I’m out for a smoke. You good?”
“Fuck. Of course, I’m good. I’ll be out in awhile. Nice shirt, asshole.” He rolls his eyes at me, and I look down.
Get Off My Dick. I shrug. Seems appropriate to me.
ooOOoo
After Kristen realized I was watching her on set, she called for a smoke break. I got to meet several people she’s been talking about for weeks and tried to be on my best behavior. For her sake. If they’re important to her, they’re important to me. End of story.
I tell a few witty stories that make the guys laugh and kiss Kristen on the forehead to make the ladies swoon before they all go back to work, and I take a seat against the tree trunk.
A lighter flicks beside me, and I don’t have to turn my head to know it’s Tom. “So, how are things other than ... that?” I ask, truly interested.
“Pretty good. People are good, script is amazing. It’s good to be working, ya know? I miss home, but if I was home, I’d miss acting.” He gives me a lopsided grin and takes a drag from his cigarette.
“I know exactly what you mean.”
“In my position, it’s easy to choose acting. How do you choose it every day? Knowing what that spotlight feels like? Knowing you can’t walk round the corner and grab a beer at the pub? I don’t know how you do it, man.”
I sit, thinking about how to respond and make him understand. After a few long seconds, I sigh. Best just give him the truth, I guess. “Well, it’s like this. For Kristen, acting is her life, right? It’s always been her thing, the thing she wanted over every other thing in the world. And when I met her, she became that thing for me. It sounds weird, I know. But it’s like, I don’t know ... if acting was the way I found her, then why would I turn my back on it after giving me that gift? Does that make sense at all?”
He nods his head but I know no one will ever truly understand. I love to act, but not as much as I love that girl.
Several hours pass, and we talk bullshit to pass some of the time. I pull out a battered paperback and read for awhile, until dusk settles in. Finally, Kris comes over to tell us she’s done for the day and starving.
“Want to get takeaway from that one place by the hotel?” Tom asks.
“Yes, that diner? Yes! But we have to get some Heineken first. I’m dying for a drink.” She runs into her trailer to grab some things and change clothes while I call Dean, handing the phone to Tom to tell him where to go.
We all pile in Kristen’s car and order our food on the way. It’s ready when we get to the hotel, so her bodyguard runs to get the food and beer and bring it back up to us. I hate that I can’t do this myself, shoving my credit card to him at the last minute in an attempt to pay for dinner. I sigh when he rolls his eyes and pushes the card back toward my wallet. Pompous prick.
The food is actually really good, and we relax in Kristen’s suite. Tom’s room is two floors down but it looks like he’s been spending quite a bit of time up here from the looks of the clothing, music and books strewn about the room.
Just as we’re finishing our food, my agent calls, so I excuse myself to the bathroom to discuss my coming week’s schedule with her. Everything goes smoothly, and I’m only gone for a few seconds, but when I come back, Tom and Kris have moved to the bed and flipped on the TV to the Food Network. Tom is packing a bowl and Kristen is watching Paula Deen make something with butter as the main ingredient. I feel a slight pang of jealousy - they look so content - but I know it’s more about me being away than about him being here.
Grabbing the last of the beers, I join them on the bed, sliding Kristen over toward the center. They each take a few hits while I drink instead. Weed makes me paranoid. I hate it. After a few minutes, I lean closer to Kristen and kiss her neck, anxious for some time together. The problem is, I can’t decide if I want that time with her alone or not. Tom gets up and runs a hand through his hair.
“Well, I’m out of smokes and have an early call in the morning. So ... I guess I’ll be going downstairs ...” he trails off, obviously waiting for one of us to tell him to stay. Fuck it.
“Stick around, man. I mean, unless you don’t want to.” I look from him to Kristen, making sure they’re both okay with this. “I want you to.”
“Yeah, you should stay,” Kristen tells him, but she doesn’t look away from me. Leaning in for a kiss, she whispers, “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. Of course,” I whisper back and kiss her gently but thoroughly. She knows that Tom and I have always had a casual thing. She also knows that I insisted that if she need anything while I’m not around, she shouldn’t feel bad about going to Tom. I trust them both implicitly. What she’s likely never considered before now, though, is the possibility of the three of us together.
I’ve considered it. Often. And I definitely want it to happen now. I reach behind me and pull Tom back down to the bed on Kristen’s other side. “Kiss him,” I whisper in her ear, nudging her with my forehead. “I want to see.”
I lean back against the headboard and watch lazily as she turns to Tom and takes off his hat, throwing it to the end table. Their lips meet hesitantly at first, then harder, exploring each other’s mouth. Tom’s eyes open, and he looks over my direction, probably still not certain that I won’t hit him. I’m fine though. More than fine actually, and I have to adjust myself to change the painful position my hard cock is in.
As Tom and Kris make out, her hand trails down the front of his shirt and rests just above the waistband of his pants. I encourage her, lightly pushing her arm lower, and she unbuttons them, reaches in and pulls his dick free. After a few dry strokes, she breaks away from his kisses and lowers her head, placing a few gentle kisses to his head and finally licking along the shaft.
Tom and I both groan at the sight, and he shifts positions on the bed, allowing her full access to his cock. Finally, she takes him in her mouth and begins to suck. Her cheeks are hollowed, and her lips have become red and swollen. She’s going so slowly, pulling all the way off his cock each time, then licking the head before taking him in again. It looks amazing, but I know how he likes it. And he likes it harder, faster than this.
I reach over and place a hand on the back of her head, pushing forward and pulling back with her hair several times. “He likes it faster. Like this.”
She easily keeps my pace so I let my hand fall to her neck and encourage her. “Good girl. Yes, rough. Like that. Fuck.” I stand and move from the bed to a chair in the corner, sitting my beer on the table next to me and lighting a cigarette.
Kristen lifts her head from him, and they both look at me, confused. “Take her shirt off,” I say, my voice low and gritty.
Tom does as he’s told, but doesn’t stop there, continuing to undress her while placing kisses along her upper torso. I feel a thrill of power, as if I could direct the entire scene of events as they unfold before my eyes. Smoke wafts around my face, causing my eyes to water, and I realize I’ve been holding the cigarette just at my lips, ready to puff, but have been too mesmerized to take a drag. I take it between my lips. Inhale. Tom has removed Kristen’s jeans after a bit of work (fuck, they’re tight) and his hands trail up her thighs. Exhale. She gasps and writhes underneath him as he touches her over the damp crotch of her thong.
“I want you to fuck her. I want to watch.” My voice is so low and strained with need, I think maybe they don’t hear me, but they did. Kristen reaches to the end table for a condom and looks over to the shadows where I sit.
“Are you positive, babe?” she asks, worry lacing the corners of her eyes.
“Yes,” I respond and lean forward so they can see my face, my certainty. “Please.”
Tom rises up on his knees on the bed, pulling his shirt off before reaching for his belt. I watch, smoking the remainder of my cigarette and lighting a new one, as he removes his shoes, socks and pants. He hesitates, looking over his shoulder at me, before slowly sliding his briefs down to his ankles and off to the floor. Kris has alternated between watching Tom disrobe, looking at me as I smoke in the corner, and removing her underwear discreetly. She opens the condom and hands it to Tom.
I drink the last swig of my beer, not letting my eyes stray from the bed. He’s hovering over her, positioned at her entrance, and kissing her neck fiercely. I watch as her hands rub slow long strokes up and down his sides and he pushes into her. He drops his head to her shoulder, and they both moan softly as he begins to move. In. Out. In. Out. From my chair near the corner of the bed, I have the perfect view of both Tom’s ass, clenching and relaxing each time he moves, and Kristen’s face and breasts. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as her breathing increases. I can see just how turned on she’s getting, and it’s so fucking hot, I want to bust in on them right this second. But I don’t.
Instead, I reach down to undo my fly and pull out my cock, hard and throbbing with a dot of pre-cum on the tip. I stroke lazily at first, then more firmly, lying back in the chair some. I must make a noise - a grunt of some sort - because Tom looks over his shoulder and watches me, licking his lips and whispering something like ‘fucking hell’ before looking back to Kristen and continuing his thrusts. She watches me from underneath him, reaching up to tease and pinch her own nipples while moaning.
“Feels so good. Don’t stop. Either of you,” she says breathlessly.
“Fuck. I’m not gonna last.” Tom drops his head to her shoulder again, focusing on the task at hand.
Now.
I rise from the chair, and my pants fall to a heap on the floor. As I cross the three steps to the bed, I pull my shirt up and over my head, letting it fall, and shove my boxer briefs down and off urgently, eager to join them. I sit on the edge of the bed and roll a condom on myself, then turn to the side and place small kisses along Tom’s shoulder and back.
“Let go. Come for us, Tom. Come,” I say firmly. Kristen moans at the sound of my voice but it’s Tom who lets go. With a groan, he stills and shudders inside her, coming hard and long. As he slips out of her and rolls to the side, I lean down and kiss her, then him, murmuring about what a good job they both did.
As Tom throws an arm over his face, panting heavily, Kristen sits up and pushes me onto my back next to him.
“Be still,” she whispers as she straddles my legs and lowers herself onto my cock.
“Fuck, babe. You feel amazing.” After the show they put on and touching myself pretty firmly, it takes all my willpower not to raise my hips off the bed and plow into her. Somehow I keep control and let her set the pace. She tortures me with her slow motions and soft caresses across both of our chests. “Jesus, you’re killing me,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says and grins, biting her lip.
I reach a hand up to her face and cup her cheek, whispering about how beautiful she is and that I love her. Kristen turns her head to the side and kisses my hand, playfully at first, but then biting and sucking my thumb roughly. With a grunt, I realize I can take it no longer and quickly spin her down to the bed underneath me, reversing our positions before she can figure out what I’ve done.
“Robert! Jesus!” She glares at me disapprovingly, but I just smirk at her smugly.
“You should probably hold on to something,” I say and slam into her. “This could get rough.”
I pump in and out of her, frantically groping her breasts and shoulders for leverage at first. Once we settle into a rhythm, she starts talking.
“Fucking shit, Rob. Yeah, fuck me. Just like that. Don’t stop. Fuck my pussy. Shit. Fuck me hard. Harder.”
I’m getting a cramp in my leg but I know if I let up now she’ll be furious, so I don’t stop. Instead, I reach over to Tom’s shoulder and grip it hard, shifting part of my weight onto him and off the pained leg. As soon as he feels my touch, he lifts the arm from his eyes and focuses on us.
“Watch us, Tom. Watch him fuck me with his big hard cock. You like that, don’t you Tom, you dirty boy. Watching us fuck. I bet you wish Rob was fucking you, don’t you?” The most filthy things fly out of her mouth when she’s about to come, I swear to God.
Tom doesn’t skip a beat, though. He just smiles at her and says, “Oh, yeah I would. But you see, he already did fuck me. Earlier today in your trailer.”
Her eyes widen and she looks from me to him and back to me again. “Oh my God. Why wasn’t I fucking there? That’s so fucking hot. Shit.” She cries out and I feel her tighten around me, throbbing and spasming as the orgasm rocks her entire body.
It only takes a few more thrusts, and I’m gone as well, spilling into the condom as I strain and groan and make a face I don’t think anyone will ever want to see in person. My cumface is ugly. Oh well. I don’t think these two mind.