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If Darcy was thinking straight they could probably tell you how they ended up in their current position. Something something… move to a new place, something something… meet some new folks, something something… make some friends, something something… a half-drunk threesome that morphed into something else.
The usual.
But Darcy wasn’t thinking clearly, and the reason they weren’t was because they were currently kneeling blindfolded with someone’s fingers in their mouth.
Okay, not someone’s fingers. It was either Elliott’s or Shane’s. It was a game, and the goal was to guess whose fingers they were.
Easy, right? Their fingers are so different. Elliott’s all long and slender and nimble, Shane’s thick and strong and calloused. No brainer.
Except once Elliott said “be good and suck for us,” and Shane laughed in that low way of his, Darcy’s mind sort of shattered into a million pieces.
Focus, they thought as the fingers began to pulse. Two: a middle and an index. It was harder than you’d think to tell how wide they were, and Darcy’s mind was too focused on the way they moved, in and out, pressing down on their tongue as they pursed their lips, to spare much thought as to whether they were calloused or not.
“Any guesses?” Elliott. Darcy had to resist the urge to swing their head in the direction of his voice. Did he sound close, close enough to get his fingers in their mouth? The blindfold made everything so disorienting, made it harder to trust their ability to correctly discern where sounds were coming from.
Then the fingers pressed in deeper, and Darcy had to focus on not gagging. The move shot a trill of pleasure through their pussy and a rush of victory through their chest.
That was totally a Shane move.
“Shane!” they exclaimed, voice almost unintelligible with the way his fingers filled their mouth.
Elliott made a sound of approval as Shane pulled his fingers out. “Fuckin’ drooling all over me,” he said, but Darcy could hear his smile.
“Maybe don’t shove your fingers so far back next time.” Darcy was smiling too. It was hard not to, when things were like this. There was no way to ignore the bubble of joy in their chest when they were together with Elliott and Shane. It never got old, being the center of their attention.
Though sometimes the squabbling could be a bit much.
“32 seconds,” said Elliott. Darcy turned their head toward his voice. “Is that my time to beat?”
Shane’s outraged sound had Darcy whipping their head back the other way. “You’re fucking timing me?”
“How else will we know who won?” Darcy could imagine the smug smile beneath Elliott’s words.
“I thought the point was for Darcy to guess!” It was like watching a tennis match in the dark.
“The point is to stump our dear friend. You failed to do so.”
Shane groaned and stomped towards the kitchen.
“Are you comfortable, darling?” Elliott’s quiet question came close to Darcy’s ear. They shivered, nodded. “Good. I’ll go converse with my opponent - be a dear and stay here.”
“Sure,” said Darcy, and resettled the cushion under their knees.
Quiet voices in the kitchen. Darcy strained, but they couldn’t make out words or tone. But then a laugh - Shane - and steps returning to where they knelt.
“Ready for round two, baby?” Shane sounded smug.
“Fire away!”
Shane laughed again. “Mouth open, love.” Elliott, sounding close to Shane. Darcy let their mouth fall open, surprised by the sudden wash of vulnerability. In the middle of the room, no way to see, no way to know who was approaching, no way to tell what was coming next… Woooo. Kind of a rush. They flexed their fingers on their knees, relaxed their jaw, and waited.
Something hot and wet brushed against their bottom lip. It traced along their mouth, starting at one corner and dragging along to the other, the taste of salt left in its wake.
“Open wide.” Shane. Above Darcy.
“There you go.” Elliott. Right next to Shane. There was no way to tell whose cock was now pressing against Darcy’s tongue.
It moved slow, filling their mouth by degrees. Again, it should have been easy to tell whose it was. Elliott and Shane had very different cocks. Shouldn’t they feel different? But as Darcy closed their lips around the shaft, moaning a little at how good it felt to have their mouth filled up with slick skin and musk, they had to admit they didn’t have a clue who they were blowing.
The two hands in their hair didn’t exactly help matters.
Shane was definitely on the right, the firm way he pinched Darcy’s hair between his fingers a dead giveaway. Which put Elliott on the left, his grip gentle for now, though Darcy knew that wasn’t necessarily how it would stay.
Then both hands moved in tandem, and Darcy found they didn’t really have much capacity to know anything at all.
They let the two hands guide their mouth forward, did their best to relax as the cock hit the back of their throat. Fucking incredible - the lack of sight made the stretch of their muscles feel so much more intense. A loosening in their neck, a tightening in their stomach, and Darcy shifted on their knees with the tension.
And then Shane or Elliott were pulling themselves out, drawing a string of drool along with them.
“Well?” said Shane. “Any guesses?”
Darcy shook their head. “Not sure.”
“Round two.” Shane again, and that hot pressure was back on Darcy’s tongue.
They tried to concentrate. Tried to gauge the thickness of the shaft, tried to notice how far back it hit in their throat. Shane was shorter but thicker, Elliott was longer and had a more prominent head. Surely Darcy should be able to tell some difference? But no, all they could feel was a smooth slide, a delicious constriction in their throat, and a light tickle of curls against their nose.
Again, a hand on either side of their head, holding them steady, not allowing retreat. They tried to let their shoulders relax, to simply accept, but tears were springing up in their eyes and there was no stopping the ragged sound in their throat. The pressure relieved itself immediately.
“Shit, Darce, you okay?” Shane.
“Alright there, love?” Elliott.
“I’m good, I’m good.” Darcy waved off their concern. “Still not sure though, can I have another go?”
“Of course.” Elliott. Darcy opened their mouth, waited for the hands, but there were none. Instead, just that blunt tip again, holding steady against their lip. Darcy slipped their tongue against it, tracing the soft, damp skin. They considered for a minute, then decided more data was needed. Lips pursed now, circling around the shaft, trying to tell by circumference whether it was Shane’s or Elliott’s.
“So serious,” said Elliott.
“Hurry up,” said Shane.
Darcy would have rolled their eyes if they hadn’t been covered. The cock in their mouth twitched, a fresh taste of salt hit Darcy’s tongue. They sucked, hard, and heard a faint groan above them.
They pulled their head back and grinned. “Elliott,” they said.
Shane laughed and ruffled Darcy’s hair. “There ya go, Darce. Figures he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.”
“Lasted longer than you did, though.” Elliott’s tone was mild, but Darcy could imagine his smug smile. Shane scoffed as Elliott kept talking. “Two for two, dear. Wonderfully done. Why don’t you sit back for a moment while we discuss again?”
Darcy did just that, settling back to sit cross legged while the two fellas made for the kitchen. The second they left the room Darcy hitched up the bottom of the blindfold and watched them. Shane stood with his arms crossed, a shit-eating grin starting to spread across his face. Elliott was talking low, gesturing at great speed.
Those two were up to something.
Darcy resettled the blindfold and leaned back against the couch. Oh well. Whatever they were scheming, chances were good Darcy would be the one getting the best end of the bargain.
Turns out they were exactly right.
At least, that’s what they would have thought five minutes later… if they were capable of thought, that is. Darcy often found it hard to think when they had a couple dicks in them. Just one of those things.
The shift had been quick. Clothes - off. Hands and knees - on the floor. Mouth - open. A pair of hands on their head. A pair of hands on their hips. And then suddenly Darcy was full.
No talking this time. That was fine - Darcy probably couldn’t process the words anyway. How could they, with the way the man behind them was pounding into their pussy? Strong, steady thrusts, hips meeting ass again and again with a rhythmic slap that seemed so much more pronounced than Darcy had ever heard. Their stomach clenched with each movement, tendrils of yes snaking out into their chest and arms.
The cock in their mouth wasn’t helping the general sense of overwhelm. It didn’t push as deep as before (assuming it was the same cock at all), but what it lacked in depth it made up for in force. In and out, pressure and release, saliva running over Darcy’s lip as the hips in front of them found their tempo.
It’s not like this position was new to the three of them, but the mystery made the experience entirely novel. There was no predicting the force with which the cock in the back of Darcy’s mouth would thrust, because there was no knowing who was behind it. And they couldn’t predict how quickly the fingers reaching around to circle at their clit would make them come because they didn’t know who the fingers belonged to. All they could do was feel it - the cock driving into their pussy, stretching them out and lighting them up with each thrust. The cock in their mouth, keeping its own rhythm, filling them deliciously and drawing tiny grunts from their throat. It was so much, such an onslaught to their limited senses, that Darcy could barely tell who they were anymore, much less who was on either side.
Then the fingers on their clit quickened, the hands in their hair tightened, someone said “fuck, Darce, you feel so fucking good,” someone else groaned low and long and filthy, and something in Darcy broke apart. Liquid pleasure from their core to their throat, tension in their elbows, shaking in their thighs, and they clenched around what was inside of them and came with a muffled scream.
A sound of approval from behind them, and a swat to their backside. Shane Darcy thought dimly. Gotta be Shane. Gentle fingers in their hair confirmed that it must be Elliott in their mouth again.
Both men seemed to be losing their rhythm. Darcy’s nose bumped into a soft stomach as the cock in their mouth slid deeper (Shane?). Wide fingers splayed on Darcy’s hips as the cock in their pussy drove in and froze (Elliott?). A feeling of filling, a feeling of full, and Darcy did their best to swallow what was pouring down their throat.
And then an emptiness, and two sets of hands arranging their body. Ass on the floor, back up against a broad, hairy chest. Shane. Gentle hands brushing their hair away from their face, taking off the blindfold. Elliott.
“Hey,” said Darcy.
“Hello,” smiled Elliott.
Shane pressed a kiss to Darcy’s shoulder, let his mouth rest there for a moment. Then: “So who was who?”
Darcy liked to be honest. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“Two and two then.” Elliott settled in in front of Darcy, pulled their feet into his lap, and began to rub their soles. “Seems we’re even.”
“What? That only counts as one!”
Darcy felt a puff of warmth as Shane laughed into their shoulder. “Two dicks, two points. I don’t make the rules.”
“Yes you fucking do!” They swatted at Shane’s head, but he just laughed again and sucked a ticklish kiss at their neck.
It was hard not to relax, then. To fall into Shane’s embrace and succumb to Elliott’s attention. But before they fully gave in, Darcy had to know: “Who was who?”
Elliott smirked, pressed his thumb into the ball of their foot. Shane worked another hickey into their neck. Neither said a word.
Darcy found that they were quite alright with that.