Abby found out about the party from Evelyn, the drag queen she met during a bowling tournament.
(It was kind of a crazy situation; Abby had spotted Evelyn's Adam's apple right away, but the sisters were pretty clueless. So when Evelyn started flirting with her after they'd scored a strike each, she couldn't help giggling at the way the sisters were taken aback. She's not certain if the truth would have appalled them more than the lie.)
Anyway, Evelyn told her about the party, even though Abby probably would have found out about it on her own if she hadn't been working the Olsen case non-stop for a week and a half. (And seriously, did they have to be twins? Tony and Tim just could. not. stop. with the jokes.) As soon as she heard about it, she knew they had to go. The only question was how to convince the guys.
The problem isn't the costumes. She's not sure which one will be the stick-in-the-mud and which will be enthused about dressing up, but in the end it won't matter. One way or the other, they'll goad each other into it, and all she'll have to do is sit back and watch. Maybe throw a little innuendo in if things get out of hand or take a turn in the wrong direction.
The problem isn't the party, either; it's what the party represents. It means being who they are in front of other people, and even though Abby knows it will be a safe space, the boys aren't going to believe that. They have too much at risk. All of them do, but Abby can get away with a lot more. She's the girl. The weird one. The lab tech. The one who sneaks under the radar because she's so open about who she is.
She's a part of the team, but she's not a field agent. She's not partners. She's not putting her life on the line with them every day.
So yeah, she thinks they probably won't go for it.
Sometimes, she forgets how brave the guys really are.
Tony's the one who comes up with the costumes, of course. He stares at her for a long minute with one eyelid screwed tight and his lips pursed to the side. And then his eyes go wide and he makes his huge O with his mouth, and just like that she's Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch. She tries to convince them to go all out and do drag like in Some Like It Hot, but she used up all her pull talking them into the party. They settle on period suits--a pair of DiMaggios on her arms is just fine with her.
Slipping into the dress is amazing. Abby's always liked dressing up--there's more than one reason she's a Goth, after all--but she doesn't usually feel this glamorous when she puts on clothes. She does her makeup--not much different than what she usually does, just more vibrant--settles the wig in place, and clips on the earrings.
And grins unrepentantly at herself in the mirror. The boys are so going to be eating out of her hand tonight.
Her doorbell rings about two minutes later. Excitement skips through her stomach; she can't wait to see them in their outfits. She grabs the doorknob--the other hand on her skirt, ready to fling it out in a twirl--and throws open the door.
The boys are in matching suits all right, but they're not at all what she expected. Instead of the brown suits and fedoras they'd ordered, Tim and Tony are wearing modern black jackets over their striped blue shirts. They don't even have ties.
"There was a mix-up at the place," Tim says, his face screwed up in a wince. "Abby, I'm sorry..."
She sighs and glances over at Tony, who's still staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She's surprised there's not drool dripping down his chin.
"Fine," she pouts, stepping back to let them in. "But you owe me now."
They really do look good, even if she's disappointed that they're not dressed up, too. She can tell they made the effort to match, which is impressive in itself.
"You look amazing," Tony finally says, like he's coming out of a fugue.
"Thank you." She give them a twirl. McGee whistles. "Let me grab my jacket and purse, and we can go."
She darts into her bedroom and scoops up the tiny white handbag, and then heads back out to the living room.
A big white rectangular box sits on her dining table. Abby's not quite sure how she missed them bringing it in; she must have been too caught up in her internal grumbling to notice.
"Open it," Tony says, bouncing like a little boy.
She glances at Tim, who's smiling just as smugly. So she goes for it. There's a layer of white tissue on top. She lifts it off, and--
"Tell me this isn't what it looks like," she orders.
"It's fake," Tim jumps in. "Completely cruelty-free."
Abby spares him a smile, and then brushes a hand across the brown fur in the box before she lifts it out. It's a stole. Exactly what she needs for the crisp evening air.
"The lining is silk," Tony adds. "It shouldn't chafe at all."
"Excellent." She lets the material slither through her fingers, preparing to wrap it around her shoulders. But Tony takes it from her.
"Let me," he says. He settles it across her shoulders, fingers brushing her skin in ways that make her shiver. He lifts the bottom hairs of the wig gently, making sure none of it is caught under the weight of the fake fur. "I can't wait to unwrap you later," he murmurs into her ear, and then steps back before she can decide that going to the party isn't what she really wants to do right now.
The drive is quiet. She can tell that they're nervous by the little tics that give them away. Tony tap-tap-taps at the steering wheel with his fingers. Tim, stuck in the tiny back seat of the Mustang, keeps shifting and fidgeting. They make her nervous. But she pushes the feeling down, telling herself that they're going to have a great time tonight.
And there should be a bunch of Halloween candy on the buffet, just in case things don't go well.
The party's in an unobtrusive Salvation Army building in the suburbs. There's nothing on the outside to make anyone suspicious about the nature of the festivities. Inside is a different story–a festive banner hangs over the doorway to the inner room, sparkling letters proclaiming "5th Annual Tricks And Treats Ball," with "Sponsored by the Greater DC Metro Poly Community" splashed underneath it.
Evelyn's working the door, and they squeal in unison when they spot each other. Abby stilt-walks over to him. They greet each other with air kisses worthy of the best Hollywood celebs. Evelyn is stunning: totally Grace Jones with bleached white hair.
"So. Cool." Abby squeezes his hand and preens a little as he gives her an appreciative once over.
"Likewise, hon. You here alone tonight?"
Abby turns around. Sure enough, it appears the guys' courage has fled. They're both glued to the wall beside the doors, whispering to each other while they exchange finger-pokes and elbow-shoves. She rolls her eyes and marches over to them.
Tony has to open his mouth. "We were just saying how excited we are--"
"Yeah, yeah," she says, and grabs them both by the wrist. She tugs them over to Evelyn. "Evelyn, I'd like you to meet Tony and Tim. Say hello, guys."
They manage to get themselves together enough to exchange polite hellos, complete with handshakes. She's almost impressed. Then Evelyn raises an eyebrow so pointed it almost climbs to the back of her head.
"Now I know why you never gave into my charms," he teases. "Honey, you are one lucky woman."
Abby grins. "Don't I know it." She thumbs open the tiny clasp of her purse, pulls out the tickets and plunks them down on the table. "You'll be in later, right?"
"Sure thing," Evelyn says. "Oh, by the way--who are they supposed to be?"
"There was a mixup at the costume place," Tim immediately volunteers. He's definitely pink in the cheeks. Abby wonders how he ever manages to pull off anything undercover.
"They're my bodyguards," Abby corrects, staring Tim straight in the eye. He gives her a sweet smile. "Think more Madonna, less Marilyn."
"Gotcha." Evelyn waves them forward. "Have fun."
Abby checks her stole and bag, then grabs their wrists again and tows them through the foil-string curtain guarding the main room. They stop just inside, taking everything in. There's a stage at one end, and tables and chairs filling the near half of the room. Everything in the middle is a dance floor. One that's already full of boogeying people.
Tony gently pries her fingers from around his wrist and guides them to the crook of his elbow. Somehow he must have signaled Tim, because Tim repeats the motion a few seconds later.
"Well, shall we?" Tony asks.
Abby leads the way, her gorgeous guys right beside her. Heads turn as they walk forward, checking them out. They're a long way from the most extravagant group in the room, but Abby knows they're an attractive bunch. The admiration directed their way is nice. The extra kick in pants is that she knows that everyone in the room knows that they're all three together.
So. Very. Cool.
They get stopped a couple times, people oohing and ahhing over her costume and saying hello. Abby returns the compliments--there's some real creativity in the room tonight--and starts as many conversations as she can. She loves parties. Meeting new, fascinating people, admiring how luscious people can make themselves, getting a chance to let down her hair (though, tonight, that part's metaphorical).
Tony and Tim are quiet at first, but soon they're talking as much as she is. They're all careful. They give their first names, but not their last, and the letters N C I S never leave their lips. Abby doesn't say the words forensic scientist, even though she talks freely about her interests. The guys are similarly cautious. She wonders what impression they leave behind. People probably assume she's a chemist with a necro fetish, that Tim's a struggling writer who makes his living off computers, and that Tony sits around watching movies all day.
She thinks they've worked half the room when the familiar opening phrase of "Dragula" pipes through the speakers. Abby's moving before the bass kicks in, trusting Tony and Tim to follow if they want to. She works her way into the center of the floor, dancing the whole way (as much as she can in the shoes, anyway). When she spins around, sure enough, Tony and Tim are with her.
Tim's not any better at dancing than he was the few other times she's seen him. He tries, though, and that's more than good enough out here. What surprises her is that Tony is flailing around just as badly as Tim is. Abby laughs. Not at them, of course. Just from the sheer giddiness of being with them here.
They dance through several more songs, getting handsy, bumping and grinding and being silly together. Then a slow song comes on. Tony pulls her to him immediately and sweeps her into a smooth box step. Over his shoulder, she can see Tim trying to fade into the crowd.
"Not so fast, mister!" She shoves against Tony's shoulder, and he turns. Abby spins away from him and snags Tim by the coattails. "Where do you think you're going?"
"There's not really a way to slow dance with three," Tim says, wagging his fingers between Tony and her.
Abby pulls out the pout. "We'll figure it out." She lets go of Tony and slides into Tim's arms. Well, forcibly wraps his arms around herself, but he figures it soon enough that she doesn't have to pinch him. They sway together for a few beats, and then Abby lets go and turns back to Tony.
"The probie's right, you know," Tony whispers into her ear. "There's really no good way to do this."
She pulls back, narrowing her eyes. "Your turn now," she says, stepping away. Tim steps forward, but she points at Tony until they both get the picture.
"Um, Abby." Tim stops when she pouts again.
"I don't think this is a good idea, Abs," Tony says, but she shakes her finger at him.
"Just try it, okay? It's not going to kill you."
They step together awkwardly, and Abby almost feels bad. She knows they have pretty strong feelings for each other, but it rarely comes out as more than teasing when they're not in bed.
"Ow," Tony yells when they take their first step. "I'm leading, okay?"
"Why do you get to lead?" Tim shoots back.
"Because I'm taller."
"You are not!"
Tony grabs Tim's hand and settles it back on his waist. "Then stop slouching all the time. Until then, I lead."
They manage a few steps, and Abby almost has hopes that they'll relax and enjoy it. But then the song ends and the beat picks up again. She starts fast-dancing, trying to hide her disappointment. She'd wanted the night to be so perfect for all of them, but now she's worried that they're not having a good time.
Then a girl in a clear vinyl dress dances into their midst. Tony grins like a cat spotting cream.
"Well, hello," she hears him shout over the music. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Invisible Blonde," the little tramp says, tossing her dyed hair over her shoulder. Abby gets the joke, all right. Everything's invisible except for the chick's tiny thong and two sparkling pasties over her nipples.
"Is that so?" Tony's eyes are glued to her crotch, obviously looking for evidence to the truth of her blondeness. Abby rolls her eyes; everything about the chick is fake.
"Wanna find out?" the tramp laughs out, and Abby's had enough.
"He has more blonde tonight than he can handle, honey," she says, grabbing Tony's arm and tugging him off the dance floor. She doesn't look back to see if Tim follows; she doesn't think she can take it if he's ogling Breast-zilla, too.
They reach the edge of the tables, and Abby lets go. She's not sure what she's doing. She doesn't get jealous. Okay, no, that's not exactly true. She gets jealous all the time, but it's stupid, she knows it's stupid. Especially when there's no reason Tony shouldn't flirt with a hot chick in a see-through dress.
"Abby," Tim shouts, grabbing her shoulder.
"What!" She spins around, and he's right there, looking worried like only Tim can.
"Are you okay?"
Abby shrugs. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"We've been calling your name and you just kept walking away."
"Oh." Abby looks down, embarrassed. Way to act like a grown-up there, Abs. "Sorry. I didn't hear you."
Tim slides his hand down her arm, cupping her wrist. He leads her to the back section of the tables. He sits down at an empty table, draws her into his lap. "Are you mad at us? At Tony?"
"No," she says quickly. Then she looks around, frantic, because Tony's nowhere in sight. "Where'd he go? Did I piss him off? I didn't mean to be bitchy, I swear."
Tim wraps his arm around her waist, preventing her from jumping up and running off to search. "Relax, okay? He just went to get some drinks. He'll be back in a couple minutes."
"Oh," she says again. She slumps against Tim's shoulder, trying to work out where things went wrong. "I'm sorry I lost it back there."
"Abby," Tim prods. "What's going on? What happened?"
"Did you see the blonde? The naked one?"
A grin steals over Tim's face. She hits him in the shoulder. Hard.
"Ow! What was that for?" Tim snags both of her wrists in one hand. She tries to ignore the arousal that shoots through her. "I'm not going to sleep with her, Abby. I don't want to sleep with her."
Abby sighs and turns her face into his hair.
"Did Tony try to sleep with her? Is that it?" Tim lets go of her wrists. She can tell he's about to stand, to go yell at Tony for something he doesn't deserve.
"No," she tells him, wiggling so that her weight is more firmly in Tim's lap. "Well, not really. He was just being Tony, you know?"
Tim's quiet. His arm snugs around her waist, holding her close. "I know," he finally says. "But I don't think--"
"Don't think what, McGee?"
They both look up at the same time. Tony sets a trio of glasses down on the white-clothed table, then pulls a chair close to Tim. Sits down so that his knee is snugged between her right leg and Tim's left.
"I don't think I know what's going on," Tim says. "With any of this."
"Well, that makes two of us." Tony's voice is serious-quiet, like when he's interviewing a victim who might bolt at any second. That quiet intensity warms her insides, but she also feels a little ashamed. She's never been one to need the kid-glove treatment. "Want to let us in on what's going on, Abs?"
Abby bites her lip. "I'm sorry, Tony. I totally should have let you flirt. But I bet you can still find her if you want. I think you've got her in the bag, easy."
Tony's face goes cold. Like she shot him with Freon. "Right." He sets his drink back down without having taken a sip. "I'd best get on that then. That is, if I want to be done in time to drive you guys back home."
In the instant that Tony starts to stand, Abby's so scared she can't say a word. She fucked up, she knows it, but she doesn't have any idea how to fix it.
Then Tim's hand shoots out and snags Tony's forearm. "Stop it, Tony. You know she didn't mean it that way."
Tony stares down at Tim's hand on his arm. Abby's heart is beating wildly in her throat; she's sure he's going to fling Tim aside and march out the door. Instead, he turns his arm over and grips Tim's arm back. Then he sits back down.
"I'm sorry, Tony," she says for what feels like the thousandth time that night. This is so not like her. "I didn't mean that you're loose. Or inconsiderate. Whatever. It's just that sometimes--" She stops, trying to figure out how to say this without feeding every stereotype out there about women. "Sometimes I get a little bit jealous. Sometimes."
Tim snorts. "For values of sometimes equaling always, you mean."
She turns back to him, eyes narrowed. "Hey! Like you never get jealous, Mr. Terrorizes-Jimmy-For-Fun."
"Well, at least I'm logical about it." Tim's head is tipped back so he can see her, which makes him look even more snooty. "I was the one who wanted a real relationship, remember?"
Abby pulls back. Tim looks immediately sorry, and a little bit scared. They slowly turn to look at Tony.
"Okay, wait," Tony says, index finger waving in the air like he's trying to connect the dots. "So now I'm the third wheel?"
"No!" Abby yelps at the same time Tim pleads, "Tony--"
"No, no, I get it." Tony picks his glass up and takes a big swig. "You kids were having a tough time getting back together, needed me to grease the wheels. Needed a little DiNozzo magic in there to spice things up. And hey, why not. That's Tony spelled backwards, you know. Y-N--"
"I want to go steady!"
Tony shuts his mouth while still forming the O, giving him huge pouty-lips. Tim's hands clench on her hips.
"What?" Tony asks.
"I know, I know," she answers. "I don't do commitment, you don't do commitment. McGee here is so in love with commitment they should be the ones going steady. But I love you guys," she wails pathetically. "It's stupid! Commitment commitment commitment commitment. Say it enough and it doesn't even mean anything."
"It means something," Tony says slowly, staring down into his glass. "The question is, what do you want it to mean?"
Abby's out of words. Tony looks up at her from under his eyelashes. He's not running, so that's something.
Tim clears his throat. "Well, I don't see why it has to change anything. I mean–" He pauses, reaching around Abby to take Tony's glass out of his hand, to raise it to his own lips for a healthy swallow. "Have you been seeing anybody else since this started, Tony?"
"You know I haven't, McGee," Tony says with a touch of annoyance. Like he's being accused.
"Well, I haven't seen anybody, either," Tim says quickly. "Abby?"
She shakes her head. She hasn't had the time, let alone the desire, to see anybody but her two favorite guys.
"And you're not bored yet, are you?" Tim speaks the question into her ear, but she knows he's looking at Tony.
Tony shakes his head, a small smile creeping up. "No, definitely not bored."
"So it shouldn't be any problem to say we're not going to see anybody else in the future, right? Because that's worked okay up till now." Tim sounds confident, but the ice rattles in the glass he's holding. "Until we decide otherwise, anyway."
"Right," Abby agrees immediately. "That's all I was saying. I wasn't talking the M-word or anything."
"That's good," Tony says, still with that little smile. "Because it's kind of illegal."
Abby snorts. Tim sets the empty glass down on the table. He leans forward, one arm still wrapped around her waist so that she doesn't go tumbling onto the floor. Her skirt rustles with their every move.
Tim snags the cuff of Tony's suit with his index finger. "So, Tony. Is that a yes or a no?"
"I think," Tony says, sliding his other hand under her skirt, hot hand palming her thigh, "that we should seal the deal. Elsewhere." Tony's hand drops lower; Tim sucks in a breath next to her ear.
"Fine by me." Abby closes her knees, trapping Tony's arm, and leans precariously forward so she can give Tony a quick kiss. A quick kiss that threatens to turn dangerously passionate, especially when Tony wiggles his hand and his thumb brushes against her panties. She pushes him away, panting hard, and turns to give Tim the same treatment.
"Come on, let's go," she demands as soon as she breaks the kiss. "Or you'll have to arrest me for public indecency."
Tony helps her stand. Tim groans a little when she slides out of his lap. "I think I'm already there," he says. "Walk in front of me, please."
"Like anybody here would care," Abby tells him, but she does what he asks anyway. The less embarrassed Tim feels, the less likely he'll get sidetracked from their mission. And Abby definitely wants to get back to her place as soon as possible.
She waves goodbye to Evelyn, but that's the extent of her goodbyes. The ride home is quiet again, but for a different reason this time. They keep shooting each other hot looks and small, seductive smiles. Like they've got a secret so important that they can't even share it with the inside of the car. Tim entertains himself by trailing his fingers over her neck, and occasionally Tony's. Tony bats his fingers away, but then ruins his act by reaching back through the seat while they're at a stoplight and groping something that makes Tim squeak.
Abby giggles while she unlocks the door. She feels like they're about to do something wild and totally out-of-control, even though this is far from their first time. As soon as they're inside, Abby tosses her purse and stole onto the couch. Even that much time spent means she's lost the edge in the race; Tony already has Tim pinned against her front door. Their fingers are linked together, arms raised above their heads and pressed against the wood while they kiss.
"Oh, yeah," she says admiringly. "That is so hot."
She never thought that Tony would be so into Tim. Or guys at all. Tim, she'd kind of guessed about when they were first messing around. Tim's adventurous in ways that surprise even himself sometimes. It's what makes him more than just another computer geek. What makes him a good agent. But Tony--
There's no doubt about it now. Tony's got Tim right where he wants him, kissing him in a way that sends shivers up Abby's back and heat to her groin. He lets go of Tim's left wrist so he can cup Tim's face in his hand. And Tim gives back as good as he gets, his free hand creeping down to Tony's ass and pulling him closer.
Abby steps forward. Slides her hands across the smooth material of Tony's suit coat, down until she can slip under the tails and feel his ass, too. Slides her hands further, between his legs until she can cup his balls. She reaches further still, until she can feel Tim as well.
"Can we do this in the bedroom, guys?" Tim asks. His voice is breathy and high and a little muffled.
Abby squeezes, just enough to get their attention. "I wasn't the one who got distracted," she says, and then steps back. Spins so that her skirt flares out, and walks to her bedroom.
"Have I mentioned how good you look, Abs?" Tony says. He moves to sit on the edge of her bed. "Because you look really, really good."
She wiggles her shoulders, preening. "As good as your fantasy, then?"
"Better." He lifts her fingers to his mouth and sucks on her index finger. "Better than Marilyn."
"Hmm." She traces her wet finger over the V of bare skin at his collar. "You want me to leave it on?"
"Take off the wig. I want to see you," he answers immediately. "But leave the dress."
"Kinky." She glances at Tim, who's got his shoes and jacket off.
"Works for me," he agrees.
"Okay." She heads to the bathroom mirror so she can work the bobby pins out. "Feel free to get started without me. But don't you dare finish!"
Abby takes off the wig and runs a hand through her hair in less than thirty seconds. Then she sits down to take off her shoes, which takes a bit more work. She has to unwind the straps from her ankles. Then she strips off her underwear. Skips back to the bedroom wearing nothing but the dress.
The guys are already naked on the bed, her comforter carelessly pushed to the ground. They look up when she climbs onto the foot of the bed.
"Miss me?" she asks.
"Definitely," Tim says. He pulls her down between the two of them, and she gets lost in kisses and wandering hands for a few excellent minutes.
"You know what I want?" Tony whispers into her ear.
"Hmm. What do you want, Mr. Kinky?"
"I want to see you ride Tim."
She shivers. She absolutely cannot resist Tony when he uses that voice. The bedroom voice to beat all bedroom voices, low and gravelly and whispery-soft all at once. The image he paints with that voice doesn't hurt, either.
"And what are you going to do while we're doing that?" she asks, because she can never make things too easy. Tease is her middle name.
Coincidentally, it's Tony's, too.
"You'll see," he promises.
"What are you two plotting?" Tim asks, pulling away from Abby's breast. They've worked her out of the front of the dress, so her boobs are pushed up like she's wearing a corset. Abby glances down, and thinks not bad. Fake-blonde chick was no competition, after all.
"Oh, nothing," Tony answers faux-innocently. "Just deciding on how we're both going to fuck you."
"Ah." The look on Tim's face makes Abby giggle. "Well, okay. If it makes you happy."
"Oh, it does." She rolls to her side, tugs her skirt out of the way so she can climb to her knees. "Very happy. Now get on your back."
Tim complies without argument. Abby straddles his waist and reaches for the supplies on her nightstand. She can feel Tim twitching against her thigh, the head of his cock silky smooth. Her body screams for her to just sit back, but she's been a scientist way too long to listen to that demand.
"Here, let me," Tony offers. He takes the condom out of her hand. Instead of putting it on the most efficient way, he reaches under her skirt, between her legs. Abby rubs herself against his forearm while he works the rubber onto Tim.
"You guys are killing me," Tim says.
"Baby," Tony says, and Abby still has no idea how he can use that word and sound completely, utterly, masculinely Tony doing it, "we haven't even started yet."
Tim groans. Tony pulls his hand out of the way (but not before making a detour that has Abby groaning as well), and Abby sits down on Tim's cock. Takes him deep on the first go.
"Abby," Tim says, like a benediction. The way he says her name is everything she was wanting to hear earlier. The feel of him inside only adds to the sense of adoration.
She starts to move, slowly rocking back and forth, letting the tension build gently. Tony scoots close, reaching up to play with her nipples.
"You know, I never would have thought I'd be into the sharing thing," Tony says. "I mean, how good could that be, right?"
"You're not winning any--" Tim stops, eyes wide and eyelashes fluttering when Abby clenches as hard as she can around his cock. She lets up. He licks his lips and continues. "Not winning any points here, DiNozzo."
"I'm just saying I was wrong." Tony leaves her nipples to pinch Tim's. "Instead of half of a good thing, I've got twice as much."
"See, Timmy?" Abby grinds down again, loving the way she feels so full. "Tony's good at math, too."
"Have I explained arithmetic to you guys? Subtract the clothes, add the–"
"Tony," they groan at the same time. It's one of Tony's favorite lines, one that was old the first time he told it.
"A little busy here, Tony," Tim says. He's got his hands on her hips now, starting to thrust up into her faster and faster. Abby meets his every move.
"Yeah, but I'm getting bored," Tony says. His hand lands on her low back, pressing hard enough to slow her down. "Abby, lie down. And don't move. I want to try something."
"Tony," Tim whines, obviously frustrated. Abby's curious, though, so she lets him play.
Tony moves behind them. Pushes his way between Tim's legs, forcing them open wide enough that Abby's thighs are stretched almost uncomfortably wide. Tony lifts her skirt, cool air fluttering in to tickle at her pussy. Then there's hot air--Tony's hot breath. She figures out his plan just before his hands land on her ass cheeks, spreading her open.
"Oh, God," she cries at the first touch of his tongue. He starts with her vulva, the part furthest back where she's stretched wide by Tim's cock. Tony licks upward until he's rimming her. His tongue is strong and wet and impossibly hot, and Abby can't help thrusting back, squirming on Tim and trying to get more of Tony.
Then Tony's gone as quickly as he arrived. She groans and drops her head on Tim's chest, panting for air. Tim tenses, though, and bucks up into her. She gets the picture when Tony's spiky hair tickles her intimately. He must be sucking Tim's balls. Maybe biting at his thighs. She knows there's no way he can get far enough back to give Tim the same treatment he gave her, but what he's doing is still pretty hot. Tim must think so, too; she can feel his thighs quivering as he keeps himself from moving, and he keeps swallowing hard like he can barely breathe.
Then Tony moves back to Abby. Her nerves are on fire, and with Tim inside of her she thinks she'll come this way. Her muscles are already starting to twitch and clench. Any second now.
But then Tony moves away, goes back down to Tim. Abby groans and reaches under her skirt, determined to finish the job. She rubs her clit a few times, starts to get a good rhythm going, when Tony strikes again. He takes her right to the edge--and then leaves her hanging.
"Take it away, Tim," he says as he pops out from under her skirt.
She and Tim let loose at the same time, ramming into each other fast and furious.
"Oh, fuck, yes," she yells out. A second later she comes, everything clenching and throbbing and shuddering through her perfectly. Tim keeps moving, short thrusts that manage to draw it all out until Abby thinks her eyes are going to roll back in her head. She's vaguely aware of Tim moaning, his cock pulsing within her as he comes.
"Oh, wow," she says after she finally regains control of her brain. For a few seconds there she was worried she might have stroked out. "That was..."
"Wow," Tim agrees.
Tony looks insufferably smug. His face is still a little wet, and his hair is really mussed. Especially up front. "My turn," he announces. "You think you can go another round, Tim?"
"What do you think, Tony?"
Abby rolls her eyes and climbs off. Of course the guys have to compete over their refractory periods. It's not really a competition--Tim has a huge age advantage in that regard--but they always have fun playing the game. She carefully slides the condom off Tim, tosses it into the trash, and grabs a second one off the nightstand to hand to Tony. He's already got the bottle of lube.
"Pass it over when you're done," she tells him, rooting around in her drawer for her favorite toy. Watching is definitely fun, especially when she's properly equipped.
"Bossy," Tony mutters.
"You're one to talk," Tim says. He gets a bite on his shoulder, right at the base of his neck, in exchange for his cheekiness. Abby grins and slips out of her very wrinkled dress, then settles in to watch the show, propped on her pillows at the head of her bed.
Tim's lying mostly on his front, left arm curled around a pillow of his own. His eyes are shut and his mouth open, his cheeks sucking in with each breath. Tony doesn't take long to get him ready--doesn't have to when Tim's already come once--before he kneels up and holds out his hand. Abby passes him the condom.
She loves this moment. Tim bites his lip, and then his eyes open as the sensation of Tony entering him takes over. She knows what that's like--the boys have double-teamed her before--but seeing it on this end is almost as intimate. Tony's face is full of concentration, his eyes fixed on the action, his nose flaring with each harsh, controlled breath.
"Okay?" he asks as he settles in against Tim's back, so quietly that Abby can barely hear it.
Tim nods. He's staring her way, but Abby doesn't think he's seeing anything but whatever is going on inside his head. Tony rests on his side, braced on one elbow, the other arm reaching around so he can link his fingers with Tim's. His hips snap forward. One of them grunts. She's not sure who.
Tony keeps a slow, steady rhythm. For all of his bragging, he's even better in bed than he claims. And Abby's been with enough guys to know. She and Tim are both putty in his hands, which is both fun and scary. Scary because he could really use that against them, if he wanted to. But she knows he wouldn't. That, she's always trusted him on.
The guys are moaning together now, occasionally whispering things to each other that she can't make out. Abby picks up her vibe, runs it over her lips and pushes it in. She turns it on low. She's already primed, so she turns it up another notch pretty quickly. Her eyes start to drift shut as she gets into it, but she forces them open again.
Tony lets go of Tim's hand. Reaches around and grabs Tim's cock, which, sure enough, is hard again. She thinks Tony gets off on getting Tim hard, making him come again after he's already gotten off once. That's the real competition.
Tim's fingers clench in the sheets. Belatedly, Abby realizes she should have made him wear a condom, too, because now there's going to be a wet spot. It's too late to do anything about it, because Tony's hand is flying and Tim's gasping like he's just finished a four-minute mile.
She kicks the vibrator up to the next notch when Tim starts to come. There's not a lot, but it spurts up and over Tony's hand, and that's really, really hot. Tony grunts loudly--he's not far behind. She watches his face, watches him bite his lip until his jaw drops open and a tiny little whimper signals his orgasm.
Then Abby closes her own eyes and focuses inward. Lets the world drop away to nothing but the feel of her own body. She loves the way every orgasm is different, the way she always manages to surprise herself with the way it feels. This one sneaks up on her, like they often do with the vibe, a slow rhythmic pulse that she barely feels until she's shuddering through it. She rides it out until she can't take any more, then shuts off the vibe. Slides it out and opens her eyes.
Tony and Tim look back at her, identical pleased, lazy smiles on their faces. Tony pushes away from Tim's back. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a trio of wet washcloths and a pair of hand towels.
They clean up, more or less, then fight over who has to sleep over the wet spot (draped with a towel though it is). Abby somehow loses.
"Great party, Abs," Tony says quietly.
"Even though I totally lost it?"
"I thought he was talking about the one right here," Tim says against her shoulder. Abby punches him in the chest, but she's got a bad angle. He doesn't even say ow. "Hey, I'm kidding. The party was fine."
"So we're not freaking out, right? Because that would be bad."
"No freaking, Abs," Tony assures her. "We're here to stay."



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