Roswell Fanatics

Wee hours of the morning and I can't sleep so I figured I'd post the next chapter lol.
hugs, Tas


Chapter 6

Liz turned as the bell above the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of new customers. She hoped that it wasn't another big group; her shift was almost over and she didn't feel much like running around as she had with the last group. Her pasted-on smile became genuine, however, when she spied Max and Michael entering the café.

"What can I get for you guys?" she asked once they were seated. "I think Max has already paid for lunch! Possibly in more ways than one," Liz added, plucking a tiny twig from Max's hair. She handed it to him with a knowing look, smiling at the flush that appeared on his face.

"Liz, I—," Max started to say when she shook her head. He fell silent, confused.

"You two and that table over there are it for me. So, why don't you eat something and then we can all go somewhere and talk after, hmm?" she suggested. At their nods of agreement Liz pulled out her order pad, holding her pen expectantly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An hour and a half later the three of them were sprawled on Liz's balcony, faces tipped to the warm sun.

"So how was it?" Liz asked mischievously. The two men exchanged baffled looks.

"What?" Michael replied bluntly.

Liz turned on her side in the lounge chair to regard them with sparkling eyes. "The angry sex."

"Excuse me?" Max exclaimed. "We didn't—we didn't have sex." The words sounded bizarre spoken aloud, like having sex was something that he and Michael did regularly; that they were expected to do. Which he supposed it was in a sense, though it had only been a few times. Something about saying the words made it seem more…real.

Liz looked back and forth disbelievingly then a slow smile appeared on her features. She threw a small object at Max. "Forget something?"

He caught it and flushed upon realizing that it was, indeed, what they had both forgotten. Liz grinned at his embarrassment.

"Uh, why me?" Max inquired quickly, making Michael smirk.

"Because Michael's not the type to carry around toothpaste," was Liz's logical answer. "If you change the label, then no one who might see it would think twice about you being concerned with dental hygiene."

"Good idea," Michael approved as Max altered the label and stuck the tube in his pocket.

"Seriously, though, what happened? And I don't really mean your make-out session or whatever," Liz smiled.

"Why are you so sure that we did something?" Max asked.

"You don't get twigs and stuff in your hair unless you're flat on your back on the ground, Max. Or don't you remember trying to pick all the grass out of my hair last spring?"

"Right, down in the park. We didn't know they'd cut the grass during the day," Max smiled. "Yeah, I remember. It took me like an hour!"

"Exactly," Liz bobbed her head. "Anyway, did you two talk?" Her eyes met Max's and he felt warmed by her visible concern.

"Liz, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have left this morning. I just had to get out of there. You were all glowing, and I got insanely jealous, because you've never…never looked like that for something that had nothing to do with me." One corner of his mouth lifted at Michael's pleased expression.

Max watched Liz smile shyly at Michael in acknowledgement and he tensed, readying himself for a stab of resentment that never came. He groaned inwardly at himself. Michael's harsh accusations didn't seem so far off the mark anymore. Michael and Liz together didn't seem to bother Max at all, unless he wasn't there.

Liz caught the flash of guilt in Max's face and stood up, moving to his lounge chair. She motioned for him to move forward, surprised when he hesitated.

"Can I sit behind you?" Max offered as an alternative and Liz shrugged, settling between his legs and leaning back. Michael looked amused now and she asked, "What?"

"Nothing," Michael avoided the question, shooting a look at Max. Liz felt the rumble of Max's laughter in his chest, pressed against her.

"Michael was holding me like this when he, uh, he—well," Max coughed. "When he essentially yelled at me until I cried."

"You yelled at him, Michael? What were you thinking?" she exclaimed.

"Hey, it worked! Besides, I was not yelling. You were yelling," he told Max. "Up until you turned into a waterfall anyway."

"Right, you weren't yelling but it felt like you were," Max retorted with a smile. "You just kept pushing, Michael."

"Yep," he agreed smugly. Liz was only half listening now, her attention caught by the waterfall comment. She turned in Max's arms, raising a hand to trace his jaw line.

"He—you—you cried, Max? Like, really cried?" she asked wonderingly, not quite able to believe it. But when she looked at his eyes closely, she could see where they were a little bloodshot and irritated. Dejection washed over her at his bashful nod and her hand dropped to his chest. How could he let his guard down so completely with Michael, when he hadn't been able to with Liz? Shouldn't it have been easier for him to let go like that with her?

Liz knew that she had not kept her feelings from showing when Max's gaze darkened with comprehension of her pain. He raised gentle fingers to brush her cheek then gathered her close, stroking her hair.

"Liz," he breathed, his voice rough. She didn't reply, snuggling closer and burying her face in his neck. Nothing made her feel as safe as being in Max's arms, not even Michael. He was too impulsive to inspire a feeling of safety.

Michael sighed. He was equally irritated and amused that fate had dealt him the role of the stable element in this unusual relationship. Not in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be in that position, or that he'd be a natural at it. He had always been too busy running to find out.

"Let me see if I have this straight," Michael declared. "Max is upset because I had phone sex with Liz, and Liz is upset because Max cried with me. But nobody's upset that I sleep with both of you. What's wrong with this picture?"

A surprised giggle emerged from Liz's hidden face. "It does seem a bit silly when you put it like that," she agreed.

"It's not the activities, Michael, it's," Max groped for what he wanted to say. Michael beat him to it.

"It's because you hadn't done those things together first. I know that, Maxwell. But it isn't going to be the last time that happens, that I do something with one of you first. And a lot of times, this relationship is going to be a two and one deal. Two of us will be doing something while the third does something else. Anything else; I'm not talking about just sex. I mean like when Max and I went to see a movie that Liz didn't want to go to. Or you guys could go—I don't know, shopping or something and I'd stay home. Or like the fact that Liz and I work at the same place and Max doesn't. All of that kind of stuff will happen. So, what're we going to do about it?"

Liz sat up and looked at him, a smile playing around her lips. "Well, for starters you could get your butt over here so this isn't a two and one moment," she teased. Michael rolled his eyes as he stood and moved over to their chair, choosing to straddle the end of the lounge, facing them. Liz twisted so that she could see them both, while Max met Michael's eyes.

"It doesn't seem fair to not be completely honest, now that I've realized it myself, so…I'm just not ready for the two of you to be—intimate, without me there," Max said hesitantly. Michael knew he himself had already accepted that, but how would it make Liz feel? He saw the flash of surprise and regret in her face as she looked at Max.

"You know, I knew that, actually. I knew it would be hard for you to begin with. When I was first trying to figure out a way to, um, to be with both of you I enlisted Alex, and we talked about you being possessive, of me. And we thought that it would take time, you know, for you to—for you to let go enough, not just of me but of Michael, too. And well, we haven't really given you that time, Michael and I haven't, even though we both know you need it. So," she turned to look at Michael, silently asking if what she was saying was all right. He was shocked to find that he knew exactly what her eyes were pleading with him for and he gave her a little nod of approval. Liz smiled luminously and turned back to Max, continuing her train of thought.

"So anyway, Max, for now, we'll take things slow, and Michael and I won't do anything major without you. I'm not giving up my stolen kisses at work, though," she teased.

"Definitely not, that's one of the only things to look forward to about my crappy job!" Michael added, relieved to see that Max was smiling.

"Thank you, both of you. I feel kind of bad, you know, that I'm not OK with it just yet, but I can't," Max was silenced by a quick kiss from Liz.

"No guilt, Max. So we take it slow and give everyone a little time to adjust. It's a good thing for our relationship to do that," she said firmly.

Michael watched them and it struck him that Max wasn't the only one who should need time to adjust. He slanted a curious look at Liz. "Not to be rude or anything, but Liz, why doesn't it bother you about Max and I? You seemed to think it was a given that we would fool around when you're not there."

"Oh," Liz responded, ducking her head a little in embarrassment. "I've thought about that a lot and I think it's because you're a guy."

"What?" Max and Michael said in unison.

Liz pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to explain. "Um, it's kind of that I don't feel threatened by you, Michael. Which doesn't mean that I think Max loves me more or that he wants me more or anything like that. It's just different, him being with you than with another woman. Actually, I told Maria that I wouldn't share him with her at Tommy's party, that's when I found out she was interested in Isabel," Liz smiled at the recollection.

"Let's leave Maria and everyone else out of this, all right? It gets confusing enough with us three!" Michael exclaimed.

"Yeah. How is it different, Liz?" Max asked attentively.

"OK. I'm going to go into stereotypes here so bear with me," Liz told them. She used her hands to gesture in explication as she continued, "You're both guys. Which as a general rule means that—well, that if you can get it you're going to take it. So if you're together, and either of you is in the mood, I just sort of expect that you'd, you know, do something."

"That explains why you think we spend all our time together in the sack, but not why it doesn't bother you," Michael pressed her with a grin. Max's eyebrows were drawn together in an expression of mild shock.

"Well, kind of, it does," Liz disagreed. "But I guess—the thing is, that I don't see you, Michael, as a rival, you know? I mean I'm the only woman you guys have got! And yeah, sometimes I get like, nervous that you'll stop swinging my way, but I know you both love me, and that's, well, it's more important. Plus, I don't have any of the sexuality issues, because you are both male. Like I said, it's just different," she shrugged, not at all sure that she was being clear. She sighed inwardly in relief as Max nodded slowly.

"That makes sense. I guess that part of me still sees Michael as a rival, instead of as a partner. At least I now what to work on," he said wryly.

"Yeah, me too," Michael admitted. Liz smiled as he and Max locked gazes in perfect understanding. She reached out and tugged on Michael's shirt, urging him to come closer. He did, moving forward until his thighs overlapped Max's, trapping Liz in the middle. Michael tilted her face up towards him and Liz closed her eyes as his mouth descended to hers.

His tongue teased her lips apart and crept inside to brush gently against hers. Liz slid her arm around Michael's neck as he kissed her, keeping her other hand braced on Max's upper thigh. At length they drew back simultaneously and smiled at Max.

"Come here," Michael invited him, and Liz felt the familiar fluttering in her stomach as she watched them kiss over her, Max opening to Michael as eagerly as she had. She had a sultry little smile on her face as they broke apart.

"What?" Michael asked.

"Oh, nothing. I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing that," Liz commented.

"Seeing what?" Max inquired.

"Seeing Michael slip you the tongue," she answered impudently, grinning when Max blushed. Liz leaned over and kissed him, tasting Michael on his lips.

"It's too bad that kissing is definitely a two and one activity," she said breathlessly when she sat back up. "Though the uh, the turn-taking is nice."

Liz shivered as her men looked at each other and Michael gathered her hair in one hand, pulling it on top of her head.

"Well, that may be true of mouth to mouth kissing but that's not the only kind," Max's mischievous comment was her only warning before his lips began to trail fire down the side of her neck. Liz moaned as Michael echoed his action, kissing the other side and licking her ear lobe.

"You two are going to be the death of me," she gasped as Max bent her over his arm, thrusting her breasts into the air. Michael obligingly held one side of her uniform while Max pulled it open, the snaps releasing with a swift tug.

"Have I mentioned that I love this uniform?" Max asked rhetorically before sucking one hardening nipple into his mouth.

"N—no," Liz managed to answer, arching into his wet caress. "Wh—why?"

"Because it's short, it's low-cut, your legs are always bare and it opens so damn easily," Michael whispered against her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth when he finished speaking. He pulled back almost immediately, and Liz's eyes drifted open to find him gazing hungrily at her.

"You won't need to pretend this time," Michael murmured as his hand slid down her body until it eased under the waistband of her panties. He paused there, his fingers resting lightly on her curls, waiting for her comprehension and acquiescence.

Liz felt a flood of moisture as she realized he was referring to their conversation and involuntarily her thighs spread farther apart, her body aching with the need for his touch. She saw the flaring satisfaction in Michael's eyes before he kissed her again, his tongue working her open mouth as his hand slipped deeper, his fingers entering her slick warmth and stroking her.

Helplessly Liz thrust against Michael's hand while Max's hands and mouth paid loving attention to her sensitive breasts, tugging at her firm nipples and gently biting her creamy skin. Michael's insistent kisses smothered her moans when he pushed into her hard, and when he withdrew his fingers from her body to delicately stroke her clitoris. The errant thought crossed her mind that if anyone were to see her now, bent backwards over the arms of two men with her Crashdown waitress uniform gaping and her legs wide open so they could pleasure her, they would be shocked at her utterly wanton behavior. Liz moaned at the picture that created in her mind and defiantly spread her legs as far apart as she could, exposing herself fully to the sunshine.

She heard Michael groan as she opened herself even more. He began to stroke her a little harder, following the rhythm of her circling hips as she instinctively tried to get closer. Liz responded by speeding up and he kept pace with her. His fingers rubbed in smaller and smaller circles until he was working the tiny bundle of nerves and pressing harder and harder as she pushed against his hand. There came a moment of sudden, surprising stillness and then Liz cried out into Michael's mouth as she shook in the grip of her orgasm.

Max and Michael touched her gently now, waiting for her to stop shaking before they stopped. When at last Liz was quiescent, Max sat up and Michael withdrew his hand, then they lifted Liz into an upright position. Dazedly she refastened the front clasp of her bra and began to snap her uniform closed, grimacing a little at her soaked underwear.

"Nice listening," Max complimented Michael, a twinkle in his eyes. Michael's eyes widened in awareness and he grinned, but Liz was confused.

"Listening to what? No one was saying anything," she commented as she smoothed out her redone uniform.

"Your body is as smart as your mind, Liz," Max told her, kissing her forehead. "It tells us exactly what you need, if we're paying attention. As long as we listen to what your body's saying, we can always make you feel good."

"You think I'm feeling good?" Liz asked, her lips twitching with a repressed smile. She restrained her laughter as the two men exchanged perplexed, disappointed looks.

"Aren't you?" Michael inquired. Liz couldn't hold in her smile any longer at the tone of his voice; he sounded like a little boy who had lost his puppy.

"No. Actually, I feel fantastic," she said flippantly, grinning at their obvious relief. "Boy, are you two sensitive! I would never, ever fake it, with either of you. I don't see the point; it just hurts everyone, and besides I don't need to," she winked. "But Max, you at least ought to have known better."

Max looked puzzled for a moment and then laughed. "You mean the spider?" He laughed again when she nodded.

"What are you talking about?" Michael wanted to know.

"Liz and I were—well, I was, you know, going down on her and she saw a spider on the ceiling," Max relayed. "Instead of like, making me think things were finished she shrieked and insisted on its immediate death. I spent the next ten minutes standing on my chair, trying to kill the damn thing! By that time, she didn't feel like doing anything so we just went back to our homework," he shrugged.

"All right, that's a totally honest reaction!" Michael laughed. "I can dig that."

"You know, it kind of sucks that there isn't a good word to describe that," Liz complained whimsically. "Fellatio sounds like some kind of opera and blowjob sounds crude but OK. But cunnilingus is just gross-sounding, and there isn't any other specific word."

"Cunnilingus?" Michael raised his eyebrows at her language and Liz giggled.

"Well, yeah. Sure it's accurate: -lingus refers to tongue, and cunni- refers to…well, you know, but it doesn't sound like something pleasant."

"And you think it's something pleasant?" Michael teased.

"Completely," Liz deadpanned, unable to prevent the slight hitch in her breath.

Max leaned close and murmured in her ear, loud enough that Michael could hear too, "I suppose I could have said that I was licking your clitoris. Would that have been more to your, hmm, taste?"

"Max!" Liz whipped her head around to look at him in shock. She couldn't believe that he had actually said that! Or that your body's clamoring for his tongue now, when you just came a few minutes ago, her mind whispered. In verbal protest against her traitorous self, she grumbled, "Don't you two ever stop?"

"I think it was you who made all the generalizations about us being your average, horny guys, Liz," Michael chided with a smile. She shrugged and his smile broadened.

"Fine, fine. Well, you can go be horny teenagers without me because I have a lot of homework to do," Liz pointed at the balcony railing.

"Yeah, so do we," Michael sighed. He bristled at their expressions. "What? Yes, I do homework. I would like to graduate before I have gray hair, you know."

"So, I'll see you guys out and then I'm going to change into my p.j.'s and curl up with my textbooks. And no, I'm a big girl and I don't need any help changing!" Liz forestalled any offers of assistance. Michael moved back on the lounge chair then stood up, Liz and Max following him to their feet. The three of them climbed into Liz's window and walked to her front door, where they had originally entered the apartment. She kissed them goodbye and closed the door behind them.

Max and Michael went outside, blinking in the bright sunlight as they started to walk.

"You know, Maxwell, I had some reservations about that idea you were talking about earlier," Michael said noncommittally.

Max slanted a glance at him. "You did, huh? And you're bringing it up now, why?"

"Because after what just happened, I don't have them anymore," Michael grinned. "In fact, I'm thinking that you may have had a flash of pure genius!"

"It was hardly a flash, Michael, considering how long I've been fantasizing about it!" Max laughed. "So, I don't have to work Wednesday or Thursday night. You?"

"I'm free on Wednesday," Michael nodded. "Wanna go get everything then?"

"Sounds like a plan," Max agreed. "Listen, Michael, about what happened…"

"I got it, Max. You stepped aside and played second fiddle, and believe me I appreciated it," Michael chuckled.

Max's mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. "Yeah. It won't be like that on Sunday, Michael; you know that," he warned. Michael stopped walking and turned to face Max, looking down into his eyes.

"I'm well aware that you'll be calling all the shots, Maxwell, and I can't wait," his voice was low and intense, matching the fire in his gaze. Max shivered at his naked desire.

"As long as we're clear," he said huskily. Max stuffed his hands into his pockets so that he would not reach out and touch Michael, and stepped around him to continue walking. Michael turned and fell into step with him easily, his hands reflexively seeking his own pockets. Silently the two men walked through the downtown area of Roswell, each lost in his own thoughts, each comfortable with the other and with the restrictions they had chosen, even as they yearned to be free to hold each other's hand. Both thinking of the dark glory of Liz Parker's eyes and the radiance of her smile; both feeling the warmth of her love, and of the love they had for each other. One woman and two men: in each other's arms and in each other's hearts, they would all find themselves.

Posted in two parts for length.
hugs, Tas


Chapter 7

"So…are you going in?"

Liz stared at Michael's apartment building through the windshield of the Jetta. She could just barely see his back door from here.

"Yeah, I'm going in," she nodded, not moving.

Maria laughed. "Anytime soon? You are now," she grabbed Liz's wrist and checked her watch, "five minutes late. Are you like, worried about what they have planned? Because you know, whatever it is it wasn't just Michael who planned it so it should be OK!"

"No, that doesn't really worry me. I trust them," Liz said absently, continuing to stare while she took deep, calming breaths.

"Well what is your problem then, Lizzie? You're creeping me out, girlfriend," Maria smiled at her.

"I—oh, this is so stupid. I don't want to ruin whatever they have planned, Maria, but I'm afraid that when I go in there I'm not even going to notice any of—whatever. I'll be too busy thinking about how I can get one or both of them into bed," she confessed, blushing slightly.

"What?" Maria squealed. "How is that possible, with the amount of playtime the three of you have?"

"That's just it," Liz turned to her friend. "There hasn't been any playtime since last weekend, and I'm like climbing the walls now! I've never been so frustrated about anything in all my life, not even when Max was being so stubborn about not being together. Now that I'm—well, I'm used to a certain amount of, um, activity, not having any is—is—it's frustrating!" she exclaimed.

"Let me get this straight: you haven't gotten anything out of Max or Michael all week?" Maria asked in disbelief.

Liz nodded vigorously. "Right. I mean, you'd think that since I have two boyfriends, both of whom are usually your typical teenage guys in that respect, that I'd be able to have sex whenever I felt like it, right?"

Maria nodded in agreement and Liz continued. "Except this week! The day before yesterday, Michael actually had the nerve to remove my hands from his butt—and he wouldn't open his mouth when he kissed me, either! If we were all younger I'd think I had cooties," she said glumly.

"Except that if we were younger you wouldn't be having sex with either of them so it wouldn't be an issue," Maria commented, grinning. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be more sympathetic," she added when Liz glared at her. "So that's why all the frosty looks?"

"Yep," Liz admitted. "Petty and childish, I know, but it seemed oh so appropriate!" Both women laughed then Liz sobered.

"I'm wondering if, you know, maybe they want to be alone together. Like, without me. At all, I mean, not just for this week. What if they're not interested in girls anymore?"

Maria couldn't hold it in any longer; she burst into peals of laughter, drowning Liz's petulant complaints that she was not being a good friend. Finally she gasped out, "Oh God, Liz! I don't think that's it at all. The looks that Michael's been giving you when you can't see him could melt the paint off the walls, my dear! No, I think that they just wanted you to stew for a while, probably so they could do something interesting today."

"You think?" Liz asked, perking up a little.

"Yes, I think. I kind of figured that the reason I'll be picking you up for dinner later is because you won't be much good for walking," she winked.

"Maria!"

"Yeah, tell me that concept bothers you," Maria snorted.

"Well, it, uh, it—you're right, it doesn't bother me in the slightest," Liz laughed. "When exactly did I turn into this sex-crazed person?"

"Uh, probably when you found out first hand how fucking awesome sex with an alien is?" Maria guessed, spreading her hands wide with an innocent look.

"That statement implies that you have first hand knowledge, too," Liz said suspiciously. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No," Maria sighed. "I was referring strictly to your gushing."

"Oh," Liz replied. "Maria, if it makes you uncomfortable…"

"Liz, no, OK? I love that you're happy. I love hearing about just how happy you are," she giggled. "I like having all kinds of weird and wonderful images of Max and Michael in my head and knowing that they don't have any idea that I know such intimate things about them! I guess that sometimes I just feel lonely."

"What about Isabel? Do you still have feelings for her? I mean, you and Alex are great friends; if Isabel's into you the three of you could probably try it out," Liz offered.

"No. No, I wouldn't do that to Alex. Besides, Isabel is…well, looking at her makes me feel the same as looking at Josh Hartnett, you know? All mushy and weak at the knees, but I wouldn't want to get involved with her. I don't think I could love her, and I know I'd never feel the way that Alex does about her. They're perfect together, just the two of them. My significant other is still out there, somewhere."

"Um, so Josh still does it for you? Does that mean that you're like Max and Michael?" Liz asked hesitantly.

"Yeah I guess so," Maria smiled. "I think the gender thing just isn't really an issue with me? When I find someone, I'll know, and it doesn't matter if it's a man or a woman because it'll be the right person. Does that make any sense?"

"It makes perfect sense to me," Liz smiled back and hugged Maria. "OK, I'd better get inside, I just saw Michael's curtains twitch! They must be looking out and wondering why we're still sitting here," she laughed.

"Wait, did you say curtains? Since when does Michael have curtains?"

"Um, good question. They weren't there before. That is Michael's, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's definitely his place. OK, I want full disclosure tonight when I pick you up, girlfriend! I am dying to know what the hell they're up to now," Maria laughed. "If you've domesticated Michael into putting up actual curtains instead of tacking tie-dyed sheets to the wall, I need to know how!!"

"I will tell you, I promise. What's this?" Liz asked as Maria pressed a small bag into her hands.

"Uh, just something Michael asked me to make sure you had with you," Maria coughed guiltily. "Don't freak; I really don't know what's going on. They asked me a couple of questions is all, and Michael asked me to do this. So go, have a good time, and I'll see you in a few hours! Hopefully you'll be off the walls by then," she grinned.

"Just for that I may let you live in suspense," Liz threatened fondly. "OK, I'm going. Wish me luck!"

"You don't need luck," Maria rolled her eyes. "How about I wish you multiple orgasms?"

"That works too," Liz giggled, turning pink. "Love you. Bye!"

She got out of the car, carrying the bag Maria had handed her, and walked briskly up to Michael's back door as the Jetta roared away. Liz's heart was pounding as she waited for someone to answer her knock.

Abruptly the door yawned open to reveal Max and Michael standing there with welcoming smiles. Hesitantly Liz stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind her, locking it before she turned to face her men. At least, she thought they were still her men. Despite Maria's comforting words, a flutter of nervous fear stayed in her stomach. Her nose wrinkled as she smelled something delicious. It smelled like…cookies or something. Oh, no, had Michael baked a cake for her?

"Hi. Uh, you guys didn't like bake anything, did you? Because it smells wonderful," she smiled.

"Happy Birthday, Liz. No, we didn't bake anything," Max laughed.

"Oh. That's good. Michael, no offense but I had to eat some birthday cake at Isabel's surprise party while you guys were off dealing with Whitaker, and it was not pleasant," Liz said apologetically. "I'm sure she thought it was great, but you know I don't really like Tabasco!"

"Yeah, that was pretty much my one and only foray into the world of the pastry chef," Michael laughed. "I'll stick to flipping burgers. Happy Birthday, sweetheart."

"Thanks. Um, Maria said you asked her to bring this," Liz handed the bag to Michael. He took it with a smile and placed it on the counter as Liz looked around, noticing a number of changes. The room looked pulled together, like everything went with everything else. She couldn't really put her finger on what had changed beyond the addition of the curtains, but it felt like a finished room now.

"What's going on? We saw the curtains from outside and had to check that we were in the right place!"

Michael coughed, embarrassed. "I made the mistake of asking Iz for a little help with something. Next thing I know, all the windows have curtains and everything in the bathroom matches," he said disgustedly.

Liz laughed. "Ah, it all makes sense now! Mind if I look around?"

"Well, first we need to give you your present before you do that," Max told her.

"All right," Liz agreed, curious about how nervous they both looked. The flutter in her stomach eased somewhat upon realizing that she wasn't the only one feeling unsure of how to act right now.

"Come sit," Michael invited as he sank into the couch and patted the cushion beside him. Liz made her way over and sat beside him as Max brought out a large, gaily wrapped box and handed it to her before sitting tensely on the coffee table.

"Open it," he urged. Liz glanced at Michael, seeing the same anticipation in his face, and mentally shrugged as she tore the paper off the box. She removed the top of the box and pulled apart the tissue paper to find a plush crimson bathrobe with matching ballerina-style slippers. Liz ran her hand over the robe and closed her eyes, enjoying its softness. She picked up the slippers and little scent pellets fell out of one, prompting her to exclaim, "That's what I could smell! These are vanilla scented!"

"Do you like it?" Michael asked.

"I love it, it's gorgeous! And the color is so pretty," she stroked the luxurious fabric. "Thank you, both of you. But why did you want me here at ten-thirty in the morning to give me this?"

"Right. Well, the vanilla smell, it isn't from just those little smelly things," Max said. "It's more from the bubble bath that's waiting for you."

"Bubble bath? You want me to have a bath so I can try out my new robe?" Liz was thoroughly confused as they both grinned.

"Not exactly. Uh, the robe is only the first present, to sort of go with the theme of the day, and to give you something, well, concrete that you could show your parents," Michael explained.

"And the theme of the day would be?" Liz asked.

"We thought that for your eighteenth birthday, you deserved a—a spa day," Max said. Mischievously he elaborated, "A politically incorrect spa day."

Liz looked back and forth between the two men, waiting for further explanation of the glee on their faces at having surprised her. "OK, I give! I know what a spa day is, and it sounds absolutely wonderful. I can't believe that you two would go to all that trouble for my birthday! But what, pray tell, is a politically incorrect spa day?"

"Well, that would be one that included inappropriate touching," Max said, barely keeping a straight face.

"Inappropriate touching," Liz repeated, her heart beating faster at what that might mean. She started as Michael reached for the buttons on her shirt, caressing the skin he exposed as he slowly unbuttoned it.

"Extremely inappropriate," Michael breathed. Gently he tugged Liz to her feet and eased her shirt off, her bra following it to the couch. He knelt to pull off her jeans and in a couple of minutes, Liz stood naked in front of them. Fire shot through her at the hungry way they both gazed at her nude body; she'd been panicking over nothing in the car with Maria. Feeling suddenly powerful Liz stretched, hiding a smile as her movement riveted their attention on her bare breasts.

"Here," Max said gruffly, handing her the bag she had brought from Maria. "It's supposed to have makeup remover and all that stuff to clean your face so you can put a mask on."

"A mask? Like for a facial?" Liz asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. We got your skin type and whatever else figured out. Actually, Maria picked out most of the products and Isabel told us the rest," Michael admitted, scratching his eyebrow.

"How would Isabel know anything about my skin type?" Liz couldn't quite take it in that they were serious. Maria, the little sneak, had obviously known way more than she had let on!

"Not the skin stuff, but what kind of bubble bath makes the best bubbles and she got us that, what is it, Max?"

"Sea salt scrub," Max said after checking the label on a small jar that had been behind the gift box on the counter. "Which reminds me, Liz you'd better take a look at the bedroom before your bath since we're going to put a sheet over the bed so we can scrub you in there, then you can get back in the tub to rinse off."

"OK," Liz agreed readily. She was stunned enough to agree to almost anything at this precise moment. She followed Michael, Max trailing behind them, over to the closed bedroom door. Michael opened it with a flourish.

"Ta-da!" he announced, watching her face. Liz gasped in surprise.

"My God, Michael, what a change!" she exclaimed. The room was done in charcoal gray and crimson red, with artful touches of black. The bed had always been the focal point of the room but the new, larger wrought iron canopy bed demanded attention. Filmy red curtains hung from the four corners of the canopy, held against the posts with black, tasseled rope. The duvet looked soft and inviting with its paler gray combined with the deeper colors. What completely floored Liz was the headboard. Like the footboard, it consisted of a curved crosspiece with parallel rods running vertically, rather like an old-fashioned fence. The headboard had an additional decoration, however: a large, oval medallion of black enamel overlaid with a swirling silver symbol that Liz knew.

"That's from the pendant," she pointed at the medallion. "Did you guys make that? And how did you afford all this, Michael?"

"We did make it. Not just the pendant symbol but the whole thing, out of plumbing pipes. You know, we kind of used our powers on the pipes and made it look how we wanted. And Isabel did the same thing with all the fabric stuff. She bought a couple of crappy sheet sets and turned them into everything else: the curtains, the bedspread, even the stupid tiny carpets in the bathroom. So it didn't cost much. Don't you like it?" Michael's voice was tightly controlled as he spoke. Liz was starting to learn that that meant his emotions were running high, and the clipped way he asked if she liked it told her that he was hurt by her question.

"Yes, of course I like it. I love it! It's so mysterious and sexy," she reassured him, smiling inwardly when a cocky little smirk appeared on his lips. "And isn't it the same red as my new robe?" Liz ran her fingers along the edge of the bed; it felt almost as good as her robe, too. If Michael and Max had spent so much time and attention on this, right down to matching her clothing to the duvet cover, then she just might get to experience how good that fabric would feel against the rest of her.

"Yeah. Isabel thought it was a great bedroom color when we showed her the robe. We both like it, and I know you like dark red, so it seemed appropriate," Max smiled.

"Yeah," Michael echoed. "So, are you ready for your bath? After you wash your face we'll put the goop on it and you can sit in the bubbles for about twenty minutes. Then we'll wash it off and bring you in here for the salt scrub."

"Are you even wearing any makeup?" Max asked, peering at her.

"A little," Liz laughed. "Guess I did a good job applying it if you can't tell! I'll go wash it off, and let you know when I'm done?"

"Sounds like a plan," Michael nodded.

Liz turned to leave then spun back around. "I have just one request. Do you think you could make it a little more even in the clothes department? Here I am stark naked and you two are fully dressed. Max, you haven't even taken off your shoes yet!"

Max looked down at his feet in embarrassment. "Sure, we can do that. Two half naked men coming up," he joked as he peeled off his T-shirt. Liz swept his torso with an appreciative glance before going into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later she was ensconced in the steaming bath water, inhaling the fragrant bubbles with pleasure. They had stationed a small stool beside the tub with a glass of her favorite soda, a small bowl of chilled cucumber slices and another small bowl of cold, wet chamomile teabags; both supposedly good to put on your eyelids to reduce puffiness. Liz chose to leave her eyelids bare and leaned back into the terrycloth bath pillow, adjusting the position of her hair clip upwards so that she wasn't leaning on it. The papaya mask felt cool on her face as her body temperature rose from the hot water and Liz relaxed, enjoying the sensation.

In what seemed like no time at all, Liz found herself stretched out on Michael's new bed with gleamingly clean skin. She smiled as the sheet crackled underneath her when she shifted; apparently they had thought far enough ahead to put plastic under the sheet so that the lovely new bedclothes weren't ruined. Or their own clothes, since both men were now down to only boxers.

Liz relaxed completely as Max and Michael each picked up one of her feet and began to apply the salt scrub to her skin, moving up her legs as each patch was covered. She noted absently that they both rubbed in circles, smiling at the thought that perhaps they would for everything now. Her eyes flew open as they reached the top of her legs and applied the scrub to her inner thighs, spreading it very close to the thin hairline between her legs. Once that was accomplished their hands moved over her hips and Max gently parted her buttocks while Michael's fingers pressed into the crevice connecting them and carefully scrubbed the sensitive skin there before all four of their hands continued upwards.

When Liz's back was done, Max and Michael flipped her over and started on her front, again doing her feet first. She knew they were aware of her hardened nipples, as she was aware of their erections pushing out the fabric of their shorts. Yet they all maintained the silence and it was somehow more erotic that way, as if they were doing something forbidden. Even when they manipulated her breasts and rolled her tight nipples in their fingers, smothering all of her with the scrub, Liz remained silent, ignoring the urge to moan.

Michael carried her back into the bathroom, depositing her into the tub after waving a hand over it to reheat the water. He took a washcloth and cleansed the scrub from her skin tenderly as Max undid Liz's hair clip and finger-combed her hair. Liz smiled as Max used the handheld shower nozzle to wet her hair then poured shampoo into his hand and massaged it into her scalp. He noticed her smile.

"What?" Max asked softly. Michael looked up from Liz's legs at his voice and grinned as he saw her smile.

"You have a hair fetish, Maxwell," he said bluntly.

"Oh," Max replied, reddening. He looked down at Liz, asking shyly, "Do you mind?"

Liz stared up into his impossibly beautiful eyes, with their touches of embarrassment and worry. "How long was my hair the first time you kissed me, Max?"

"Uh, about six inches shorter than it is now. Why?"

"Does that answer your first question?" Liz joked playfully. The smile that broke over his face was like the sun coming out and she grinned in return, and then closed her eyes as his lips lowered to hers.

This time Liz didn't bother controlling the urge to moan when Max's tongue slipped into her mouth. God, he tasted incredible! She moaned louder as Michael's cloth-covered hand washed away the scrub on her inner thighs and her bottom, working his way up to her breasts and cleansing them too while Max continued to kiss her. Only when the rest of her was clean again did Max pull back and resume shampooing her hair. Smiling, he rinsed it with the shower nozzle again then applied conditioner and worked it through her hair, rinsing a third time when he was finished. He squeezed out the excess moisture and picked Liz up, standing her on the small blue bath mat. Michael's entire bathroom was blue now, in all different shades. Liz liked it, and suspected that Michael did too for all his complaining.

"Now what?" she asked a little breathlessly as Michael toweled her off. "Please tell me you're not going to paint my nails or anything like that. Not even Alex got the hang of that!"

Max laughed, and so did Michael as he reassured her, "No way. What happens now, actually, is the full body massage."

"F—full body massage," Liz echoed, eliciting wider smiles from both men.

"Yeah, think you can handle it?" Michael teased.

Liz tossed her head, her wet hair flinging water at him. "Handle it? What's to handle? It's not like you've never had your hands on me before, the recent drought notwithstanding," she added acidly. Liz winced inwardly; she hadn't meant to say that part out loud.

"Liz, are you upset about that?" Max asked, his voice and face reflecting the same concern as Michael's.

"Kind of," she confessed. "I thought maybe you didn't want to play on my side of the street anymore."

"You lost me," Michael shook his head in confusion. "What street?"

"Women, Michael. It seemed like you didn't want me anymore and maybe you'd decided to be together, just the two of you, without me," she finished in a whisper, near tears. Michael pulled her into his arms and Max moved in close behind her, his arms going around them both.

"Oh, Liz, it didn't even occur to us that you might think that. We've been in a drought all week too," Max apologized. "It would be—Liz, I think I'll have to stop breathing before I stop wanting you. I may not always be able to act on those desires when we're all like eighty with blindingly white hair, but I will always, always find you utterly desirable. Even with a brush cut," he added, making her laugh.

"I don't think I'd look very good with a brush cut, Max," Liz protested.

"Well, I won't deny that it's not my first choice," Michael interjected, "but you'd still be sexy as hell, Liz. I'm sorry. We're sorry. We thought we'd build up the anticipation some, you know?"

"It would have helped if I'd known that's what I was doing, instead of going nuts wondering why you didn't want me to touch you. It made me feel ugly, Michael, like I was some gross thing. I've never felt like that before. Less than beautiful, sure, but never like that. Max…at least Max kissed back, and he didn't push me away," Liz choked out, her tears falling freely now.


Max stepped back, sensing that this was something the two of them needed to work out. He ached for Liz, feeling the way she had, but he ached for Michael too because he knew how hard it had been for him to deny her. Max at least had had practice doing so. And even more practice in saying no, he thought ruefully to himself. How many times had they come so close to giving themselves to each other, only to have something interfere? Or for Max to back away, too afraid that it might hurt Liz? Michael had never said no to Liz before; he hadn't needed or wanted to until now.

"Liz, I couldn't. I had to keep my guard up all the way because if I let it slip, it was going all the way down. You would have been up against the kitchen wall with your legs wrapped around my waist, sweetheart," Michael told her, his demeanor serious. "I don't—I'm not like Max, I don't have a lot of self-control. After Max and I agreed to keep things cool this week, I had to stay away from you. Max said it, you know, I'll be chasing you around the bedroom when I can't see without Coke bottles for glasses and none of us have teeth or hair or whatever. And I know that you'll still be able to snap what little control I do have with one of those "come hither" looks, and nothing else!"

Liz was sniffling and giggling now, her face still pressed to Michael's chest. ""Come hither"? When did you start speaking medieval English, Michael?"

"Ah, that's what Maria used to call it; I kinda fell into the habit. You know the one—the "I want to eat you alive" look. Sometimes you look at my like that from across the room and no matter what else is going on, I get instantly hard."

"Oh, you mean this look," Liz murmured as she raised her head and stared into Michael's eyes. Max stifled a laugh as Michael's expression changed from despondent to hungry in the space of a few heartbeats, before he lowered his head and kissed Liz.

Max fidgeted as the kiss went on and on, and finally he cleared his throat. "If you guys don't mind, could we maybe continue with the birthday spa?"

"Sorry, man," Michael muttered, almost embarrassed as he and Liz broke apart. "I did mention that I had no control where she's concerned!"

"It's not that I mind, Michael, it's that I was rather looking forward to giving Liz here a massage and I can't do that while your tongue's down her throat," Max chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to that too. Touching more of this beautiful skin," he smiled at Liz as he trailed a finger down her arm. She shivered and turned her head to look at Max. His breath whooshed out of him at the fire in her gaze: "come hither," indeed!

"Are we going back into the bedroom for this?" Liz asked, smiling when Max nodded. "Well, let's go then!"

"Actually," Michael halted her, "we have to set up yet. And it's after lunchtime, so we should eat something first anyway."

"I am kind of hungry," Liz remarked, her sparkling eyes indicating her double meaning.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll feed you," Max promised, lifting her wet hair and kissing her neck. "Why don't you go wrap yourself in the robe while Michael and I get things ready?"

Liz reached up and kissed him languorously, her tongue flirting with his, then pulled back and nodded.

"OK I'll go surround myself in sensual luxury while you two do whatever it is you need to do!" she laughed. "I love you, Max and Michael."

"Right back at ya," Michael smiled and Max nodded in agreement.

"We love you, too. Go, get comfortable and warm. You must be getting cold," Max traced a line across her shoulder and watched the gooseflesh appear.

"Only now that one of you isn't holding me. I'll see you in a few," Liz smiled and left the bathroom.

"Shit, Max, I feel like a complete asshole," Michael commented quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe we should just give her the massage and leave it at that. There'll be other times for your fantasy."

"I feel like an idiot myself. We knew she was sensitive about us closing her out sexually; we should have told her that we had something planned and that's why we wanted to stay celibate this week. But what's done is done, Michael. You handled that, really well. And as for my fantasy…can you think of a better way to prove to Liz that we find her absolutely desirable?" Max asked with a smile.

A slow answering smile spread across Michael's face. "You know what, Maxwell? I can't. Come here," he gestured Max closer and pulled him into an embrace.

Max rested his head on Michael's shoulder. "Mmm, you smell like Liz's bubble bath."

"So do you," Michael chuckled. "Good thing we didn't get something flowery. Vanilla's pretty all purpose."

"Mmm-hmm," Max murmured, licking Michael's throat.

"Maxwell," he warned. Max tilted his head back and gave Michael a smoldering look of his own, smiling slightly in satisfaction as it got the yearned for response. Michael's lips met Max's in a slow, sweet kiss. Max was the one who pulled away, all too soon.

"I missed you, too," he whispered and one corner of Michael's mouth lifted.

"Then how come you ended the kiss so early?" Michael teased.

"Because today is all about control, Michael, and as you pointed out to Liz, I'm the one in control," his eyes glinted dangerously as he reached between Michael's legs, giving his cock one swift, hard stroke. Michael emitted a strangled sound but kept it together.

"All right then, Mr. Control Freak, let's go take care of our girl."

Happy holidays, everyone! -mas: This is going to be my last chapter posted before Christmas, but hey, it's over 30 pages in Word, 3 posts long, and pretty much guaranteed to make you merry!
hugs, Tas :flasingsmile:


Chapter 8

"I should have known that your guys' idea of a utensil-free lunch would be to order a pizza," Liz laughed as she washed her hands of any tomato sauce. The two men followed suit, grinning.

"You know how well we cook, Liz," Max admonished her.

"Yeah, we thought about doing all the cut up fruit and stuff and hand feeding you, but that was way too much work on top of everything else," Michael laughed.

"Everything else?" Liz inquired.

"Oh you know. The decorating, the shopping, getting dragged to various stores by your best friend—why don't you use all one line of products, anyway?" Max teased.

Liz's eyes glinted with mischief. "Because I demand the best, and I can't always find it all in one place," she murmured, her eyes roaming from Max's groin to Michael's and back up to their eyes. She stifled a giggle at the shock rounding their faces.

"Good thing that we're a package deal then, ain't it?" Michael was the first to recover and Liz grinned at him.

"Absolutely," she agreed. "So…are we all done here? Do you think it's time for my massage?"

Max and Michael exchanged glances and Max nodded. "Seems to be! Which also means it's time to disrobe, my dear," he indicated her plush crimson wrapping with a smile.

Not wanting to lose the upper hand now that she had it, Liz merely nodded and moved over to the couch. She sat down and removed her slippers, laying them on the floor before she stood back up. Oh so slowly, she untied the belt of the robe, allowing the ends to drop when it was undone. Liz shrugged the robe off her shoulders, the movement exposing her breasts as the soft fabric shimmied down her arms. The front of the robe parted, allowing glimpses of the rest of her body, and then Liz let it pool to the floor like a red waterfall, leaving her standing gloriously nude.

"Are you two coming?" she purred, stepping over the puddle of fabric and walking to the bedroom, aware of their eyes on her. She smiled to herself when she heard Michael mutter, "No, but that got me a lot closer!"

By the time they had collected their wits and followed her into the bedroom, Liz was stretched out on Michael's bed, waiting. She figured that if she could keep them off balance enough, they might just give up on the teasing and get down to business. She looked up at Max seductively as he spoke.

"Do you want your front or your back done first?" his voice was husky with desire and the sound thrilled her. So she got to choose, did she? Which one had better odds of breaking their control?

Max could practically hear her thought processes as she pretended to decide. He knew perfectly well what she wanted but he was nowhere near ready to give it to her. And while Michael might not have a lot of self-control, as he'd confessed, he didn't need to have any today. All he needed was for Max to stay in control—and Max was.

"Front," she announced, just as he had thought she would.

"Let's do it," he replied, watching the desire flare in her eyes at his choice of words. Max smirked at her and she wrinkled her nose in return then lay flat on the bed.

Michael handed him the bottle of oil and Max popped it open, pouring some into Michael's hand then into his own before flipping the cap closed. He started with Liz's arms while Michael started with her legs, rubbing the golden oil into her skin. Liz sighed in pleasure.

"Mmm, that feels nice," her voice was slightly drowsy and Max had to smile. She'd be wide-awake soon enough; let her drift off now. He massaged in between her fingers and used his knuckles against her palm then traveled up her arm gradually. Max shifted closer to rub her shoulders and neck on both sides simultaneously, smiling tenderly as her head lolled when he was finished. He moved over to the other side of the bed and repeated the treatment on her other arm, rubbing her neck and shoulders again when he reached them.

Michael performed much the same actions to Liz's legs, massaging her feet, shins and the front of her thighs. He moved up farther, sitting between her legs, and rubbed her hips and the outer sides of her thighs, then moved his hands onto her abdomen and finally around the nest of dark curls at the apex of her legs to her inner thighs, right about the same time that Max began to massage her breasts.

Liz's eyes flew open at the abruptly more intimate caresses but the tenor of their massaging didn't change: it was still slow and soothing even while it aroused her. Her eyes drifted closed again. When Max murmured for her to turn over, she did so without protest, feeling languorous and altogether wonderful.

This time Michael took her upper body and Max her legs. Michael massaged her back thoroughly, finding each small knot and carefully working it out with just enough pressure. Max did the same to her calves and then moved up her thighs. His well-oiled hands slid smoothly along her inner thighs, his fingers probing the muscles right up to the sparse hairline between her legs. Liz still felt drowsy and relaxed but she was also feeling an intense stirring of desire by the proximity of Max's fingers to where she burned to be touched. But his hands molded her skin all around her curls and never once slipped past that barrier.

Finally he stopped tormenting her with such nearly intimate caresses and slid his hands up to the backs of her thighs. Max rubbed the outside of her hips and moved inward, his fingers meeting at the cleft between her buttocks. As Michael had done with the scrub, he gently parted her and oiled the delicate skin, his thumb brushing over her puckered opening.

Liz was unprepared for the desire that shot through her at the simple caress. Involuntarily her hips lifted off the bed a little, her body asking for more. Max's fingers brushed over her again as he rubbed the oil into her skin, apparently making sure that it was all absorbed, and then he moved on to her lower back, his hands meeting Michael's.

Liz was disappointed that he didn't linger, but she didn't think that he'd even noticed the brief flash of need. If he had, would it have surprised him as much as it did her? Liz realized that she had been thinking about Max or Michael touching her there for a while now—since the first time she had watched them make love, and seen the incredible pleasure it brought both of them. But…was it normal, for her to want to try it too? She snorted at the thought; what about this relationship was normal? Liz had had Michael's face practically touching her while Max stroked her to orgasm, and been serially penetrated by both men taking turns…no, wanting to experience something that they experienced was pretty damn normal in comparison to some of what they'd done together!

Her musing faded away as they completed the massage, leaving her feeling warm and loved. Not to mention relaxed and silky smooth and seriously horny. Max and Michael moved away, giving her room to turn over and she did, flopping onto her back bonelessly.

"I feel goooood," she intoned and they all laughed. She sat up as she witnessed the look that the men exchanged.

"What? What's going on?" Liz demanded.

Max took a deep breath. "Liz, we—have one other gift for you, but it—well, it's a little different," he tried to explain as Michael retrieved a gaily wrapped gift box from his closet. He handed it to Max and Max sat back down on the bed beside Liz. Michael stood close by with an expectant expression. Liz looked back and forth between them, sensing something. This, whatever it was, was what they had been building up to; it all rested on the contents of this box.

"Liz, you said once…that you weren't afraid, that you were just going to put yourself in my hands. We didn't get anywhere significant that night," Max scratched behind his ear and Liz laughed, remembering. "But I know that you trusted me, as you've trusted me many times since then, and I'm asking you to place yourself in my hands now."

He seemed so serious that Liz was nervous. Suddenly she became very aware that she was the only naked person in the room and she fought the urge to cover herself. Max saw her hands move involuntarily, just a little, and he stroked her hair soothingly, kissing her temple.

"Open the box, sweetheart, then I'll explain," he said quietly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The silk felt cool against Liz's skin as Max and Michael secured her wrists to the headboard with the new scarves. Her eyes already covered, she could only guess at how shamelessly sensual she looked, bound and blindfolded and waiting. Her breathing sped up as both men moved, the bed shifting under their weight.

"Can you get free?" Michael wanted to know. Experimentally Liz tugged at the silk binding her wrists; she was well and truly tied, completely at their mercy. The thought sent a rush of heat through her.

"No, I'm—I'm secure," she answered breathlessly.

"You know the safe words, right?" Max asked one last time. Liz smiled at his concern.

"Yellow light means I'm uncomfortable with what you're in the middle of doing, red light means stop everything," she recited back to him.

"Good," Max complimented. "Now…spread your legs."

Liz gasped at the sudden commanding tone in his voice and moved her legs apart about a foot. Max made a disapproving sound.

"It wasn't a request," he warned just before hands pulled her legs as far apart as they would go. "Keep them like this. The whole idea is that we have ready access to you at all times, Liz. To your mouth," fingers brushed her parted lips, "and to your breasts," hands closed on her breasts and tugged at her nipples, eliciting a low moan.

"And most definitely to here," Max breathed. Liz could feel his hand hovering over the junction of her widespread legs and she quivered then cried out in shocked pleasure as the fingers of another hand penetrated her, pushing deep.

"No—no fair!" she gasped.

"I'm not interested in playing fair, Liz," Max chuckled. He licked along the valley between her breasts—or maybe it was Michael, she wasn't sure anymore. "All I'm interested in is making every cell in your body vibrate in arousal."

What was she supposed to say to that? "Oh," Liz said faintly. "I'll uh, I'll—let you get on with that, then."

"Good girl," she could hear the smile in his voice but promptly forgot about it when the tip of one stiff nipple was licked then briefly sucked into a warm mouth before just the tip was tongued again.

"That's Michael," Liz's voice sounded strained even to her own ears.

"And how come you're so sure?" Michael asked.

"Because your bangs tickle, Michael. You need a haircut," she giggled.

Max laughed as Michael's expression became mortified. "Michael, got any bandannas here or are they all at the Crashdown?"

Michael flashed him a smile as he went to the dresser and pulled out a bandanna, tying it over his hair. He struck a pose, obviously aware of the bizarreness of wearing merely a bandanna and a pair of boxer shorts. Max laughed at him again and rose from the bed, pulling Michael close for a kiss.

"You look dashing. Shall we?" he gestured towards the kitchen and Michael smiled then left the room silently. Max moved back towards the bed and idly ran his hand up the inside of Liz's leg, detouring around the curls between her thighs and coming down the other leg. He repeated the action in reverse with the same careful detour, smiling when Liz squirmed.

"Does it tickle?" Max inquired mischievously.

"Sort of," Liz hedged.

"But we're not anywhere near the bottom of your feet or the side of your ribcage, Liz," Max said softly, watching her lips part as he brushed his hand back and forth along her inner thighs. He stirred his fingers through her dark curls, smiling at Michael as he returned carrying a few items and placed them on the dresser. Liz's head turned towards the sound.

"Is that what I think it is?" she demanded to know.

"I don't know, what do you think it is?" Michael replied flippantly. He passed one item to Max and kept a different one for himself, raising his eyebrow to ask if that was all right. Max nodded and indicated where Michael should stand. The two men shared a conspiratorial look full of excitement.

"And if it is what you think it is, is that a problem?" Max added silkily.

Liz groaned inwardly. Damn it, he was even using his voice as a weapon! And he knew the effect it was having on her. She knew that he knew it because there was a smug edge to his tone every time he spoke. And Michael was no better! In spite of the fact that he'd apparently gone out of the room and Liz had been so focused on where Max was not touching that she hadn't really noticed. Not that she was about to mention that, of course.

"No problem," she answered firmly.

"Good. Did ya miss me?" Michael was moving as he spoke so Liz couldn't quite pinpoint his location, though she was all too aware that Max remained between her widespread legs. She decided that she could be equally glib sounding.

"Not particularly. Why, should I have?" she asked archly. Liz heard Michael chuckle and then she felt a thin trickle of cold liquid encircling her nipple and slipping down the side of her breast. Her skin tightened instantly from the cold, but it also tingled with life and Liz had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what Michael had poured on her.

"You tell me," he remarked arrogantly.

"Oh my God, please tell me that isn't Tabasco sauce," her feeble protest died in a moan when Michael began lapping at the spilled liquid.

"Can't do that because it is, Liz," Max told her. "You know how much we like pouring it on everything we eat."

"On everyth—oh!" Liz exclaimed as Michael's tongue reached her tight nipple and he sucked fiercely on it for much too short a time. Her back was still arched into his caress when Michael murmured, "It goes absolutely perfectly with your sweet taste."

Michael gave her nipple another brief, hard suckle then his mouth disappeared, leaving Liz wanting more. Her muscles automatically tensed as the cold Tabasco was splashed onto her skin, droplets falling on her breasts, her belly, her hips, even her upper thighs. Knowing that Michael or even Max would be licking it off made desire corkscrew crazily in her stomach and magnified the ache in her core.

"So was that what you thought the sound was, Liz?" Max asked. What was he doing, anyway? He hadn't touched her at all since Michael had returned. Was he watching her respond to Michael? Or maybe he was doing a visual inspection of her. What would he think about what he was seeing? Liz knew her total openness attracted him, but how did he really see her, bared as she was for his pleasure—and her own?

"It's—no, I—thought it was something else," she said haltingly.

"What?" Max persisted. "Maybe…this?"

The frigid surface of what could only be an ice cube slipped inside her parted folds, pressing against her slick feminine opening. The intense cold was a shock and a delight both and Liz moaned wildly. Max manipulated the ice, sliding it up and down then twisting it so that the rounded corner pushed ever so slightly inside her. He applied a tiny bit of pressure, pushing it in a little more.

"Oh God, Max, yes!" Liz called out.

"Yes, you thought it was ice, or yes, this is what you want?" he tormented her.

If she only had a hand free, Liz would have smacked him for that remark. "Both!"

"Ah," was all Max said in reply, but she could hear the self-satisfied smirk in his voice. It stopped annoying her the second he applied more pressure to the ice, gradually inserting most of it and then withdrawing it. He paused for what seemed like an endless moment and Liz whimpered. As if the sound had been a spur, Max abruptly rammed the ice into her, startling a cry from her throat.

He stroked her rhythmically, like he often had with his fingers, at the same time that Michael resumed licking her torso clean of the Tabasco. As the cold began to numb her passage Max withdrew the ice and rubbed it against her clitoris. With Michael's tongue bathing her and the icy caress where she ached most, Liz nearly came on the spot. But the ice numbed her flesh quickly and the wave crested and fell.

"Too cold now, Max," she gasped at the same time that he removed the ice. How had he known? "God, you're good!"

Michael's tongue froze mid-lick and then withdrew as he started laughing. Max joined in and so did Liz, her face flaming.

"I can't believe I said that out loud!" she giggled. "I—don't even know what to say after saying something like that!"

"I do. Thank you," Max laughed. "It's nice to have verbal confirmation of what your body's saying." He tweaked one hardened nipple in demonstration.

Liz stuck her tongue out at him, only to have it sucked into Michael's mouth as he kissed her.

"Don't stick it out unless you're prepared to use it," he warned.

"I could say the same to both of you," Liz challenged.

"What makes you think anything of ours is sticking out?" Max inquired innocently. Liz's mind froze. It wasn't possible that they were totally unaffected by this, was it? She could hear the way they were breathing but that didn't necessarily mean that they were turned on; it could be something else. Now, there was a humiliating thought: what if while she lay open, seething with desire for them, Max and Michael weren't even erect?

Max saw the doubt flit across her face as she bit her lip and he moved to curb it, kneeling over her and settling the solid bulge in his boxers against her wet center. Liz eagerly thrust up into his hardness and he couldn't smother the low moan that rose from his throat. Max took her mouth, his tongue diving in to play with hers for a moment before he pulled back, breathing hard.

"Michael is just as hard, Liz. Michael," Max nodded for him to come closer. Michael crawled over until he was kneeling beside them and Max lifted up, arching his back and concentrating his weight on his pelvis. Liz rocked against him and he let her while he reached out and pulled Michael's cock free of his boxers. Tugging gently, he urged Michael closer, awkward though the positioning was, and finally Max rubbed Michael's stiff cock along Liz's firm nipple and the side of her breast.

"Can you feel what you do to us? Trust me, Liz, we ache as much as you do," he whispered, continuing to rub her breast with Michael's cock as he kissed her deeply again. When he stopped this time, he smiled against her lips so she could feel that, too. "But we're not finished yet."

Max released Michael, who backed off and rearranged himself with a sympathetic glance at Max's groin when Max lifted himself off Liz entirely. The front of Max's shorts were soaking wet and he had a sudden urge to rip them off and plunge inside Liz's waiting body, pounding into her until they climaxed together. He clamped down on the urge, restraining himself as he climbed off the bed and stood for a moment, panting, trying to get back into "character." He'd spoken the truth—they weren't finished yet. Liz was still thinking, still reasoning things out, but by the time she was as aroused as he intended to get her before they made love to her, she would be able only to feel.

"I may die in agony before we're finished," Liz admitted with a smile.

"Agony, eh? Are you in agony, sweetheart? Does this hurt?" Michael asked sweetly before he nibbled on her inner thighs, nipping at the tender skin and moving up to the top of her thighs to lick and bite at the scattered droplets of Tabasco. Max performed much the same action, dragging his tongue and teeth across her abdomen and up her sides.

Or was it Max still between her legs and Michael devouring her chest? Liz had no idea since she had given away her one clue and Michael had confined his hair. But gradually every slightly sticky, cold spot of sauce was washed from her body except for her breasts; they remained untouched. Liz's nipples were erect nonetheless and it was beginning to be imperative that they be caressed or sucked or… anything! her mind added unbidden.

"Max, please," she pleaded.

"Please what?" he replied nonchalantly.

"Touch me!"

"We are touching you, Liz," Michael drawled, and they were, just not where she needed to be touched.

"Wrong places," Liz declared passionately.

"And what would the right places be?" Max inquired, his hand drawing a figure eight around her proffered breasts.

"In—in a little more," she instructed. Max obligingly ran his hand along her cleavage and Liz wanted to scream in frustration. He was doing it on purpose!

"That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"You're going to have to be more specific, Liz. I'm not telepathic," Max said.

"You could always say, "Max, please suck on my hard nipples,"" Michael suggested.

"I can't say that!"

"You can spontaneously say that I'm good at pleasing you but you can't name your own body parts?" Max teased.

Liz gritted her teeth. They both knew how much it had turned her on to have Michael talk her through masturbating, and they were obviously determined to use it against her now. Fine; she would ask.

"Max, I—would you, um, would—please, could you," she stumbled through the request, her mouth refusing to cooperate and form the words. She mustered up her nerve and whispered, "Please touch my nipples."

His tongue wetly circled her areola then his mouth came down on her breast to pull hard at her nipple. Almost simultaneously, Michael drew her other breast into his mouth, sucking equally hard. Someone's hand danced across her abdomen and upper thighs, dipping down to stroke the soft inner surface of her legs and floating back up and around, never touching her more intimately. The gentle caress served to further ignite the flames that rose inside Liz, fueled by the twin suckling. Each breast was carefully licked clean, Max and Michael taking turns on which one of them was savoring the Tabasco droplets and which was concentrating on the firm pink tip of his breast. And all the while, whomever's hand continued the nonspecific dance across her skin. Liz thought she might go insane as Tabasco gone, both men pulled hard on her nipples, tugging with lips and tongue and teeth. Her voice was hoarse now from moaning but she still made a throaty whimper of loss when the two men withdrew their warm mouths, leaving her breasts feeling a little cold.

A hand brushed her cheek along the scarf's edge and Max asked, "Would you like some water? We brought some in for you—with a straw, of course."

Of course, so she wouldn't need to sit up or be untied or anything, Liz snorted mentally. Aloud, she answered, "Yes, please. That would be nice."

Liz heard the same clinking sound she had before and abruptly there were fingers on her lips, guiding a straw in. Aware of her thirst now that it had been mentioned, she gulped down the water until the straw made a hollow sound, signifying that the glass was empty. She pushed the straw from her mouth with her tongue and smiled.

"Was that enough? Do you want more?" Michael asked.

"No, that was perfect. I, uh—Max, there is something else that I want, though," Liz replied. Drinking the water had reminded her of something that she wanted to do.

"Mmm-hmm, what's that?" Max asked softly, with a smile in his voice.

"I want—I want to—participate," Liz requested.

"You don't feel like you're participating?" he asked slyly, dragging a finger through the wetness between her legs.

"Ha ha! I meant—more actively," she explained haltingly.

"That's a little difficult without untying you," Michael chuckled.

Liz smiled. "No, not—not really. I could—I know you guys didn't think much of it, but—I didn't get to try and I want to. There's—there should be enough room for someone's knees, up here."

Max looked at Michael, seeing that he was equally surprised. Michael clarified, "You want to suck cock while we keep enjoying your body, is that it?"

"What is with the—language you two are—using today? Would you—stop it already?" her voice lacked conviction.

"Not as long as every naughty word makes your nipples perk up," Max told her softly, watching the skin tighten even further as he touched an ice cube to the hard pink tip of one breast. Liz moaned as a rivulet of icy water ran down the side of her breast and a warm tongue licked it off; she still wanted more.

Max handed the ice cube to Michael, who continued to swirl it against Liz's stiff nipples and lick the resulting melted water from her heated skin while Max moved up near her head. He extended his index finger, lightly tracing her lips and smiling when Liz sucked his fingertip into her mouth.

"Let's see if I have this straight," Max murmured. "You want someone's cock in your mouth, just like this," he thrust his finger farther between her lips, feeling the vibrations as Liz moaned. "And at the same time, you want someone else," he nodded at Michael, his eyes flickering meaningfully. Michael readied himself to follow the unspoken command. Smiling, Max repeated, "At the same time, you want someone else, to do the opposite to you." He jerked his head and Michael plunged his fingers into Liz.

She arched up, her lips parting around Max's finger as she cried out. He withdrew it as Michael withdrew his then Max wetly traced her lips again.

"All you had to do was ask," he whispered against her mouth before he kissed her, slipping his tongue into her open mouth. Max gave a start of surprise when Liz sucked on his tongue, greedily drawing it even further into her mouth. It was a peculiar sensation and after a moment he carefully pulled back.

"I can see that you're serious," Max commented, amused. "You don't want to overtax that particular muscle, though. I might need it later," he licked her bottom lip to illustrate his point, smiling faintly when she whimpered. "Just give us a sec, OK? I didn't plan for this."

"It's—nice to know I can still surprise you, even—even in this position," Liz laughed.

"What, deliciously open and vulnerable to anything we take a fancy to do to you?" Max asked innocently, brushing his hand down her side and across her taut abdomen.

"Max!" she gasped.

"Liz, seeing you like this—doing this—it's like every fantasy and every wet dream I've ever had, magnified by a thousand. You are—the sexiest, most incredibly beautiful woman I have ever seen or ever will see," his voice was low and intense. "Every sound you make, every time you arch your back or your thighs tense in anticipation—it's like a gift, to be allowed to touch you, to evoke such an utterly sincere response from you. If I—if Michael and I can bring you this kind of pleasure, it's only because we love you, so much that it hurts sometimes."

He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, and it was followed by another kiss from a different mouth, no less tender than the first.

"He might be a control freak but occasionally he's got one hell of a way with words," Michael told her huskily. "I feel the same way." Gently he brushed her cheek then moved to the corner of the room where Max stood.

Liz fought back tears at the same time that she smiled at the total incongruity of her emotions. And yet each touch from both men, during the entire day, had made her feel that way, too. Bound as she was, she could so easily have felt used or humiliated by the ruthless way they used their knowledge of her body or by their playful comments, but she didn't. Liz shied away from the concept of worship but it aptly described how she felt about what Max and Michael were doing: as if they were worshipping her, and not just her body but her—Liz. All of her.

She could hear whispering coming from one corner of the room and she knew that Max was deciding what he wanted to do. Liz was reasonably sure how he would arrange the positioning, but other than that she still had no idea what he would do next. Max had teased her many times before, even asked her to leave her arms above her head or to keep her eyes closed, as she and Michael had kidded him about. But being literally unable to move her arms or open her eyes added a whole new dimension to the experience that excited Liz tremendously. Again there was the vague sense that she should feel ashamed by how much it turned her on to be under someone else's control, but that wasn't how she felt at all. It was liberating for Liz to not be the one in charge, to not need to do anything except take whatever Max and Michael gave her and ask for more. And as Max had said, everything was done in love. That made all the difference in the world—any world.

Liz's ruminations abruptly halted as someone's weight settled onto the bed. She had a moment’s hesitation as she felt what she assumed were Michael’s legs skim up her sides and stop on either side of her upraised shoulders. Liz conceived a mental image of Michael kneeling over her and she remembered that she hadn’t done this with him yet. Spurred on by that thought, she opened her mouth.

“One of us is ready,” Max’s amused voice came from above her and Liz concealed her astonishment that it wasn’t Michael. His fingers drifted over her lips again then formed a circle and guided his cock into her open mouth. Liz sucked on the tip and drew back with a triumphant smile.

“Michael,” she announced.

“How’d you know?” Michael asked.

“You don’t taste like Max,” she told him. Although he did have the same smoky, spicy quality that Liz privately attributed to the consumption of too much Tabasco sauce. Straight up, Tabasco was not something she liked. This way was just fine.

She was about to suck Michael’s cock back into her mouth when Max spoke close to her ear.

“Obviously this makes using the safe words impossible so if I do something that you don't like, close your legs and keep them closed. If Michael does something you don't like, bite him—that's what I threatened to do, and he was very good about it so just relax," he laughed. Liz smiled when Michael laughed, too, then shivered as Max licked her ear lobe below the scarf blindfolding her. She could feel his lips against the silk as he whispered to her alone.

"Don't worry, Liz, I'll know the difference between you closing your legs voluntarily because it's the safe gesture, and involuntarily because you're mid-orgasm. And since I suspect that the reason you wanted to do this was because you want to be distracted from the intensity of your responses, I'm going to up the stakes a little: you don't get to come until Michael does."

"You're not serious!" Liz gasped.

"I'm extremely serious. I can keep you on the edge for—hours, if I have to. I can also change my mind. I'm letting you participate because it suits my purposes, and because I'd like to see Michael's cock in your mouth. Granting your request doesn't change the fact that your body is dancing to my tune," Max whispered then plucked at her nipple to show her how serious he was.

"Granting my…Max, you asshole!" she exclaimed through the moan her traitorous body demanded she voice.

Max laughed. "I never thought that hearing you say that would turn me on, but it does. It definitely does," he turned her head towards him and captured her lips in a deep kiss. Gradually he moved her head back, keeping with her, and then Liz felt his mouth push Michael's cock at her and this time she did suck it in, her lips sliding up the thick shaft and back down, establishing a slow rhythm that elicited a deep groan from Michael.

Michael tore his gaze away from what Liz was doing to look at Max as he rose to his knees beside Michael. It was exceedingly difficult; she didn't suck as hard as Max but she did this swirling thing with her tongue that was maddeningly arousing, almost as arousing as watching her face while she sucked—what he could see of it, anyway.

"What's going on? What did you say to her?" he asked quietly. Max had a wicked glitter in his eyes that further weakened Michael's knees, especially combined with his slow smile.

"Nothing you need to worry about. How's your stamina?" he asked in a normal volume, lazily caressing Michael's nipple.

"It'd be better if you kept your hands to yourself," Michael retorted and Max pinched hard, making him gasp.

"Just last as long as you possibly can," Max ordered. At Michael's astounded look he grinned and bent to lick the abused nipple before backing away, off the bed.

Max settled his body in between Liz's legs. There was little point in pretending that his goal was elsewhere, not when things had progressed this far. He knew he could still keep her off-balance and guessing, however, and he started immediately by scattering nibbling kisses along her inner thighs and across her lower abdomen. He stopped at a point a little above where her leg joined her pelvis, about where the edge of a bikini would fall, and sucked that patch of skin into his mouth, pulling hard and biting until it shone a deep red.

Bet it doesn't look like a heart, Liz thought crazily, remembering that she had told Max that's where she would get a tattoo—if she ever got one. Her skin felt hot and stung where he bit her, but the minor pain only seemed to focus the ache in her center. She forced herself to pay closer attention to what she was doing, understanding all too well now why Max and Michael had said this was distracting. But Max had been right: she'd wanted the distraction. Liz needed a tiny respite from the overwhelming flood of sensation before she went mad from sensory overload. Concentrating now, she twirled her tongue around the tip of Michael's cock before sucking it all into her mouth, relaxing her throat as he slid deep.

Oh, God. Michael held onto the top bar of the headboard as Liz deep-throated him, his eyes closed tightly. She was making it nearly impossible to follow Max's orders and last; "as long as he could" was rapidly becoming "not much longer." Michael glanced down as Liz's steady rhythm stuttered and her lips parted a little, losing a lot of her suction. Admittedly it was difficult to pinpoint her expression with her face partially covered by the scarf and her lips wrapped around his cock, but Michael thought she seemed kind of shocked.

"What'd you do, Max?" he asked, his voice husky.

"It's all right, Michael. Liz knows how to say no," came the authoritative reply. Which implied that there was something that she might want to say no to, but Michael couldn't think of anything offhand that would have shocked her. Of course, thinking wasn't exactly his forte at this precise moment.

Beneath the blindfold Liz's eyes closed again after having flown open in shock. She took a deep breath, abandoning her newfound resolve to pay more attention to Michael for a moment while she contemplated what Max was asking of her. In spite of the fact that it had only ever been on her hands before, Liz had immediately recognized the cool, slippery sensation of the lubricant when Max slid his slick fingers down past her aching center and rubbed it onto her skin. The second she had tensed and closed her legs a little, he had stopped all motion—but he hadn't removed his hand. She realized that he must have noticed her flash of interest earlier after all and decided to act on it, but he was waiting for her to make up her mind.

The longer she considered, the more aware Liz became of where Max's hand was, and of the proximity of his fingers to forbidden territory. She began to crave his touch there, too, and the ache grew in intensity as time passed. Was this how Max and Michael felt when they wanted to make love to each other, this need that was at once the same and different than how she needed them? Max knew every other inch of her body—how was this distinct from the rest of her?

Liz's mind wandered to the way Max had pleaded with Michael to fuck him, and the way he had looked when Michael had, at last, responded, and she knew that her first instinct had been the right one: she wanted to try this. If she didn't like it, fine—she knew that Max was paying extra close attention, which in and of itself took her breath away. Conscious of the rustling of the duvet underneath her as she moved, Liz spread her legs all the way open in invitation.

"I knew your scientific curiosity wouldn't let you say no," Max groaned, pressing kisses to her taut belly. Until she had pushed against him during the massage, he had never considered that Liz might want to know what it was like for he and Michael. Once the idea had been planted, however, he'd definitely wanted to try it. For all that he was the one nominally in control today, Max was guided by Liz's needs and desires—as always. It was impossible not to be intrigued by sharing this with her. "I'll be careful, I swear."

Liz pulled her head back, kissing the tip of Michael's cock in apology as it slid out of her mouth.

"I know you will. I don't know how I could possibly demonstrate any further that I trust you, Max!" she laughed. "And you, Michael. I've been—wide open to both of you for—good God for I don't even know how long, never mind everything we've shared before today. There isn't anywhere else that you haven't touched, and…and there isn't anywhere you have touched that didn't feel amazing. I'm ready," she said softly.

"I love you, Liz, but I haven't got a clue what you're talking about," Michael admitted.

"That's OK, Michael, you don't need to right now. All you need to do is slide your cock back down my throat," Liz licked her lips in invitation.

Michael didn't need to be asked twice. He gently used his fingers to guide himself into her mouth, replacing his hands on the headboard when Liz immediately sucked him deep. The short break had afforded him some breathing room and he felt as though he could last a while now. Although that could change any minute, he thought ruefully as Liz began to swirl her tongue around the head of his cock on every upstroke.

Liz focused on the taste and feel of Michael as she waited for Max to act. Her nerves were strung impossibly taut and she thought, This is what he meant when he said he wanted me vibrating with arousal. Even more impossible was that they were not even close to completion; she knew that this incredible tension would only increase as Max finally explored all her secret places, places that had gone mostly untouched today, right up until this moment. What would happen then, Liz had no idea but she was certain that it wouldn't be quiet: she already felt like screaming.

She almost didn't feel his first touch, it was so tentative. A single finger stroked her skin delicately in a small circle, tracing the outline of her puckered opening but not venturing closer. Liz wanted to smile; apparently Max was more nervous about this than she was! She ignored that urge and kept sliding her lips along Michael's cock. The feathery caress continued, sensitizing her skin and her hips started to rock a little, trying to get closer. Suddenly Max inserted just his fingertip, pressing inside slowly and Liz moaned.

"Oh, God, Liz, don't do that," Michael gasped. "The vibrations shoot right through me!"

In answer she unsheathed her teeth, dragging them lightly across his flesh to let him know that moaning wasn't something she could control. To her delighted surprise, the ungentle caress forced a deep, primal groan from Michael.

"Liz," he choked out as one hand slid into her hair. Michael didn't push her, merely held onto the long strands while she sucked and stroked his cock with her teeth.

"Max, I—can't, can't," he ground out, his body begging for release. It felt so dangerous, her teeth scraping and her lips sliding up and down his shaft, and it was more than Michael could stand, especially as Liz moaned again.

Max's fingertip pumped a steady rhythm now, following the one Liz set with her sucking. The sensation was exquisite all on its own but as Michael cried out Liz did, too, because Max's other hand began to stroke her folds, circling her feminine opening and at last his finger pushed inside.

"Let go, Michael. Fuck her mouth until you come down her throat," Max's explicit instructions floated to Liz's ears and she sucked harder, pulling on Michael's cock with as much force as she could generate. She could feel his legs trembling against the inside of her arms, raised over her head, and had she been able to think about what she was doing Liz would have been amazed at the pace that she set. But all she was doing was echoing the pounding rhythm of Max's finger, thrusting inside her, and now his back hand slid deeper, it wasn't just the tip of his finger anymore and Liz's resulting moan swept through hers and Michael's bodies both.

With a near scream Michael exploded into her mouth, liquid racing down her throat. Liz sucked more gently now but with the same relentless rhythm, unable to
separate it from what Max was doing to her. When Michael had nothing left to give he
withdrew slowly, and only once his cock was no longer in her mouth did Liz stop sucking. She registered his voice speaking to her but as Max slipped another finger inside her she arched and cried out, not capable of comprehending Michael's words right now. Liz drew her legs up, using her feet as extra leverage to thrust her hips up at Max.

Michael realized that she was in another place, one created and controlled by Max Evans. He moved away from the head of the bed and looked over at Max, noting his pumping hands. Wait— hands, plural. Is he really… the thought died as Max glanced up and met Michael's gaze. Max's eyes were truly gold now, almost glowing and Michael remembered comparing them to those of a hunting cat before. He shivered in renewed desire, thinking, Max is definitely the predator today.

"Come here," Max ordered. Caught up in his feral look and the general atmosphere of the day, Michael complied, crawling down to kneel by Liz's bucking hips. Carefully he leaned in and Max kissed him savagely, his tongue probing the recesses of Michael's mouth and his lips clinging to Michael's. Desire crashed through him at the undisguised hunger in Max's kiss and his cock sprang to instant life, disdainful of the fact that it had just been treated to the world's best blowjob. It wanted more.

Max broke the kiss and whispered, "It wasn't my idea, it was hers. During the massage—I could feel her wanting to try it then, and once I realized…"

Michael couldn't help but smile. "What you said, about her curiosity."

"Yeah," Max nodded, his lips stretching in a wicked smile. "Be a good boy, Michael, and go play with Liz's breasts."

"Excuse me?" Michael exclaimed, startled.

"You heard me," Max growled, recapturing Michael's lips and kissing him hard, almost painfully so. He bit Michael's lower lip and qualified his previous command, "Be gentle until I tell you, "Now." It might not be too intelligible but you should be able to figure it out." Max's eyes danced with mischief and Michael swallowed in disbelief.

"You mean you're going to—all at the same time?"

"Yes, I am. Why, was there something you wanted to say about it?" he challenged, his expression at once amused and dangerous.

"Only that for the first time in my life, I wish I was your girlfriend," Michael answered honestly, to be rewarded with another biting kiss. When Max's lips let his go he moved back up the bed, reaching for Liz's small, perfect breasts with a light hand.

Oh, fuck! Liz felt the barest caresses on her tender breasts and it combined with the twin sensations Max was creating to force a low scream from her throat. Every inch of her was on fire but there was one place that had not been touched and it was the place where she ached with need the most. She needed to be touched there, desperately.

"Max! Oh, Max, I—need you to—need you," Liz panted.

"Need me to what, Liz?" his voice was like rough velvet and Liz let loose with a string of expletives she hadn't even been aware that she knew.

"Swearing at me isn't going to get you what you want, Liz," Max chuckled. "You know what you have to do."

"Aaahhhhh!" Liz cried in mingled desire and frustration.

"Remember that little conversation we had, Liz, about the various names for certain activities? Max said something to you then about what he might say instead, which is how you want him to touch you now. Remember? Say those words to him, Liz. Ask for what you want," Michael whispered close to her ear, his hands never stopping their slow motion on her breasts. Liz dredged her memory frantically but had no idea of what he was talking about; she couldn't focus long enough to remember.

"I can't—I don't know, Michael!" her voice broke as she wailed.

"Let me help you, Liz; let me remind you," Michael's voice was soothing and she quieted, listening.

"Max said that next time, he would tell you that he was going to lick your clitoris."

"Yes!" Liz hissed. That was exactly what she wanted!

"But you have to tell Max that, Liz. He wants you to tell him that you want him to lick your clitoris," Michael spoke in the same soothing tone but the words were obviously exciting him as well; his breath came in pants against her face and neck. From some unknown region within herself, Liz summoned up a vestige of coherent thought and laid out her demand to Max.

"Max Evans. I want your hands exactly where they are, doing exactly what they're already doing but I want more. More fingers; harder thrusts. And I want your face pressed between my legs with your mouth on me, your tongue bathing me everywhere but most especially my clitoris. I want it all, Max, and I want it NOW."

Max and Michael exchanged a look of astonishment that was nonetheless highly charged. Michael could practically feel the desire radiating off of Max as he pressed a light kiss to Liz's abdomen and whispered, "Done."

It seemed to be the moment that Max had been waiting for because suddenly his mouth was everywhere, licking and sucking every bit of neglected, needy flesh. Liz's tension, already unbearable, spiraled higher and it crossed her mind that she might fly apart into her component molecules at any second. It was the last moment that she was capable of thought.

Stimulated past the breaking point, Liz's release didn't merely wash over her; it screamed through every nerve ending in her body. There was a blinding flash of light behind her closed eyes while her hips bucked frantically, her entire weight resting on her solidly planted feet and her delicate shoulders as Liz thrust her body up off the bed.

She never even heard the shriek that burst from her throat, though it resonated through Max and Michael. Max had abandoned his dual stroking, bracing himself with his hands and just barely keeping up with Liz's writhing body. Michael had removed his hands from her breasts when Max didn't even bother saying, "Now," and he watched in awe as Max coaxed Liz up and over the edge again and again, their rhythm speeding and slowing, speeding and slowing while she continued to cry out loudly.

At last her frantic motion quieted, though she was still moaning incoherently. Michael thought he caught Max's name and then his own floated to his ears too. His groin and his throat both tightened at the husky sound.

Liz slowly lowered her body to the bed, Max following her down. Her legs trembled as he licked her softly and finally withdrew. He did lean in for one last lick and Liz's legs twitched violently.

"Max!" she laughed throatily.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to her abdomen and sitting up.

"Ooooh," Liz heaved a long, drawn out sigh.

"I gotta ask. Did that actually feel as good as it looked like it did? Or sounded?" Michael added with a smile.

"Better," Liz heaved another sigh. She smiled then started to giggle. "Happy Birthday to me!"

Both men laughed with her and Michael looked expectantly at Max.

"So, what now?" he grinned.

"If it doesn’t involve Max, Michael, and the phrase "Fuck me now," I'm not interested," Liz informed them to more laughter.

"Not quite," Max smiled as he moved to sit at the head of the bed. He reached for her closer wrist, loosening the silk and freeing her.

"One crimson scarf, to go with your new robe and slippers," he laid it across the headboard rail and reached for her other wrist, untying it as well.

"One black and gray, to go with Michael's new bedroom," Max glanced at Michael as he spoke and there was a flash of something that Michael didn't quite understand in his eyes. Michael's gaze sharpened and Max's slid away as he gently undid the scarf binding Liz's eyes. He pulled it free, careful not to take any of her hair with it, and smiled at Liz blinking up at him.

"And one amber and chocolate, for the eyes that could see," Liz completed the scarf description. They had been plain white scarves, arranged beautifully in the gift box, and Max had told her to choose what colors she wanted him to turn them into.

"Right," Max's smile deepened. "Michael, come here, please, and lie down beside Liz."

Confused, Michael did as Max had asked and stretched out beside Liz. Her small hand closed briefly over his stiff erection.

"Did I imagine that you had an orgasm too?" she inquired, grinning. "'Cause I could've sworn that you came in my mouth, but then again, I'd swear that the earth moved too and I don't think the seismology reports would bear that hypothesis out!"

"No, you didn't imagine it, and I know I didn't imagine it because nothing I've ever imagined has felt that damn good!" he laughed.

"Really," Liz purred. "In that case, I'm sure we can work out some arrangement to try it again sometime. With slightly different positioning though," she winked.

"I look forward to it," Michael waggled his eyebrows suggestively and she laughed as she turned towards Max.

"Max, I—was it how you'd anticipated it would be?" Liz asked, feeling a little vulnerable now that her mind had returned to her body. She was reassured completely by his brilliant smile.

"I'm with Michael, Liz, it was—so much more than I could ever have imagined," he declared with an intensity in his voice. Liz closed her eyes as he bent down to kiss her, the spicy taste of his tongue as it penetrated her lips renewing her need for another, deeper kind of penetration. Max lingered over the kiss, exploring her mouth and lips thoroughly before he drew back, breathing hard. He flashed another brilliant smile before he leaned over her and pulled Michael into an equally passionate kiss.

Max slid his tongue along Michael's and Michael could taste the Tabasco that he had licked off Liz's body mingled with her sweet fluids. There was a fierce quality to Max's kiss that left him wondering what was going on in his head. Eventually Max broke the kiss and sat up, looking down at Liz again. He cupped her face, stroking her cheek tenderly as he murmured, "I love you. Never forget it."

Speechless, Liz could only nod in agreement and watch as Max made a similar declaration to Michael. The he pressed his lips to her forehead and stood, moving to the end of the bed, and suddenly Liz understood.

"Yellow light, Max," she protested softly. Michael looked at her sharply then back at Max, comprehension dawning on his face. Max returned to where he had been sitting, cupping Liz's face again.

"Don't you want Michael?" he asked softly.

Liz moved restlessly under his steady amber gaze. "Aside from the fact that right now, every nerve ending in my body is screaming for him you mean? Of course I do, but Max," she trailed off as he placed a finger against her lips.

"You just said it, Liz. Screaming for him. Not for someone to make love to you; not for me. For Michael," Max stated, a wealth of emotion in his eyes. "You need him, and he needs you. And I—I need this to happen, too."

Liz stared up at him, sensing his utter sincerity. She turned her face into his hand, kissing his palm, and nodded. A smile ghosted across his lips and he kissed her, so gently that she could hardly feel his mouth on hers. Then he stood back up and walked towards the door.

"Maxwell…what about you?" Michael wanted to know. Max turned back slightly, glancing down at the erection straining against his boxers and flashing a startling grin.

"I do know how to take care of myself, Michael," he said dryly and left the room, closing the door behind him. The sudden silence was deafening.

"This wasn't part of the plan either, was it?" Liz asked, turning on her side to face Michael.

"If it was, I sure didn't know about it," Michael replied, unable to keep his gaze from roaming down her nude body. God, she was beautiful! Hesitantly he asked, "Did you—really mean what you said? About your nerves?"

Liz smiled and reached out to brush his cheek. "Yes, I meant it. I love you, Michael, and I—God, I need you, but…"

"I know. Is he ready?" Michael nodded in agreement and understanding. They both looked towards the closed door as the soft strains of music filtered in and Michael smiled broadly.

"What?" Liz asked, confused.

"It's—this song. It was playing when we—when I—the first time I made love to Max," he told her. "It was the first time I said the words "I love you" to him, too."

"So he is ready, at least for this one time. We still need to be careful and go slow after though," she smiled at his nodding head.

"Absolutely. But right this second, Liz, you're all mine," Michael said huskily. They stared at each other for a long moment, drinking in the sight of freedom, and then simply, silently, Liz opened her limbs in invitation.

Michael groaned as he rolled on top of her, his mouth seeking hers with a desperate passion. And yet as he pushed inside her body his motion was slow and careful, in stark contrast to the desire raging through them both.

Liz cried out and arched up into him. "Ah, Michael, don't be gentle please! Take me like you did Max, the night we made him ours. Own me."

Michael gazed into her night-dark eyes, reading her need and her love there and a wave of possessive hunger flooded through him. He crushed his mouth to hers, drinking greedily from her lips and he answered her demand by driving into her again and again, pressing her small body into the mattress with each hard thrust. Liz tore her mouth away to gulp in air and voice a loud moan. Her fingernails scraped and scratched across Michael's back, settling finally on his buttocks and digging in, urging him on. Michael flashed on the memory of seeing ten crescent-shaped marks imprinted on Max's buttocks after he and Liz had first made love, and the remembered sight shot pure lust through him. His rhythm increased exponentially until he was pounding into Liz at a frenetic pace and it flitted across his mind that it might be too hard for her small frame.

He might have held on to that thought longer if Liz had not been meeting his every thrust, lifting her hips and wrapping her legs around him to force him ever deeper. And her sounds! God, the sweet sighs and urgent moans alone were almost enough to send him over the edge. Michael muttered to her under his breath, soft words of love that he wasn't prompting and didn't even have to think about; they spilled naturally from his lips, from his heart as he made love to Liz Parker.

Max paused in the doorway, Liz's clothes folded over his arm. He ached at the sight of them together, so beautiful and wild. Free, he thought. Free to love each other completely…to love each other the way they both love me. It wasn't an unhappy thought by any means, and Max smiled as he laid the clothes over the back of the small chair, retrieving his own clothing from the pile on the floor. He cast one last look at the ecstatic lovers on the bed before backing out and closing the door again.

Liz threw her head back, calling Michael's name over and over as she climaxed, and the incredible pride of that sound coupled with the feel of her tight, silken walls contracting around him took Michael with her. Their rhythm slowed to a gentle rock as they came back down to earth and Michael's lips returned to hers, his kisses loving and delicate now.

"I love you," he declared, scattering tiny kisses across her face and her smiling mouth.

"I love you," Liz responded, tightening her arms and legs around him. "And I loved that!"

Michael looked at her, startled, then saw the smile playing around her lips. He grinned. "So did I, my sweet, so did I." He kissed her again before reluctantly adding, "But I think we need to get dressed now. There isn't really enough time left for you to shower, so I'll just,"

"What? Are you serious? What time is it?" Liz gasped in shock. Michael lifted up a little to look at his alarm clock.

"Twelve minutes past five," he said smugly, watching her eyes widen further.

"Maria's going to be here in like twenty minutes!" she exclaimed.

"I know. Hold on, Liz; don't panic. I can make sure you're all clean and everything in a matter of a couple of minutes, remember?" he wiggled his fingers at her and Liz laughed.

"I'd forgotten about that very handy ability. Thank you, Michael," she murmured and kissed him unhurriedly.

"If you keep that up I'll follow and you won't get out of here on time," he warned. She laughed and kissed his cheek.

"In that case, we had better get up. Since she's picking me up to go to dinner with my parents, I can't afford to be late!"

Regretfully Michael pulled out of her and laid beside her, running his hand slowly over her body to cleanse and dry her skin. When he finished, he motioned for her to stand and Liz slowly sat up and rose to her feet. She turned to him with a smile of triumph.

"Woohoo, I can in fact stand! I'll bet I can even walk," she laughed and Michael laughed with her as he moved to her side. She closed her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair, eliminating the tangles and making it smooth and flat.

"Mmm, that feels lovely," she purred. Michael lifted her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck then let it fall, watching it swing with a healthy bounce. He turned to separate his clothes from Max's in the pile on the floor and froze upon realizing that Max's were gone, and Liz's were now in residence on the chair.

"Uh, Liz, I think Max—I think he saw us," Michael said quietly.

"What? Oh," Liz caught sight of her clothes. "Oh. He—actually, that doesn't really surprise me," she said thoughtfully.

"It doesn't?" Michael asked, confused. He sat on the bed to pull on his shorts and jeans while Liz began to dress as well.

"Well, no. I think we're all three of us a little voyeuristic, Michael. You watched Max and I before I even knew that you guys were in love, and I—I don't even know how long I stood at his window, fascinated by the two of you, before you realized I was there. Max probably couldn't resist peeking—the clothes were just an excuse," she smiled.

"You—like, seeing Max and I together?" he asked, a little hesitantly. He was reassured by Liz's saucy wink.

"Are you kidding? All that raw passion! You're both—Max especially, but you, too—you're more careful with me. Usually," she amended, glancing at his bed meaningfully. "I know you both feel it with me too, but when you're together and there are no holds barred…it's like a force of nature, Michael, and I can't tear my eyes away."

"Oh," he responded, not sure there was anything he could say to that.

Liz laughed. "Come here, my not so gentle lover."

Michael came over to her and she pulled him into her arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Would she ever feel anything but completely right there? "It's just—you're so tiny, Liz, it's easy to think of you as being fragile even though I know damn well you're not."

"That had better not be a dig about my breast size," came the muffled response. Michael replayed what he'd said, thoroughly confused as to where she'd gotten that idea. "What? No! I love your breasts, they're perfect! You'd look silly with big breasts, they wouldn't suit your body at all," he blurted out. Liz started to shake against him and he panicked—was she crying? Had he totally flubbed that one?

Liz lifted her face so that Michael could see she was laughing and put one hand up to stroke his jaw. "I love how honest you are, Michael. You tell it like it is, without holding anything back. Never change that," she said passionately. Michael was flabbergasted: she appreciated the way stuff just flew out of his mouth of its own accord, with no instructions whatsoever from his brain?

"I, uh, I—OK," he agreed finally. He had a feeling that was one promise it would not be difficult to keep. Michael glanced over at the clock and stroked Liz's hair before letting go of her. "We'd better go out so you can say goodbye to Max and go meet Maria. I'll fold your scarves back into the box."

"Thank you, Michael," she kissed his cheek and turned to open the door.

Max looked up as Liz entered the living room, her hair and clothes in perfect order. There were no marks on her wrists, or anywhere else for that matter. She must have noticed that he was checking because she smiled mischievously.

"I do still have one very nice hickey where no one else will ever see it," she informed him.

"Good," Max smiled, rising from the couch. "Liz, I—you were—stunning. Utterly and completely stunning. And not just before, but…"

"I know you came in, Max. It's all right," her dark eyes glowed up at him with an amazing joy in them. He cupped her face, needing to touch her.

"Do I—have I—that hard?" he asked wonderingly and she laughed, turning her face momentarily to kiss his hand.

"Yes, you have, and as I just finished explaining to Michael I like it. Very much," she emphasized, making him grin.

"Well as long as you're sure, who are we to argue?" he teased lightly.

Liz smiled then looked at him seriously. "Max, I understand. What this meant to you; how—ambivalent you were. Are," she corrected herself. "It means—so much, that you could do this; that you were ready. Michael and I—we did need this, so badly, and it was—amazing, but it didn't exclude you. It never does—it's not possible, Max. The three of us are inextricably linked now and even when one of us isn't there…they are there, you know, in the hearts and souls of the other two. I love you, Max, and nothing, nothing will ever change that."

The same message was in her eyes, clear and focused and full of an overwhelming tenderness that spoke of her understanding, and her love. Max crushed her to him, one hand running through her hair as he kissed the top of her head. "You do. You always know, Liz; it's one of the infinite reasons why I love you so much," he whispered. He gave her one last squeeze and released her. Liz's eyes were shimmering with moisture.

"Oh, Lizzie, don't cry," Max entreated. She smiled, shaking her head.

"Happy tears, Max. The good kind—remember?"

And he did remember, a long ago conversation it seemed now. Happy tears and sad, good laughter and bad, the merits of hysterics and how there was never a wrong time for a hug. "Yes, I remember. You'd better go put your makeup back on, Maria's due any minute now," he said softly.

Liz nodded, her eyes still shining alongside her smile. She looked back at him before disappearing into the bathroom. "You've never called me Lizzie before. Maria and Alex and my parents have called me that for years, but not you, not before today."

"Not out loud," Max admitted. "I—it suits you."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Michael calls me sweetheart, and it kind of fits with him but it sounds strange when you say it. It sounds strange when you call me anything but my name," she smiled. Max laughed; he felt much the same way.

"But I like Lizzie, coming from you, Max. It sounds…special," she said shyly.

"It is," he agreed and her smile widened then she closed the bathroom door.

Michael emerged from the bedroom just as Liz disappeared and he put the box down on top of the box holding the robe and slippers, on the kitchen counter. He gestured at the bathroom.

"Makeup?" he asked and Max nodded. He met Michael's eyes a little guardedly.

"Nice music selection, Maxwell," Michael smiled.

"I thought so," Max concurred. He added with a slight smile, "Nice rhythm."

Michael's eyebrows raised in surprise when he understood that Max wasn't talking about the music any more than he had been, then he grinned. "Oh, yeah!" He was about to say something else when Liz came out of the bathroom, carrying her makeup case. Both men searched her face.

"I can't see any difference," Michael sounded aggrieved.

"Me, neither. Except—the lipgloss. I have a serious weakness where your lipgloss is concerned, Liz," Max confessed huskily, staring at her gleaming lips.

"Especially the fruity ones," Michael chimed in and Liz laughed.

"Duly noted. Come here, both of you; I want hugs. No, make that a hug," she opened her arms. Max and Michael both made their way to where she was standing and she put one arm around each man as they sandwiched her sideways between them. Abruptly they heard three staccato blasts of a car horn.

"And that's my cue to leave!" Liz hugged them tight and let go, picking up the boxes and checking to see that she had everything. "Wish me luck and…thank you, both of you, for an unforgettable eighteenth birthday."

Her eyes swept over both of them in sincere warmth and they smiled at her.

"Anytime, Miss Parker," Michael told her, grinning at her surprised look. Liz blew them each a kiss and left.

Max sighed and slumped onto the couch. "God, what a day!"

Michael joined him and there was a long moment of silence before he asked, "So…how does it look from my side?"

Max whipped his head around to lock gazes with Michael, seeing the same comprehension that had been in Liz's eyes and more: empathy. Michael had been on the outside for most of Max and Liz's relationship—today marked the first time that it had truly been Max, and suddenly Max appreciated deeply how difficult it must have been. He smiled a little and shrugged, knowing that Michael would understand.

And he did. Michael understood all the way to his bones what it had cost Max to step aside today. He had been amazed and humbled beyond belief that Max had been able to do it—had left Michael and Liz all alone, to find their own way to each other and forge something that didn't include him. Yet Michael knew, and he knew that Max knew, that nothing that happened between any of the three of them was exclusive. Even if only in spirit, they were bound together as a circle, a triumvirate in truth, and it was only with all three together that they were whole.

"How's your back?" Max asked with a genuine smile.

Michael laughed. "Scratched all to hell! I think I even have marks on my ass that match the ones she gave you, your first time together." The ones I touched afterwards, he willed Max to remember.

Max was startled that Michael recalled that but on further reflection, it made perfect sense. Not only that he would recall it but that he would bring it up now, reminding Max obliquely that Michael loved him too.

"You'll have to show me later," he said. Suddenly Max ached with fatigue and he yawned, stretching. The movement pulled his shirt up and Michael's gaze sharpened.

"Maxwell…you didn't "take care of yourself," did you?" he asked softly. Max looked down at himself and back up at Michael with a wry smile.

"No. Why, you offering?" he asked flippantly, his face unreadable. Michael considered his words carefully before speaking.

"No, Max. Today…wasn't about you," he answered gently. He was rewarded with a nod of approval.

"You're right; it wasn't. If you don't mind, I think I'll go—crash for a while, before I go home," Max murmured, a painful vulnerability in his voice. Michael nodded, watching him rise and pad over to the bedroom.

"Maxwell," he said, right before Max went into the other room. Max turned to look at him and Michael ached for the loss in his eyes. But he didn't regret it; he would never regret it, and he thought that Max did not regret it, either. He simply needed a little space to heal.

Michael's gaze flickered down Max's body and back up to his eyes, and he half smiled as he offered, "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Max chuckled, obviously caught off guard by the invitation. "I'll remember that. Thanks, Michael. I," he hesitated and for the first time Michael was the one who stepped in, who said the words that needed to be spoken.

"I love you, too."

*waves* Heyla everyone! Thanks for all the lovely comments, and Happy New Year to y'all.

Now that we're all back to work/school/life as usual, I figured I'd get back to posting.
hugs, Tas


from Chapter 8

"No, Max. Today…wasn't about you," he answered gently. He was rewarded with a nod of approval.

"You're right; it wasn't. If you don't mind, I think I'll go—crash for a while, before I go home," Max murmured, a painful vulnerability in his voice. Michael nodded, watching him rise and pad over to the bedroom.

"Maxwell," he said, right before Max went into the other room. Max turned to look at him and Michael ached for the loss in his eyes. But he didn't regret it; he would never regret it, and he thought that Max did not regret it, either. He simply needed a little space to heal.

Michael's gaze flickered down Max's body and back up to his eyes, and he half smiled as he offered, "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Max chuckled, obviously caught off guard by the invitation. "I'll remember that. Thanks, Michael. I," he hesitated and for the first time Michael was the one who stepped in, who said the words that needed to be spoken.

"I love you, too."


*****Chapter 9*****

Michael started in surprise as the phone rang. He groped around on the floor beside the couch for it, finally yanking it to his ear and barking, "Hello?"

"I thought you'd be in a better mood than that, Michael," Liz sounded amused and he laughed.

"Oh, I am, it's just annoying when I have to look for the phone before I can answer it. I wasn't expecting it to be you," his voice softened. "You haven't been gone more than half an hour, Liz."

"I know," she laughed. "I was just thinking, and… You and Max didn't do anything, did you?" It was a rhetorical question; she obviously had figured out that they hadn't.

"No," Michael admitted. "Max…didn't want me to, and I—well, I said that it wasn't about him today and he agreed. He went to crash in my room."

"Where you and I made love and the two of you held me captive all afternoon," Liz clarified.

Michael winced; it sounded bad when she put it like that. "Uh, yeah."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "He's in there, throwing himself a pity party and I won't stand for it, Michael. Get your ass in there and wake him up, then—what?"

"What, what?" Michael was confused.

"Not you, Michael. Maria, what did you say?"

He heard the sound of a whispered conference then Liz laughed. "Perfect!"

"What's perfect?" Michael asked warily.

"Go put me on the speaker phone in your bedroom and then do what I tell you to," Liz instructed.

"Liz…" he protested, reluctant to disturb Max. Michael thought that he needed some time alone right now, not whatever Liz had in mind.

"Michael, you've been following orders all day, don't quit now. Max has gotten on his high horse, feeling all noble and martyred because he let us make love," she snorted. "He didn't let us do anything, and what happened certainly didn't exclude him. Michael, did you think about Max while we were making love?"

The question caught Michael off guard and he stammered, "Y—yes."

"So did I. And not the way you're thinking—I was not wishing it was him—but I thought about the two of you, together, the other night. When I held Max while you made love to him, and I could feel it every time you thrust into him; it was almost like you were making love to me. Then today it was me, but I could still feel Max too. Not between us, but all around us. Am I making any sense?" she asked hesitantly.

"Perfect sense, as usual," Michael told her warmly. God, she was incredible! "I thought about you and Max, together. The way his back looks, after you've made love and he's all scratched and gorgeous," he admitted.

"Ah, you like that, do you? I'd say that I'd have to remember that, but I do it on sheer instinct," she purred. "So while you were right, today wasn't about Max, it wasn't not about him either, and I'm not going to let him get all long-suffering and idiotic about it. I felt that, that lead pipe in his pants when he hugged me and that's not fair, to any of us."

"How is it not fair to us that Max—" he broke off at a gasp from Liz.

"You don't honestly carry that around with you, do you? I'm sure it is clean, Maria, but I don't think I…hey, isn't it kind of, well, small?"

Michael could hear Maria laughing hysterically and Liz starting to giggle. He smiled at the infectious sound.

"No, I'm sorry, that can't possibly be above average. That would make Max and Michael—no, Maria, I—well, sure I might but my hands are just fine! And—no, my guys make me vibrate just fine, thank you," Liz laughed.

Michael was glad he was on the phone with Liz and not in the same room as he figured out what they were talking about and blushed furiously. Maria had a vibrator on her, and wanted Liz to use it? While she did what, talked to him and Max? And the whole size thing was embarrassing. But still quite an ego boost, he admitted to himself with a smile.

"OK, go, go! I need privacy for this. Don't whine, babe, it'd probably just turn you on and then where would our friendship be?" Liz teased Maria. Michael heard more laughter, then Maria's faded and there was only Liz.

"Sorry, Michael. Where were we? Oh, yes. Go wake Max and put me on the speaker phone."

"But," Michael protested; she hadn't answered his question.

"Michael," Liz's tone was one he knew and he rolled his eyes but rose from the couch and padded to the bedroom. Hesitantly he pushed open the door.

"Max?" he asked quietly, peering into the darkened room.

"I'm awake," Max's voice came from the bed and Michael entered, closing the door at Liz's prompt.

"Liz is on the phone. She wants me to put her on the speaker so she can talk to both of us," he explained his presence. Max sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, immediately assuming there was a problem as Michael activated the speaker.

"Yes, something's wrong," Liz said sweetly over the speaker. "Get up, Max, and stand in the middle of the floor."

Max looked quizzically at Michael, who shrugged. He sighed and did as she had asked, standing close to Michael and noticing that Michael's eyes were automatically drawn to the bulge in Max's shorts.

"Michael, take his boxers off," Liz's command floated through and Max frowned.

"Liz, I don't—" he was cut off.

"Michael told me what you said to each other, about today not being about you. That's crap, Max, and you know it. It was as much about you as either of us. Michael and I making love was as much about you. We were both thinking about you then, did you know that?"

"I—no, I would never have guessed," Max said softly, seeking confirmation in Michael's face. He found it, in the gentle smile Michael gave him and the light in his eyes.

"That's why I'm telling you. Are your shorts off yet?" her grin was audible. Max rolled his eyes and removed his boxers himself, crossing his arms over his chest when he righted himself. It was impossible to miss the hunger on Michael's face; equally impossible for his body to refrain from responding to it. But his mind was still elsewhere.

"Yeah, they're off. Listen, Liz, I know you think that I need release or something, but I'm fine. Honest. It's hardly the first time I've gone around with a boner after being with you and not done anything about it," he snorted in wry amusement. Liz's laughter tinkled through the phone line.

"Hmm, kind of like sometimes all I'd do was change into a dry pair of undies after you left?" she teased. Both men laughed.

Max shivered as her voice changed, growing sultry. "But most of the time, that wasn't enough. I usually wanted more than you were willing to give, especially in the beginning, and so when you left me I'd be positively aching for you, Max. Aching to be touched…so I touched. All the while imagining your hands on my body, your fingers inside me," Liz murmured.

He swallowed convulsively, his eyes closing as her voice poured over him like warm caramel. Max felt an answering leap in his cock as Liz continued, "Sometimes I'd take a shower, letting the water run over me in an endless stream that muffled the sound of your name. Because that's what I always called, always whispered."

"I'm glad your vocabulary's expanded," Michael murmured, and as Liz's sensual chuckle floated in the room Max's eyes snapped open. The slight puff of air as Michael spoke had alerted Max to his change in position, and he stared down at Michael's upturned face in the realization that every objection he'd had, had melted away with Liz's confessions. A faint groan escaped Max's lips as he allowed himself to feel the delicious anticipation of Michael's touch.

Michael held himself still, simply kneeling at Max's feet as if in supplication. He had begun to understand what Liz had meant, that Max's stubborn refusal to let go was just that: a way to keep holding on to both his lovers as separate entities. To leave unacknowledged that another step had been taken; a new level attained in their relationship. But Liz, and now Michael too, would not permit Max to hold himself aloof from them. There could be no such barriers between the three—indeed, there could be no boundaries at all.

This was a day of births. Of Liz's formal entrance into her womanhood, adult at last. And no less of Max's emergence into a new world: one where the three of them existed as perfect equals. No matter the other worlds in which they co-existed, in this shared circle only love held any significance, because the only language spoken was that of the naked soul.

And so Michael knelt, barely daring to breathe as he waited for the words his heart knew would be coming.

"Please," Max's soft utterance carried with it the scent of Liz's arousal and its combination with Max's own distinctive spice dizzied Michael. He met Max's eyes, gold pools of liquid desire, and leaned forward.

Max watched Michael extend his tongue, his mouth reaching for Max's cock in exquisite slow motion. Michael's lips gleamed from his licking them, and the faint shine highlighted their sensuality. Max had not noticed before how voluptuous and full Michael's lips were. He thought distractedly that Michael would be as devastatingly sexy as Liz if he pouted like she did.

Then Max's thoughts rushed out with his breath as Michael reached his goal, those soft beautiful lips encasing Max's cock in moist warmth.

"Mmm. Was that the beginning of an intimate kiss that I just heard?" Liz inquired archly, a hint of laughter amidst her overt longing.

"Yes," Max murmured, not only answering Liz's question but also acknowledging that he'd needed this—that he needed both of them.

He groaned as Michael's hands began to roam, caressing his thighs and his taut abdomen, reaching higher to tug gently at Max's stiff nipples.

"Oh, yes, Max. I want to hear you," Liz breathed, an audible hitch in her voice. It flashed through Max just what she had been talking about a few moments ago, and wildly he wondered if she'd chosen that topic at random, or…

"Liz, are you…" he trailed off, not quite able to come out and ask her.

"Masturbating while listening to you and Michael? Yes," she admitted candidly with a light laugh. "I only wish I could see you. You're so unbelievably gorgeous together, Max."

"So are you. I mean, you and Michael are," Max confessed softly. He gasped as Michael's hands parted his buttocks, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin there. He continued huskily, "I—I wish we could see you right now too."

"Really? That would—that would turn you on?" Liz sounded surprised and Max chuckled.

"Oh yeah," he intoned, feeling Michael squeeze his ass in agreement. "Both of us think so."

"Oh," she murmured. Max felt a surge in his blood as he pictured how her delicate hands would look on her body, the way her favorite pale pink nail polish would shine all the more with her moisture, her slim fingers gleaming against the deeper pink…he moaned as Michael seemingly read his mind and twisted his thoughts to fit their current situation, sliding lubricated fingers into Max's muscular opening and applying pressure.

"Oh, Max," Liz echoed his moan. "What are you thinking about now?"

"Pink—pink nail polish," he blurted out.

"Pink—oh! So, you're thinking about me doing this," she purred, gasping slightly as she finished her sentence. Max knew she had just thrust her fingers inside herself and his eyes sealed shut as he ground out, "Yes!"

"Now that's what I want to hear, Max. I want to know exactly how aroused you are, since I can't see you," Liz said breathlessly. "And—Michael, I want you to do to Max what I did to you earlier today. Just be careful and don't press too hard."

Michael rumbled his assent and the vibrations shot through Max, eliciting another moan. Max commented, "Oh, God, he was right about the vibrations from your mouth."

"I'm sure he was, but that's not what I was talking about, Max. Michael?" she prompted.

It took Max a moment to realize what exactly the change was that had snapped Michael's control, and then he was drowning in sensation as oh so gently, Michael's exposed teeth scraped across the ultra sensitive skin on Max's cock.

"Oh God, Liz. Oh my God," he exclaimed raggedly, his hands reaching for Michael's hair of their own accord.

"You like that," Liz affirmed. "I knew you would."

Max's fingers threaded more securely through Michael's long locks. "Harder, Michael. Please," he asked.

Michael applied more pressure with his teeth, gradually increasing it as Max's hands and moans urged him farther. He knew the scraping sensation had to be close to painful now, but Max was being exceptionally clear that he wanted it. Feeling daring, he threw caution to the winds and bit down, not too hard.

Fire exploded through Max at the aggressive bite and his legs trembled in reaction. Michael tried to withdraw a little, obviously fearing that he'd done damage, and harshly Max pulled his head closer.

"No, Michael—more," he pleaded.

The same fire ran through Michael at the need in Max's plea. He abandoned his incessant sucking motion to turn his attention to biting and licking Max's cock, his tongue soothing the sting of his teeth. Max's hands tightened even further in Michael's hair and he knew that Max wouldn't last much longer. He pulled away for just a moment to whisper, "Come for me, Max."

"Yes, Max, come for us," Liz urged, her own breath coming in pants through the phone line.

"Michael…Liz," Max cried out, Michael's hands and lips and teeth combining with Liz's pleasure-heavy voice and finally driving him to the brink and beyond. Michael moved fast as Max's spasms started, taking the tip of Max's cock into his mouth and sucking up all his fluid. Max heard small cries from Liz entwined with his own helpless moans and abruptly realized that listening to his orgasm had triggered Liz's own. It was a heady thought.

As Max's shaking subsided, Michael withdrew his mouth and his hands. He noticed the myriad red marks on Max's cock, their presence a testimony to Michael's love. The sight made him feel incredibly possessive and it was a tremendous turn on as well, knowing how much Max had needed what he had done to him. What they had done to him, he and Liz. Liz had been right—as usual.

"Oh my, Michael and Max. That was—quite a performance," Liz smiled audibly, still breathless sounding. All three of them laughed at her flippant remark.

"Liz…thank you, for calling, and—you know," Max said quietly. "Somehow you always seem to know what I need, and I love you for that."

"I love you too, Max. And you, Michael. But now I really have to go—Maria's calling from the other side of the door and I have to get back to my birthday dinner," she laughed. "But, Max, leave your window open tonight."

"What?" Max asked in surprise, but she was gone. He suddenly felt weak and stumbled over to the bed, sitting down. Michael moved to sit beside him, slinging an arm across Max's shoulders.

"Sounds like you're getting lucky later," Michael teased gently, smiling when Max flushed. It was amazing how easy it still was to embarrass him, bringing an almost virginal blush to his cheeks. But he's definitely no virgin, Michael thought to himself, heat uncurling in his belly at the thought of just how experienced a lover Max was now. Experienced partly because of Michael.

"You should be able to sleep now," he offered, stroking the hair away from Max's temple and kissing it. "Want me to stay with you?"

Max glanced over at Michael, warmed by the suggestion and by the transparent love on his face. "Yeah, would you?"

Michael didn't say anything, just moved behind Max and pulled him down flat on the bed, covering them both with the blanket. He fitted himself to Max, draping his arm over Max's torso, his hand resting on the sculpted muscles of his chest.

Max was suddenly aware of the insistent throbbing of Michael's cock, pressed close against his thigh. Smiling as an idea occurred to him, he shifted down in the bed a little, raising his top leg so that Michael's cock slipped between his legs.

"Michael, come inside," he invited, laughter in his voice.

"Just like this?" Michael asked. Max twisted his head up to see Michael's face.

"Yes, just like this. Make love to me," he murmured.

Michael smiled, seeing the sincerity in Max's eyes. He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned in to kiss Max, their lips meeting and exploring each other unhurriedly. When he at last reluctantly pulled his mouth away, Michael whispered, "All right."

Michael reached down and grasped his cock, guiding it to Max's still slicked body. Max relaxed, his head returning to a more comfortable forward-facing position, and Michael kissed his neck as he slowly slid inside.

They rocked together tenderly, Max lacing his fingers with Michael's on his chest and Michael continuing to lavish attention on Max's neck and ear. As Michael's body tightened in pleasure he nibbled along Max's jaw line, prompting Max to turn his face up again. He kissed Max lovingly, his tongue searching out the deep recesses of his mouth while his hand squeezed Max's. And just like that, lips and hands and bodies locked, Michael found a gentle yet profound release.

Neither man spoke as Michael pulled out and waved their joined hands over their bodies to clean them. When their hands returned to their resting place on Max's chest, Michael once again fitted his body to Max's and, sated and content, they drifted off to sleep, together.

Posted in 2 parts for length.
hugs, Tas


Chapter 10

Max stirred as he heard the sound of crunching grass outside his open window. He propped himself up on one elbow in time to see Liz climb in laboriously, landing somewhat awkwardly with a thump.

"Damn, Max, you need a stepladder or something," she smiled, her teeth gleaming in the semi-darkness. "I have a ladder for you!"

He chuckled. "If I was sure that this would be a regular occurrence, believe me I'd get you a stepladder."

Liz giggled and walked across the room, stopping in front of Max's position on the bed. He sat up, the blankets sliding from his nude torso unnoticed as he saw that she had on the same long trench coat as on the night they'd formed their circle. His breathing rate sped up a little at the memory of the tight black leather she'd worn underneath; however, he sensed that tonight was different.

As she discarded the coat, Max suddenly recognized what she was wearing this time—he remembered those pajamas vividly. The splashes of spicy color scattered across the cool cream of the loose drawstring pants. The knitted top in muted tomato red, the solitariness of its thin straps betraying the unbound state of her breasts underneath it.

Max remembered how it had felt to bunch the stretchy fabric in his fist, its softness only adding to the intoxication of baring the small of her back to his greedy fingers; to the lustrous silk surrounding his other hand as he cupped the nape of her neck. And all of that was as nothing to the explosive touch of her lips when he had kissed her.

"My first kiss," Max murmured, grimacing as he heard the, "My," where he'd meant to say, "Our."

"Was it really?" Liz smiled shyly. "I often thought it might have been, because I'd never seen you with anyone, but I couldn't tell," she admitted.

"Good," he smiled back. Max patted the bed beside him. "Come sit with me."

Liz hid another smile as she sat down. She was right: the pajamas had thrown him off balance. He wasn't sure of her intentions anymore, whether they had been meant to provoke his memories of innocent passion or if they'd been convenient and were meant simply to convey her desire to be held. It wouldn't be long before he found out which was right, though.

She stretched out full length on the bed beside Max, turning on her side to face him as he resumed his supine position. For a long moment Liz merely looked at him, drinking in his silvered beauty in the moonlit darkness. The faint glow highlighted the hard curves of his body, inviting her touch, spurring her need to taste. She had been on edge since calling Michael's early in the evening, her body craving more after listening to the two of them and imagining them together.

Max reached out to stroke the wayward tendrils of hair away from her face, slightly disappointed that Michael's assessment of why she'd told Max to leave the window open was apparently wrong. But at least she was here, in his arms; that was more than enough right now.

"Liz, I—I'm sorry, about earlier today," he apologized quietly.

"Don't be sorry, Max. It's all right," she smiled. "Just don't do it again!"

They shared a laugh and she added, "It all turned out for the best anyway, Max, so please, don't worry about it any more."

"All right," he agreed. He caught his breath as Liz traced his lips with her fingers.

"Max…do you remember telling me, what you'd fantasized about our first time together? How you thought it would be slow and sweet, and so special?" she inquired softly.

The corners of Max's lips turned up under her fingertips. "Of course I remember. And it was special, Liz, incredibly so."

"I know. I know it was," she nodded, moving closer to him. "But it wasn't exactly slow and sweet!"

He laughed. "True enough, but that was my own fault, and it didn't matter to me by then anyway. It was beautiful, Liz. Don't you feel the same way?" his voice wavered as it occurred to him that she might be asking because she was upset that it had not been as they had imagined it.

"No! Oh, no, Max. It was perfect exactly as it happened. It's only that I was thinking about it, you know?" she reassured him instantly.

"Yeah, I think about it sometimes too," Max admitted, slow heat building in him at her continual caresses of his lips.

"Yeah? What do you think about it Max?" Liz prompted, snuggling against his chest and moving her questing fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He swallowed, knowing that she would be able to feel his growing excitement since the physical evidence was now pressed against her thigh. He cleared his throat before saying, "Um, just that you're so amazing, for—well, for everything."

Liz giggled and kissed his chin, her lips nibbling down his jaw to his ear. She felt Max shiver under her attentions as she licked the outer shell of his ear, gently pulling on the lobe with her teeth. She breathed across the wetness she'd created, "I was thinking that you're pretty amazing yourself. I was also thinking that after all of our earlier activities today, it might be nice to take it slow and sweet tonight."

"That's why the pajamas," Max said in sudden understanding. "Recreation of first times."

"Exactly," she whispered into his ear. "I'm a big girl now."

Max chuckled, arching his head back as Liz kissed his throat. "I beg to differ, you're just as small as you were yesterday, Lizzie. Only difference is that it's not illegal for me to make love to you anymore."

"Does that disappoint you? Take away some of the fun?" she asked, dragging her tongue along his collarbone.

"Mmm, not at all! In fact, it adds to it. I like knowing that we could up and get married if we were so inclined," he murmured unthinkingly, caught up in the feel of her mouth against his skin. Max closed his eyes briefly, reprimanding himself the second the words were out. What had possessed him to say that?

"Married," Liz echoed, halting her rain of kisses and moving so that she could see his face. "You want to marry me?"

"Someday," he admitted softly. "I don't know how we'd work it, with the three of us, but yeah. Someday I'd like to marry you, Liz Parker."

His face shone with sincerity as Liz scrutinized him. For whatever reason, she had mentally discarded the idea of marriage when Michael had become an irrevocable and incredibly beloved part of the equation. Knowing that it wasn't legally possible for her to marry both, she had allowed that dream to dissolve. Yet here was Max, her sensitive lover still clinging to the hope that someday...

"I would like that, Max. I'd like to have those ties with you and Michael both," Liz said honestly. "I just don't know if it'll ever be possible."

"I know. But I spent ten years thinking this would never be possible," he smiled, stroking her hair. "And then I climbed up onto your balcony and you were wearing these pajamas, and I kissed you. You're like my looking glass, Liz: loving you can make me believe six impossible things before breakfast."

"Oh," Liz whispered, her voice roughened by unshed tears. Max heard the tight quality and kissed her eyelids, closing them, then pressed his lips against hers.

His kiss was delicate, his tongue creeping out to taste her in gentle sweeps as his mouth clung softly to hers. Its motion was languorous and achingly tender, and Max continued to stroke the midnight silk of her hair while his bottom hand cupped her face in his beloved gesture.

Liz had forgotten the sheer power that a simple kiss could have. There was an undeniable curl of desire in her belly but it was a generalized awakening of her senses, not the sharp urgency that had been their norm of late. A blissful warmth spread throughout her body, leaving a lovely lassitude in its wake. Liz felt as if she could go on kissing Max forever.

Max felt much the same, only he wanted to taste more of Liz than just her beautifully pouty lips. His mouth left hers and he pressed soft kisses over her face, playfully licking her eyebrows to make her smile. As she giggled, Max's smiling lips traveled down over her temple and onto Liz's petite ear. His smile broadened at her sudden hiss of pleasure when he licked her ear lobe, and then, after nipping it with his lips, he continued his journey down her neck to her collarbone.

The straps of her top were loose and Max nudged them down her shoulders and off with his nose and cheeks, scattering kisses along the way. He licked the newly bared skin, dragging his tongue up along her shoulders and down her upper arms, and back again. Moving to the outer edge of the top near Liz's upraised arm, Max took the soft material in his teeth and pulled carefully, inching the fabric down to her waist by tugging on first one side, then the other until her breasts were free. He made a deep sound of satisfaction at the sight of her pert nipples and dropped one wet kiss on each rosy peak before dragging his tongue along the valley between her breasts, charting her cleavage.

Liz moaned at his thorough attentiveness, her hands instinctively threading through Max's hair and holding him closer without unduly restricting his range of motion. She was perfectly content to ride the swelling wave that Max's loving ministrations induced in her, body and soul. Except she wanted to share how unbelievably precious this made her feel; wanted Max to feel cherished too.

"Your turn," she whispered, laughing when Max declined to move or stop what he was doing. "Seriously, Max; sit up, please," Liz entreated as she let go of him.

He heaved a tremendous sigh as he complied with her request, though the devilish glint in his eyes spoke of his true lack of reluctance. "Only if I get to finish later," he offered with a crooked grin.

"Oh, finishing isn't going to be an issue, Max," Liz murmured throatily, giving him a sexy smile of her own at the way his breathing stuttered.

"OK, then," Max nodded jerkily. Liz leaned closer, brushing her lips ever so lightly over his.

"Edge of the bed, please," she coaxed him forward with feathery kisses.

Max followed her willingly, sliding until his feet were firmly planted on the floor. He closed his eyes as Liz settled between his spread thighs and peppered his skin with kisses, smiling faintly when she tugged his boxers down and off. A groan escaped his lips as hers grazed the tip of his erection, the moist kiss enhanced by the silken tresses that danced across his lap.

Feeling the shivers running through Max, Liz remembered something that she had often thought about doing. She paused and smiled wickedly at Max when his eyes fluttered open, full of golden fire.

"You know, Max, Maria and I worked out the mechanics of this little maneuver that I've wanted to try with you for a long time now. Since way before we got back together, even," she said conversationally, exulting at the desire darkening his gaze.

"What's that?" he asked thickly. Liz had a dangerous look on her face and Max thought that it was a good thing he was already sitting down, given how weak his knees felt at seeing it.

"Well, it sort of goes with what Michael and I teased you about today," her voice stayed low and relaxed-sounding as she parted her hair at the nape of her neck, bringing both sides forward over her shoulders. Max stared at her, fascinated but baffled.

"About being a control freak? Liz, you know—you both know—that it's all too easy for either of you to snap that," he confessed, a little bashfully.

"Oh, yeah, I know," she breathed, raising her eyebrows in emphasis. Max flushed and Liz smiled again, that irresistibly naughty sparkle back in her eyes. He watched uncomprehendingly as Liz languorously wrapped the ends of her lengthy, shining hair around her open palms, holding them in place with her thumbs.

"I was actually talking about you being a fetishist, Max," she murmured, leaning forward and reaching for him with her wrapped hands.

Holy shit, Max thought at the utterly unexpected embrace, the heat of her palms radiating through the cool silk of her hair rubbing against his sensitive skin, finding a rhythm. Aloud, he protested unconvincingly, "Liz, you—you'll get—all over!"

"So?" she grinned, and then leaned in to taste him. Her tongue ran around the head of his cock, following the thick ridge of skin then sweeping across the tip and probing at the small hole. She withdrew far enough to ask, "Don't you like it?"

"God, yes, Liz!" Max groaned, undone by the passionate note in her voice.

"I knew you would," Liz smiled, punctuating her words with little licks around the tip of his erection. "Just like I knew you'd like having Michael's teeth on you. Although it looks like you enjoyed that even more than I'd thought, judging by the marks he left!"

"Yeah, that kind of took us both by surprise," he admitted shyly. Max leaned back on his hands, forcing himself not to reach for her as her slippery, teasing caresses continued. In spite of their gentleness and the occasional stuttering in the rhythm as her grip on her hair loosened, Max could feel the pressure building fast. Liz had literally taken his breath away with her audacity, doing something that he'd not even dared to fantasize about. It had seemed a little too out there, too much to imagine. Asking her to trust him to please her was one thing, but expecting her to reciprocate was altogether different. But oh, the silken glide of her tresses over his heated flesh was driving him mad!

"Liz, you—oh, God, that feels so incredible, but you have to stop, please. I don't—I want it to be—inside you," he panted.

A little surprised, Liz glanced up into Max's stormy eyes, seeing that he was serious. She smiled, rubbing her cheek along his erection before she let go and allowed her hair to unwind from her hands and fall loose, shaking her head to settle it into place. Her smile deepened as she caught Max avidly watching her gesture, and Liz rose up on her knees, moving in close to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder, flipping her hair over him so that it tumbled down his back.

"You're trying to kill me, right?" he teased, enjoying the ticklish sensation.

"Not exactly. I was thinking more like just turning you on," Liz laughed against his skin.

"It's working," Max chuckled. "And while I do like these pajamas, how about getting you out of them?"

"Mmm, would that turn you on?" she asked coquettishly.

"Absolutely," he smiled. In response Liz lifted her arms and Max gently pulled the bunched up material of her top over her head, tossing it on the floor. She stood, still nestled between his legs, and he tugged down the loose pants, letting them pool around her ankles. Delicately Liz stepped out of them and kicked them away as she moved back up close to Max.

He nuzzled her chest, his tongue flickering out to taste her tight nipples. She moaned, arching into his mouth and Max sucked harder, rubbing along her torso and her bottom. One hand reached down between her legs, dipping into her wetness, and then the other trailed along her hip and joined it from the front. His fingers tangled and dueled, becoming drenched in Liz's moisture. Max caressed her everywhere, spreading her juices over her gradually slickening skin, and then both hands slid deep, penetrating Liz.

"Ah!" she cried out softly, her head falling forward so that her hair curtained Max.

"I like this," he chuckled into her breast. "Everything I need in easy reach."

Liz laughed breathlessly. "Except that my knees are buckling!"

"Mmm, can't have that. Lean on me," Max instructed, and she did, bracing her hands on his strong shoulders.

"I hope that's enough, Lizzie, because I'm not," he tugged on one nipple with his teeth, "stopping," and then the other nipple, "now."

"It's—ah!—OK," she gasped, leaning forward a little more. She couldn't see what Max was doing, with her hair everywhere, but she certainly felt it as he returned his attention to her taut nipples, teasing and tasting them in turn. Her hands slipped a little farther down his shoulders onto his upper arms, and Liz relished the sensation under her palms of his hard muscles moving, working to bring her pleasure. The correlation between the flexing of his biceps beneath her fingers and the smooth pumping action of his fingers inside her body thrilled her beyond measure, and as his thumb brushed against her clitoris Liz moaned wildly, losing herself in climax.

When her body stopped contracting around his hands, Max gently withdrew his fingers, creating a momentary heat to dry his hands before settling them on Liz's hips.

"Come here," he invited, pulling her closer.

"What, right like this?" Liz raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Mmm-hmm," Max growled. She began to climb on his lap then, hit with a sudden inspiration, Liz turned around and leaned back into Max, moving so that her legs were spread-eagled over top of his, his thighs supporting her.

Max didn't say anything about the novel positioning, merely gripped her hips and lifted her. Liz reached back between her legs and grasped his cock, guiding him into her feminine core. He rocked up to meet her, his hands moving in counterpoint to his hips until Liz matched the rhythm. Then he let go, one arm snaking around her waist while his other hand went south, headed unerringly for her damp curls.

Liz threw her head back as Max stimulated her, trapping her long fall of hair between their bodies, fanned out like an offering. As their pace increased, the fine strands matted together with their mingled sweat. The resulting twisted cords of silk rubbed against their bare skin with each movement and Max buried his mouth in Liz's neck, sucking furiously at her tender skin in an effort to keep control.

"Oh, Max. More," Liz begged, her slender arms reaching back to hold his head. He nipped at her shoulder, biting her neck when she urged him on. Lost in her little sounds, Max bent his head farther forward, tasting the taut skin on her throat; marking her.

Liz felt each bite as a small explosion of fire, searing her. Heat spread through her body, pulsing in her blood and converging on her center. She grasped Max by his hair and yanked his head up, greedily drinking from his lips in an effort to quiet herself as she started to tremble.

Her aggressive, demanding action and the sudden ultra tight grip of her internal muscles on his cock drove Max over the edge with Liz, his moans fusing with hers as his essence spilled inside her. Their rocking motion slowed but the kiss went on, its tenor changing from urgency to languidness; from the fervor of full-blown passion to a tender sampling of each other's love.

At last Max wrapped both arms around Liz's torso, breaking the kiss to whisper, "Hold on." She grabbed his arms, startled when they were abruptly in motion, rolling onto the bed to lie flat with Max nestled inside her still, growing soft. She reveled in the fact that such total satisfaction was because of her—and in the knowledge that should she want him again, Max would be ready for her.

Liz smiled as Max pressed light kisses to her abused flesh. She started to giggle when he murmured, amusement rich in his voice, "And you thought I had a thing for your hair before!"

"Does it seem like I mind?" she reiterated her afternoon statement. "Besides, it isn't just my hair, you know."

"What else?" he asked, nuzzling the nape of her neck.

"Michael's hair," Liz grinned.

"Michael's hair?"

Liz twisted to see Max's face. "Yeah. He's growing it for you, you know. He'll never admit to it, but I've seen the look on his face. When you stroke it before you kiss him," she said softly.

"Caught," Max admitted, returning her smile. "I suppose I am a fetishist at that. Could be worse, though."

"Oh? How's that?" Liz played along.

"I could have a thing for spike heels," he waggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

"There's an image I could have done without, Michael in spike heels!"

"Uh-uh, just you. Michael's already taller than me!" Max protested.

"Poor baby!" she mocked.

"Yep," he agreed, swooping down to kiss her. "Speaking of Michael, we made love like this, after you went back to your dinner."

"Just like this?"

Max had to smile at her unconscious echo. "Yeah."

"Except it wasn't, Max," Liz's mien became more serious.

"Well, Michael was behind me, but otherwise—what?" he asked as she shook her head slightly.

"I mean, it was different, Max. Neither you nor Michael have the body parts I have," she explained.

"I'm not following you. Beyond the obvious, that is, that Michael and I make love to each other—elsewhere, so to speak," Max wasn't sure how to phrase that one.

"That's what I was talking about. Do you think either of you would ever, make love to me, elsewhere?" Liz asked hesitantly.

"What?"

She averted her face, snuggling back into Max so that his nose was pressed into her hair. "I'm curious, Max. Are you like grossed out now?" she asked in a small voice.

"No. No, Liz, I'm not grossed out, or disgusted or anything. That would be just slightly hypocritical," his smile was audible and she relaxed a little. "I guess I'm surprised, more than anything. I never really thought about it before."

"Never?"

"Well, no. I didn't really even think about using my hands, before today, and that was only after…well, you know," he chuckled.

"I liked that. A lot," Liz confessed softly.

"You liked what?" Max prompted, kissing her ear where it peeked out.

"The, uh, double whammy I guess you'd call it," she turned her face farther away and Max felt heat emanating from her.

"Liz, are you blushing?" he couldn't quite believe it.

"Don't rub it in," she laughed, and Max joined her.

"I guess I've been too enamored of this," he stroked her tangled hair, "to think much about your ass."

"Max!" Liz flipped over to face him, shock and laughter competing in her expression. They both winced at the sudden separation and she grimaced in apology.

He leaned closer and kissed her lingeringly. "But because I didn't think about it before doesn't mean I wouldn't be open to it, eventually. I was friends with Michael for eleven years before we kissed. Just give me time to get used to the idea."

"I need that time, too," Liz kissed his nose. "I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn't freak, if I wanted to try it, sometime."

Max smiled. "Liz, you know I wouldn't do that, not if it's something you want to do. I live but to please you," he said softly, only half joking.

"Like you did today," she murmured, feeling a little shy about her uninhibited responses.

"Like I did today," he agreed, continuing to caress her hair. Under his alien fingers the sweaty locks smoothed and straightened, and Liz smiled her thanks, turning her cheek to kiss his palm.

"What about Michael?" she asked guardedly.

"Michael?" Max laughed. "He's the adventurous one, Liz. He'd probably bend you over and have his way with you, no need to discuss it!"

Liz detected nothing but amusement in his voice and she grinned. "And what would you do then, Max?" she taunted.

Max coughed, flushing slightly as her eyes widened in surprise at the signs of life stirring against her thigh. "Watch," he admitted huskily.

"O-ho, and the truth comes out! It isn't just because you were jealous; you like watching Michael and I together," Liz accused, smiling.

"Yeah," he didn't try to deny it.

"Voyeur," she teased.

"Exhibitionist," he shot back, grinning.

"I love you."

"The feeling is very," Max kissed her cheek, "very," he kissed her other cheek, "mutual," and captured her lips, his tongue teasing them apart for a quick taste.

"I really should go. I have to work in the morning," Liz said regretfully.

"Me too, though not so early. Wish you could stay over," he said wistfully.

"Or better yet, that we could both stay at Michael's," Liz sighed and Max nodded in agreement.

"Would it be OK to use your bathroom before I head home?"

"Yeah, sure, everyone else went to bed ages ago. You know where it is," he smiled. Liz sighed again then rolled away from Max, grabbing her pajamas off the floor and dressing. She smiled at him on her way out; he hadn't bothered retrieving his boxers, he simply stretched flat out on his back with a tired grunt.

Liz rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror while washing her hands: she had bite marks all over her neck, shoulders and collarbone. And a few farther down, she discovered as she lifted the clingy material away from her breasts. She shut off the light and opened the door, moving carefully down the darkened hallway. When she reached Max's door she pushed it open, announcing sarcastically, "Nice vampire act, Max! I think every inch of me that you could reach in that position is covered in teeth marks."

"I try," was his laughing response as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. Neither of them noticed the figure behind her that had been briefly illuminated by the lamplight spilling out into the hallway, clutching a forgotten glass of water in a shaky hand.

Max entered the kitchen, a little surprised when the conversation in progress halted immediately. Great, they were talking about me. Lovely way to start a Monday, he thought resentfully. His chin lifted as he pulled out milk and cereal and sat down at the table, beginning to eat in silence.

"So anyway," Diane said brightly, "that new person is starting in my office today, and I'll be helping to get her oriented. Hopefully once she gets settled in, my workload will lighten quite a bit."

"That's great, Mom," Max told her. Philip asked about the new employee's qualifications, and the conversation was off and running again, focusing on daily inanities and small talk. But Max hadn't missed the dirty look Isabel had shot him when he had walked in. He resolved to talk to her about it once they were out of the house.

"What was that all about?" he asked Isabel as he pulled out of the driveway. She sat beside him in stony silence, filing her nails meticulously.

"What?" Isabel replied disinterestedly.

"You know what, Iz. I'm aware you were talking about me," he informed her.

"Oh, that," she still sounded bored.

"Yeah, that. What gives?"

She glanced at him and held out the nail file. Max shook his head with a grimace.

"What would I want that for? Especially after you've used it!"

"Gee, I don't know, Max. Maybe I should get you a brand new one. You know, so you can file your fangs next time you decide to play Dracula!" Isabel hissed.

Shit, Max's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "What did they say? Who heard us?"

"Do you not remember Dad's middle of the night water?"

"Of course, yeah, but it wasn't even midnight, Isabel!"

"Well I guess he was early, Max, because he saw your girlfriend in her jammies and figured out the rest from what she said to you. All of which I got quizzed on this morning, thank you very much, because they said they'd give you space," she remarked disgustedly.

"What did you say?" Max wanted to know.

"What do you care? You don't want to tell them anything!" Isabel accused.

Max checked over his shoulder to make sure it was clear then spun the steering wheel, pulling the Jeep to a stop on the shoulder of the road. He glared at Isabel.

"What. Did. You. Say?" he enunciated carefully.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. I said that they already knew you were in love with Michael and Liz both, and yes they both know about each other, and no nobody's upset about that. As for the rest, you're all consenting adults and it's not really any of Mom and Dad's business beyond that."

"Oh," Max replied blankly, his anger draining away. "Uh—thanks."

"You're welcome," she snapped then relented and smiled a little. "Max, you have to talk to them. They're just worried about you. They want you to be happy, that's all."

"I am," he declared.

"Yeah, but they don't know that. Without you explaining it to them, all they see is the weirdness. And even so, they're being scarily open-minded. It, uh, it kind of makes me wish we could, tell them other stuff," Isabel finished quietly.

Max reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "Izzy, we—"

"I know, we can't," she cut him off sadly.

"I'll talk to Mom and Dad about my relationship, all right? I will," he promised.

"OK," Isabel nodded, flashing a brief smile. "Let's go, Max, or we're going to be late."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

All day Max had been moody and restless, unable to concentrate on anything. He told Michael and Liz what had happened, not finding much amusement even in Liz's blushes. They agreed that Max had to tell his parents something, and so here he was, pulling into the driveway after school with his stomach tied in knots and his palms sweating. What was he going to say?

Max entered the house, not seeing any sign of his parents. He looked around then just as he'd figured out they must be in the back yard his mother came in the back door.

"Oh hi, sweetie! I thought I heard the Jeep. How was school?" Diane asked as she poured herself and Max some lemonade. He took the glass from her with a nervous smile.

"School was fine. Is Dad here?"

"Mmm-hmm, he's just watering the flowerbeds. Ah, there he is now," she smiled at her husband.

"Can I get one of those too?" Philip asked, indicating the lemonade. Diane nodded and poured a third glass, handing it to him. He collapsed onto a chair at the table and Max joined him.

"I am glad that I take short days on Mondays. Much as I love my job, going back in after a glorious weekend isn't my idea of fun," Philip smiled.

"Yeah. Um, could I talk to you guys?" Max asked hesitantly. He didn't miss the quick look that his parents shared at the question and it started his blood simmering as his mother joined them.

"Of course, Max. What's up?" Diane inquired with concern. She reached out to touch Max's arm, retracting the gesture when Max flinched away slightly.

"I want to know why you grilled Isabel this morning about my sex life instead of just coming to me," Max announced bluntly. He wasn't going to beat around the bush anymore.

His raw honesty took his parents by surprise and they simply sat there for a moment, apparently unsure of what to say. Eventually, Philip took a deep breath and tried to answer Max's question.

"Max, son, we weren't trying to go behind your back or anything. We just thought—we had already made it clear to you that we would back off, give you some space. But after I saw Liz last night, I—we're just concerned, Max."

"We don't want anyone to get hurt, honey. I know you said you love them both and they know that, but it's a little unusual, Max. We're your parents and we love you. We only want to make sure you're doing the right thing, that you're happy," Diane continued Philip's thoughts.

Max took a deep breath and counted to ten before opening his mouth. "I am happy, Mom. Happier than I've ever been. And no one is getting hurt by this. I know it's kind of weird, but it works for me. For all of us. Can't you just trust me?"

"We do trust you, Max! It's only that it's you're young, Max, and you might not understand what this kind of back and forth stuff could do to a relationship. You say that Liz and Michael are OK with sharing you, but do they really understand all the implications of that? It's hard for us to just stand by and say nothing, when you might be making a big mistake," his mother explained earnestly.

Max looked from one worried face to the other and fought down the hysterical urge to laugh. "So you sneak around and check up on me instead of confronting me directly."

"We shouldn't have done that. We should've just asked you," Philip admitted heavily.

Max smiled tightly. "Well, I'm here now. Ask me. What do you want to know? Ask me!"

They sat silently, exchanging another one of those knowing looks, and suddenly Max snapped, his iron grip on his temper dissolving. He pushed the chair back and stood up, glaring at them.

"How about I answer the questions anyway, since I know what you want to ask. Am I sleeping with them both? Yes! Do they know that? Yes! Does it bother them? No! We have the occasional misunderstanding but that happens in all relationships, no matter how many people are involved. Oh and yes, Liz and I are careful. She's on the pill and we used something else until that was effective. So you're not going to become unexpected grandparents. And no, I am not about to give either one of them up. I love them both too much.

"Does that about cover it?" he asked angrily. Max saw the shock on both their faces and he wanted to kick himself for blurting it all out like that, but he simply couldn't take it anymore. When they both remained silent, he sighed.

"I'll be at Michael's if you need me," he told them, and then headed for the door.

On the drive over, Max kept replaying the scene in his head and getting even angrier, only at himself now. Michael wasn't likely to understand that as well as Liz would have, but Liz was working and staying home was not an option at the moment.

He parked and went into Michael's building, bursting through his front door to find Michael sprawled on the couch watching television. Michael looked up at the intrusion.

"That good, huh?" he asked sympathetically.

"I completely lost it, Michael. They were sitting there, being all calm and concerned and trying not to pry, and I just yelled at them and bolted. So yeah, that good," Max said disgustedly.

Michael put his bag of chips and the bottle of Tabasco on the coffee table, rising from the couch. "What did you say, Maxwell?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I only said the stuff we'd already agreed on. Nothing about you and Liz. It's not what I said, it's the fact that I pretty much screamed it at them when they were trying to be nice and then fled," Max started to pace back and forth in the entrance area after he locked the door.

Michael watched him, listening to Max's self-derogatory muttering with half his mind while the other half was appreciating the view. Max in full fury was something else, the energy crackling from him as he moved. His movements were graceful and purposeful; catlike and altogether gorgeous.

"God, you're sexy when you're pissed!" Michael inadvertently voiced his thoughts aloud. Max stopped pacing and simply looked at him. The immediate hunger in his gaze made Michael shiver with desire.

They stood as if frozen, eyes locked in a silent exchange of messages. Then abruptly Max was in motion, striding to Michael's side and pulling off his clothes. He kicked off his own jeans, dipping one hand into the pocket first to retrieve the disguised tube of lubricant. Max squeezed out a generous amount then bore Michael back onto the couch, reaching between Michael's legs and fingering him, working the slippery gel in and around his opening.

"Christ!" Michael swore at the suddenness. Satisfied with what he'd done, Max withdrew his hand and lifted up enough to whip off his shirt before crawling up closer to Michael and devouring his mouth, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with Michael's. When he pulled back, both men were breathing hard.

"Michael," Max panted, shifting awkwardly to frame Michael's face with his hands. "I can't be gentle, not tonight. I'm too—we can go do something physical, one on one in the park or something. Or I can take you. Now."

"Max," he whispered, his hips lifting almost of their own volition, his legs spreading wider to better accommodate Max's body between them. Michael felt electrified by the dark current running through Max, and he didn't want to stop. He smiled at the fleeting grin that Max bestowed on him before leaning down to kiss Michael with bruising force.

"That's my Michael," Max murmured against his lips, the possessive tone flooding Michael's senses. He moaned, seeing how the quiet sound made the gold flecks in Max's eyes spark into flame. Drawn to that shimmering fire, Michael kept his widening eyes trained there as Max thrust inside, pushing deep. Max was usually so careful about easing himself in slowly that to feel his full, rigid length instantly buried in his body was a bit of a shock, and Michael cried out.

"Did I hurt you?" Max asked, worry and desire thick in his voice. Even as he spoke he thrust again, and Michael arched beneath him.

"N—no," he gasped out. "Doesn't—ah—hurt."

"Good," Max breathed. He reached down under the leg Michael had propped against the back of the couch, hooking Michael's knee over his own arm and bringing it up and over his shoulder. Max stared down at Michael as he drove even deeper, enjoying Michael's soft sounds at the increased penetration. He bent forward, licking and nibbling at Michael's neck and ears. "You're beautiful like this."

"What? Like—ah—what?"

More golden fire blazed at Michael in Max's answer. "So ravished."

Michael's breath hitched and his hands moved restlessly over Max's naked back, pressing him closer. He felt a yearning for something just out of reach and he needed more; needed Max deeper still. Michael lifted his free leg a little, rubbing his knee along Max's side in invitation.

"Soon," Max promised breathlessly. "Right now I need my hand for something else."

Michael arched his head back with a low cry as Max slipped his hand between their sweaty bodies to stroke his cock. It flashed through his mind that Liz must have felt a little like he did, with Max's hands on her in a twin rhythm. Michael moaned at the vividly remembered imagery and was about to say something when Max beat him to it.

"You're Liz's Michael too," he murmured huskily. "I'm learning, Michael, to share you. Share you both," his breath was warm against Michael's exposed throat. "But Liz can't do this to you, Michael. This is mine."

Michael verbalized a wordless agreement as Max kissed up along his jaw and over to Michael's mouth for a prolonged taste. His tongue invaded, probing inside in a wicked imitation of his hard cock, and Michael's tension spiraled a little higher in Max's hand as that rhythm increased, too.

Max pulled back enough to whisper, "But she did say that eventually, she'd like to try your end of this." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he waited for Michael's reaction.

"She what? Liz? Said that? When, last night?" Michael blurted in shock.

"Yeah, last night," Max answered, pressing light kisses to Michael's neck and face. "And yes, Liz, and yes, she really said it. She was trying to see whether I'd freak or go for it, before anything like that ever happened," he chuckled.

"What'd you say?"

"What do you think?" Max half smiled, thrusting meaningfully inside Michael.

"I would have pegged you for a hypocrite," Michael teased back.

"Mmm, not a good idea to make smart remarks when I've got a hold of your privates," Max smirked.

"Oh yeah? What're you going to do about it?" Michael challenged, smiling.

Max's answer did not include words. He squeezed Michael's cock in a vice grip while he tongued his nipples, licking at the stiff little peaks until Michael squirmed. Then Max reversed his actions, sucking hard on Michael's nipples as he gently fondled his testicles.

"Oh God, Maxwell!" Michael dug his short nails into the taut skin of Max's buttocks in instinctive reaction, his hands flexing when Max returned to stroking his cock.

"She asked what I thought you'd say, too," Max murmured devilishly, kissing his way up Michael's chest.

"And?" he couldn't bring himself to say more, not when each rough caress and kiss had him almost to the edge. Max lifted his head and met Michael's eyes.

"I said I thought you'd flip her over and take her, no questions asked. That didn't seem to bother her any," he raised his eyebrows eloquently. "Nor did my desire to watch."

"You—oh—ah!" Michael cried out as he bucked in Max's hand, warm fluid spilling in release. Max stroked him to completion then removed his hand, capturing Michael's free leg and bringing it up to join the other, sandwiched between their shoulders. The aggressive position forced Michael's hips up further and Max braced himself, regarding Michael with a slightly worried expression as he withdrew almost completely from Michael's body then slammed back in, reaching incredibly far—farther than he ever had.

"Max—well," Michael groaned.

"You OK?"

"Yes," he hissed, and Max chuckled. He thrust in again and again and Michael closed his eyes, helpless to stop moaning with every deep penetration. The sensation was indescribable, like Max had touched some core part of Michael. Max settled into a fast rhythm, driving hard into Michael, and with each thrust their abdomens slid together with little friction, lubricated with sweat and fluid. The slippery caress coaxed Michael's cock semi-erect as it blended with Max's heavy thrusts.

Bent double, Michael could only take what Max was giving him and use his hands to encourage him further. It felt like Max was climbing inside, joining them together somehow. A part of Michael was amused and embarrassed by his escalating noises but he ignored that, losing himself in the intense pleasure of Max's lovemaking.

"You should do it first," Michael panted.

"Do what?" Max asked raggedly, continuing to scatter kisses everywhere he could comfortably reach.

"Liz…flipping Liz," he moaned.

Max stopped his incessant tasting of Michael's skin and Michael opened his eyes to meet his incredulous ones. "Michael, I thought—I was trying to not—"

"I know," Michael cut him off. "But you have the patience, to make it—ah—amazing for her, like," he hesitated then finished, "like you do for me."

"Michael," Max breathed, emotion flooding his face. Michael grimaced a little, not entirely comfortable with the naked love shining from Max, and with an understanding smile Max toned it down. "I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying yourself," he added more playfully, teasing Michael about his unusually vocal manner.

"Funny," Michael retorted, smiling back. His smile vanished in a loud gasp when Max thrust even more powerfully inside him.

"Oh, Max," he murmured. "You're in the wrong place, and I don't even have the right one, but you're definitely hitting a sweet spot."

"Yeah?" Max raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, yeah," Michael answered fervently, returning Max's instant grin then closing his eyes again as Max continued to pump harder.

Between Michael's unexpected admissions, his exhilarating sounds, and the sheer intoxication of his body, Max was awfully close to the edge, too. He dipped his head to kiss Michael deeply, plunging his tongue into his open mouth to twine together with Michael's. Finally, feeling himself on the cusp, Max raised his head and whispered, "Look at me, Michael. Look at me."

Michael's eyes fluttered open, to be caught in the intensity of Max's gaze. He could feel Max's body tightening, driving into his own with renewed vigor, and the love and desire in his face drew Michael in. Not really even erect after his previous release, nonetheless Michael let out a sharp cry as the insistent stroking of Max's cock inside his body brought them both to orgasm.

Max groaned, a deep, guttural sound as he felt Michael's cock jerk against him at the same time that he emptied his seed into Michael. Not losing their eye contact until the last possible moment, Max lowered his head to kiss him tenderly, allowing his lips and body to express the feelings that he knew Michael found difficult to hear verbalized. He thrust a few more times, gently now, then shrugged so that Michael could put his legs down.

Gingerly Michael moved his legs, carefully placing them on the couch with his ankles over the back of Max's calves. Once Michael seemed reasonably comfortable, Max pulled out and rested as much of his own weight as possible on his knees and elbows, kissing Michael again before he spoke.

"I definitely feel better after that. You?" Max inquired archly.

"Uh-huh," Michael agreed.

"Thank you, for understanding and well, everything."

"You are welcome. In fact, I think you should get angry more often. Maybe Liz and I could take turns pissing you off," Michael teased gently, letting him know that it was all right. That all of it was all right.

"Yeah, there's a thought. I can take turns ravishing you after you piss me off, is that it?" Max grinned.

"More or less," Michael admitted with a smile.

"You're crazy," Max accused. He sighed, sobering. "I really have to go. My AP History exam is tomorrow and I need to get some more studying in. I simply had to get out of the house for a while first, blow off some steam."

"Well, there wasn't any blowing involved but you did get off," Michael stuck his tongue out as Max started laughing.

"I think that falls into Liz's category of 'Crude but accurate,'" he replied. "Speaking of, I'll call her and tell her what happened with my parents after she's done working tonight."

"Yeah, all right," Michael agreed. Max levered himself off the couch and cleaned his own body; Michael waved him away.

"Nah, don't bother, I'm going to have a shower now."

"OK," Max smiled as Michael continued reclining on the couch, watching him dress. When he was ready to go, Max leaned down and kissed Michael goodbye.

As he withdrew and stood up straight, preparatory to heading out, Michael's voice drifted to his ears.

"When you talk to Liz, don't forget to tell her that her theory was right."

"What theory?" Max asked, turning with his hand on the doorknob.

"That angry sex with you is fucking awesome!"