Tanner: the holiday party

I'm switching to male POV for Tanner's account of Claire's POV threesome. The details are a little different, exploring cuckold themes with the interracial and virginity kink. Let me know what you think.

“You have someone in mind we can approach tonight, Tanner?” Deion asks, scanning the ballroom like he’s running a tactical assessment. My best friend is back from the Middle East on leave, my plus-one for the company holiday party.

“I do. Patience.” I glance at him, then down at the obvious bulge in his pants. My butt is still sore from last night. Deion’s dick is huge!

He catches me looking and grins. “I know why you’re walking funny tonight.”

“Yeah, let’s keep that between us,” I say, laughing. It’s only funny because I trust him with everything, including our secret.

If the night ends with me on my knees for him again, it’ll still be a win. But we’re only gay for each other, and we scratched that itch yesterday. I’m straight, believe it or not.

Deion is just along for the ride tonight. He’s a tall, fit black guy, broad shouldered, easy smile, the kind of presence that makes half the room turn their heads. We’re both 27 and served together in the Marines. He’s still active duty, while I moved into the civilian world last year. I’ve trusted him with my life in places where trust wasn’t optional.

Our motives with women are usually different. We both want to get laid, but I’m ready to date again after a rough breakup a few months ago. I want something real. Deion’s job keeps him overseas, so relationships aren’t his thing.

“There,” I say, nodding toward the lone figure failing to blend in or get noticed. “Claire. Software engineer. She’s also in my church singles group.”

Deion chuckles. “Yeah, she’s your type.”

“Tall?”

“Innocent,” he says. “Nerdy. Shy. Very you.”

He’s right. I’ve wanted Claire since she introduced herself at church with a soft voice and uncertain posture, like she wasn’t sure she belonged. We’ve been flirting clumsily since. It's sweet.

"She moved here recently. I even met her parents at church when they visited. She comes from a good family. She doesn’t realize how great a catch she is.”

“It seems nobody else does either,” he says.

I shake my head playfully. “Well, she has great tits, so that might interest you. Come on, let's get a closer look and I will introduce you."

Deion is right. I've not seen one guy hit on her since we arrived. This party has a dozen bubbly, outgoing women in their twenties with tits practically spilling out of tight outfits. But Claire hides her sexuality. She leans in a loose top to hide her full, natural breasts, as if shrinking from her competition. Her long skirt downplays her tall Dutch legs and that awesome ass I’ve ogled in jeans. I've watched her slim down with maybe a few extra pounds to go, all distributed in the right places. Her face glows, beautiful eyes and light makeup, long light-brown hair with some body. She's adorable.

I recognize the diamond in the rough. Her mistakes are why such a lovely, high-value woman is single and being ignored at this party. Claire is smart, driven, with real morals and a solid work ethic. She doesn’t shine the way the flashier girls do. She glows quietly, the kind of shine you only notice up close if you’re looking for the real thing: the intelligence, the morals, the sexuality simmering beneath that modest exterior. I’m the only man who sees it all. And once I do, I can’t look away.

She's sexually repressed from high morals and a church upbringing, low body count for sure, probably never explored much. She just needs the right push, the right men, to crack her open. Claire is absolute wife material. The kind I could build a life with. And tonight, we're both going to fuck her raw.

Deion will break her in first, give her that rush she's too innocent to chase on her own. Every modern woman has that quiet curiosity about a black guy. He'll stretch her tight pussy with that huge black cock, dominate her in ways I never could, make her moan and gasp and beg in a voice she's never used before. Then she'll be primed, grateful, and mine to keep.

She grabs a drink at the open bar, a good sign she’s loosening up. At our Baptist church events, nobody would be caught holding a beer. But here? Different crowd, different rules. Most people are a few drinks ahead already and showing it. After the banner year our firm is celebrating tonight, we all deserve it.

“Claire!” I call as we approach.

Her face brightens instantly, lighting up like someone turned on a switch. We hug, warm, friendly, and I let it linger so she knows I’m happy to see her. Her breasts press into my chest, stirring me instantly. Her cheeks flush when we pull back.

“Claire, this is Deion,” I say. “We served together. He’s in town for a couple days.”

“Your plus-one?” she jokes.

Deion laughs and pulls her into a hug. He gives me the faintest of nods as he releases her. Great tits, I told him. He's a believer now.

We talk. She relaxes and warms to both of us. I touch her arm lightly when I laugh or agree, testing the waters. She doesn’t pull away. Deion keeps it lively, teasing me so she sees me through fresh eyes.

I don’t compliment her looks yet, even as I think every second how sexy she is. Instead I brag about her intelligence, how thoughtful our email exchanges have been when we talk about scripture or philosophy.

“You don’t email anyone,” Deion says, incredulous.

“With her I do,” I reply, watching the small smile she tries to hide.

She's having fun. Claire’s not used to being the center of interest, especially not from two confident and handsome guys at once. Her face gets pinker the more she laughs, and our attention soon causes her nipples to harden and poke through her top. The headlights are awesome, and it's fun to see her fold her arms over her tits and blush even more when she notices.

But when she finishes her drink, I catch Deion’s eye. Time to give her space. Let things breathe. Give her a chance to miss us.

“Well, it was great to see you again, Claire,” I say, touching her elbow gently. “I'm going to introduce Deion to the team.”

She's disappointed, I can tell, but forces a smile and says, "It was nice to meet you, Deion. And nice to see you," she adds, touching my arm back.

“So,” he murmurs under his breath once we’re out of earshot, “I can see why you like her. Definitely your type."

We mingle. Deion deserves to flirt with all the hot girls that are more his type, just in case he wants his own action apart from whatever I arrange for us. He gets swarmed and handles the attention with ease, like he’s hosting the party instead of attending it. He could convince any single girl here and half the married ones to have sex with him tonight if he wanted. He's the only black guy here, which seems to only help him.

I keep an eye on Claire. She tries mingling with a group from accounting, then some folks from marketing, but she never quite settles in. She smiles, laughs politely, but she’s clearly adrift. And every few minutes, her eyes flick over toward me.

I notice, but only once do I meet her eyes and smile back.

I’m chatting with one of the sales reps. In this case the eye candy is actually named Candy, and she is exactly as bright and bold as her name suggests. Petite, tits spilling out of her dress, tattoos down her arm, huge personality. She’s an extrovert in her natural habitat, used to and expecting men to notice.

While she talks animatedly, I catch Claire glancing over again. She burns with jealousy, uncertain, maybe comparing herself unfairly. And for a moment I feel guilty, but I know I need to play the game right. She has no idea I want her ten times more than the flashier, looser women around me. I will let her know at the right time.

But the next time I take my eyes off Candy's breasts, I see Claire swiping angrily on her phone. She's definitely a flight risk. Seeing her defeated like that twists me with guilt and hunger. She's mine to rescue tonight. I politely excuse myself from Candy and lean toward Deion.

“It’s time,” I say quietly. “You with me?”

“Always,” he murmurs, falling into step beside me.

She looks up from her phone, and the transformation is instant. Her whole face brightens, eyes softening at the edges like we’ve released her from social exile.

“Hey, Claire. Having a decent time?” I ask.

She nods a little too quickly, and I can tell she didn’t mean to reveal how happy she is to see us. It’s sweet and ****.

“Walk with us?” I ask, offering my hand without grabbing, letting her choose.

She hesitates only a second before slipping her hand into mine, uncertain but trusting. I guide her toward the quieter side of the courtyard, near the hotel’s small water feature and away from drunk and nosy coworkers.

The lighting out here is dim and flattering, also emboldening for our nervous target. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit, but the nerves are from arousal and from fear that we will leave her for someone else.

We fall into easy conversation, mostly joking about our drunk coworkers. Deion chimes in, setting the tone with his laid-back charm, helping her relax even more. Claire warms to us. Her posture loosens, her smile widens, and she laughs with her whole face at our stupid jokes. She feels safe.

Her high beams are back. I guess that's her thing when she's aroused. I glance, then she glances, notices, rolls her eyes playfully, but does not cover them with her arms this time. I grin and move just a little more into her personal space, Deion and I shielding her from the noise and prying eyes of other guests in the courtyard. We are her pocket of calm.

And standing there with her between us, bathed in soft light and December air, I realize I’m absolutely done pretending this is casual.

I want her tonight, more than anyone else here or anywhere.

“Are you comfortable with all this attention we’re giving you, Claire?” I ask lightly, brushing her shoulder with my fingertips. I keep my eyes on hers, not letting them wander where they want to.

She hesitates, then smiles. “Yeah. I like it. I’m just not used to it.”

"You know I like you. I think you're the coolest girl here." She looks like she wants to object, but says nothing. "Plus you're hiding a killer body in that outfit. I respect that you don't want to show it off, but I see you. I see the real you in there, and you're smart, kind, and incredibly sexy."

Deion is nodding. He's fully onboard now and wants to fuck her, too.

Her eyes cast down for a few seconds, the thoughts spinning in her head, then she looks up, meets my eyes, and smiles softly.

"Thank you," she practically whispers. She's ready.

Time to close.

I exchange a quick glance with Deion We should be gentle with whatever we say next. “Claire,” I say, lowering my voice a notch, “we want to ask you something. An invitation.”

"Okay..."

"It's going to surprise you," I admit. "Deion and I would like to invite you to back to my place." Deion and I have done this before, and the direct approach works best. But with someone I respect as much as Claire, it's hard to just blurt out that I want to fuck her and watch my friend fuck her, too. I grin and run my finger from her shoulder down her bare arm, then clasp her hand gently and look into her eyes.

It takes her a few seconds to read between the lines. It's not an offer she gets every day. Her eyes go wide as it clicks, she scoffs and looks incredulous and asks point blank, "Are you inviting me to a threesome?" She's trying to fight it, but the huge smile lighting up her face betrays her true reaction.

"Yes, love," Deion says with a confident smile.

Her mouth hangs open. "Sex? With both of you?" She scoffs, rolls her eyes, half-laughing. "Oh my God," she breathes, gooseflesh flaring in the dim light. She knows this is a bad idea, knows every rule she’d be breaking, but the want is stronger than the guilt.

"Claire... I promise you, you will have the most fun night of your life. And nobody besides us needs to know. We promise discretion. And we appreciate the same from you."

"Yeah, we go to the same church, Tanner!" she shout-whispers.

"Exactly," I say in a lower voice. I squeeze her hand gently. She looks at Deion's crotch, blushes even deeper red, then looks away as she thinks.

I don't know what is going through her mind. But I see her looking at all the women behind us. We've chosen her above all the rest, and she really likes that.

I'm certain Claire is selective about who she fucks. She'd probably make a guy date her for months before sleeping with him, and Deion and I both want the pussy tonight with no strings attached.

But she wants to do this. She wants it so bad.

"Oh my God," she repeats, a whisper now. We both lean in to hear, and I can smell her hair. We give her time. "What if... What if I go and chicken out?" She's smiling now, the biggest smile I've seen on her.

I know we have her now. "It's very low pressure," I say.

Deion nods. "We'll always be respectful. If you're not comfortable, we stop immediately and just enjoy the company. And when I do finally slide inside you, it's with a condom to keep you safe."

Her breath hitches, and I can practically feel the shiver run through her. She looks back at me, eyes wide and glassy, like Deion’s words just painted a picture she can’t unsee. "We'll take great care of you," I say. My finger is lightly tracing her bicep now, and I see more goose flesh flare up to my touch.

I mean every word. Claire can stop any time with zero resentment from me. She trusts me, and that's what tips the scale. She pauses, but she knows her answer. "Wow," she says finally. I arch my brows playfully at her. "I can't believe you guys are seriously asking this."

"So is that a yes?"

Her grin is adorable. Predictably, she caves. "Yeah. I'm in."

I'm laser-focused on Claire: