Submitting Together

The relationships in this story are not, and are not intended to be, depictions of healthy relationships.

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.

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In my early twenties I worked nights at a dingey little dive bar. It wasn't the best job, but I needed the income. And it was nice to work with my boyfriend, when our shifts aligned. Caleb was behind the bar and I did table service. On Fridays and Saturdays the bar we'd run a full crew. But on the quiet weekdays there might only be three of us. And sometimes, if things were really slow, someone would pop off early and it would just be Caleb, me, and a few regulars.

One of these regulars was Bill.

Bill was a bit of a lech. I'm sure he fancied himself a ladies' man. But he must have been in his mid forties, and what once may had been boyish charm, hadn't aged all that gracefully. Or maybe it was a generational thing. Misogyny was falling out of style, after all.

Bill was bad enough that some of the girls actively avoided waiting on him. Or, when they did, they'd immediately skitter back behind the bar to whine to me, or Caleb, about how Bill stared down their shirt, or grabbed their arm, or called them "sweetie." The latter was always the most unforgivable.

I didn't know why the other girls always came crying to Caleb and I. We couldn't really do anything about Bill's behavior. Or, at least, we didn't know what to do. Bill was a big guy. And while I dearly loved Caleb, my knight in shining armor, he was not. He was slight of frame, and only an inch or so taller than me. Plus, he was from an immigrant family, and his olive complexion sometimes made him a target. It left him wary of confrontation. Don't get me wrong. Caleb was a wonderful boyfriend. The partner and emotional rock I needed at this time in my life. He just didn't have the tools to swoop in and save me from Bill's attention. And I never did ask him to.

He did try. Once. Caleb offered to bring Bill his drinks directly, and I watched from behind the bar as some words were exchanged. It wasn't an angry exchange. Caleb never did angry. Occasionally, with me, he'd do disappointed. But usually there was a placating kindness about him. It didn't seem to have the desired effect on Bill though, because while I couldn't hear what was said, I could see Bill's big hand as it reached around to squeeze Caleb's ass. To be fair, Caleb had a wonderfully squeezable ass. Something his work slacks, pulled tight in Bill's grip, only accentuated. But I was still surprised that Bill, given his otherwise dated demeanor, was interested in squeezing it. At the time, I'd written it off as some sort of dominance play. And since Caleb didn't much want to talk about the incident, it was easy to almost forget it had happened.

The eventual status quo was that, wherever possible, I would wait on Bill. His antics simply didn't bother me as much as they did the other girls. Maybe it was because I'd been a late bloomer. It wasn't until my college years that I'd realized it was the gym, not starving myself, that was the answer to my particular chemistry of baby fat. So I imagine I was more tolerant of Bill, because there'd been times in my life where I'd have given anything to draw such attention, even if it was from a creep like him.

Bill, for his part, seemed to interpret my tolerance as interest. And you know what? I'll admit it. I did grow a begrudging affection for him. We got on pretty good terms, and developed this game of sorts where every day Bill would try to shock me with a new joke, each more vulgar than the last. And when he pinched my ass I only got really angry if I thought the other customers might see.

I wasn't the only apple of Bill's eye though.

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"I feel like I should tell you, Bill propositioned me tonight," Caleb said, on our walk home. We did our best talking on these walks. Since we got out well after closing time, the streets were mostly empty.

"Like, he asked if he could make a pass at me?"

"Nope. Me. I think he even offered to pay for it." Caleb was smug, shooting down my conceited assumption.

"Really? I didn't think he- Wow. What did you say?"

"That's the thing." My boyfriend's smugness evaporated into the slumbering night. His walk took on a bit of a shuffle. "I told him I'd think about it."

"I panicked! I didn't know what to say," he added quickly when I stopped walking altogether.

Briefly, I considered being angry with Caleb. He'd kissed boys in college, I knew. So he didn't automatically get a pass. But this was Bill we were talking about. Skeevy, occupational hazard, Bill. I didn't really think Caleb wanted to cheat on me with anyone, especially him. But still, something wasn't right. Caleb wasn't telling me something.

"You're not considering it, are you?" I tried.

"Not exactly," Caleb said.

-----

A few weeks later, just before closing time, I gave Bill his cheque. And then immediately retreated to Caleb, where we both peered over the bar at him. I'd altered the cheque. By hand, I'd added two new line items. Both read, "Services Rendered," and were priced at $100 each. At this time, that was real money. It would be a serious boost to our, rather soggy, financial waterline.

When Bill almost immediately got up and left, I had to admit, I was crushed. Relived, but crushed. I told myself it was for the best. Who could know what this crazy idea Caleb and I had gotten into our heads might have done to our relationship? Or even our lives in general? But still, when the door shut behind Bill, I also felt something slipping through my fingers. I looked to Caleb, and he just gave me a little shrug. I think there was something similar behind his eyes.

But Bill came back. He arrived just as I was about to lock the front door for the night. He'd just gone to the ATM. A fact made apparent by the twenties he fanned at me.

"What. No dirty joke?" I said. But I blushed anyway as I took the money and stuffed it into my apron.

I finished locking the door; double and triple checking the shades. When I turned around, Bill had found himself his usual seat. Caleb was still in the back, but I was alright with that. This part was going to be awkward, and one less audience member would be just fine with me.

By the time I made my way to Bill, my mouth was dry and I was taking short quick breaths. I tried to calm down but even though Bill just sat there watching me, my chest felt tight, like he was already wrapping me in a crushing bear hug. I looked at him, assessing a little more closely than I had before.

Bill was not an unattractive guy. I wouldn't call him a silver fox or anything. But he wore clean business casual clothes, and seemed in decent shape. His hair was short, but styled, with an even smattering of grey that extended only to the edges of his beard. All in all he looked like any man who'd wandered into our bar after a long day at the office. It was really just his demeanor that had given the other girls the ick, I decided. So when he started to open his mouth, no doubt to say something crass, I moved almost out of panicked instinct. I dropped to my knees.

I looked up at Bill with something akin to shock, my palms on his thighs. He, on the other hand, lacked even the common the decency to suppress his big satisfied grin. If he'd had any doubts about what he'd just purchased, I'd just shattered them. I had to look away. Being ogled was one thing. But the look Bill gave me then, like the holidays had come early, was too much. And, frankly, it was concerning. I'd expected a little of my own wide eyed bewilderment reflected in his. But instead, I saw an alien confidence that I could never imagine mustering were our roles reversed. He's paid for this, I realized. And so, now he thinks he deserves it.

While crouched between Bill's legs, if I wasn't going to look him in the eyes, there was really only one other place to look. I stared dumbly at the tenting in his slacks. I blinked once. Squeezing my eyes shut hard and long, like I was about to take a great leap into the unknown. Before reaching for the belt buckle in front of me. Bill lifted himself slightly off the chair to let me pull down his pants and briefs. I decided to do them both at once. No doubt he interpreted this as eagerness. I was just thinking maybe the cold wouldn't be so bad if I jumped in all at once.

Not unlike plunging into ice water, it was a shock to my system to suddenly have a strange cock bobbing in my face. Bill was mostly hard, with only the tip looking like maybe it could muster a bit more, if the occasion so warranted it. Unlike Caleb, he was circumcised. And he had some public hair, that it seemed he trimmed a little. His is salt and pepper greying extended down there too.

"Even my doctor doesn't look at it that long," Bill said.

Caught by the letch himself, I flushed immediately. The heat spread to my upper chest, and I knew without looking that Bill was watching red bloom across my cleavage. It made make me feel naked. Which was silly. Since Bill was the one with his privates out. But his cock wasn't showing any signs of second thoughts. If anything, the head had grown a little bigger.

The moment hung. And as much as I willed it away, my blush stayed firmly in place.

There didn't seem anything to do but reach out for Bill's cock. And then, not wanting to bear the further embarrassment of Bill complaining, "I paid $200 for a handy?" I licked my lips and took him into my mouth.

Bill was bigger than Caleb. Not by so much that I thought Caleb would be embarrassed. But enough that I had to concentrate on opening wider than I'd become accustomed to. Bill let me set my own pace at first. Which was good. I'd tried to collect as much saliva as I could, but still had cotton mouth from the nerves. At least, until I felt Bill's heartbeat on the back of my tongue. Something about that always sent my body into motion, and this was no exception.

When Bill grabbed my ponytail I braced for the worst. But instead of pushing me down on his cock he pulled me back and tilted my head until I had no choice but to look up at him. He held me close to him at an awkward angle, low so that my back had to arch and my lips pressed right at the base of his prick. It bumped wetly against my nose and forehead, an out of focus distraction as I looked questioningly up at Bill. "Where's your boyfriend?" he asked.

"In the back." My voice was strained. He'd really twisted me up. But I didn't hate it. It was nice to feel controlled. That was one of the reasons Caleb and I had devised this little plan. We struggled to give that to each other. "You should call him," I added, surprising myself with my own eagerness.

When Caleb joined us, indeed summoned by Bill's yelling, I was bobbing up and down on Bill's cock again. I wanted to look over at my boyfriend, to see his reaction, but Bill had his hand on the back on my head. I would have to fight him to extract myself. And I wasn't going to do that.

"Hey bud," Bill said.

Whatever Caleb said back was too mumbled for me to hear. But he must have taken things in stride, because in moments I could see his slacks in the corners of my vision. And then Bill was coaxing him up on his lap.

Bill had Caleb straddle him, facing me. So that I was kneeling between both of their legs. I got a respite from my duties while they positioned. Bill eventually reclined enough that Caleb was sitting above his groin. His cock pointed demandingly at me from between Caleb's thighs, spread as they were by the bigger man's. It even left a wet streak along the crotch of Caleb's pants when it popped into position.

I was nervous to meet Caleb's eyes, unsure what he'd think of me, so clearly enjoying my submission so far. But he gave me a nervous, understanding, smile that made me feel, not for the first time, that maybe we weren't so much soul mates, but that we were simply one soul. The same wiring, in two different bodies.

"I love you," Caleb mouthed to me. And I was about to mouth it back when Bill's hands found my own, and guided them to Caleb's belt buckle. I settled with just blowing my boyfriend a kiss, before getting to work on his pants.

They say girls aren't as visual as boys. But the image of Caleb and Bill, naked cocks practically stacked on top of each other, so close I could kiss them, will stay with me forever. Bill found my ponytail again and pulled me in. I didn't know which of the two he wanted me to suck, but I was ready and eager, regardless.

He guided me back onto his cock. Rougher this time, he pushed me down until I had to grab the base of him as a stopper. But his other hand was soon there, prying my fingers loose. I let him. To his credit, Bill didn't immediately try to jam my head all the way onto his member. But he did hold me there, right at the limit of what I could comfortably take, until I made a little whining plea for clemency. Even then, he only let me up most of the way, so I had to suck in air around the head of his cock before he encouraged me back down again.

"Did you know your girlfriend could suck cock like this?" Bill's voice seemed to come from a great distance above.

I was glad I couldn't see or hear my boyfriend's response. I was acutely aware that we'd only just started, and Bill was already enjoying a far sloppier treatment than I'd ever given Caleb. I worried that if I looked up I might see some questions behind his eyes. Questions I myself didn't know the answers to. Not that this was the time to answer them. I had plenty to distract me. Bill pushed me down with increasing insistence. With him half way down my throat, I was afraid to try swallowing, and soon spit dribbled out the sides of my mouth, collecting on my chin. At that point I figured I didn't have much dignity left to lose, and opened myself fully to Bill.

The technique for taking a cock into your throat, at least in my experience, is a simple one. You just move your tongue forward, like you're going to stick it out. And everything will line itself up. That being said, taking a cock is only one section of the puzzle. The breathing, and not gagging, pieces are important too. They are also, far tricker. While I'd dabbled with deepthroating in the past, my white knuckled clutching of Bill's thighs betrayed that I was an apprentice at best.

"Oh darling," Bill muttered in surprise when I opened up to him. Those words of praise, coupled with the feel of him sliding seemingly endlessly along my tongue, made the discomfort worth it. Though it was indeed a discomfort. Not only was my breathing rationed and my gag reflex on a hair trigger, but Caleb's own cock rubbed awkwardly and humiliatingly against my face with every bob. And maybe this isn't the sexiest thing to share, but both Caleb and Bill had clearly spent full days at work. There was a musk down there that I could have done without.

Bill only pushed me deep onto his cock a few times before letting me up. I felt a royal mess gasping for breath, sucking in as much spittle as air, and nearly choking on it. Leaning back on my knees, I chanced a one-eye'd peek at Caleb and found he was looking down at me with some mixture of concern and awe.

"Fuck that's good," Bill said. "Wanna try buddy?"

I didn't need to wait for Caleb's answer. I was immediately leaning in, determined to give him at least as good as Bill had got. Not that I had any choice it turned out. Bill was intent on controlling my pace and depth on Caleb's cock, just as he'd done on his own. If anything, he was more insistent, levering me down harder, and holding me there longer.

"Look at your boyfriend," Bill told me. So I did. I watched Caleb's wide eyes through my own watery vision as I took him deeper than I ever had before. Each time he bumped along my tongue like a runaway train I was amazed there was even any more to take. At some point I gave into the feeling and started to moan, it just felt right.

As he basically fucked Caleb with my head, Bill talked to him, asking him if he liked it and making him say, "Thank you." Not to me of course, but to Bill. Caleb, for his part, seemed hesitant to discount my contributions. But he didn't outright refuse any of Bill's instructions. Though he did start to have trouble keeping up the conversation. When he got fully glassy eyed, looking more through me than at me, I knew he was ready to cum. As another indicator, the ramrod assaulting my mouth had become impossibly hard.

"I'm close," Caleb whispered. And Bill immediately pulled me off him. I wanted to collapse on the ground. But I settled with propping my elbows on my boyfriend's thighs.

Bill didn't let me rest though. Reaching easily around Caleb he pulled me to my feet and placed Caleb's hands on me. As they worked together to undress me, I was almost too focused on recovering from near asphyxiation to be embarrassed. Almost.

Feeling Bill's hands on my naked ass was a strange mixture of thrill and shame. In my mind I'd somehow divided Bill into two different people. There was the skeevy real version of Bill. But there was also the sexually charged, domineering, man whose cock I'd just been sucking. And who was making me feel all the delicious submissive feeling I'd forgotten I missed. But Bill's hand on my ass brought back all the times he'd snuck a quick pinch or squeeze. And it was like my two impressions of him smashed together into one. Suddenly his cock, thicker than I was used to, and sticky with my drying spit, seemed very threatening beneath my bare thighs.

As Bill drew me forward, and encouraged me to spread my legs, I almost stopped everything. Or at least, might have tried to. The only thing that stayed me, was the realization that I wasn't actually being positioning me for his cock. But for Caleb's.

Caleb, sitting on Bill's lap, was too elevated for me to raise myself over him. But Bill's hand on my bum gave me the lift I needed to swing my legs over Caleb's. The first was no problem, but lifting my second leg left me hanging for a moment, supported only by Bill's hand and Caleb's arms, which he'd reflexively wrapped around me. We teetered for a second. And I considered the poor barroom chair, now suffering the weight of three bodies. But it held valiantly, and I found that even with my legs spread by the men's thighs, the chair was low enough that I could support myself on my tiptoes.

Caleb's cock was warm and still slick as it pressed against my outer sex. Unlike Bill, Caleb was always shaved smooth, and he must have touched himself up this morning, because I slid against him easily. My hips gently gyrated of their own accord, and I appreciated that there was no stubble to bite at me. It was a familiar feeling. With his hardness laid against me, trapped between our bodies, I knew just how to angle myself to massage my clit along the underside of his cock. Caleb was so hard, and the spit I'd left on him lubricated us so well, that I could easily have humped him to both of our orgasms. But surely that wasn't what Bill expected of me. My body knew exactly the moves to make. Knew just how Caleb and I fit together. A long slide against his cock. A deft shit of my hips. And he was there, poised at my opening.

When nobody else said or did anything, I succumbed to my baser urges. Reaching between us, I guided Caleb into me. My assistance was hardly necessary. He was well lubed, and I was prodigiously wet. I took him tip to hilt in one go, sighing happily at the familiar heat. Caleb wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in even closer, so I was half standing, half leaning against him. He made a noise I knew well. He wouldn't last very long.

"Hey there just a minute, you greedy lovebirds," Bill said. And I almost reflexively hopped back off my boyfriend. But it turned out Bill just wanted to reach his hand between us. He slid his big palm over my bum again, and traced the crook my thigh until he found where Caleb and I connected. Some of his fingers wound around the base of Caleb's cock. Others pressed slickly against my vulva. The result was a strange foreign invader in the otherwise familiar space where our bodies fit together. "Now sweetheart. Let's feel how a little sex kitten like you makes her boyfriend cum."