Fucky Fun and No Taboos: Joey Hard and Cody Cummings

So I ended up in this thing that I’m still replaying in my head—it was a bisexual threesome that just sort of happened organically, you know, the way the best crazy nights do, and the energy from the start was this wild mix of nerves and pure raw want that none of us tried to contain. It was me and this super laid-back redhead I’d been seeing casually, and then Cody Cummings showed up with his big, easy smile, and let me tell you, the math just suddenly worked in ways I hadn’t even planned for. We started out all hands and hushed laughs on the couch, that kind of lazy touching that slowly turns into something else entirely, and then one kiss landed in the wrong—or exactly right—place, and nobody paused to overthink a single damn thing. The redhead was giggling while she worked to unbutton Cody’s jeans, and I just leaned over to trail my mouth along the ridge of Cody’s cock through the denim, while her fingers still fumbled near mine in this deliciously tangled clusterfuck of heat. Her taste on his skin, his wanting reach toward both of us, the back-and-forth rhythm until it felt less like three people juggling and more like this seamless driven thing rising across the flat cushion and then to the floor, breathing heavy, giving real purpose to Joey Hard and Cody Cummings working together and combining our strokes, passing redhead spit between swollen lips, lost to noon light with no crossed line she didn’t already silently write my name at with each wildly carried moment of grip and tired joywork.