Chapter 2: Threesome in the Downpour
The cold was a razor against his skin.
Brandon stood under the makeshift shower, head bowed, letting the icy runoff from the tin bucket pound against his shoulders and neck. It wasn’t cleansing. It was punishment. His mind replayed the firelight on Gabby’s calm, unreadable face. You are going to think about what you really want.
He wanted to disappear into the frigid spray. He wanted the water to scald him clean. Mostly, he wanted to rewind time to before the bottle spun, to the easy fiction of his life.
The shower stall was just three weathered plywood walls nestled in a thicket of salmonberry and young firs, open to the forest on one side. A single solar lamp, nearly depleted, cast a sickly yellow glow over the damp wood and moss-slick stones underfoot. The smell of wet earth and decaying fir needles was overpowering.
He heard it before he saw anything: a soft, muffled giggle, then a shush. Footsteps on pine needles, careful but not stealthy.
He froze, water streaming down his face. “Hello?”
The foliage at the open side of the stall parted.
Karina stepped into the dim, golden light.
She was naked. Water from the shower’s spray caught her immediately, beading on her sun-kissed shoulders, running in rivulets down the defined lines of her stomach. Her curly brown hair was already dark with dampness, clinging to her neck and breasts. Her eyes locked on his, wide and dark and utterly without hesitation. There was no trace of the panic from earlier. This was a different woman—fierce, resolved, and on a mission.
Behind her, Andreia appeared, a pale, freckled ghost with a cascade of wet red curls. She was also naked, her amazing body glistening, her expression a mixture of wild mischief and sharp intent. She smiled, a slow, predatory curl of her lips.
Brandon’s breath vanished. His body went rigid, but not from the cold. “What are you—”
Karina didn’t let him finish. She closed the three steps between them in a heartbeat, the moss silent under her feet. The cold spray drenched her, but she didn’t flinch. Her eyes dropped from his face, down his chest, his stomach, to his flaccid cock, hanging limp between his legs under the onslaught of icy water.
She didn’t speak. She simply sank to her knees on the rough, wet stones.
“Karina, don’t—” The protest was weak, automatic, and died in his throat as she reached out. Her fingers weren’t tentative like they had been at the fire. They were sure, wrapping around the base of his shaft. Her touch was a brand, hotter than anything the feeble sun lamp could produce.
She looked up at him, water dripping from her lashes. “You wanted this,” she stated, her voice low and rough. It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. “You said it. In front of everyone. You pictured it.” Her other hand cupped his balls, squeezing gently, possessively. “So here it is.”
She lowered her head and took him into her mouth.
The heat was shocking. A deep, wet, all-consuming heat that cut through the numbness of the cold water and the shock of their arrival. Her mouth was soft and demanding all at once. Her tongue, flat and firm, licked a hot stripe from his root to the tip, then swirled around the head. He gasped, a jagged sound torn from his chest. His hands, which had been hanging at his sides, clenched into fists.
He was soft, but her mouth was a sorceress. She worked him with a focused, hungry intensity. Sucking lightly, using her tongue to press and tease the sensitive spot just underneath. Her hand pumped the base in a slow, steady rhythm. Within moments, he felt the blood surge, the inevitable, traitorous hardening under her skilled ministrations. He grew in her mouth, thickening, lengthening, until he was fully, achingly erect, pressed against the roof of her hot mouth.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the plywood wall with a thud. The conflict—the guilt, the fear, the loyalty—was being physically swallowed by her. All that was left was sensation.
He felt another pair of hands on him then. Cooler, smoother. Andreia pressed herself against his back, her full, heavy breasts flattening against his wet skin, her hard nipples digging into his shoulder blades. Her arms snaked around his torso. One hand slid over his stomach, fingers tracing the grooves of his abs. The other hand slid lower, through the coarse hair, and found his, already wrapped around him alongside Karina’s.
“Look at her,” Andreia whispered in his ear, her voice a hot, excited breath. “Look at your wife’s sister sucking your fucking dick. It’s what you dreamed about, right? While you were grilling burgers at the family BBQ? While you were passing her the fucking potato salad?”
Her words were filthy, precise arrows hitting their mark. They ignited something deeper, darker. He forced his head up, looked down. Karina’s eyes were open, watching him. Her cheeks were hollowed with effort. A thin strand of saliva mixed with pre-cum glistened on her chin, washed away instantly by the shower spray. The sight was the most obscenely beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Andreia’s wandering hand left his cock, which Karina now owned completely. Her fingers trailed lower, over his perineum, and then further back, probing. He stiffened.
“Shhh,” Andreia soothed, biting his earlobe playfully. Then her finger, slick with her own wetness or the shower’s runoff, pressed against his tight ring of muscle. He jerked.
“Easy,” she murmured, her voice laced with a smile. “Just seeing how far this fantasy goes.” She applied gentle, insistent pressure. The invasion was shocking, a bright bolt of taboo pleasure-pain that made his toes curl on the slick stones. His cock jumped in Karina’s mouth, and she hummed in approval, the vibration traveling straight up his spine.
Andreia worked her finger slowly, just the tip, a maddening tease. Her other hand slid around his hip, down his thigh, and then back up the inside. She cupped him, her palm hot over Karina’s working hand, a dual claim on his aching flesh.
“Gabby sent us.”
The words, breathed into his ear, hit him like a physical blow. His eyes, which had been locked on Karina’s, snapped shut.
“What?” he choked out.
“She sent us,” Andreia repeated, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial growl. She withdrew her finger, leaving him feeling strangely empty. Her hand returned to his stomach, then slid down to cover Karina’s head, her fingers tangling in the wet brown curls, encouraging her, guiding her. “After you went to your tent. She came to ours. She told us what you said. All of it. She asked if we were curious. If we wanted to… test the hypothesis.”
Karina pulled off him with a wet pop, gasping for air. A string of saliva connected her swollen lips to the angry, purple head of his cock. She looked up, her eyes blazing. “She asked if I wanted to finally stop pretending,” Karina spat, her voice thick with emotion. “She gave me permission.” The word was a bitter gift. She leaned forward and licked a broad stripe up his shaft, her eyes never leaving his. “So this isn’t cheating, Brandon. This is a fucking experiment. Your wife is the scientist. We’re the lab rats. And you…” She took him back into her mouth, deeper this time, until he felt the head nudge the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, then relaxed, taking him deeper.
Andreia’s hands were everywhere. One pinched and rolled a nipple. The other was between her own legs, and he could hear the slick, frantic sound of her fingers working her own cunt. “She wants to see,” Andreia panted, grinding her hips against his back, “if you can handle what you wished for. If the fantasy is better than the wife. If you’re just a talker, or if you’re a doer.”
The raw, brutal truth of it unmade him. Gabby had orchestrated this. This wasn’t a secret betrayal; it was a sanctioned execution of his own desire. The last vestige of resistance melted. A dark, guttural sound ripped from his chest. He let his hands, which had been fisted at his sides, finally move.
One tangled in Karina’s wet hair, not guiding, just holding, feeling the muscles of her jaw work against him. The other reached back, groping blindly, finding the curve of Andreia’s ass. He squeezed hard, pulling her tighter against him. He could feel her wetness smearing against his lower back.
“That’s it,” Andreia moaned, her facade of cool teasing cracking. “Yeah. Get fucking greedy. It’s what you wanted.”
The rhythm became frantic, a wet, slapping symphony under the hiss of the shower. Karina bobbed her head, taking him impossibly deep, her throat opening for him. Andreia rutted against his back, her fingers a blur between her legs, her other hand clawing at his chest.
Brandon was a vessel filling with lightning. The sensations cascaded—the hot, tight suction of Karina’s mouth, the soft, slick friction of Andreia’s body, the cold spray shocking his skin, the forbidden, wife-sanctioned reality of it all. The coil in his gut tightened to a screaming point.
“I’m gonna—” he warned, his voice a ragged strip of sound.
Karina didn’t pull away. She redoubled her efforts, her hands cupping his balls, squeezing. Andreia bit his shoulder, hard. “Come in her mouth,” she commanded, her voice husky with her own approaching climax. “Feed your fucking fantasy. Show us.”
The command was the final trigger. The orgasm erupted from him, a violent, mind-blanking surge. He cried out, a raw shout lost in the dripping forest. He pumped his hips forward, holding Karina’s head in place as he spilled himself down her throat in thick, pulsing ropes. She took it all, swallowing convulsively, a low, satisfied moan vibrating around his sensitive flesh.
As his own climax subsided, he felt Andreia shudder violently against his back. A high, sharp cry escaped her lips, and her whole body went rigid, her nails digging into his skin as her own orgasm ripped through her. She slumped against him, panting.
The world rushed back in—the hiss of water, now feeling arctic again. The smell of sex and pine and damp wool. The trembling in his own legs.
Karina slowly released him, pulling back. She knelt there, catching her breath, his spend glistening on her lips. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes never leaving his. The fury was gone, replaced by a hollow, spent look. She looked devastated. And satiated.
Andreia peeled herself off his back, her breathing gradually slowing. She reached around, gave his now-softening cock a playful, proprietary squeeze. “Not bad, lab rat,” she murmured, but her voice lacked its earlier bravado. She sounded tired.
Without another word, Karina stood up. She turned, picked up a dark towel from the ground where she’d dropped it, and wrapped it around herself. She didn’t look at him again. She just walked out of the shower stall and disappeared into the dark.
Andreia leaned in, kissed his shoulder where she’d bitten him. “The scientist will want a full report,” she whispered, then followed her cousin, leaving him alone under the freezing spray.
Brandon slid down the plywood wall, his legs unable to hold him. He landed on the cold, wet stones, the water drumming on his head. He felt gutted. Used. More satisfied than he’d ever been in his life. And utterly, terrifyingly lost.
He had handled it. He had done exactly what he’d fantasized about.
Now he had to go back to camp and look his wife in the eye.