Cover of Throuple Threat

Throuple Threat

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13 chapters · 4172 words · Read 2 times

A spicy, teasing, highly charged poly romance between roommates. Anthony “Ant” Ramos (22, Scorpio, Bushwick, Puerto Rican) is bold and dominant, Jasmine “Jazzy” Cepheus Jones (21, Cancer, Brooklyn, black/white mix) is quiet-sweet but a confident switch, and Nomi Moore (20, Pisces, ATL) is a sensitive, goofy, introverted, overachieving content creator (900k YouTube subscribers) and ultimate sub once she feels safe. Nomi is parentified, having raised her siblings and a neglectful mother while excelling academically and graduating early. She’s moving to NYC to finally live for herself. Janthony’s dynamic is secure and open, but both are intensely possessive and jealous over Nomi. Nomi is instantly attracted to them, flustered by their physicality, and often unwittingly pushes their buttons, which fuels her arousal. She’s inexperienced romantically and sexually, with unexplored kinks like choking, overstimulation, and Daddy play. Nomi tries serial dating to cope with her feelings, oblivious to how badly Janthony wants her.

Chapter 13: Breakfast of Champions

The sharp scent of curry couldn’t mask the salt-and-sex smell hanging over Nomi’s kitchen. Jazzy’s hand, slick with Nomi’s own wetness, pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, keeping her bent over the cool laminate countertop. “You taste so good, baby,” Jazzy murmured, working two fingers deep inside her, a relentless rhythm that made Nomi’s thighs shake.

Ant’s belt buckle clinked as he stepped forward, his still-hard cock brushing her swollen lips. “Open up,” he said, his voice a low rumble, and she did, letting him slide past her teeth. He fucked her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes, each one hitting the back of her throat until her eyes watered. Jazzy’s thumb found her clit, a rough, circling pressure that coiled a scream in Nomi’s chest, trapped by Ant’s girth. “That’s it, take it all,” Jazzy whispered, her breath hot against Nomi’s ear as her fingers curled upwards, hitting a spot that made Nomi’s vision blur.

Ant’s pace in her mouth turned punishing, his hips snapping forward. “Gonna come down your throat,” he grunted, his fingers tangling in her hair, holding her still. Jazzy pinched her clit, sharp and sudden, and the dual sensations tore a ragged moan from Nomi that vibrated around Ant’s shaft. He groaned, his body stiffening, and the first hot pulse hit her tongue, bitter and thick. She swallowed convulsively, tears streaking her cheeks, as Jazzy’s fingers drove her over the edge right after, a silent, shattering climax that left her limp and trembling against the counter. Ant slid out with a wet pop, gently smoothing her hair. “Fuck, Nomi,” he breathed, looking at Jazzy over her head, a silent conversation passing between them. Jazzy slowly withdrew her fingers, bringing them to Nomi’s lips. “Clean them,” she said softly, and Nomi did, her tongue lapping at the mixed taste of herself and Jazzy’s skin. The high hum of the refrigerator finally registered again, a mundane anchor in the wrecked quiet. Nomi stayed where she was, forehead on the cool surface, feeling utterly split open and, for the first time, completely whole.

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