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 6: Double-Teamed

The air in Nomi’s bedroom was thick with the smell of sex and sweat, a heavy perfume that clung to the skin. Ant’s thrusts were a relentless, punishing rhythm, each deep drive punching a choked gasp from Nomi’s throat. “You take it so good, mamí,” he grunted, his hands vise-tight on her hips, the slapping sound of skin on skin obscene in the soft light. Jazzy watched, her dark eyes glinting, before she leaned down and captured Nomi’s mouth in a slow, possessive kiss, swallowing her whimpers. When she pulled back, her voice was a hot whisper against Nomi’s lips. “You feel that? Every inch of him. That’s yours.” Nomi could only nod, her world narrowed to the brutal fullness splitting her open, a sweet, burning stretch that danced on the edge of pain. Jazzy’s hand slid down her trembling stomach, fingers finding her slick, swollen clit with unerring accuracy. The dual sensation—Ant’s deep, pounding possession and Jazzy’s precise, circling pressure—unraveled her. A broken cry tore loose as her back arched off the mattress, her body clamping down around Ant in a sudden, violent ripple. “Fuck, she’s coming already,” Ant growled, his rhythm stuttering as her tight cunt gripped him. He didn’t stop, riding out her convulsions with rough, shallow pumps that drew the pleasure out into a sharp, endless wire. Jazzy laughed, low and thrilled. “Again,” she commanded, her fingers never slowing. “Come for us again.” Overstimulated, raw, Nomi sobbed, her nerves alight, as Ant leaned over, his breath hot on her ear. “You belong to this dick, don’t you?” She gasped, “Yes,” and he snarled, “Say it.” “I belong to you,” she cried, the words tearing from her, and he slammed home, his own release roaring through him with a guttural shout, filling her with pulsing heat. He collapsed beside her, breathing ragged. Jazzy gently pulled Nomi onto her side, facing her, and kissed her forehead, a stark contrast to the fury of moments before. In the quiet, Nomi trembled, utterly spent, the echoes of possession thrumming deep in her bones.

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