“Fuck, hurry, man,” is all I can gasp out.

Zeke spreads Livvie’s thighs wide. Meanwhile I continue to pinch and torment her nipples. He enters her slowly.

“You okay?” he checks.

Her head bobs lightly. Livvie’s in another plane right now where she’s all nerve endings and feelings. Words are hard.

I can feel him on the other side of the thin membrane as he slides home. The air in the room disappears. I enter the same plane Livvie’s on where there’s nothing but her sweetness filling every sense I have. Her scent fills my lungs. Her taste is on my tongue. Her cries of pleasure are all I hear. Her pink skin and lush blonde hair are all I see. That and her love. It shines around this room, seeps into my veins, engulfs my heart.

On the other side of her sheath, Zeke begins to move. I follow, entering when he withdraws, pulling out when he thrusts forward.

Livvie makes small, desperate whimpering noises. She might have formed words, but I can’t make them out as I climb toward utopia. Her asshole grips me like a vise and my thrusts grow harder, more rapid. Zeke matches my pace.

We move in harmony, harder and faster, racing toward the bright sun of ecstasy until it bursts like a shower of comets, raining pleasure down on the three of us. My come pours into her ass as she convulses around me.

“I love you!” I shout. Zeke yells out the same words, an echo of mine. Her cries join his until it’s just an endless reverb of our love.

* * *

After gifting the Alpha Gamma frat house to the Political Science club, we settle into a routine. For me, that consists of practice, football, four classes, and loving Livvie. The last one is the most important. She seems happy. She’s smiling a lot.

Zeke asks her how she can be in a good mood when her classes are so damn boring.

“Because I know you’re behind me suffering,” she teases him.

Zeke’s routine is to follow Livvie around during the day and write code at night. He’s not ever going to graduate, but he doesn’t care. Between the money from his software sale and my impending NFL contract, we’ll all be set for life.

Sundays are the best because it’s my one day off. Zeke and Livvie make sure to get all their shit squared away so we can spend the day together. This Sunday is a special one. We’re asking Livvie to marry us over Christmas break. First, though, we have to talk to the moms.

They’re both worried about us and how we’re going to make this threesome work. On campus, we’ve been able to scare everyone into silence. The eviction of the frat boys shook people up. But we go off-campus—to eat, to drink, to buy groceries. Off-campus, we can’t control strangers. It’s too big. The world’s just too big for us to threaten, intimidate, and otherwise protect Livvie like we want, which means there are going to be arrows slung her way. We do what we can to make sure that the barbs don’t sting too hard, and Livvie seems to be at peace, which is all that’s really important.

Now, if we can only convince the moms of this.

“You ready, bro?” I rub my sweaty palms across my sweatpant-covered thighs.

“No.” He looks pale as he fiddles with the camera.

Livvie’s passed out from a good round of early morning fucking. We worked her extra hard in hopes she’d stay sleeping while we did this.

“That’s encouraging,” I say sarcastically.

He throws me an irritated look. “You’d know if I lied, so what’s the point? I’m nervous as hell. If one of them says no, we’re going to disappoint someone we care about and I don’t like that.”

It would be the moms we’re disappointing because at this point there’s no going back. Not that there was ever a point where we were going to give Livvie up.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say, as if I’m not sweating bullets myself.

Zeke clears his throat four times before finally dialing our mom. He barely has time to settle in beside me before she answers.

“My babies,” she coos. “My sweet babies.”

“Ma,” I complain. “I’m not a baby.”

“You’re my baby. You, too, Ezekiel. How are you two this morning? Did you go for your run, Leviticus? I hope you’re not spending too much time in front of your computer, Ezekiel. Are you wearing your glasses like you’re supposed to? Your eyes look tired.”

Zeke rubs a hand across his forehead. “I’m fine, Ma. And, yeah, I’m wearing my glasses.”

He looks tired because we were up for four hours, trying to wear our girl out. You’d think that one tiny female wouldn’t have that much energy. You’d think that, but you’d be wrong.

“Then you need to get more sleep. How is our Livvie doing? Are you guys taking good care of her?”

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