Filled

One day Timothy's live-in girlfriend Marya comes home with a mysterious old-fashioned video casette. What Timothy sees on the tape shocks him into realizing that their ho-hum sex life is about to change, and that the sweet and playful Marya is not as innocent as she seems. To help his girlfriend explore her sexuality, Timothy follows her down a path of sexual mind games meant to drive him toward a startling truth: He may not be as conservative and straightlaced as he thinks, either. Surprised by his own unexpected desires, Timothy surrenders himself completely to Marya's ultimate fantasy: To be shared by two men who also desire each other. Timothy doesn't know if he's a top or a bottom, or if he's gay or straight, but what he does know is that he loves her ... and wherever Marya takes him, he will follow. Words: ~20,000. This title contains graphic sexual scenes: m/f, m/f/m, m/m, femdom, cuckolding, reluctant bisexual submission, toy play, mild BDSM, voyeurism, and exhibitionism. Do not read this work it if you find such themes offensive. -- EXCERPT: She gave a full, wet little smile. He knew she was anticipating doing all the things she’d done to David, to him. Silenced, he stared at her. She walked past him to the phone on the other side of the bed. She picked it up and dialed. He watched. On the other end, someone spoke. “Hi, it’s me. You’ll be here on time, yeah? Yes, now.” She hung up, and looked at him. He began to fear who she had called. Her face had a glow, an expectant brilliance to it. She gave him a secretive smile. While she waited, she sat down on the bed, then rolled onto her stomach. He had a full view of her on it, her legs loose and open, her flesh poised, nubile, fresh and smelling faintly of her crisp and lightly citrus perfume. Her bare toes wiggled, and her left leg lowered. She was within touching distance. Her shin landed on the edge of the chair arm, and her ankle hit his wrist. He raised his fingers, finding that the rope could slide forward and backwards, but that was it - he didn’t have the distance to raise or lower them. His thumb brushed the bone of her ankle, and she giggled, rolled over, looked over her spread body, raising herself up on her elbows to look at him. She said nothing. Just stared at him for what felt like forever. Every second that passed made his heart pound harder in his chest. Eventually, the doorbell rang. She got up slowly, and walked out at the same snail’s pace, so that he could see every inch of her. Prolonging the torture. He knew who was at the door.