...and That's All There Is To Say About That.

Needing this on my feed 🫠

Austin Butler training for Dune Part Two. Credits: iTunes Extras.

This is such a cute idea 🥰

The devil on my shoulder like:

CORRUPT HER BENNY

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

sweet talkin’

main hive 🐝 | next part here: honey, are you comin’?

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which “uncle benny” picks up johnny’s girls from school and finds some honey along the way ;)

warnings: not much of anything besides talks of danger & some side eyes from on-lookers. an absolute fluff cake of a piece really. enjoy! x

author’s note: ngl there is some inaccuracies. i fully made up locations & such. never been to chicago or illinois even, but maybe someday :)

word count: 2.8k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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You remember it like it was yesterday, the very first time you met Benny Cross. Ironically, it was one of those sticky sweet days in June, just before the start of summer ‘65. The Chicago heat was hard to beat in the cramped little classroom you worked in on Phipps Avenue. Your third graders were all flushed faces with curly cues frizzing about, and their red little cheeks burned in exhaustion. It was no surprise that you lost their ears to the tsk tsk tsk of sprinklers swirling about on the school grounds. Even though the principal was against it, you were rather relieved to see your students running about the wet grass come dismissal.

It was a lovely reprieve, truly to be out of the shoe box you worked in at the end of the day. Sure, the heat hadn’t let up. It was awfully sweltering passing clammy hand to clammy hand to their designated pick up person. But you loved being a teacher. Moreseo you loved those sweet turned up smiles that graced those baby faces of your students as they chatted about their after school plans. Heading down to the local pool or picking up a firecracker pop at the corner store was such a sweet treat. It made you miss being that young again, finding hidden treasures through the little bits of life.

You moved like clockwork during dismissal, attentive as you made small talk with parents and hugged your students goodbye. The pick of the cycle was usually smooth on your part. You knew who tended to be retrieved right away and who was left hanging, so it took you by a hint of surprise when you found yourself still hand in hand with Mr. and Mrs. Davis’s little girls.

You knew the Davis’s well — as well as anyone could holding residence in the quaint village of McCook, Illinois. Mr. Davis and his wife Betty were perishoners at the local church you frequented with your Ma and Pa. St. Caron’s on the corner of Rose and Dawn. You’d see them all together in their Sunday best, the kids in puff pastry kind-of dresses packed together in a pew with their Ma, while their Pa was mulling about in his pressed suit and tie. There was no trace of the Vandals you’d come to know, the Johnny that would be amplified under that some-what imposterous clean cut demeanor. You’d see him solemn as ever ushering pew to pew with the collections basket for the poor and at communion during the mass.

Yet, if you had to name one thing that complimented Johnny to Mr. Davis, it had to be his consistency with being on time. Never once was he ever late to church. 12pm sharp he’d be looking at his watch, waitin’ for the priest and deacon to do their thang. The same applied for his children and their respected school schedule.

It took you a moment to remember the note from the office that was sent up in the afternoon. In your defense, mastering concentration in this heat proved almost impossible. Until it wasn’t. You could see the lovely writing of the secretary with that neat cursive of hers in the back of your mind, reminding you that the Davis girls would be picked up by their Uncle Benny come dismissal.

That would explain it, you thought. But would it really? Fathoming a member of Mr. Davis’s family not being as meticulous as him? You momentarily wondered how the man would react to such a thing as being late. You were sure it wasn’t in his vocabulary by any means.

Your fingers, engulfing the petite ones of the Davis girls, squeezed their hands reassuringly. “M’sure your Uncle Benny will be here any moment.” Neither of them said anything as you glanced between the two flanked at your sides, little eyelashes blinking up at you without a care in the world. And here you thought they would be just as anal-retentive as their father.

They weren’t.

Since the school yard was becoming less compact with people, and the principal put an end to the fun with the sprinklers, you figured some chit-chat wouldn't hurt to keep them occupied. “You girls have any fun afternoon plans?”

The Davis girl on the right, taller, darker hair, lookin’ far too much like her father — a carbon copy if you will — spoke up then. “Yes! Uncle Benny is takin’ us to a picnic. Gonna see Daddy race his bike, Miss. Honey.”

A bike race, huh? You couldn’t remember seeing anything in the McCook weekly papers ‘bout an upcoming cycling event. But, hey maybe you happened to miss it on your skim of the thing, when your Pa just so happened to put it down for a second durin’ dinner.

“Well, ain’t that sweet!” You chirped, smiling brightly at the girls with genuine excitement in your eyes. “Sure it’ll be tons of fun.”

“S’not when Daddy gets all muddy.” The smaller girl, the one that looked more like her mother. Lighter hair and lighter eyes said. Her tiny face contorted into a grimace.

Muddy? Weren’t cycling races on the roads?

Surely the town would block off the streets like they did for those celebratory parades. The little one was probably exaggerating.

“Aw,” you hummed, a frown dousing your features. “M’sure your Pa is just real dedicated, y’know?” You tried to bring out the bright side for your student. “S’like when you buy a fresh book and worry about those pages dentin’. Y’won’t know if you like it if you don’t read it, right?” The girls nodded. “Dentin’ the pages just goes to show all that love you had for that book while readin’ it.”

“I guess…” The Davis girl shrugged, tiny fingers wrapping about the strap of her pretty pink backpack. Seemingly, she wasn’t as impressed as her sister to the right.

You were gonna change the subject. Gonna start chatting ‘bout something else, when a twist of tiers against the pavement sent a squeak across the air. Your mother-hen instincts kicked in instantly, protective hands pulling the girls behind you without a second thought. All heads turned simultaneously to the intrusion on the road, expecting the worst. Expecting a crash of sorts. But no, there was no crash, just a slick car pulling abruptly up against the sidewalk and jerking to a startling stop. One that could only be equated to the driver going far above the speed limit in a school zone.

It went quiet. Far too quiet as the lot of remaining faculty, students, and parents alike kept their eyes peeled back sharply at the reckless driver. Funnily enough the attentive stares of onlookers could have very well been just as bad as those witnessing an actual crash.

You weren’t any better than the rest, collecting snap shot after snap shot like a roll of consecutive film. You could still hear the engine cutting out, the door swinging open and closing with a solid flick of his wrist. A wrist that would do far worse to you in the bedroom. Far worse in the eyes of your religious upbringing, but would feel too holy to you to be considered a sin.

You only caught a glance of him for a second until his back was facing towards you, thick white letters staking his claim with a skull and crossbones for the Chicago Vandals on his cut down vest.

You’d heard a thing or two about those motorcycle men. Your father ranting and raving about the disturbances near route 95 and police chases. But never, had you ever seen one of them in the flesh up close and personal. A shrill of unprecedented delight shot up your spine at the colorful sight, no longer reserved to those blurry black and white paper cuttings.

Stopping in his tracks, you figured his car must have broken down or somethin’ – but no. He was putting out his cigarette with his worn down boot before making his way over to you, and oh he had his eye on you alright.

A relative unease wahed across the school yard, harder than the obvious heat wave as he sauntered across without a care in the world. As if dozens of heads weren’t makin’ disgusted faces and whispering about. Yet a clear intimidation set over them, people stepping out of the way without a word as if he was a Bible figure. Like Moses parting the red sea.

“Uncle Benny!” One of them chirped. Who you didn’t know, couldn’t know with the sudden flush creeping against your cheeks. Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who it was and that the man himself with dirty blonde scruff, calloused fingers, and a black inked layer over a honey toned canvas was makin’ a beeline to you. A beeline to you and the girls.

It was the taller Davis girl that must have called out his name, cause suddenly she was pulling you and her sister forward to meet Benny half way. You almost tripped down the stairs within the broken bubble of her excitement. Barely having a moment’s notice to collect yourself, you found your pristine baby pink ballet flats toe to toe with some scruffed up biker boots that had seen better days. You managed a breath before you looked up and boy were you glad you did.

The wind was practically knocked clean out of you when you were caught face to face with the Benny Cross. It wasn’t because you were scared of him — no. You were more taken aback with how pretty he was. How his deeply set ocean eyes managed to speak volumes without saying a word.

And suddenly, on the front steps of Phipps Avenue School you felt seen. More seen than you had ever felt in your life. He wasn’t the only one sticking out like the sorest of thumbs. So were you with your baby pink tank to match your shoes with your signature embroidered denim overall dress. Hair up and out of your face, loose honey curls frizzing about. Your kitsch tastes and unpolished attire were rather baffling for the picturesque depiction gracing the magazines your Ma read at the salon.

Some would say you were lost somewhere in Neverland. Lots of your fellow teachers would crack jokes here and there ‘bout it too. Sure, on a bad day a jab or two could get to you — but hey you liked what you liked and you weren’t gonna change that. Not for anybody. Not even for your Ma or Pa who grimaced at your bedazzled pins wedged into your messy curls during Sunday mass.

So Benny, well who were you to judge him?

“Hi, you must be Uncle Benny,” you greeted the brood of a man in front of you, flexing a sweet-like-honey smile that was just oh-so-you. You let go of the Johnny look-a-likes hand then, allowing her to wrap her small self around Benny’s leg in pure delight to see him as you outstretched your hand in a shake. To your dismay, he didn’t take it. Instead, his free hand that wasn’t mushing up Johnny’s girls dark locks as he patted her head fished for his pack of Marlboro reds in his vest pocket. That didn’t stop you from introducing yourself though. “I’m Miss. Honey.”

He gave you once over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before the edge of his lip tweaked up in a sly smile. “Honey, huh?” He mused, that deep set voice of his, thick and smokey sweetin’ up something deep inside you.

Dropping your hand back down against your dress, the material felt rather rough on your clammy skin. “Yuh-huh.” You nodded, that tight smile of yours making your eyes twitch just a bit.

A fresh cigarette materialized between his teeth then, unlit. A strange courtesy you found rather charming on the midst of educational grounds. “Hm,” he hummed, the narrow cylinder vibrating against his lips as his eyes devoured you a second time. Yet, you figured he was more unimpressed. Most were anyways.

“Benny! Benny! Can we go see Daddy now?” The girl wrapped around his leg yanked his belt loop with a small finger. The little one was still at your side, hand in hand with you. It was kind of amusin’ how different the two were. It was simple figuring out who was the bigger Daddy’s girl of the two.

“In a ‘inute, sweet-art,” he mumbled, that cigarette of his disrupting any fully coherent sentence from spillin’ out. “C’mere ‘ittle one,” he motioned to the shorter girl who was rather uninterested in leaving. In the midst of your conversation, she managed to keep her hand raised, keeping herself conjoined to you as she sat down on the bottom step in complete and utter protest.

“Don’t wanna.” She pouted down at her bunny tied saddle shoes that matched her pretty little pick-tails.

In a sense, you couldn’t blame her. Now it was all adding up. What was really going on. This wasn’t just some run of the mill village cycling marathon. This was a Vandals bike race.

Any other teacher would have probably made a stink, called the parents in for a sit down with the principal over infiltrating their kids in a biker environment infused with criminal records. But, you weren’t like that — no. Especially when you’d see a child’s eyes light up with so much delight. It was clear that Mr. Davis’s look-a-like was really proud of her father. Who could blame her? Respected throughout the community, a family man who put his all into a trucking' job.

A picnic with some bike racin’ wouldn’t be so bad, right?

Not with Mr. Davis involved.

So, you gave the benefit of the doubt. Sure, it could have been for all those reasons that were swarming about your head, but in actuality your heart was working double time over your mind. The image of the Davis girl clinging to Benny’s leg had teddy bear written all over it, giving you all the sweet talkin’ you’d need. Ironically enough, in due time that soft side of him would turn into plushy lovin’ reserved just for you.

“Lemme,” you mouthed to Benny before getting down to the little one’s level. Flattening out your skirt you took a seat next to her and rested both hands over her own in her lap. “Remember when we were talkin’ about a good book? Dentin’ the pages?” The girl nodded, but didn’t meet your eye. Instead, Benny doing the opposite, his eyes practically grilled onto your peripheral vision. “Well, sometimes if we are too protective of it. Too keen on keeping it all in tack, we’ll never learn not to and we’ll just be more and more disappointed when we come across a little crack we never created in the first place. We may not like it, but it’s there, and there is so much love there.” You squeeze the little girl’s hand. “Just like your old man racin’. You may not like it, but he does, and that’s quite alright. You know why?”

“Why?” She looked up at you then, little doe eyes attentive as ever, clinging onto your every word. It was times like this that reminded you why you were a teacher.

“‘Cause you love him, no matter what” You replied, tilting your head ever-so subtly to observe her reaction.

And oh did Benny love you. He didn’t know it then. Couldn’t fully compartmentalize it until later. Yet, unbeknownst to you, it was one of the first of what would become many of Benny's thoughts on how damn good of a teacher you were, how fine of a wife you’d make, and how sweet of a mother you’d be.

Thankfully, your words must have resonated with the little girl. It only took a moment for those delightful dimples of hers to grace those little features before her lips turned up in a sweet smile. “We gotta go Uncle Benny!” The girl declared suddenly, standing up straight with a whole new attitude. You were glad to supply the optimism. That’s what you were all about. That was the lesson you hoped to instill to your students the most.

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, feeling like a warm blanket was being draped over your shoulders soundly. Not uncomfortable. Not contributing to the intolerable heat wave. You’d only been in your second year of teaching, but hey — small victories like this made it worth it. Made you proud of yourself, even if you couldn’t find such gratitude from others.

Little did you know, Benny — he was so fuckin’ proud. Proud to see you spreading such honey-coated wisdom to a youngin’. And there on the steep steps of Phipps Avenue school as the little one wrapped her arms around you and thanked you profusely before grabbing Benny’s hand and heading to Johnny’s car, he found his mission.

You were gonna be his wife.

He was sure of it.

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this was so much fun to write! i hope you liked it :) i’m thinking of also including some honey interviews curtesy of danny ! stay tuned for “from the hive” 🎙️🐝

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝🍯:

@nervousnerdwitch

@sunnbib

@rose-deathman

@austinbsblog

@thegabbyh

@jihyowrrld

@bellesdreamyprofile

@superemobitch

@m00npjm

@imusicaddict

@astrogrande

@alana4610

@cynic-spirit

@mariaenchanted

Count me WHIPPED

"Yeah, that's it" - a compilation

Need more BTS footage of Feyd 🥵🙏🏻🙏🏻

A Feyd related question

Does anyone known the source of this pic/video?

It's not from this scene below. Note btw how much he first looks at her at awe, being impressed. And how about shot later he is filled with urge and desire...

This man is way too adorable for his own good 😭😭😭

Those Austin’s tweets and blogs were so cute😭, my angel has always been such a sweetheart with a beautiful soul💕 (the way he wrote “I’m 16 but I’d be 17 on August” was so baby boy lol)

They're adorable. 🥹

Yes, he's always been a sweet guy. 💕

Even his mirror selfies are wholesome lmao!

I've always loved this old IG post of his.

🥹

You can tell so much from a man about the way they talk about their mum..

He has so much love in his heart for her... it's just really precious to see that her presence is still so strong in his life.

He's really proud of her... and he and his family know she's so proud of him, where ever she may be...

Just a really sweet and wholesome and deeply personal thing to share to others.. and he's so strong for that. Anyone who can open up to another person about something so personal and painful is so strong... it really does show great character.

We should all strive to be more open and honest and vulnerable.

Teeny rant continued...

It must be the biggest achievement for his mother to hear her son say "she's my best friend"... I remember the SNL opening he did, where he talked about him and his mother pretending to be Gollum from LOTR... now see that choked me up... the way he talked about his mother, her passing, and then suddenly I'm thinking about the closeness I have with my own mother, being an only child, her being an only child, neither of us having fathers, my mum having a distanced relationship from her mother... it's literally just the two of us against the world (I'm even getting choked up now)... and anyway, me and my mum ON THE DAILY do Gollum/Sam/Gandalf/Frodo impressions... we have our ups and downs and sometimes I'm not the best daughter and sometimes she isn't there for me the way I need her to be - but we resolve this, we come back together, we fight it out, talk it out and then ask for forgiveness and cuddle... then go back to roaring with laughter.. We're far from perfect and we don't always get on like a house on fire... but I love her so ferociously. I'd kill for that woman.

Anyone who loses a parent at this age... when you're just starting life - bc I've only just really started my life, my career, being me, doing what I want to do... I can only imagine what a fucking stand still it would be. How much you could withdraw, how much you could lose what you've JUST gained... because the main pillar in your life has been pulled away.

It just boggles my mind... no matter how many years, the death of your mother can't be healed- Not that you'd ever want that wound to heal... you'd never want to forget the amount of love you have for your mother...

It just chokes me up everytime, I start getting all sentimental, I do apologise for the rant...

As they say, hug your loved ones because you just never know ❤️❤️

Awww.... he misses his mom so much 😭

Gah--- his smile 😩 Our man is aging like fine🍷

We are being well looked after 🤗

Gotta say, I'm the most excited for Luca Guadagnino and Austin to work together on American Psycho. Such a fan of Christian Bale's version of Patrick Bateman! I can't imagine Austin letting us down, I think it's a role that will push him and make him shine even more than he already does.

I'm even more excited that Guadagnino will be directing, his style is so unique and will be perfect for the POV of Bateman, especially during his manic episodes/hallucinations. Cannot wait!!

Austin's Upcoming Projects

(List Subject to Change as Updates Unfold)

(Gifs created by @austinbutlermischief)

Key:

Pre-Production = ✒️

Filmed = 🎥

Release Date Announced: 📆

Released = ✅️

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Eddington - Also Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Pedro Pascal, Emma Stone (Director: Ari Aster) 🎥

Caught Stealing - Also Starring: Zoe Kravitz, Matt Smith, Vincent D'Onofrio, Regina King (Director: Darren Aronofsky) 🎥 📆 (Release Date: August 29, 2025)

City On Fire ✒️

American Speed Also Starring: Tom Holland ✒️

The Barrier (Director: Edward Berger) ✒️

American Psycho (Director: Luca ✒️ Guadagnino)

Deep Cuts - Also Starring: Saoirse Ronan (Director: Sean Durkin)

Enemies - Also Starring: Jeremy Allen White (Director: Henry Dunham) ✒️

(To be continued....)

Austin as a big leather biker is just too much for me rn 😅😅

Bennys back baby

belle's masterlist:

all my works - I hope you enjoy 💋⚡️ extras

ELVIS PRESLEY:

Elvis Presley Masterlist

one shots

the Presleys - book:

introduction & chapters index

AUSTIN BUTLER:

Benny Cross Masterlist

series 1: benny & y/n series 2: a baby miracle one shots

Major "Buck" Cleven Masterlist

one shots

Austin Butler Masterlist

one shots

It takes three to forget

Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, fellatio, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!), cream pie, 'sloppy seconds', cheating (but also kind of not... sorta?)

Summary: They need to forget from the terrors of the sky. She needs to forget the terrors on the ground. War is hell any way you slice it. But tonight, tonight they are gonna all reach for a little piece of heaven, all three together.

A/N: Thanks to all who voted on the perspective for this story. Third person won out 58% to 42%. For all you first person perspective lovers out there, I will take that into consideration for the next fic I write. Message me or ask me if you have any ideas for me on that front. :)

Just a wee threesome fic with MOTA Gale 'Buck' and John 'Bucky', inspired by @austinbutlerslovers Bucked and Fucked! (what a great title that is!!!)

Here is a link to my Masterlist of stories, should you be interested. Please message or comment if you'd like to be tagged in future works.

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef

It Takes Three to Forget

It was early in the evening on a Friday and she was sipping her drink. She liked this pub as it had ample room for dancing, unlike most traditional pubs in London. They immediately caught her eye when they entered. One was dark, one blonde and both were tall and achingly handsome and both were dressed in the pinks and greens of American officers. They were exactly what she needed, tonight of all nights. She needed to forget, and she did that best with an attractive man between her legs. And here were two gorgeous specimens that wouldn’t care that she was a war-widowed Lady of Means. 

"What do they raise those yanks on over there to make them so damn ..." her sentence peters out as she turns to the empty stools beside her.  Her companions from the WVS had already been swept away by local boys. All of them. She shrugs and prepares to fly solo. These two looked like they needed to forget too. At least one of these boys is coming home with her tonight. What was the saying:  ‘overpaid, over sexed, and thankfully for her,  over here.’

They strolled in, John was happy that he could drag his buddy out for the weekend pass, they both needed it. Needed to forget the horrors of the sky. The sky both of them had once loved so much, yet had become a place of torture that they just had to endure.

"I gotta get you laid Buck," the tall one was saying, slapping the other on the back. "I know, I know, you are loyal to a fault, but you gotta live a little in case you die. I promised her I'd take care o' you, and this counts pal."

They walk up to where she is at the bar and set down their satchels. The blonde one is closest to her. She had casually moved over, leaving her drink strategically on the bar, to create a space for them to order.  

“Whisky on the rocks and a ginger beer,” says the dark one, “what do you say, Buck.”

The blonde one, ‘Buck’ she presumes,  just shakes his head with a little smile, saying nothing. Turning he sees her, his eyes going wide almost in shock.  “Marge?” he whispers.

Dark one follows his gaze. She raises an eyebrow, thinking maybe he is just painfully shy. 

“Well damn,” says the taller, darker one, looking her up and down, “You’ll have to forgive him, Ma’am.  You are the spittin’ image of his girl back home.”

‘Buck’ won’t stop staring at her.

“Oh my,” she says “It’s ok, I understand the longing for someone,” her fingertips brush his hand understandingly, “look all you want.” Her smile is warm and kind and shoots right to his heart. 

“I’m Bucky and this is Buck.” Bucky holds out his hand to her. 

“Interesting, I’m Margaret,” she had stopped introducing herself as Viscountess Ullsworth a long time ago. War made everyone equal.  She takes his hand, he kisses it with a smile.

He is definitely charming. 

She holds her hand out to Buck, still fixed on her face. He shakes his head slightly, finally blinking and coming to his senses.

“Gale, my name is Gale, Major Gale Cleven Ma’am,” his voice is deep and smooth.  

“Well Gale Cleven, Major,” she reaches for her drink and sidles between them, “where is home?” She inhales their cologne, American men smell so good.  Bucky downs his whisky then asks for a double. 

After a few minutes of introductory talk, she turns to Gale. 

“Care to take ‘your girl’ for a spin around the dance floor?” she asks boldly.

“Oh no, he doesn't dance, hates it even. But I love to dance,” says Bucky before Gale can even open his mouth.  He leaves his full drink on the bar and offers his hand to her. 

“Yeah, just don’t let him sing.” Gale smiles. His face brightens as he teases his friend. She likes it, his face like that.  Maybe she shouldn’t try to break this pretty pair up for the night.

“You look good with a smile. Don't you go anywhere” she says to Gale. 

He raises his ginger beer to them as Bucky sweeps her out on the dance floor. He is actually a lovely dancer, not all of the American’s know how to dance. He is fun as well as charming. 

“Are you two in London for the weekend?” she asks as a slow song starts and he wraps his hands around her waist. 

“Yeah, we needed a break,” he says, “flying in war is…. .” he lets the sentence drop. There is no way to make anyone understand the things they have endured. 

“Ah, pilots.” she nods knowingly. “Well that’s completely understandable,” she tries not to think of her own witnessed horrors. “Do you have somewhere you are staying?” 

“Um… not yet, I know a place nearby. We were just stopping in to get drinks first, y’know how it is.” he says shrugging.  “I didn’t expect to run into someone like you, not yet anyway.” 

“What is your given name?” she asks suddenly. 

“Oh, well, it’s John, John Eagan, also Major,” he smiles, mimicking Buck from earlier. 

“Well John,” she ventures boldly, “I overheard you saying he needed to get laid,“ she glances at Gale, he is staring them down. She can’t tell if he’s mad or yearning. 

“Oh uh… sorry about that Ma’am” suddenly less boisterous, realizing he’s talking to a lady, wondering if all his dancing would be in vain, if she was actually interested in Buck. 

“Oh no, nothing to be sorry about. It’s fucking war. To be honest, I also am looking for more intimate company tonight.” She looks him in the eye unabashedly “And I wonder if you need it too. You have ghosts in your eyes John, nearly the same as he does.” She brushes a longer hair back from his forehead. 

“Since we is bein’ honest, yeah, I do. Fucking war,” he slips easily into the vernacular figuring since she cursed first, she brought it up, it’d be ok. 

“Maybe we” looking pointedly at Gale then back to him, “can all help one another?” 

“Wait, like all threes of us? Like at once?” he feigns shock, but  really his heart leaps in excitement. He isn’t really sure why.

“I know how French of me, but I have a lot to forget about tonight and could use more than one… distraction.” 

“Forgive me, but I have to ask, you’re not like a prostitute, are you?” his eyebrows raise, unsure that he should have said it the second it popped from his mouth.

She giggles, other women would be offended, but not her, she’s been through far too much. 

“No, I’m just …. needy today,” is all she can reply. Thinking they don’t need to know about how a year ago this night was when her home was bombed, when she lost everyone that mattered to her, her mom, her husband. The day that caused her devastating miscarriage and subsequent infertility, according to the doctors. She literally has no one left, only the money and country house, where she refuses to go. Refuses because the war effort isn’t there, it’s here, in London. 

“Well that's a brainchild if I ever heard one. I don’t know if we can get Buck on board, but hell, it’s fucking war, we might as well try.” He spins her around with a wide grin. 

“Well, you’ll have to follow my lead, John. Do you think you can do that?,” she says, laughing as he dips her. 

Gale was watching the doppelganger of his girl dance with his best friend. He was confused, pulled in more than one direction. His heart was swelling to see her face in real life, his cock was too. He was jealous that Bucky was holding her waist, leaning down to talk with her. God she even smelled like Margorie, it was uncanny. But his logic was saying it wasn’t her, it was some Brit gal, her voice didn’t sound a thing like his darling, all high class. But lord how he wanted her. He had never been so conflicted in his life. He turns, spies Bucky’s double and without thinking, gulps it down. Making a shuddering face, he orders another, slams it too. He wonders what the hell he was doing, he never drank. He orders another leaving it for Bucky and pays for all the drinks. 

Laughing, they meander back to Gale, his ginger beer in hand. He smiles at her, taking a deep breath. Bucky throws back his double, glancing at Gale. 

“Are you sure you don't want to dance?” She offers again to Gale, a gentle hand on his arm, “we could go slow, just the old hug and shuffle.”

Her smile is kind, warm,  and caring. She is everything he is missing right now. 

“Uh no,.. No Ma’am, thank you,” he can feel the alcohol seeping into his brain. 

“Please I’m tired of formality, it’s Margaret or Margie for short,”  she says. 

Gale, who had taken refuge in a big swig of his ginger beer, spits it out all over the fronts of both his companions. 

“What the fu-” John blurts out. 

Margie starts laughing.

Gale is too shocked to be embarrassed at first. That this woman, who LOOKED like his darling Margorie, smelled like her, moved like her, had the same nickname too? This was more than just coincidental. It was uncanny, bizarre and maybe, just maybe a sign that he really did need this R&R. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry Ma’am,” he reaches into his pocket and hands her his handkerchief. She blots her decollete and down the front of her dress. He watches as she wipes between her breasts, unable to stop thinking about how much he’d like to help her with that. 

John is whipping out his own handkerchief and with soft curses trying to clean himself too. He gives Buck a look of exasperation. He knows why it happened, but that didn't mean he liked it. 

“Alright gentleman,” she bends down and picks up their satchels, passing them to John. She loops her arms in each of theirs, “come on.” She marches them both out the door of the club. Gale is too stunned to protest, plus he is starting to feel the alcohol. Bucky is already one hundred percent in for whatever she has in mind. 

She guides them down the street  and around the corner about a block and a half. She stops at a door, opens it and waves them in after her. “Wait,” says Gale finally, holding the door for her, “where are we going.”

“My flat” she says simply, pointing up.

John pats his buddy’s shoulder reassuringly. Gale shrugs and follows her inside.Gale isn’t sure what he’s doing, but following the swish of Margaret's skirt up the stairs stills all his doubts. 

“Make yourselves comfortable,” she says. Gale sits down on the arm of the couch, while John starts to unbutton his wet jacket.  

“Here let me,” Margaret says, pulling his jacket from his wide shoulders,”I can wash it out.” She turns her back to Gale, “unzip me.” It’s not a request. 

Gale’s fingers shake a little as he pulls at her zipper. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Is what he should be asking himself, but tipsy Gale can only think of her creamy skin under his fingers, on his lips, under his body.

She walks toward the kitchen, her dress gaping at her back and slowly slipping down her shoulders. 

She slips off her dress and sets it and his jacket to quickly soak in the sink. 

“It may take a while to dry,” she calls out. “You know, London weather and all.” 

“That’s alright,” John calls back, “we got no plans.” 

 When she emerges in just her underthings, the boys are silent.

“Um, can I use the bathroom?” says Gale, trying and failing to not stare.

“Yes, it’s through the bedroom,” she says, nonplussed. 

Gale looks at John, who is uncannily quiet. John just shrugs and motions toward the bedroom. 

Gale blows out a big breath, shakes his head and goes. 

“You look delectable,” says John. 

“Thank you,” she steps closer to him, “It’s only polite to match your hostess,” she says, loosening his tie.  

“Yes Ma’am,” he says with a smile, yanking the tie off and starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Let’s surprise him,” she says and motions towards the bedroom. He follows, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake. 

Gale is looking at himself in the mirror as he washes his hands. Seeing Margret in her underwear was so breathtaking. His cock immediately got hard.  His thoughts are running rampant. 

‘It’s not her,’ he keeps telling himself, ‘It’s not Margorie. But it IS her, it might as well be her. Let Bucky have her, leave and let him fuck her. Go find a room and stay there, get sleep, rest, read a book.  Shit 4 shots in as many minutes is 4 too many. What was I thinking?’ 

He is feeling warm, so he takes his jacket off. The picture of John and Margorie naked together flashes in his now drunk mind. He thinks he should be pissed at the idea, but weirdly, it’s arousing. No, that is just wrong. But the two people he loves best in the world? 

“How could that be wrong? It’s not, it’s not at all, as long as I could be there too,” he tells his reflection. 

Why is he having these thoughts? This Margaret out there is a lady, she’d never do such a thing.  It’s crazy. He definitely should not stay. 

“Gale,” he points to himself in the mirror, ”you are gonna walk out of here say goodnight and leave them to each other.” He nods in the mirror and opens the door.

It’s like he stepped into his own crazy fantasy world. There, not 3 steps from him and blocking his speedy exit is Bucky, in his shorts and nothing else. Margie is in his arms kissing him. Her back is to him and she is clad in nothing but loose panties, a bra and a coveted pair of what looks like actual nylon stockings. He stood staring at the two up and down for a long minute. He is kicking himself to leave, but he just can’t move. Hearing the door open, she pulls away from Bucky, turns and takes one step towards him. 

“You are overdressed,” she says gently and softly, pulling at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He is mesmerized by her as she undresses him and makes no move to stop her. 

Shirt and tie fall to the floor, white undershirt over his head. John is just rubbing up and down her back an arms length away. 

“Let me make the moves, you hang back and shut up, though I can tell it’s not your forte,” she had told John, just before she pressed those gorgeous lips to his. It’s like he was kissing Buck’s girl, but not at all. Marge was sweet, but not bold like Margaret. God, if he could find a way, he’d never let her go. He starts to get a glimpse into why Buck was so devoted to his Marge. 

She slides a hand up Gale’s chest and around his neck. Her lips are inches from his own. 

“May I?” she says, eyes flitting between his plush lips and his blue eyes. 

He closes the gap, giving in to his imagination, to his fantasy.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it’s not her. But  fuck it, right now, it’s her.  His arms pull her close as he inhales through his nose. Their lips move in concert, she probes gently with her tongue and meets his own doing the same. She thinks she tastes whisky on his tongue. Which is odd, John said he didn't drink.  But who knows, she didn’t mind a little liquid courage. 

Her hands run down his naked chest, and land on the top button of his trousers. Her fingers deftly undoing them as he deepens the kiss. Her fingers lightly brush his already hard cock through the fabric. 

He moans softly into her mouth as she peels off his bottom layers, teasing him with her fingers. He automatically toes off his shoes.  He is so lost in her kiss, he doesn't even care that his shorts are off, that all he has on are his GI issued socks, or that his best friend is watching all this. He only cares that his hands are full of Margie. 

She pulls away, looking down at his free cock. It’s long and hard and beautiful. She immediately knows she wants it inside her. His eyes are half lidded with desire. His tongue runs over his lips as if to catch the feel of her on his tongue again. 

She holds his hands to her waist, turning to face John. He was still being a good boy and following her directions to keep quiet and let her draw Gale in. John had removed his shorts in solidarity with Gale. His cock was gorgeous too, thicker than Gale’s and just as long, he too, was hard and ready for her.  Standing now between them, she could see just how big a man John was. Alone, Gale was tall, with a lovely set of muscled shoulders and gorgeously trim. Next to John’s wide shoulders and extra two or three inches in height, Gale looks almost small. She wanted them both so much it made her pussy weep.   She reaches for John and he is immediately in her arms with a mouth hungry for her own. 

How different these two kiss. John is full of fire and wanting. Gale is soft, slow and needy. She likes the juxtaposition. 

Margaret brings on hand down to cover Gale’s. His thumbs slip under her waistband. Cocking to one side, she pulls his hand and her panties down over one hip. Gale gets the drift and slowly drags her silken panties down, exposing her naked ass to him. Well, naked but for the garter belt that held up her stockings. Her panties puddle at her feet and she steps out of them, already having kicked off her shoes in the sitting room. 

Gale’s hands run up the perfect line in her stocking. Fuck, they actualy were real, not painted on. He fucking loves stockings, especially their removal.  He’s not seen enough of them, with the war making them so scarce. He was turned on already, but this skyrockets him. 

John’s kiss becomes insistent. His body presses up against hers. His cock nudges the fronts of her legs, leaving little wet dots from his precum. She pulls away,  mouthing the word ‘patience’, then smiling deviously at him.

“Gale, will you roll my stockings down?” she asks sweetly over her shoulder. Only men who love stockings run their hands over them like that. 

“God yes,” he breathes. How did she know?

With practiced ease, he undoes the clips with a pinch and snap of his fingers and slowly begins to roll down her nylons, relishing every inch.  His breath is hot on the back of her legs as he plants kisses all the way down each leg. 

Meanwhile, she holds John's face in her hands, their mouths now familiar enough to feel free opening to one another. One hand embraces the back of his neck, fingertips in his hair. The other lands on his strong back.  His arms are under hers, his large hands wrapped onto her shoulders from behind. Their tongues play against one another lazily as she sucks on his bottom lip.  She reaches towards her back,  to the clasp of her bra. 

“No, let me,” he whispers against her lips, grabbing her hand.

He reaches one handed and undoes her bra, releasing her tits. He runs his hands around her ribs, massaging where the band had dug in. 

She sighs in pleasure. 

Gale unhooks the garter belt, laying it on the dresser aside the two perfectly rolled nylons. Her bra dangles from her elbows. John slides it off and hands it to Gale. So far the two men have not made any sort of eye contact, both fearing it would break the spell. 

She had never before been so turned on. Having her most intimate clothing slowly removed by two gorgeous, naked men who know exactly what they are doing? Yes please, any and every day. 

She turns toward Gale, raising one hand to his check as he stands up. 

“Thank you” she breathes against his soft, plush lips. 

She is standing  sideways between them, one hand on each man. John's hand is rubbing lightly along the seam of her pussy lips. Her muff is trimmed down short. He is not surprised to find wetness seeping between them. His fingers glide in between her wet lips to taste the heat inside her. She lets out a wavering little moan. 

Gale’s fingertips are tracing her ribs. She pulls his hand up to her breast, encouraging him. The rumble in his throat and the way his hand kneads her, shoots tingles to her core. She breaks the kiss and turns her head to John.  She grabs his chin, and pulls him down to her. Each of their hands are on her ass cheeks, gripping.  The stretching of her ass between them is delectable. A shiver runs down her spine.  

She lets go of John’s chin, still kissing him and  trailing fingertips down his chest to his cock. She wraps her hand around him, lord she hadn’t realized how big he actually was. He groans in his chest at her touch. Gale is planting kisses on her neck and shoulders. She can feel his cock rubbing against her thigh. 

She pushes John to sit on the bed, just behind him. He plops down unceremoniously. She turns to face him, keeping one hand on Gale, so he knows she hasn’t forgotten him.  

Keeping Gale’s hand glued to her ass, she bends over, pushing John to lay down. Her face lowers toward his groin. Her hand looks small wrapped around him. She licks her lips, making them glisten with spit. She pushes her mouth over his tip. She finds she can fit him in her mouth,  but there isn’t much room for error. She sucks up, moving her mouth on him, pushing him as deep as she can. Her mouth is so full of him. 

Holy mackerel! He’s not met many women who could be convinced to suck a cock, especially when  faced with HIS cock, and here she is just doting it.  She was a fucking icing expert. 

Margie arches back, expecting Gale to push his cock into her, she is wet enough  and ready for him. Instead,  she feels both of his hands on her ass pulling her apart and his tongue lapping against her labia.  She is astonished when she feels his fingers rub circles around her clit.  A man that actually knows how to please a woman is a rare find indeed.  She moans around John's cock in response. Her spit runs in rivulets down his shaft. She slides her hand up and down him under her mouth.  With her mouth stuffed and an attentive man  between her legs,she starts to feel a tightening inside.  Her moans get louder, reverberating in her chest.

John’s hands alight on her shoulders, not wanting to force her head down. His hips start to pulse up into her mouth of their own accord. 

Gale is rubbing her clit faster, his long tongue dipping into her folds as far as he can, tongue fucking her. He loves the taste of pussy, would pick eating it over fucking it, if he had to choose just one.  Not that he doesn’t plan on driving himself deep into her. He just  misses the sweet taste of pussy on his tongue. 

God she is so close to exploding. Her hips are rocking back and forth, wanting Gale deeper, wanting his cock. She seems to pull away from him and  his hand locks onto her thigh, pulling her towards him. He growls into her pussy. She realizes he is enjoying this as much as she is and holy hell, is that hot. 

She pulls off Johns cock just enough to say over her shoulder,”Fuck me please, Gale”

“Oh sweetheart, I will, but I need that sweet juice in my mouth.” he says. It’s the longest sentence he’s uttered since they met.

He flips onto his back on the floor, pulling her knees to either side of his head. “Sit that kitty right down here on my face. God I love it.” 

He wraps his arms around her thighs, pulling her lips apart with his fingers as she nestles her clit down onto his tongue. 

John sits up, his cock still in her hand, and moves to the edge of the bed. He watches his best friend suck and lick her pussy. He can see the cockstand he has, nearly as big as his own. Huh, things he didn’t know about Buck. He had always wanted to try it, eating a girl out,  but was a little intimidated. Just watching her eyes roll back in her head and hearing her moans, he bet that Buck was pretty good at it. He’d have to ask for pointers some time. Then her mouth was on his dick again, her head bobbing up and down in time with her hand. She knew what she was doing too and seemed to really love it. Spit was dripping off his balls and onto the floor near Bucks’ head. He could feel his balls tightening. He breathes deep, controling his urge to paint her tonsils. 

This must be a hedonistic dream, she decides. Gale starts sucking her clit hard, his thumb pushing at the entrance. She nearly comes unglued, it feels so good, almost too good.  Her body jerks away, afraid she had to pee. But Gale has a lock on her hips and won’t let her leave his mouth. He doubles down on his tongue-lashing of her clit, sucking and licking hard. Suddenly, she is keening, John’s cock still crowding her mouth.  Her spine undulates and she shivers.

Her dam breaks and she floods into Gale’s mouth and on his chin, little runnels of her sweet juices running down his neck. He groans into her, he might cum right here.  He laps and laps at her, sucking the sweet fluid from her tight little slit. Moans of pleasure rumble in his chest. 

She pulls off of John’s cock, panting. Jesus did he know what he was about. She dismounts from Gale’s face. He sits up, wiping his chin and spins around with a growl. The smell of her sex was flooding the room. 

John and Gale glance quickly at one another. In a split second, they each know the question and John gives the answer with a little nod of acquiescence and a tilt of his eyes at Margie. He loves Buck in ways he can’t explain, he’d never deny him such a real pleasure. 

Margaret is still panting when John pulls her up from her knees, laying her onto the bed next to him so his best friend can take her pussy. He wraps his arm around her neck, making a pillow of his bicep for her. He leans down and kisses her beautifully dirty mouth. 

Gale hovers over her, his cock head nudging her lips. He closes his mouth over one, then the other of her nipples, tonguing them and sucking them in turn.  He realizes as they stiffen, that even her nipples were the same. 

Margie's lips and tongue engage with John’s while her legs open invitingly to Gale, begging for him. She reaches, guiding him with one hand, rubbing his tip onto her wet folds. He pushes, she groans into John’s mouth as he enters her, stretching her gorgeously.  Gales closes his eyes, giving himself over to pleasure. 

She pulls him in with her hand on his ass. Her other hand is in John's lap, stroking his wet cock. His hips press up, fucking into her hand.

The men are so lost in the moment, so lost in this woman,  that when their legs rub against one another, they barely notice. Or if they did, they just don’t care.

When his eyes open, Gale watches his best friend in the whole world kiss her, kiss his girl as he plunges inside her. It’s like a heaven he didn’t know existed, having these two most important people in his life sharing such an intimate moment.  He truly has forgotten she’s not actually Marge. She turns her head from John to smile at Gale. She lets go of John’s cock to pull Gale down to her mouth for a demanding kiss. He returns her kiss with equal fervor. John snakes his arm out from under her neck. 

Gale tucks his head down into the crook of her neck.

“My love, my darling”  he breathes just barely a whisper.  His hips tuck as he moves in her.  

Seeing their intimacy, John backs away, just wanting to give them a moment. Margie's hand reaches out and grabs his leg at the same moment Gale grabs his wrist. Gales fingers dig in hard for just a moment before letting go. It’s clear that neither of them want him far away. 

Gale  pounds into her. She grasps John’s hand and clings to Gale with the other. 

“Yes, oh god yes.” She whispers in his ear.

He slows, pushing up to look at her. His blue eyes blown to nearly black, his breath merely a shaky pant. 

“No, don’t stop,” she nearly whines. 

“I’m gonna…” His eyebrows drawn together with a question.

“S’ok, I can’t” she says, knowing the question.  No man of this caliber wants to think there is some child out there with his eyes that he isn’t gonna get a hand in raising. 

“Oh hunny,” he saw the look of pain flash in her eyes, covered quickly with a smile. 

The look on his face just before he kisses her is one, not of pity, but of empathy. He thrusts into her,  giving her this, at least. He stares into her eyes, holding her head as fucks her harder and harder. His jaw tightens and his forehead creases. He grunts, his eyes shutter closed as his hips stutter. He covers John’s and Margaret’s grasped hands in his, squeezing as he cums, emptying deep, deep inside her, groaning softly. 

Gale lays with his forehead on hers for a moment, his breath recovering. It dawns on him that he’s never cum inside before, not like that anyway.

“Thank you,” he whispers to her. 

“Oh, I am nowhere near done with you yet,” she smiles as he rolls to the side, slipping himself out of her.  She tugs on John’s hand, looking at him with an arched eyebrow. Something has ignited in her, she wants,- no- she needs more. The weight on the mattress shifts and John kneels between her legs without question.  The fact that Buck’s cum is dripping from her is no obstacle to him. In fact, it’s hot as hell. 

He had watched Buck on her. He stroked his cock as her hand dug into Gale’s shoulder and as his hips rose and fell between her legs. He could barely breathe for being so turned on as Buck’s pelvis tucked and his glutes flexed as he came, gripping his own hand. Hearing his soft vocalizations and her sweet moans was fuel to his fire. Being a witness to this lovemaking was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. 

John looks askance at Margaret as he survey’s her swollen pussy, easy to see the wetness with her extra-short ‘short and curlies’. Women who groom their pubic hair only do it for one of two reasons; they are selling it or they actually like it. 

“Please,” is all she says.

He grasps her thighs and pulls her hips up onto his lap. She lets out a little squeal, not expecting to be so manhandled.

Gale moves his legs out of the way as Bucky pulls her toward him, meaning to give them space, the way Bucky had.  He tries to keep his eyes solely on Margaret, he can’t help but want to watch as his best friend lines his substantial johnson.  God it’s hot,  hot in ways he had never imagined, to watch as Buck slowly spreads her lips with his dick. Even though he just shot his load, he feels himself wanting her again. He glances up at Bucky, They lock eyes for just a second. Each catching the intensity of one another’s gaze. Bucky just nods.

“Can I kiss you while… “ he tilts his chin towards their joined crotches. 

“You better,”  is all she says, reaching for his neck.  Propped up on his elbow, he cradles her head. Her kiss is insistent, intense. She is far past niceties. He swallows her little moans as John presses forward slowly.

Holy Mother of Saints, John feels far bigger than he looks, even after being in her mouth. Her tight little lips distend around his head. He is towering over her. With her legs wrapped around his waist and her hand grasping at his thigh, she descends into that narrow gap between pleasure and pain. Thankfully, Gale’s lovely cock had prepped her, what it must be like to go from nothing to John must be intense. Maybe she’ll get to try it someday. 

Gale continues to kiss her face and neck as John slides into her fully,  stretching her that much more. 

“Oh my god,” her eyes widen as he moves slowly in her. Her grip tightens on Gale’s neck. Gale’s fingertips lightly drag over her nipples.

John is watching himself slide in and out of her, his big hands clutching to her hips for leverage.  He knows how big he is, he knows he needs to go slow at first, let them get used to him. Gale having her first was perfect, she was ready and so wet. She molded to him quickly. ‘God damn, pussies are fucking amazing!’ he thinks to himself.

Margaret’s free hand migrates to Gale’s cock, she wants to make him hard again, wants more. As her hand closes over his cock, Gale shakes his head with a tiny curl of his beautiful full lips. 

“No hunny, this is about you right now,” his voice is like honey’d whisky in her ear.

Her spine shivers. He gently moves her hand off him.  Lacing his fingers in hers he brings her hand up and kisses it leaving it wrapped around his neck. Then he drags his hand down  between her breasts and over her belly. His eyes flickering between her mouth and her eyes. He suddenly closes the gap and his tongue is deliciously in her mouth again. 

John watches as Gale's hand slides downwards. He comes dangerously close to John’s dick, but alights on a spot right above her opening. He would never admit it out loud, but he wishes Gale hadn’t stopped, that his fingers were encircling his dick as he plunged in and out of her sweet pussy. Instead, Gale’s fingertips start rubbing in little circles on the nodule of flesh there. John starts to fuck her faster. 

The angle at which John is fucking her is intense, rubbing against a place inside her that she’s never felt before.  Gale’s fingers and mouth, John’s cock and the positioning inside her, it is the perfect storm. Oh god she never knew it could be like this! An orgasm like no other is building in her.

“Yeah, that’s it Margie, cum on his cock for me,” Gale finds himself saying to her. He loves to see a woman pleasured well. 

His words send her over the edge and she is in the throes of pure ecstasy. She starts going wild, hips jerking, fist torturing the sheets at John’s knees. She is screaming into Gale’s shoulder, her nails biting little moons on his skin. His voice is steady, a continual string of murmured words urging her on. 

“C’mon baby, you can do it. Yes ,there ya go, that’s it.  God you are so gorgeous when you cum,” he doesn’t even realize he is doing it. 

John can feel her pussy fluttering around him in a way he’s never felt before. Then his balls are wet with her juices. She squirms away from him, legs pushing against him.  He lets go of her, suddenly worried that he hurt her somehow. 

“Geeze, are you ok?” he blurts out. 

She doesn’t answer, panting, shaking. 

He looks at Gale with something like panic in his eyes. Gale, who is grinning like a cat that got into the cream, just nods. It dawns on John, that he’s never seen a woman cum like that before.

Once she catches her breath, her eyes flutter open.

“Geeze boys,” she lifts a corner of her mouth, flicking her eyes between them.  “that was… wow.” 

She looks up at John, seeing his erection still rock hard and the slight disquiet on his face. She sits up and pulls him into a deep kiss to reassure him. Her hand strays to his cock. 

“Please John, '' she says against his mouth, “please put this back in me, you feel so good.  Will you finish in me?”  The question is rhetorical, but he nods anyway, his blue eyes black with desire.  She rolls over in front of him, back to him and is on her knees. She dislodges her crumpled ribbon from her disheveled hair and pulls it quickly back into a knot at the back of her head. With expert fingers, she ties the ribbon around it, prepping for what it is she wants now. 

 “And you, sir,” she motions for Gale to sit up by the headboard, “I want you in my mouth.” The fact that he is hard again is not lost on her. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that darlin’,” he shakes his head, shy all of a sudden.

Her eyebrows shoot up. Her hand lands on her hips. John’s hands are already on her tits, his lips on her exposed neck. 

“Are you denying a lady what she wants, and here I thought you were a gentleman.” she points insistently where she wants him to go. John gives him a look over her shoulder that says, ‘she’s right.’

“Well, now,” he says placatingly, “ since you put it that way.” 

Watching John fondle her nipples from behind was tantalizing.  He adjusts his body to be right in front of her and he leans back against the headboard. He’s never had his dick licked and is both excited and nervous all of a sudden. 

John is nearly shaking with need as she pushes her ass back against him and leans down to all fours over Gale’s lap. 

“That’s better” she murmurs, wetting her lips. Holding his shaft in her fist. Her tongue rims his tip, then her mouth covers his head.

He gasps a little as she sucks, pulling her head away.  She dives back again, her tongue waving on his underside.

“Oh my god” he moans, his head and eyes tilting back. 

John takes a moment, watching her work Buck’s cock. Jesus this woman was hot to trot. His thumbs peel her cheeks apart, his tip rubbing against her lip as his dick finds its way into her. 

She moans on Gale’s cock as John’s dick spreads her again. John is tentative with his thrusts at first, but she pushes back to him, her body willing him to go harder. 

He does. In fact he becomes the engine pushing into her and subsequently,  fucking her mouth onto Buck’s cock.

‘It’s nearly like fucking Buck,’ the thought flashes in John’s mind. It fires him up so much he can’t even begin to judge the taboo. He starts pumping into her, watching her slide onto Buck’s dick. 

John is fucking her so hard that her ribbon is worming it’s way out of her hair. Gale pulls it  and her hair back from her face and into his fist. Her spit is dripping down and covering his balls. He can feel the back of her throat contract on his tip as she is thrusted onto him. 

The slap of John’a hips on her ass and her full-mouthed moans are only punctuated by soft grunts from the pair of them.

John speeds up, feeling his balls tighten. His grunts become groans. A tingle spreads across his thighs and belly. His groans become loud,  open-vowel growls.  His fingertips dig into her hips, likely to leave bruises. His face goes red and his neck muscles pop as his orgasm rockets from him and into her. He cums hard and loud, full stop. 

Her eyes flutter as John cums hard in her pussy. She is still sucking Gale, bobbing her head up and down. She reaches between her legs, rubbing her clit, his shaft and his balls. 

“Oh god don’t stop,” she says into Gale’s dick like a microphone. 

John feels her hands and reaches under her, rubbing about where he reckons Buck was earlier. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she moans, then plunges back onto Gale’s waiting dick. 

Holy smokes this dame gives as good as she gets. John keeps sliding his cock in her, though not as rough. He’s not sure how much more he can take this overstimulation. What a glorious problem to have. 

Gale’s hips are starting to pulse of their own accord, his cock wanting deeper in her mouth. She gags just a little but keeps going.

It doesn’t take her too long, keyed up as she is. When she cums her  hips wind in circles on John. Her muscles clutch at him from the inside and he pulls out, unable to take it any longer.

Gale is whispering “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” over and over as she dashes her mouth and hand up and down on him. She is fucking magnificent. She shakes and shivers, vibrating his tip with her moans. The sight and sound of her pushes Gale over the edge. 

“Oh fuck- I’m gonna…” He tries to pull out of her mouth, thinking he shouldn’t let loose into her mouth, but she chases his cock slurping hard. He gives in, thrusting deeper into her throat. He groans, shooting his cum into her mouth. She swallows greedily. 

When she pulls slowly off him, sucking him clean, his shaky hand brushes a stray hand away from her face. 

“Oh my lord,” he pants softly.  

It’s still her. It will always be her in his mind, forever and a day. He gathers her up to him. Holding her against his chest, he tries not to cry, simply overwhelmed with so much emotion.  

John, having collapsed next to her, wraps one arm around her waist, spooning her lower half and planting soft kisses down her back. She laces a hand through each of theirs, content. Gale moves his arm, letting John snuggle up to her. She doesn't see him drape his arm around John too, holding them both. 

For a few hours, at least, they all forgot. Margret forgot she was alone in the world, John forgot the horrors of the sky, and Gale, well, he forgot how much his heart ached. 

They all slept soundly in a pile of loving arms and legs. In the morning they forgot on the breakfast table and later again on the sofa. That evening, they were going to go dancing, but were too busy forgetting again. They tried to get out and see some of London on Sunday, but out there was the war, so they turned back around and forgot one more time before the boys had to leave. It was one hell of a weekend pass. 

How Buck reconciled it in his head, Bucky never guessed. He had seen him down those two drinks and knew he was three sheets to the wind. But that didn’t explain all weekend. They never once spoke of it, of the nights and days they spent together in her arms. John did notice, though, that after the war, he never once called his wife Margie, only ever Marge or Margorie.

John tried to find Margaret again, but it was like she had vanished. They would never know the real gift they gave her that weekend and she would never know which of their blue eyes it was that she cooed to, sang to, and loved with every fiber of her being. Little Johnathan Gale would never know either.