Wealth Other Than Coin
A Pink Dormouse Production
This was, without question, a damn stupid idea. But then Sands had no intention of going back on the road at exactly the same point he had been at when they arrived in Montreal - sleeping next to El - but not sleeping with El. And Sands took some small - very small - comfort from the fact that El was taking Sands with him but leaving his ladyfriend, Helene, behind in Montreal.
"Is she beautiful?" he had asked Yves earlier in the week.
"I guess so," Yves had said, obviously far more interested in the man in his arms than some random woman he had been sent to check out.
If Sands still had eyes, he would have rolled them. Next time around he was going to add 'must be bisexual' to his list of attributes for a boytoy. Not that there would need to be a next time if his plan worked.
But Helene, beautiful or not, had gone along with his explanation that yes, El had wanted the meal to be a surprise, but it would be such as shame if she had already made arrangements for that night. And she was obviously flattered that her fucktoy would go to the trouble of booking such an expensive restaurant just to say good-bye to her.
Problem solved, Sands made two calls on his cell - one to actually book the restaurant in question, the other to ensure that Yves would be working - and therefore unavailable - that night. Then he had another thought and put in a third call to book a hotel suite. Preparation was the key, and he could hardly rely on El to invite Helene to the apartment - or Helene to invite both of them back to her place.
Damn stupid idea or not, Sands had managed to get himself invited to tag along for the meal without too much effort. Well, he was paying for it after all, and El must have figured that part out, or he would have made more of just how expensive the restaurant was. Instead, the smooth bastard was taking it all in his stride.
Sands took care throughout the meal to flirt just enough with Helene to keep her interested without increasing El's suspicions over the danger mark. At least he hoped that was what he was doing - neither of them had walked out on him by coffee at any rate. And when, at that point, his free hand just happened to slide under the table and end up on El's knee, nothing was said about that either.
"The bill, sir," the waiter - aka Sands' back-up plan for the evening - said to El.
"I'll take care of that." Sands smirked "You can pay me back later. Besides," he dropped the swipe-card to the hotel suite onto the table, "I've got a little going-away present for you kids too."
After a short silence - probably the pair of them processing him referring to them as kids - he heard Helene pick the card up.
"Are you certain?" This is - "
"- Expensive?" Sands turned on his most charming smile. "Yeah, I know but it's all paid for. So you may as well make the most of it, while I pay and get out of your way." He stood up and allowed the waiter to lead him to the desk.
He stopped in the doorway and turned to face Helene.
"Still here?" Sands smirked. "I hope you're not going to waste my present."
"I - we - just wondered if you..." Helene paused.
Sands waited. Maybe he had got it right.
"Would care to join us," El finished, sounding more than a little embarrassed.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Sands had just hit jackpot.
"Well, I don't have any other plans for the evening."
And, now that they were in the suite, Sands was starting to get edgy. Or, if he was honest with himself, he was damn near panicking. From the conversation in the taxi, he had got the distinct impression that this was all Helene's idea, and that El was only going along with it to please her. Which meant, if he got this wrong, he would end up in a much worse position than the one he had started from. But he was not backing out now. He took a sip from his brandy glass and leaned back on the bed.
"So here we are," he said, trying to sound as if he did this all the time.
"Here we are." The bed shifted as Helene leaned over to kiss him. She tasted of mint and brandy, but he decided that the Chanel Number Five was never going to appeal to him so much as when it was an undertone to whatever it was that El wore. He set his own brandy aside and returned her kiss, rolling on top of her then pulling her over again, so that they landed up against El.
Sands pushed the woman at the other man and hurriedly rolled away to reclaim his brandy. The last time he had tried to kiss El, he had been punched for his trouble. He was not going to risk having that happen again in front of a witness. He managed to pick up his glass without dislodging anything else from the sidetable, and gulped down another mouthful, trying to ignore the fact that the other two seemed perfectly capable of having fun without him.
Just get on with it already, he thought, hearing clothes being removed. This was far less fun than he had expected - hell, he could not even watch.
The bed shifted.
"You're still fully-clothed," Helene said, running a finger down Sands' cheek.
He put the glass back on the table and then slid down the bed, rolling slightly to lie on his side.
"Was that a 'Sands, get naked or we'll strip you'?"
"Maybe." The bed shifted again as El moved close enough to press the tips of two fingers to Sands' temple in the mockery of a gun. "Helene wanted two men, I don't think we should disappoint her."
Sands resisted the urge to take both those fingers into his mouth and just suck. Instead, he sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Sands felt El's fingers skim over Sands' hair and pulled back, rather than lean too far into the touch. Sands knew he could lose himself in El - probably he already had - and right now he had too little idea about where all this was leading. To his eternal damnation, he supposed - otherwise known as life without El.
He felt smaller fingers - Helene's - unfastening his pants and sliding them over his hips. Sands lay back and let Helene do all the work, moving just enough to make things easy for her.
So that was all three of them naked, he assumed. He was fucking this up with a big time attack of nerves and - oh, fuck Helene's mouth was around his cock and he was hardening into it. He slid his hands down to cup her face - first assessment said she was pretty good for her age - and ran his thumbs along the arches of her brow line.
"I think El deserves to be first." His confidence had just returned in spades and he suddenly had the perfect picture in his head of how he wanted this to go. She lifted her head, and he took his hands away from her face. God, it was tough to just let go of her, although not as tough as it was to let Helene have El - his El, dammit - all to herself.
It had been so much easier before, Sands thought, subtly pushing Helene towards where he figured El was lying, then slapping her on the ass to try and encourage her to straddle El. Before, he could cope quite easily with the fact that if El was out all night, then El was with Helene. It helped that if El was out with Helene, then Sands would do his damnedest to spend the night with Yves. And some nights, when he knew that El was going to be home, Sands had gone over to see Yves anyway - just to prove that he could. It hurt, somewhere that might be his pride, to think that Helene might already have won the battle for El's affections.
Sands rolled onto his side and gave the matter some more thought. Nothing that Yves could do had ever quite hit the same spot as just curling up on the couch next to El. That sucked - constant hot and cold running teenage hormones being beaten into a cocked hat by El far-too-damned-straight-to-fuck-Sands Mariachi. Sands wondered if Yves knew how much of the time Sands' thoughts had been elsewhere during sex. Not that it mattered now - Sands would be gone tomorrow and Yves would get over it soon enough, having learned a thing or three in the process.
There was the sound of foil ripping over on the other side of the bed. Sands edged slowly forwards, in time with the bed's movement, still lying on his side, and put his hand out cautiously until his fingers brushed soft skin. Helene was on top of El, rocking back and forth very slowly. Sands' touch had made no difference to her rhythm so he reached out again and slid his hand up her spine. Helene arched her back slightly but her movements never altered. And El - El gave no sign of objecting, no 'wait your turn, Sands' or anything like that. So Sands rolled over and kneeled next to them, running his hands up, down, across Helene's back. Sands pressed his thumbs into the small of her back, one on each side of her spine and she straightened up, which seemed to have an interesting effect on El too, judging by the muttered 'oh, Christ' from El's direction.
Sands waited until Helene dropped back down - or El pulled her back down, it was hard to tell - then he leaned forward and licked all the way up her spine, slowly, feeling tremors run through her. That got a moan out of both of the other two so Sands tried it again, starting from a little lower. Yeah, that worked even better. He thought about sliding his hands around Helene's hips. Right around until his hands met around El's cock and Sands could feel it moving in and out of Helene. He shook his head - too much, too soon - best to avoid direct contact for now. Which brought him back to that oh-so-pretty picture that had formed in his head a little while before.
Sands dropped backwards onto the bed and stretched out one hand towards the sidetable, trying to hook his wallet. His fingers brushed against the stem of his brandy glass and then he heard a dull thud as it fell to the floor. Fuck it, after what he had paid for the suite, a little brandy on the carpet was nothing. And he had his wallet.
He rocked back up onto his knees and leaned down to kiss and lick Helene's back again, while feeling through the foil wrappers in the wallet to distinguish one set from the other. He flicked the right one out and tore off one corner. Then he slid one hand up to caress behind Helene's ear while one-handedly slicking up his fingers with a little of the foil's contents.
Sands very slowly, with alternate kisses and caresses to Helene's back and neck, edged around and slid one knee between El's thighs. That got him most of the way behind Helene - he kept his other knee outside of her legs - and a little closer to where he wanted to be. He moved his hand from Helene's neck to her shoulder, both supporting himself, and keeping her in place then experimentally slid a finger into her ass. She relaxed, allowing him in and - Christ on a bike - he could feel El's cock moving just the other side of that thin wall of flesh. Fuck. This was either going to be perfect or a perfect disaster. Quick, either way. He unclenched his fingers slightly from Helene's shoulder - bruising the nice lady would not be popular - and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
"Think you can take me straight away?"
He felt her hair brush his cheek as she nodded, then she twisted around to kiss him, before ducking her head down towards where El's face should be.
Damn, where was his wallet now? He pulled his finger out of Helene's ass, and then groped across the covers until he had it - and the opened foil of lube - once again. Open foil, apply condom, apply more lube, insert, Sands told himself, trying to keep just one splinter of his mind on the job. Then he got his other knee between El's legs and tried to find an angle that worked. And - this left a lot less room for movement than he thought it would - he could feel his cock sliding over El's with Helene between them. He dropped his hand from Helene's shoulder towards the bed and it met with El's hand on the way down. Sands twined his fingers around El's and felt them gripped tightly in return. He had won.
He had won. And he was going into freefall. And who cared if that had taken all of twenty seconds, because he was pretty sure that the other two were with him. And he had won.
Sands was lying on his back with his head on El's shoulder, one of Sands' hands on El's chest. Sands moved his hand across a little and found Helene, lying with her head on El's other shoulder. Sands ran his fingertips down Helene's neck.
"Good idea you had there." Sands smirked, wondering if she was looking at him, or even if the lights were on. He had won, no doubt about it when El's hand was running up and down Sands' ribs. Or had he won? What was El's other hand doing? Ah there it was now, caressing Sands' arm.
Sands shuffled up the bed a little, searching out El's mouth with his own. And oh fuck but El could kiss too. Sands pulled El fully on top of him and returned the kiss, hesitantly at first, then becoming more assertive. And discovered that El really did taste of vanilla tobacco, just as Sands had imagined. Which was not too much of a surprise, considering how much of the stuff El smoked.
The bed shifted. That would be Helene leaving then, Sands assumed. Sands laced his hands behind El's head and kept on kissing. He had won.
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