Work Text:
Paul really shouldn’t be having this conversation in Beanie’s. There are too many people here, too many people who could overhear. But it’s the only place he can get Ted alone without anyone from work overhearing it.
He shouldn’t be having this conversation period but he refuses to send an official CCRP email asking Ted to cuck him.
It had been a miracle that Emma's boss had given her Christmas day off. From what Paul had understood, she hadn't been counting on it, and had been absolutely triumphant when she had told him she had the day off. And so, they had been making the most of the holiday together, Emma's one day off while Paul had until the 27th.
Their first Christmas together.
A fancy breakfast of pancakes had been made, presents had been opened, and in general the day had been as perfect as Paul could have imagined.
Richie had slunk off to his room to play the video game Paul had bought him (some strategy game for the Switch with an art style he knew Richie liked) and had left him and Emma alone for the afternoon. And so they had ended up on the couch, eggnog in hand and Emma snuggled up against him for a movie marathon. Paul had been hoping for some kind of old classic. Instead, he had ended up subjected to some kind of nonsensical musical about Santa as a teenager. He'd honestly rather be tortured than sit through another out-of-place musical number.
“Emma,” Paul almost hadn't wanted to interrupt their content cuddling. Almost. “I've been. Thinking.”
“Yeah, people do that, Paul,” Emma had flatly replied into her eggnog.
“Let me finish. Do you remember our. Uh. Date? At the bar?” Of course she did. It had been less than a month since Emma had watched him stick his dick in a hole and get sucked off by a stranger.
“What about it? Do you want to go back soon?” Emma took another sip as she asked.
“No– I mean yes– That's not what I– Would you want to cuck me?” The words had tumbled out of Paul's mouth before he could stop them.
The sound Emma had made was painful, choking and sputtering with a hand in front of her face as eggnog had come out of her mouth. Paul had awkwardly run off and returned with a dish towel for her. Somewhere in the background, the movie was still going, some cheesy line about a red tricycle.
“Holy fucking shit, Paul. Jesus, I guess we're talking about this,” Emma hadn't turned the TV off, instead just muting the shitty movie. Small victories. “Is this part of your humiliation thing?”
They had been discussing it in bits and pieces, whenever one of them thought of something. Emma got off on controlling him. Paul got off on being controlled. Emma liked seeing Paul tied up and helpless. Paul had a humiliation kink. Whatever either of them could think of at any given moment.
Paul had nodded in response.
“So, you want me to, what. Sleep with another dude?” Emma's brow had been raised as she had spoken. Sceptical. Of what, Paul hadn't really been sure. Maybe the idea itself?
“Only if you want to,” Paul had tried his hardest to sound relaxed, casual. “Like I said, I've been thinking. About our date. And I don't think I minded someone else. So I was thinking maybe, something with a third person again? But with you this time? And I just watch.” Every word had felt dumb and insane. He had well and truly been stepping out on a limb so frighteningly far from anything they had discussed before.
Emma had simply shrugged.
“Alright, I guess I'm up for that. Do you have a guy in mind?”
Paul’s got a black coffee that is long gone cold and a shitty stale croissant. Ted got a Chai tea with fourteen add ons only after confirming ‘you're paying, right?’
“So my girlfriend and I have gotten slightly more adventurous lately.” Paul says, his leg bouncing up and down in their booth.
Ted raises his eyes at that.
“What, did she get you to buy rye instead of white bread?” Ted asks, taking a sip of his chai latte.
They’d talked about it since rye bread was apparently more ‘heart healthy’ than regular bread, but Paul wasn’t ready for that kind of change in his life. Plus, it was like a full 90 cents more than white bread. Paul just doesn’t think they can afford that kind of expense right now.
“No,” Paul says slowly. Of course Ted is going to be a dick about this. “It’s been experimentation of a more sexual variety.”
That makes Ted nearly spit out his coffee.
“It’s always the quiet ones,” Ted mutters to himself once he recovers, “So whatcha doing? Bondange? Pegging? Be honest Paul, does she piss on you?”
“Ted!” Paul hisses, “We’re in public. ”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Well at least keep it down!”
Ted raises his hands. “Hey man, you’re the one who brought it up.”
Paul’s eyes dart over to the counter. Nobody is there, thankfully, just Emma standing near the doorway to the back, facing away from them. Probably talking to Nora or Zoey or whoever else is on shift.
“Well,” Paul clears his throat, “About that. We were, well I was wondering if, well, you’re really sexually active. Not that that’s a bad thing of course, but we were wondering if you might want to maybe, join us some time?”
By the time he finishes with this little monologue, Ted is staring at him with his mouth wide open.
“You want me to have a threesome with you and your girlfriend,” Ted asks far too loudly for Paul’s liking.
“Well actually,” Paul says, grimacing, “I was wondering if you’d fuck her while I watched.”
Ted bursts out into a fit of laughter and Paul wants to just melt into his chair. This is stupid, he shouldn’t have even brought this up, he should have just found a prostitute. Or not have even brought it up in the first place.
“Well if you're going to be like that, I’ll just ask Bill,” Paul says indignantly, crossing his arms. It’s an empty threat and he would rather die that ask Bill to fuck his girlfriend. Bill would probably just say no and try to offer some very sage advice about relationships.
“Sorry, sorry,” Ted says, wiping some tears from the corner of his eyes. “When were you thinking of doing this?” That takes Paul off guard. He hadn’t expected Ted to seriously consider it.
“Uh, if you're free this weekend, we could do it on Friday?” Paul says.
“Why don’t we do it tonight?” Ted says. “I’m free tonight if you really want to do it.”
“Uhh…” Paul freezes. He’s not sure if Richie has plans tonight, and he really doesn’t want to answer any questions on why Richie’s best friend’s older brother was coming over on a Wednesday night. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”
Paul turns around, and Emma’s now standing at the counter on her phone. She definitely heard all of that. She raises an eyebrow as if to say really, him? Paul just gives a helpless shrug.
“Well, give me your phone. If you are up for me fucking your girlfriend tonight, then text me,” Ted makes a grabbing motion as he speaks. Paul wordlessly hands it over, and just smiles awkwardly at Emma as she pinches the bridge of her nose. His phone is placed back in his hand after a moment. He doesn’t even bother to check what Ted put himself as in Paul’s contacts. He honestly doesn’t have the strength for that at the moment.
They finish their coffees in silence, punctuated by Ted joking about ‘fucking Paul’s girlfriend’. It's on the walk back to the office when the thought hits him: I work in IT. I could’ve just deleted the email from the system before anyone saw it. He groans. He really should have just put this in an email.
Ted rushes to the bathroom almost as soon as they get back to the office. He locks the stall door and pulls out his phone and texts Pete.
I’m gonna venmo you forty dollars, twenty for pizza and twenty to not ask questions
Oh, isn’t one of Pete’s friends Paul’s nephew or something? He should probably get him out of the house too.
And invite Richie over
K I was gonna have Richie over anyway
Can we get Ramen instead?
Sure whatever won’t be back till late
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do
K don’t fuck anyone who’s married
Ted’s not proud of the affair with Charlotte. Her husband was a grade-A asshole, but he still shouldn't have had her over to the apartment, where Pete could have walked in at any time. For most of Pete’s freshman year of high school he hadn’t dared to forgive Ted. Now as a junior, he’d mostly gotten over it, except when he was hooking up with other people, when Peter decided to make jokes about it. Ted rolls his eyes at the last line, if only Pete knew.
It had been, what, a month since Ted sucked Paul off through that glory hole? Not even, but Paul had wholly taken over Ted’s spank bank. Seemingly every time he went to choke the chicken , his mind seemed to wander back to the way Paul whimpered when Ted put his mouth in his dick.
God , he wanted to fucking ruin Paul. Blindfold him, tie him to the bed, and make him moan for hours. Tease all those sounds out of Paul. Pound him into the fucking mattress till there’s nothing Paul can do but moan his name.
He can’t stop thinking about what else that girl had talked him into. Ted can’t stop picturing Paul as needy, desperate, and rutting against the girl, still fully clothed. Getting manhandled against the stall wall and forced to hump until he came with a pathetic little whine. Him ruining his slacks like a fucking teenager dry humping at prom.
Now, everything that Paul did seemed to turn him on. Paul in his stupid little suits just made him think of tying Paul up with his own tie and fucking him senseless. Paul asks if he wants to go to Beanie’s, and Ted’s thinking about fucking him over the Beanie’s counter, destroying his prostate in full view of everyone.
Sometimes he thinks about just walking into Paul’s cubicle, whipping it out, and telling him that he’d been the one sucking his dick that night. Watch Paul go red as he just stands there, getting off on telling Paul what a fucking whore he was.
But most of all he wants to see Paul’s dick again. He’d do fucking anything to get to see that dick again. He wants to feel it in his mouth, wants Paul to smack his dick in Ted’s face and have his face covered with Paul’s cum.
He needs to stop thinking about this. He’s already got a half chub and he wants to save anything for tonight if it ends up happening. He slowly collects his thoughts and leaves the bathroom.
God, he isn’t going to get anything done today. He’s probably not going to get anything done the est of the week if he has wait till the fucking weekend to do this.
He goes through the motions the rest of the day. Ted finishes his reports as best he can with too many stops to the restroom, breakroom, and coffee cart. He passes Paul as many times as possible without looking suspicious. By three-thirty there’s still no text from Paul and Ted has all but given up on getting laid tonight when an unknown number texts him.
We’re on for tonight if you still are.
Ted almost drops his phone as he reads it. He needs to play it cool and not seem like some overeager turbo virgin.
Sure, lmk where you live
Five o’clock can’t fucking come soon enough.
Ted’s pretty sure he breaks several traffic laws as he drives to Paul’s place, trying to make up for the time he lost stopping to buy condoms and mouthwash. He eventually pulls up outside a small house, nothing fancy but definitely not cheap-looking either. Plain on the outside. Probably just as plain on the inside. Definitely a Paul kind of house. He parks the Studebaker next to the curb, the driveway already occupied by a Chevy and a beat-up old Buick that looks like it should’ve been scrapped two owners ago.
He takes a few minutes to look himself over in the visor mirror. The tie is too stuffy-looking. He futzes with it for a minute before deciding to take it off all together. It gets thrown in the backseat, and Ted unbuttons his shirt just enough to show the tiniest bit of chest hair. He’s fumbling through the glove box trying to find the moustache wax he keeps in here for emergencies when he finds the gold chain that he used to wear when heading out to Charlotte’s place. He’d never been that big of a fan of jewellery, but Char had always thought it was sexy. He throws it on too, just in case. A quick swish of the mouth with the mouthwash, which is promptly spit in the street. Ready as he’ll ever be.
Ted opts to knock on the door instead of ringing the doorbell. It’s always good to make as strong and loud of a first impression as possible. Instead of Paul, it’s the crabby barista from Beanie’s of all people who answers, her hair down around her face instead of in the messy updo thing he’s always seen her in. Her clothes are different as well, the Beanie’s uniform replaced by a snug pair of jeans and a simple button-down blouse. Paul's girlfriend gives him a bit of a strained smile.
“Hey, come in, uh. Paul didn’t actually tell me your name,” She points and clicks her tongue at him. Still, she moves out of the way, giving room for Ted to go in and close the door behind himself. The laugh Ted gives is probably too loud.
“Guess that makes two of us. Dweeb didn’t even tell me who I’d be fucking. Ted, by the way,” He doesn’t bother to offer her his hand. He’s not that much of a nerd. The crabby barista just sort of gives him a look.
“Emma. Paul’s in the kitchen, if you want him.”
Ted is moving towards the kitchen before she’s done talking. Paul’s living room isn’t really notable as he passes through, just vague shades of brown and white. It leads directly into the kitchen where Paul is pacing, trying to straighten his tie, still in his goddamn work clothes, jacket and all, and Ted can hear him quietly doing the “okay” thing under his breath.
“Not even gonna greet me at the door?” Paul jumps like a spooked cat when he speaks. None of the tension leaves him, even as he looks Ted over. He doesn't even try to make eye contact. Ah, so he’s that nervous.
“Sorry, Ted. Was just trying to get some things set out. You’re, uh, you’re here kind of early.”
Ted snorts. “You said after work, and it’s after work. Now let’s see what you’ve got going on here.” He cranes his head around to look past Paul. Behind him on the island is a wine bottle with three glasses, alongside a tray and some small serving plates. Upon further inspection, the tray is covered in cheeses, fruits, crackers, and even a goddamn flower made out of meat.
A charcuterie board.
This man had set out a fucking charcuterie board for a guy who was about to cuck him. Ted has to keep himself from snorting at Paul’s earnestness. He's still fiddling with his tie, less trying to straighten it and more just digging his fingers into the fabric.
“So. I was thinking maybe, well, we could have a bit of a snack, some wine, talk a little, and then get to, um, the main event,” Paul gives a little shrug as he speaks. God, even when Ted was about to fuck his girlfriend, he was still a complete dork.
The charcuterie board isn't nothing, Ted knows that. But.
“If you’re going to invite me over to fuck your girlfriend, at least by me dinner first.” Ted says.
“Oh no,” Emma’s in front of him in an instant, arms crossed and scowling directly up at him as she speaks. “I went to three different stores for this. Now, Paul made us a lovely spread, and we’re going to sit here and enjoy it.”
Ted rolls his eyes. He might not be all that into romance, but he still likes to get wined and dinned before a good fucking. However, putting up a fight means he probably won’t be getting any tonight. He resigns himself to grumbling something about next time and serving himself some salami and crackers.
For about half an hour they sit there and talk about Christmas. Emma and Paul spent it together (like the perfect fucking couple, it’s enough to make him want to puke). Ted spent it with Pete and his new girlfriend (the mayor’s daughter, of all people), and a couple of his friends came over for lunch the day after.
The whole time they’re talking Paul is taking constant sips from his glass of wine. So much so that he refills his glass not once but twice. Ted can practically see in real time as he loosens up, his shoulders untensing and his smile getting looser and wider.
Ted had only seen drunk Paul once before, two years ago at the office Christmas party. That had only been one glass of eggnog. After he finishes his second glass, Emma finally suggests that they move things into the bedroom.
“Sounds good,” Paul all but slurs, following his girlfriend. Ted takes that as his cue to follow after him.
They make their way up the stairs, their awkward little migration stopping in front of a door at the end of the hall. Before Ted has time to get his bearings, suddenly Paul turns around and kisses him.
It’s wet and sloppy, the taste sharp and sweet. Paul is all but scrunching his shirt as he leans down, putting the majority of his weight on Ted, making him stumble back into a wall. Ted puts his hands on the back of Paul’s neck before he can even really process what’s going on. Paul’s already sighing into his mouth, trying his hardest to deepen the kiss.
“Paul!” Emma says in a tone that Ted recognizes as her ‘dom voice’. Paul instantly stops what he’s doing and turns back towards Emma. God, he already looks a little out of it, just from a little kissing. “Do you wanna fuck him youself or am I going to?”
“You are,” Paul says. He sounds almost a little sad about it. Meanwhile, Ted is being extremely normal about the fact that Paul Mattews, a man who moans like a whore at the slightest bit of a blowie, just kissed him.
“Alright then,” Emma says, motioning towards the bedroom, “Then let's get on with it.”
Paul trails after her into the bedroom. Ted takes an extra moment to collect himself before following them.
The room is as neat as he's expecting. Nothing fancy, in fact it looks like most of this stuff came from the ikea catalogue, a bed with a white duvet (rookie mistake) and an accent throw blanket. There’s not much else in the room, just a nightstand with a very boring looking lamp on it. And just on the side of the bed is a dining room chair. Huh.
Paul takes off his jacket and places it nicely over the dining room chair before popping himself down in it. He then just sits there, staring at them.
Ted gives Emma a look.
“So do I just, like, whip it out, or?” Ted already has his hands on his belt buckle, waiting for an answer. He wouldn’t even mind it, he’s been half-hard ever since Paul tried to jump him.
“Uh,” Emma says, and it’s probably the first time in the night Ted’s seen her falter. “Well, Paul, should he?”
They look over at Paul in unison and Paul looks like he’s going to have an aneurysm. His face is bright red, his mouth is twisted into an unreadable expression. Poor bastard probably hasn’t been in charge in this bedroom for a single minute of his relationship.
He wants to say Paul calm down, I've sucked your dick before. But, odds were, it would probably just result in Paul shaking like a nervous chihuahua, and then no one would have any fun. Who knew that under the slightest amount of pressure he turned into a sopping wet dog.
“Just, uh, do whatever you’d normally do, Ted,” Paul eventually spits out, “Just pretend I’m not even here.”
Emma rolls her eyes, then looks back at Ted. On instinct he dips down to kiss her, and only at that moment does it hit him how tiny she is, having to lean down so far just to reach her lips. One of his hands goes to her back, guiding her towards the bed. Emma follows his lead lying back on the bed, thighs propped open enough for Ted to settle between them. His body practically covers hers as he leans himself over her, chasing her lips. The kiss is as sweet-tasting as the one he had shared with Paul.
They stay like that for a bit, just adjusting to each other, Ted’s hands settling on Emma’s hips and her arms wrapping around Ted’s neck. The kiss grows sloppy, and Emma starts squirming under him, fiddling with her jeans and trying to shrug them down her legs. Ted pulls back just enough to pull them off her and toss them somewhere on the floor.
Paul’s breath is shaky at the sight, and admittedly Ted had forgotten he was there until that moment. At least he was enjoying it so far.
Emma tries to drag Ted back upwards, back into the kiss. Instead, he slides lower down her body, sinking down lower into the mattress. He hooks Emma’s legs over his shoulders and leans down to mouth at her thigh. The kisses he trails up her leg are slow and teasing, sometimes stopping to nip at the soft skin, just enough to make her breath hitch. Ted can hear Paul shudder on the edge of his hearing, and he plans to get more noises like that out of him.
“I’m gonna rock your world in ways he never fucking could,” He nuzzles between her thighs before placing another kiss. Ted absolutely prided himself on his ability to give oral. You don’t spend every other Thursday on the business end of a glory hole without picking up a few tricks.
Ted can hear Paul’s belt buckle come undone, but he doesn’t stop to look at him as he keeps teasing his way upwards. Another nip at Emma's thigh has her nudging him with her heels dug into his back.
“Hurry up already,” Emma pulls him in with her legs, and Ted gladly lets himself be moved closer.
“What, can't wait to have someone make you feel good for a change?”
Ted can hear Paul suck in a sharp breath. It's so fucking tempting to look. Maybe Paul's already got his dick in his hand, ready to jerk it just to Ted teasing his girlfriend. Ted bites at the meat of Emma's other thigh, just to refocus himself. Her fingers bury themselves into his hair.
“God, you're an ass,” Any bite is undercut by her voice getting breathier.
“That's not the magic word.”
“Fine, please. ”
“Please what?” If she's going to call him an ass, then Ted's going to be an ass.
“Please make me feel good.” Emma tries to yank him closer. He lets himself be pulled forward again, face now inches from where she wants him. She's still in her panties, nothing fancy like lace or anything, but that doesn't matter when Ted can see where the fabric is dark from how wet she is.
He mouths at her panties for another moment, just letting her squirm. Just one last bit of teasing before Ted hooks both of his thumbs around the sides, pulling them down and off. He discards them as well, somewhere in Paul’s direction. Finally, getting his mouth onto her.
Ted licks at her slowly, gently, just enough to get the taste of her slick on his tongue. Without thinking, he laps at Emma again and again, her taste warm and musky and something he’s determined to get more of if it kills him. Above him, Emma’s sigh is soft and breathy and content.
The sound of a cap opening barely registers, but the slick sound that follows is unmistakable, along with the shuddering sigh Paul lets out. Well, he might as well get a show.
Ted licks his way up her slip, teasingly flicking over her clit. Her fingers tighten in his hair. Taking that as a good sign, he dips his head down, sucking at her, still licking over her, leaned forward enough that he's vaguely aware of his upper lip against her pelvis. Emma squirms against him again, this time away from his touch.
“That feels weird,” She mutters.
“And here I thought girls liked getting sucked off, too,” Ted winks at her, and she rolls her eyes in response.
“Not that, dumbass. The fucking mustache, ” She even gestures at it for emphasis.
“That’s just the bush brush guarantee, babe,” Ted winks. Emma cringes, and Ted can’t help but roll his eyes. Everyone’s a critic. Still, he has a job to do.
He goes back to lapping at her, burying himself between her legs, determined to get lost in her wetness. He fucks his tongue into her, and the way Emma squeals is almost as intoxicating as her taste. It makes Ted’s dick fucking ache, still trapped in his work pants, and what he wouldn’t give to just shove a hand between his legs and jack off until he was raw . He digs his nails into the meat of Emma’s thighs, just to keep the thought at bay.
Ted’s barely aware of his movements anymore. He's vaguely aware as his nose brushes against her clit, but it doesn't register until she gasps, nails digging into his scalp and forcing him to stay where he is.
“D-Don't you fucking stop that!”
His efforts are redoubled, licking deeper into her, one of his hands being pried off her thigh to rub at her clit. Emma's moans build higher, needier. Ted lets his eyes dart up for just a second. Emma isn't even looking at him, her eyes shut as she pants with her cheek against the pillow.
“Not even gonna look at me, babe?”
Her eyes barely open. Still, it's enough for Ted to see the moment they roll back as her body shakes with her pleasure as she comes.
Emma's back arches as he keeps mouthing at her through her orgasm. Even as she shudders, Ted keeps his head down, licking the wetness dripping from her cunt like a man starved. It really has been too fucking long since he's eaten someone out.
The hands in Ted's hair yank firmly enough to make his eyes roll back in his head, and the moan it pulls from him makes Emma writhe against him. Ted is vaguely aware of the slick sound still coming from Paul's direction. He has to keep his attention on Emma.
Ted sucks at her clit again, making her hips buck into his mouth. Emma keens as she pushes herself against Ted's mouth, and Ted is completely normal about the way Paul moans shakily in response. He doesn't give her space to catch her breath as he begins to rub two fingers through the mess still between her legs. She whimpers again as his fingers run up and down her folds. If he’s gonna fuck Paul’s girlfriend he’s going to do it properly, the Ted Spankoffski special if you will. Minimum three orgasms with a side of oral.
His fingers slide in easily, earning him a soft whine.
“Already nice and loose for me,” He can't resist smirking up at her. All he gets is a snort in response, which melts into a gasp as he pulls his fingers out and roughly thrusts them back in. Her moans return in full force, and it barely takes a few strokes to get her fucking back down against his fingers as he tries to put his lips back on her clit.
Even under Emma’s moans, Paul’s pathetic whimpering is downright distracting.
Ted lifts his head, just enough to look to the side, fingers still fucking into Emma hard enough to make her cry out. Every sound she makes is matched by Paul's slutty goddamn moans, muffled a bit by the back of his hand pressed to his mouth. Even partially blocked, it's clear as day that his face is redder than Ted's ever seen.
Ted's eyes dart down. He's expecting Paul to be jacking off furiously, fucking into his own hand like his life depends on it. Hell, Ted knows he would be. Instead, Paul’s fingers are grasped white-knuckled in the fabric of his pants. His dick is hard against his stomach, twitching freely, dripping precum that Ted wants to taste again.
Paul was making sounds like a whore untouched.
Holy shit.
It takes every bit of Ted's pride to not start rutting against the mattress. He refocuses on Emma, thrusting his fingers deeper into her.
“Oh fuck, please!” Emma cries “Fuck, Ted!”
“Go ahead baby,” Ted says, looking back at Paul. “Come on my fingers, maybe we’ll let your boyfriend smell them afterwards, see what he’s missing out on.”
Paul lets out a strangled moan that Ted recognizes. His head jerks up in an instant, just in time to catch Paul staring at them, wide-eyed, as hot ropes of cum paint his dick and pants. Ted's mouth feels dry at the sight.
“Holy shit , you came from that?” Ted says. He knows he’s not supposed to be addressing Paul but he’s genuinely kinda shocked Paul came. “Were you even touching yourself?”
Paul shakes his head pathetically. Jesus Christ he was extremely into Paul Mattews right now.
“Damn, you’re such a whore,” Ted says, looking at Paul, “I wonder what you’d look like under me. If just some dirty talk gets you off, I bet you'd–”
Emma snaps in his face.
“Hey,” Emma’s glaring at him when he looks up at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be fucking me?”
“Sorry,” Ted shakes his head, fighting to get the image of fucking Paul out of his brain. Back to the task at hand.
“There's a better way you could show you’re– Ah!” Whatever she's saying gets cut off as Ted crooks the fingers he still has buried in her. Jesus, Paul must have given him fucking brain damage or something to make him forget he was knuckle deep in his girlfriend.
It doesn't take long to get Emma fucking herself down on his fingers again, grip back in his hair, trying to force his head back where it should be.
“Fuck, come on, please! ”
Ted mouths at her clit again, tongue flicking over her until she’s almost sobbing with her peak. Her thighs and cunt clench around him, trapping Ted where he is, as if he’d want to be anywhere else. Ted would give just about anything to stay like that for the rest of time, fucking Emma through every wave of pleasure.
It’s an actual shame as the moment ends. Emma slumps back down against the bed, and Ted gingerly pulls his fingers out of her. Her cunt is still dripping wet. Her slick is absolutely glistening on her lips, and Ted dives in once more. The least he can do is lick her clean again.
The hands in Ted's hair disappear, and instead he's now being pushed away by a hand on his forehead. Emma is looking down at him through lidded eyes, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.
“I thought you were here to fuck me , not just eat me out all night,” She's trying to use her ‘dom voice’ on him. Ted just smirks at her.
“What, have you never had good foreplay before?” Ted quips, and tries not to grimace when his back pops like a sheet of bubble wrap as he moves up Emma's body.
“I would not call coming twice foreplay,” Emma counters.
“Well maybe that’s just because your boyfriend’s shitty at oral,” Ted says “Doesn’t know how to take care of you properly.”
Paul whines and Ted takes that as his cue to kiss Emma again.
Ted starts unbuttoning his shirt, trying to pull his pants down at the same time. When he finally gets them off, Emma smirks.
“Didn’t take you for a jewellery guy,” Emma teases. She flicks the chain against his neck.
“I didn’t take you for someone who would fuck another man,” Ted quips back, “So maybe we should all just stop jumping to conclusions.”
Ted reaches around to undo her bra. It’s a fairly sensible black wire bra that doesn’t scream I plan on someone seeing this . But maybe this was the only nice bra she has. Ted makes a mental note to figure out her bra size and get her some actual lingerie if there’s ever a round two of whatever this is.
Her tits are small, like the rest of her, nothing to scoff at but they’re nothing to write home about. But nobody’s perfect, and she’s been so responsive that he decides not to mention it.
Ted grabs one of them and rolls his finger over her nipple. Emma shudders as he does, already sensitive. He takes the other one in his mouth, his teeth just grazing against her other.
“Ted–” Emma gasps, “Please.”
Ted smiles with the satisfaction of a job well done as he unlatches himself from her tit. He peppers kisses down her body before reaching over to the side table and grabbing the condom. He keeps eye contact with Emma as he tears the foil with his teeth. It’s a trick he learned in college and never failed to get girls' motors running, though Emma just looks at him with a look of vague disgust on her face.
Ted’s choosing to ignore that. He gets the condom on, gingerly entering her. She sucks in a breath as he bottoms out.
“What?” Ted asks “Your boyfriend not big enough for you? Not used to having a real dick inside you?”
Emma shamefully shakes her head. That gives Ted pause. From what he could see Paul was fairly average sized, but the way Emma looked away when she shook her head made him realise there was something deeper there. Something you really shouldn’t be getting into with the guy your boyfriend picked to cuck him with.
He just smirks, snapping his hips into her. He stays there for a while, just listening to the way that both Emma and Paul are moaning. It’s a goddamn symphony to Ted’s ears.
“Your boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Ted asks Emma.
She shakes her head, already looking away from him. She seems to pick a spot on his shoulder to stare at.
“That’s not an answer,” Ted says, leaning down to nuzzle his face against her collar bone. He kisses into her collar, nipping slightly at the skin there.
“No,” Emma says, “He’s never done anything like this before.”
“Shame,” Ted replies, “You make such pretty noises like this.”
Paul starts moaning once more, and Ted is pretty sure he's started jerking off again, which just makes Ted push into her faster. Emma whimpers under him. Ted loves all the little noises coming out of both of them right now.
God, it had been too long. There really is something about just ploughing into a chick while she’s just screaming under you. The addition of another guy making the most pornographic sounds about that fact was just the cherry on top of it all.
He sets a pace that lets him chase an orgasm while not overstimulating her, but she’s already so riled up that it’s not long until he’s pumping Emma to her third orgasm of the night.
“Fuck, Ted!” Emma cries, “Youresofuckinggoodatthis”
Ted’s head fucking spins as he realizes he can feel her squirting on his dick. Her nails rake down his back as she keeps babbling, and it’s so close to being enough.
Ted slows down slightly so as to not overstimulate her (that’s really something you have to discuss beforehand, that’s just good manners) but his dick feels like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t move. Every slow rock of his hips pulls a whimper out of him.
Ted Spankoffski does not beg for anything. Even when he bottoms, Ted does not beg. He takes what he need even if he gets punished for it afterwards, but fuck this girl is doing something to him.
“Please,” He lets out a shameful whine. “Fuck, I’m so fucking hard.”
He can’t bring himself to meet Emma’s gaze, but if he did he’d have seen her furrowing her brow. She looks over at Paul who shrugs his shoulders as he keeps one hand on his dick.
“Go ahead,” Emma says to Ted, “Go ahead and come.”
Ted picks up the pace, fucking deeper into her. It doesn’t take long for him to come. He stays in her for another second before pulling out and flopping down next to her on the bed. He glances over Emma quickly. She looks like she's been fucked within an inch of her life (he guesses she has been) and her hair is an absolute mess. Ted's probably isn't much better, he already knows Emma clawed all of the gel out of it.
His gaze slides back over to Paul. He's fisting his hand over his dick furiously, fucking up into his own hand, still whimpering pitifully. Their eyes meet, just for a moment. Apparently that's all it takes, and Ted's given the treat of watching him coat his fist in come. Paul practically collapses back in the stupid dining chair.
They all stay like that for a few moments in the silence. He’s starting to debate whether or not he should cuddle up to Emma when Paul says:
“Did you hear that?”
Ted doesn’t hear anything, but Paul must from the way he snaps to attention.
“Fuck, I think that’s Richie.” Paul says, pulling on a clean pair of pants.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be at his friend’s place?” Emma doesn’t seem particularly bothered, still looking like she’s trying to become one with the mattress.
“That’s what he said! I– Ted, I'm sorry, could you leave out the back door? Please? I’ll go. Talk to him.” Apparently it’s enough to get Paul doing the thing where he taps one fist on top of the other.
Ted just shrugs. “Yeah, sure, whatever man.” It isn’t the first time Ted’s been forced to sneak out after a hook-up, it definitely won’t be the last. Such is the life of a man about town.
Paul goes down first and Ted follows a few paces behind, giving him just enough space to play interference. It vaguely sounds like it’s turning into an argument, but Ted doesn’t really give a shit as he slips through the kitchen.
The last thing he hears before before slipping out the door is “RICHARD LIPSHITZ WHY IN GOD'S NAME IS YOUR HAIR BLUE!”