Milo moved behind her, his hands on her hips, steadying her as I continued to taste her. I felt more than saw him line up his cock, wet from my mouth, and push into her with one smooth thrust. June cried out, her body jerking forward with the force of it, driving her pussy harder against my mouth.
I adjusted my angle, keeping my tongue on her clit as Milo began to fuck her with deep, measured strokes. Each thrust pushed herforward, increasing the pressure against my tongue. I could see Milo’s cock sliding in and out of her, and occasionally I darted my tongue lower, tasting them both where they joined.
“Fuck, yes,” Milo groaned, his pace increasing. “Lick us both, X. That’s it.”
I obeyed eagerly, alternating between June’s clit and quick swipes along Milo’s shaft as he pushed into her. The dual tastes of them mingled on my tongue—June’s sweetness and Milo’s salt-musk, combining into something intoxicating.
June was trembling above me, her legs shaking with the effort of staying upright as pleasure built. I knew she was close—could read it in the pitch of her moans, the way her fingers tightened in my hair.
“I’m coming,” Milo warned, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck, June, I’m gonna fill you up.”
He slammed into her one final time, holding deep as he pulsed inside her. I felt June clench against my tongue, her own orgasm washing through her as Milo filled her. They clung to each other, shaking through the aftershocks, while I continued to lap gently at her sensitive flesh.
When Milo finally pulled out, his cum began to leak from June. I caught it eagerly with my tongue, cleaning her with long, thorough strokes that had her shivering all over again.
“My turn,” I said, rising to my feet and unfastening my jeans. My cock was painfully hard, leaking pre-cum, desperate for release.
Milo held June steady, her legs still weak from her orgasm, as I positioned myself at her entrance. I pushed inside her in one smooth thrust, groaning at the hot, wet heat of her, the added slickness of Milo’s cum making the glide effortless.
“God, X,” she gasped, her head falling back against Milo’s shoulder. “You feel so good.”
I captured her mouth with mine, letting her taste herself and Milo on my tongue as I began to move inside her. Milo held her securely, one arm around her waist, the other across her chest, supporting her as I fucked her with increasingly desperate thrusts.
It didn’t take long—I’d been on edge since the truck ride, and the taste of both of them still lingered on my tongue. I came with a strangled cry, burying myself deep inside June, my vision going white at the edges as pleasure crashed through me.
For a long moment, we stayed like that, connected, breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat despite the chill in the air. Then, carefully, I pulled out, tucking myself away as Milo lowered June to her feet.
She straightened her skirt with shaking hands, her cheeks flushed and hair mussed, looking thoroughly and beautifully debauched. “So,” she said, her voice still breathy, “do you guys like it? The property, I mean.”
Milo laughed, the sound echoing in the vast space of the barn. “Fuck yes, we like it. We fucking love it.”
“And you,” I added, pulling her close for another kiss. “We love you. This is perfect. All of it.”
We adjusted our clothes and continued exploring the barn, making plans as we walked—where the tool bench would go, how we’d set up the bikes for filming, the perfect spot for June’s engineering corner. Our voices bounced off the high ceiling, filling the space with possibilities, with futures, with promises neither of us had ever thought we’d be worthy of making.
But here we were, making them anyway. Together.
Epilogue - The Aimee Position Studio
Aimee
The red recording lightglowed in the corner of my studio as I leaned closer to the microphone, my voice dropping to that intimate tone that had become my podcast’s signature.
“So remember, compatibility isn’t just about what makes your heart race—it’s about who makes you feel safe enough to be vulnerable. That delicious, terrifying moment when you realize you trust someone enough to let them see all your messy parts? That’s the sweet spot.” I paused, letting the words land before continuing. “To start today’s episode, we have a very special group of guests. You may remember them from a completely unhinged threesome call a few months ago. Milo, Xavier, and their girlfriend June.”
I switched to speaker and set the phone down, pulling up Instagram on my computer. “How’s life in polyamorous paradise?”
“Fucking amazing,” Xavier’s voice cut in, that edge of defiance I remembered from our first conversation still there, but softened somehow. “Like, legitimately amazing.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I clicked on the most recent post from Milo’s account, a beautifully shot photo of the three of them at sunset, June nestled between the two men, her glasses catching the golden light as she smiled. The caption read: ‘Home isn’t always a place.’
It was a far cry from the awkward, slightly defensive call I’d received months ago, when Xavier and Milo had dialed in to my show on a dare, pretending to have a hypothetical question about “their friend” who was developing feelings for both his male best friend and a woman they were seeing. I’d spotted the deflection immediately—occupational hazard of being both a podcast host and a trained counselor—but played along, giving them genuine advice while respecting their thin veneer of deniability.
“We wanted to thank you,” June’s voice joined in, precise and earnest in that way I’d come to recognize. “Your advice really helped. Especially what you said about communication frameworks for complex relationship structures.”
I snorted. “I guarantee I never used the phrase ‘communication frameworks for complex relationship structures.’ That’s pure June-speak.”
“She’s translating,” Xavier said, a smile evident in his voice. “What she means is thanks for telling us we weren’t freaks for wanting what we want.”
