Catherine’s First Threesome, part 1

It had been an interesting evening so far. It was Friday night and my boyfriend, Devon, and I had been out clubbing. We’d hit a few bars and met up with Scott, a good friend of Devon’s. We’d just come back to the house and were relaxing over a few drinks and listening to some music. I was feeling good, not quite drunk but very, very buzzed. I felt warm and relaxed, definitely more than comfortable. Scott was sitting beside me on the couch, closer than was actually necessary; our legs were touching and his right arm was thrown across the top of the couch behind my back, almost as if he’d drape it across my shoulders. The fingers of his right hand brushed lightly against my shoulder.
I’d first gotten to know Scott when I started dating Devon; they hung out together a lot, which is how I’d met Scott in the first place. I’d been instantly attracted to him but he was normally so shy and reserved I’d never tried to do anything about the attraction. Over the year that Devon and I had been dating, Scott and I had become good friends, even spending time together apart from Devon. During that time it had occurred to me that Scott was attracted to me, as well. There was nothing major that gave it away, just little things, small clues that I’d been picking up on: The way he would gaze at me when he thought I wasn’t looking; the frequent, softly-spoken comments about my appearance, or what I was wearing, about how good I looked; how he was never too busy to help me out whenever I needed anything, or how he would have a tendency to drop all his other plans if I wanted to spend time with him; and most especially the way he would blush and look away from me any time I touched him. Yes, he was definitely into me. Nothing had ever happened between us though, in part because of Devon but also, and perhaps more importantly, because we were both too shy to make the first move. Something seemed different tonight, though. Ever since we’d met up with him tonight, Scott had been particularly attentive to me, buying me drinks (Whiskey cokes at first, then Colorado Bulldogs as the night progressed), sitting close to me, joking, flirting, touching me often; I enjoyed the attention a lot, and, as the alcohol took effect, I had been flirting back, in a quite obvious way. Devon had been with us the whole time and surely must have noticed it; if it bothered him, though, he gave no indication of it, acting as if nothing were happening.
Suddenly Scott’s fingers, that had been merely brushing against my shoulder, tightened around me as he drew my body gently against his; at the same time I felt him lean in until his mouth was close to my ear and whisper, “God, Catherine, I want you so badly right now.” As he said this, I felt the tip of his tongue, hot and wet, flick across my earlobe and trace a line of warmth down my neck. My whole body tingled at his touch and I couldn’t suppress a low moan. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Devon was seated on the arm of the couch beside me, watching intently, and with evident interest. I saw Scott glance at him questioningly.