Dylan Gonzalez is by far, the most attractive person Amber had ever met. *Met*, not *seen*, she’d like to emphasize, as a good handful of conventionally attractive people she’s liked looking at aren’t all that pretty anymore after she’s gotten to know them properly.
That’s the thing about Dylan; Amber hadn’t paid much attention to him initially, and didn’t know much about him beyond what most people do when they meet him for the first time: loud, hilarious, witty, and fun to talk to. With a friendly sense of humor and the personality of a beagle, he’s definitely popular on campus for his charisma. It was only after he came up to her—asking for some help on an assignment, since he cut a class that week—that she started getting to know him well. Too well, actually.
Admittedly, it was pretty weird at first, being able to relate to someone so easily—but now, she may just be as close to him as he is with his roommate Aaron. Even though those two have been together for a longer period of time and harbor a special connection probably only reserved for like, soulmates or something, she’s managed to slip herself into their dynamic relatively easily. But what’s even weirder is how dear , he—and Aaron, by extension, by fortune, by *providence*—are to her now, so much so she finds herself missing people she’s already with. As if she’d been missing them way before she even knew who they were.
“Hey, where do you wanna eat?” Amber asks as everyone starts filing out of the classroom.
“We could try that new Korean barbecue place?” Dylan suggests. His newly dyed blonde hair isn’t parted today. With his bangs swiping gingerly across his eyebrows, his face looks a lot more innocent and puppy-like than usual. Amber has to suppress the urge to take him into her arms (no matter how much she knows he wouldn’t mind). It doesn’t help that the cold air tickles his cheeks into a deep peach, as if his fluffy yellow sweater and bulky brown coat didn’t warm him up enough.
“Ugh, but I bet that place is packed right now,” Amber says.
“Yeah, true,” Dylan agrees solemnly. Normally he’d be the type to go either way, but the dark rings under his eyes and stray sighs of exhaustion say otherwise. He’s told Amber that he’s been finding it difficult to sleep lately, despite how tired he’s been. Though she’s not sure what to chalk it up to—if it’s all the requirements and studying he has to do with finals right around the corner, or if it’s just the simple fact that he needs to eat more—he’s been hesitant to talk about it in detail, let alone why. The best Amber can do is brew his tea, stay by his side, and hope that’s enough to compel the universe to let him rest soundly.
Suddenly, he perks up, brows lifting up the bangs across his forehead cartoonishly, “You could come over and I could make you something?”
“Definitely,” Her urge to embrace him is getting harder and harder to suppress as he smiles with all his teeth and his cheeks. Amber thinks to herself that this is better; *this is the Dylan she knows.*
“All right then, it’s a date,” Dylan says with his cheekiest smile.
He’s normally this flirty with almost everyone, so she tries not to think too much of it as she responds back with a playful, “Oh, you spoil me too much, babe.”
Dylan chuckles at that, looking down at Amber’s small frame, before taking her hand into his. He’s a naturally touchy person, and Amber doesn’t mind holding his hand for a bit since they’re pretty close friends anyway. But it’s the last thing she expects when he brings her hand to his lips, kissing chastely along her knuckles. “Anything for you, love.”
That’s what shocks Amber into standing completely still for a few moments, brain scrambling to make sense of the action. *Okay, this is just Dylan,* her poor old frazzled brain supplies, *So this must be some kind of joke*, and ends up masking her denial with rationalization, *Yeah! For sure, this is a joke*.
She decides to let out an awkward laugh, playfully nudging at Dylan’s chest. “Haha, keep that up and I’ll think you actually like me.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Is his response, quirking his lips into a smirk.
“Only because you’re a good cook,” Amber says, before realizing her hand is still in Dylan’s hold. She quickly releases to pick up her bag, trying hard not to remember the sensation of his lips against her skin. “Anyways, let’s go.”
—
The thing about Dylan is that it’s not a slap in the face how attractive he is.
He’s more of like, a relaxing massage, really. There are times when Amber’s just casually talking to him and she’s focused on how his gaze is sinking into her slowly, allowing her to focus on just how deeply brown his eyes are, until she’s struck with the intense need to look closer, and find out just how much deeper they go. Until the color sinks into her, and she’s already lost track of what he’s saying.
Other times, it feels like the puncture of a needle.
Like when she watched him slip out of all of his thicker layers of clothing, leaving him in a thin black shirt that embraced his torso too well. It worries her to think that he’s been working out lately, for a myriad of complicated reasons that mostly boil down to him losing some of the roundness in his cheeks to make way for sharper bone, and on the other hand, Amber losing her general sanity. But if he enjoys it, then she doesn’t say anything about it. Amber likes Dylan in any way he wishes to present himself.
“Want some tea?” He offers, looking through some cabinets.
“Sure,” Amber says, sinking easily into his and Aaron’s squeaky couch, making herself comfortable as she brings her knees into her chest “Where’s Aaron?”
“Sleeping.” Dylan says as the water begins to settle down from its boil.
Amber nods then says, “That’s good—that’s something both of you need to do right now.”
Then, Dylan walks over to her, holding an enticingly warm mug of tea. He sits next to her, “I think it’s what you need to do too.”
“Mhm,” Amber hums in agreement. When she takes a long, satisfying sip from her tea, she feels her eyelids get heavier. Instantly, the liquid spreads across her chest and relaxes her muscles. *Damn, where did Dylan get this tea?* And then her vision slowly eases into the dark blur of slumber.
–
What stirs Amber awake is a warm weight clinging on the side of her body, calming but heavy as it stalls her movements. It’s difficult, then, to discern whether she’s awake or not, but when she blinks her eyes open, she’s met with a mess of blonde hair and sleepy eyes. It’s Dylan, all cute and puffy from his nap.
As if on cue, his cheeks tint a peachy color as soon as she wakes up fully and focuses on his face. “I—Uh—I’m so sorry, I just got cold and the heater is jammed so it isn’t really doing its job as a heater” Dylan starts explaining, already scrambling to get off of her.
(At the back of her mind she wonders how the heck she managed to get to the bed when she was on the couch just a moment ago).
But, that aside, she does like laying with Dylan. So, she holds him tighter by the waist, keeping him still against her body. “It’s okay, we can still cuddle a bit.”
“Oh,” His cheeks blush deeper, “All right,” he says, before he gets closer to her with a satisfied hum.
“What about me? I’m pretty cold too,” Dylan says from the edge of the bed, and wait. What? She looks at the Dylan in her arms, who simply blinks at her with sleepy eyes and a kissable pout, then raises herself on her elbows only to see. Another Dylan. Whose hair is a clean black, parted at the right and swept to the side, and stands there clad in the fitted black shirt and jeans from earlier. It’s a stark contrast to the blonde Dylan in her arms, whose hair is a fluffy mess of bangs, all bundled up in a baggy sweater.
She blinks her eyes heavily, once, twice, thrice. “Surprised?” they both say at the same time. Blonde Dylan’s voice was accompanied with a yawn. Dark-haired Dylan’s voice was accompanied with a quirk of his lips.
“Huh,” By the time she realizes that the edges of her vision are slightly blurred, and that the control she has over her body is slightly hazy, she concurs that this must be a dream for sure. A very lucid one. “I see,” She lies back down, confident that she’d processed everything correctly. Black haired Dylan simply chuckles, as the Dylan beside her wraps his arms around her torso and curls into her.
“Hey, no going back to sleep now,” dark haired Dylan says, as he walks toward the side of the bed. She cranes her head up at him, and suddenly feels a wave of bleary heat course through her as he looks down at her. She thinks she’s seen this kind of Dylan plenty of times before, at the library, when she’d rounded a corner and spotted him gazing out of the window. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but in that moment he appeared so *profound*—he struck her as captivating. As if he could take one glance at her, and know exactly what makes her shiver.
But there’s something different this time—something more intense and more hypnotizing. A darkness in his gaze that dominates her senses.
He drags an elegant hand up her chest, “You see, I’m an *incubus*. And I’ve been starving these past few weeks,” then wraps his fingers around her neck, drumming a gentle beat into her veins, “Since I wanted to wait and try tasting you at your ripest,” He tightens his fingers, as the blonde Dylan beside her hums and draws circles into her stomach (she can hear him faintly whispering, “*so hungry*”).
“Do you understand?” Dylan’s hands move up to grip her jaw underneath strong fingers. Amber gulps under his grip, not knowing how to respond. “Let me ask that again, all nice and clear,” He grips just that bit tighter, threatening to choke her throat, “Will you behave for us?” At that, he tilts his head in the direction of his smirk.
Suddenly Amber’s compelled to do anything for a man with a gaze like that—so, she nods once, but slow and cautiously. His fingers loosen at that, but at the back of her mind she admits that she misses the electricity of his deeper touch.
But in less than a moment, the blonde Dylan slips a hand underneath her shirt, “*Hmm*, wanna have you now,” he says, before nuzzling his face into her neck and pressing his lips against her skin. The line of warmth he draws from her jaw down to her clavicle coerces a breathy sigh out of her—but before she can make any more noise, the side of the bed dips down at the weight of the other Dylan who bends and angles her face to his. He commands her into an intense kiss, catching her lips and inviting them open with a slip of his tongue. The deepness of the kiss has Amber sitting up to get even deeper, craning her head to the side to slot her tongue against his more decadently. One of them pulls her shirt over her head, and both of them run their hands feverishly across her bare body. Going infinitely dizzy at the stream of distinct sensations that surge throughout her, she tightens her hold into someone’s hair—just too hazed out to figure out whose. Either way, both Dylans let out sounds: one easy whine, and the other a deep groan.
Still, though, despite the haze, there’s a question dangling at the tip of her tongue. As soon as the black-haired Dylan pulls away, she asks breathlessly: “Uhm…why are there two of you?”
At that, he laughs. “Was wondering when you’d ask that,” he smiles, amused by her curiosity, “You see, incubi specialize in materializing what you desire the most,” His hand drags up her waist to squeeze at a breast—she gasps in a breath. “As for me, I’m particularly good at constructing desirable personalities,” he kisses down her face, while the blonde Dylan kisses down the shell of her ear. “Usually though, my victims stick to one version of me. But based on my observations, you seem to long for two varieties.”
“Cute, innocent, and friendly,” the blonde Dylan mutters by her ear, and his needy voice is too hard to resist playing around with—so Amber turns her head and slots her lips into his, savoring the sweet moan she manages to draw out of him.
“Mature, smart, and dependable,” the black haired Dylan adds, before biting at her neck and sucking, fingers pulling at a nipple to coax a noise out of Amber.
“D-Dylan—” she gasps out, as another hand slides in from behind to dip in between her legs, palming at her wetness.
Pulling off of her neck he looks at Amber with a strict gaze, and she yelps when he slaps at her breast, “That’s Sir to you.”
Behind her, the blonde Dylan says kindly, “You can just call me Dylan if you want,” as he draws gratifying circles around her clit, his lithe index fingers pressing so heavily into it that it makes her thighs twitch.
“Kiss me?” Dylan asks, and who is she to deny him? Amber captures his lips into an easy kiss, and another, and another, as if she can’t get enough of the flavor and the sensation. All the while, someone is kissing down the planes of her thighs, critically near her wet core.
“How about you get more comfortable—here, lie down,” Dylan suggests as he guides her body back down on the bed, her head resting upon his thigh.
In this new position she has a dangerously attractive face in between her legs, kissing at her abdomen and avoiding where she needs him the most. “Sir, *please*,” she gasps out desperately.
“Please what?” He asks, before blowing at her wetness.
“Please—please stop teasing me, Sir,” She cries out, her hips bucking toward his face, all shame thrown out the window just because he’s just so hot and he’s just right *there*, right in between her legs and in front of her arousal.
At that, he spreads her open wide with both of his thumbs, watching in fascination as she throbs and trembles for his gaze. “I do like the sound of your begging,” he says, before slowly dragging his tongue up her wetness, then splaying it right over her clit, eliciting a high pitched hum from the confines of Amber’s chest. She’s so overwhelmed by the sensation that she turns her head to the side, only to be greeted by Dylan’s stiff cock.
“Couldn’t help it,” He says softly the moment she sees it. Poor boy, had he been waiting this whole time? Not wanting to leave him out, she drifts her hand up to wrap her fingers around his cock and stroke him. “*Ah!*” He gasps out, his chest panting softly at the abrupt contact.
As Amber presses into the head of his cock and smears the precum around, Sir takes his sweet time sweeping burning letters into her clit with his tongue. It has her running her fingers into his neatly styled hair, only for her to roughen it up with her tugging. Amber desperately needs something in her mouth to receive all of the moans she has at the back of her throat, but at this angle she can’t exactly put Dylan’s cock into her mouth without it being at least mildly uncomfortable. So instead, she settles for licking at the side of his length, digging her palm into the messy tip as she goes along.
“Oh god, *oh god*,” Dylan all but whines into the hot air, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and thighs twitching every now and then.
“Such a greedy slut, can’t even last a minute without something to occupy you,” Sir criticizes, licking her wetness off the corner of his mouth “But I guess I’ll reward you for pleasing him,” he adds, before slipping two fingers inside of her. The intrusion has her mouth breathing heavily against Dylan’s cock, but Sir doesn’t stop there—his tongue goes back to her clit as he finger fucks her until her climax edges at the very precipice of her self-control.
“Don’t cum until he cums,” Sir demands unfairly as he slips a third finger into her, coiling them upwards into the spot that makes her mind blank out and her limbs go pliant. He clicks his tongue when she doesn’t respond, and stops the movement of his fingers. “*Amber*. Did I make myself clear?”
“Y-yes Sir, I won’t cum until Dylan cums,” she stutters out, as she twists her hand around Dylan’s cock. At that, Sir starts moving his fingers again, stirring them around and *curling* them up at his will. She’s just his favorite toy to play with.
“*Please, please, please,*” Dylan whines out prettily, as if he were the one being rapidly finger fucked right now. Amber isn’t sure what he’s begging for, but she presses wet and open mouthed kisses down his stiffness to satisfy his needs, wanting nothing more than to have this beautiful man to cum because of her ministrations. Wanting nothing more than to cum herself—wanting nothing more than to have both of these men fill her up with their cocks.
The mere thought has her already swollen clit throbbing, but she can’t cum yet, not until Dylan does. So, in order to get what she wants faster, she decides to stop being their ragdoll, sitting up and turning around—
“H-huh?” Dylan’s eyes widen.
—and taking Dylan’s cock into her mouth. She bobs her head, and slides her tongue around the length, swallowing the precum and the bitterness and the saltiness and the sheer weight of it all. Dylan’s initial shock has dissipated away to make way for his desperate hiccups, and he’s already crying as his hips buck into her mouth. “So pretty, so—so *pretty*, *hmnh*, oh god, *shit*.”
Amber is so aroused right now that she doesn’t notice that Sir is laughing exasperatedly, “God, such fucking sluts the both of you,” he says, before gripping at her ass harshly. He bends over and whispers into her ear, “but you’re the sluttiest out of all of us. So desperate to get that pussy stuffed you actually took matters into your own hands,” as he slips his three fingers back into her entrance.
“W-wait, wait, um,” Dylan suddenly pants out, as he pulls Amber off of his cock. He stops her wrist from stroking him any further too. But he was so close, Amber could tell—what, with the leaking and throbbing of his used cock.
“What is it?” Sir asks, nonchalantly fingerfucking Amber back into a malleable state. What a prick—she thinks absentmindedly, even as her hips push back to meet his knuckles.
“I wanna finish inside of her,” Dylan confesses.
“Hm, all right then,” Sir decides, “She’s damn lucky you’re a romantic.”
*Guys, I’m right here*, Amber almost says, but the words choke off before she can say them because Sir is dragging his tongue against her cunt again, as his fingers work their way inside of her.
After all of that hard work, Amber’s self-control can’t handle it anymore and her orgasm shocks a gasp out of her. Sir is insistent though, his fingers pressing into that sensitive spot continuously as he drinks up her orgasm hungrily. Her body shakes, and shivers against his mouth for a good minute or so, Amber isn’t sure anymore—she’s so sensitive she can’t even tell how much time has passed.
Once Sir is finally satisfied, he pulls away. And Dylan, ever the sweetest, lifts Amber up and kisses her trembling lips back to calmness, “Shh, hey, you’re so good for us, so perfect,” he presses an intimate palm against her twitching abdomen, “I wanna be inside you so bad. Want that too, baby?”
Despite just cumming a minute ago, Amber nods briskly, “Yes, yes , please fuck me *now*.”
After pressing a few more chaste kisses to her lips and her face, Dylan twists Amber around, runs his hands down her spine, then presses her down to her knees. Leaving her to face another cock— Sir’s. It looks exactly the same as Dylan’s, since they’re the same person afterall, but knowing the owner of it, Amber’s sure he’s going to handle it rougher with her. After realizing this, she swallows down her excitement.
“Hm? Are you just gonna stare?” He bucks his hips forward, his cock’s precum smearing along the corner of her lips, “Why don’t you be a good slut and suck me off like you did to him earlier?” He asks in a faux sweet voice. At the same time, Dylan teases the head of his cock at her wet entrance.
Not wanting to leave him waiting any longer, Amber licks shyly at Sir’s cock as he rests his hand into her hair. She looks up at him with curious eyes, wondering if she’s doing it the way he likes. He’s not as vocal nor as responsive as Dylan is. And when he tilts his head and looks down at her with his tongue in his cheek, it isn’t particularly an encouraging response. Emboldened by his judgemental gaze, she takes him into her mouth—but he still doesn’t seem satisfied.
“Is that it? How disappointing,” he chastises as he starts to slowly pull out of her mouth. Not wanting to lose to his teasing, Amber moves forward to chase the heat of his length, until suddenly, Dylan stuffs his entire cock inside of her with a gasp, pushing her forward and making her gag around Sir’s cock.
“*Mmf,*” she moans around his length, tears spilling from her eyes. The vibration of the sound makes Sir’s eyebrow twitch. *Finally, a reaction*. Trying to keep him satisfied, she drags her tongue around the underside of his cock, but anything is difficult to accomplish when Dylan starts fucking into her at an agonizingly patterned pace—quickly pulling out, then slowly pushing in, making sure to press heavily into the spot in her that makes her burn the sloppiest.
Nevertheless, Amber proceeds to take Sir down her mouth, addicted to the sparkling tremors that run down her spine whenever his cock hits the back of her throat.
“Now that’s it,” Sir sighs out as he grips her hair tighter. “So that’s what you needed for you to do your job right—” he grins devilishly “—A cock shoved into you ‘til your cervix.”
“But maybe our precious slut is having a hard time multitasking,” He pulls her off his cock by the hair, and he watches as tears spill from her eyes when she coughs from all of the choking, “How about you just keep your filthy mouth open and your pretty legs spread? And we’ll do all of the work for you.”
When Amber finishes coughing, she croaks out a small “Yes, Sir,” before obeying his command and sticking her tongue out for him.
Sir slips his cock past her lips slowly, before fucking it up her throat. He makes her gag on it, once, “Fucking,” twice, “*Slut.*”
His words make her clench her entrance and it draws out a chain of “Ah, ah ah ”s from Dylan’s chest before he starts fucking into her faster. He presses a flutter of quick kisses down her spine, “Wanna—wanna cum in you,” He chokes on a gasp, “C-can I cum in you?”
Amber gazes up at Sir with teary eyes in an attempt to communicate that yes, *I want both of you to cum in me*.
He seems to take the the hint. “Are you kidding? Of course she wants you to cum in her. Bet she wants to be filled up even more. I could fabricate another one of me if she wants, he could take her up the ass and fill her up there.”
She whines out her disagreement around Sir’s cock, and his eyebrows furrow as he practically cements the shape of his cock into the back of her head. Amber would collapse if there was anything more than this: being fucked stupid down the throat and being fucked senseless down the other side. She’s so overstimulated that she’s almost numb at this point, but Sir and Dylan are relentlessly reminding her of her ability to feel and feel *intensely*. They keep taking, using her for their own satisfaction, yet still conscious of how to make her feel the pleasure so hotly to the point that it’s almost frigid.
Suddenly, Dylan’s pace stutters, and he pants out a stream of gasps, pace speeding up.
“ *Hah*, cum—*ngh*, I’m gonna—*cumming*,” He hiccups out, thrusting into her once, twice, thrice, and Sir does not let her off his cock until Dylan finishes. She only belatedly realizes that she’d came at some point as well, feeling the aftershocks vibrate through out her limbs as Dylan rails her to oblivion.
“Aaaahh, *hmh*,” Dylan sighs out as he gives one final thrust—before spilling his hefty load into her. Pulling Amber by the head, Sir finally lets her off of his cock as Dylan’s cum fills her up delectably, all the way to the brim. A line of spit connects her tongue to the head of Sir’s wet length.
Sir looks down at her with an indiscernible look. She expects him to say something degrading again. But instead, he bends down to gently slip his tongue against her used one. It’s such a messy kiss that saliva drips down from her mouth, but Sir groans at the dirtiness, and swallows down her noises eagerly.
“Kiss me too, please,” Dylan begs. Body and mind practically bared down to complete pliancy, she takes his lips into hers. As she slots her lips against his, she’s too fucked-out and clueless to realize that a cock is entering her again until it hits the spot in her that flashes her sight with a staggeringly hot white.
“Thought we were finished?” Sir rasps out as he fucks the cum back into her again, again, and *again*.. “This is why you have to be,” It has Amber going practically cross-eyed, “*Careful* what you wish for.”
“So good, so good for us,” Dylan whispers by her ear, his fingers lazily pressing at her clit, trying to coax out one last orgasm from her.
“Such a good fucking slut for us,” Sir whispers, as he continues pounding quick and with a purpose, biting the inside of his cheek, finally making some noise: a string of low, short grunts as his chest heaves up and down handsomely. Even on the verge of an orgasm this man is unfathomably pretty.
“You’re so perfect.” Dylan says.
“You’re so addicting,” Sir adds.
“Wanna make you feel good all the time.”
“Wanna be with you for real.”
Amber doesn’t know which Dylan says what anymore, mind already too hazed out to comprehend anything beyond a sob. But somehow, she manages to reply too, just as she feels her last climax surge through out her body like thick, and smoldering lava. “Sir! Dylan! *D-dylan*—”
Dylan’s hips falter, as he groans out a low, “F-fuck.”
And then finally, she’s filled to the absolute brim until it all drips out of her: the cum, the whines, the breaths, the tears, and all the feelings she’d been denying herself.
—
“God, I just had the weirdest dream,” Aaron grumbles before yawning.
“Haha, same,” Amber says, hoping Aaron doesn’t notice her blush as she recalls the hot snippets of her own dream just earlier.
“Aaron,” She calls out as he goes over to retrieve his toast.
“Yeah?”
She simply watches as he takes a bite of his sandwich, “Is it just me or is Dylan really good looking?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says through a mouthful of bread before swallowing, “Has he shown you his workout routine? He’s got that shit down to a *science*.”
“Yeah, yeah, right?” Amber nods quickly, a bit shocked at eagerly he agrees, almost as if she’d taken the words straight out of his mouth, “But there’s something about him?”
Aaron walks over and is nodding all through out as he makes his way next to her on the couch. “And he’s really cute,” Aaron says way too easily as he sets his sandwich down on a plate, eyebrows furrowed as he continues, as if he’s also not sure why he’s discussing his friend’s attractiveness in critical detail, “In like, a boyish, kinda fresh way—”
“But he’s hot too,” both of them say at the same time.
In that moment, her eyes meet Aaron like the both of them just found out they were bound by blood, struck by an intense sense of solidarity.
“Yo,” Aaron starts, before slumping back into the couch, huffing out a laugh, “I think we had the same dream.”
–
note: this is one of my most self-indulgent pieces…as always apologies for any logic lapses and grammar errors and thank you so so much for reading! comments make me the happiest writer ^w^
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/wb484d/sweet_dreams_m20f20m20_incubus_mfm_threesome
Updateme
Really fucking good