Author's note: Here we go again with another imagine which this time will be a threesome with Fred and Tim and the female reader. If you aren't into threesome or you aren't feeling comfortable reading it, subsequently you better leave right now since that ain't your jam.

In addition to the wee prompt for this imagine is that the female reader and Timothy are a couple for a year, besides Fred is a really dear close friend of yours! 

Anyway I hope you like and enjoy the imagine as well!

A special dedication to all wonderful lovelies:  Trash_Bag_123 (My lovely bitch, of course), JunykoWalker, Celeste-Moore, sociopathsis, southernauthor, -httpslut, BookdragonAS, cherryannesausa, BecciXxXx, stallonesgirl and NeahMyah! <33333333

Trigger Warning For 🔥Alcohol, Strong Language & Sexual Content🔥

--- *** ---

"I am still amused we have to go visit him!" At the moment, the former holy priest's pristinely delicate, alabaster fingers crooked around the hairbrush as you seated beside the dressing table in the bedroom you both traded for a half a year, boring your E/C cabochons into the manipulated photogenic reflection ornamenting the brilliantly crystal mirror. His other mammoth, veiny hand's tissues gingerly snatched a fistful of H/C silken tresses to graze delicately, infernally intoxicating his digits and fingertips. "Oh God! Fred!" A wryly rueful pout twisted across the older gentleman's unblemishedly porcelain, freshly young-looking complexion at the very thought of your close friend.

"He is just a close friend that is eccentric, but he is just Fred." The haphazardness of the hoarseness prominently divine foaming your utterance shortly after the sharp constriction of your brittle chest, the linger of your celestially piercing stare on the manipulated reflection illustrating ethereally down-to-earth your bonded duo at last. "He is unchangeable, sweetie!" Maneuvering to quirk heinously jovial your eyebrow at the sudden pause that stung shortly before your bottom vermillion painted lip curled at the vocal pressure petering out the vocal tissues' stability.

"Sometimes the friends want something else than just friendship, you know," After enduring the ever-lastingly hedonistic, gentle rake of the fistfuls of locks, thereafter the older gentleman registered to tuck a fistful of hair behind your amenable ear as he tossed the hairbrush emphatically to perch on top of the dressing table. Timothy's masculinely strong, orthodoxy creamy fingers cradled softly the crispy softness of your lion mane, admiring its youthful luster and rich anatomy. "Rare bird!" A honey-mouthed coo bubbled up from his Adam's apple shortly after the vowels and syllables' vibration seethed the flex of the fleshy muscles, whereas his naturally baby-pinkish, deliciously plumpish lips planted a meaningfully affectionate, succumbingly heartwarming peck on top of your head. Meantime, you eagerly pursued for his entincingly bewitching, pink lips to seal with yours tenderly, ever-lastingly divine.

"That's right, howsoever, he doesn't have malicious intentions to put his nose where he doesn't have some sort of mandatory business!" Once you sealed heavenly jovial your lips with his into hardening, sultry kiss as the former pious man of the cloth channelized to bend down to capture your mouth, throughout you wrenched searingly uneven your eyelids shut to relish divinely beatific into the brief romantic moment you exchanged with one another. The rusty hitch of your warm breathing pulsated ethereally afflictive into your chests and syncing its promisingly welcoming, severely vehement heart pulses' thuds matching with the sore ode thumping unpredictably fleet into your vulnerable ears.

Your current outfit was a mint green cotton dress with jewel neckline partly leaking your exquisitely cryptic and insatiable collarbones bonded with your delicate shoulder blades as its perky hem flared fiercely fiery across slightly above your round, lovely knees. A cashmere jet-black blazer gingerly swathed your torso and its hem nonchalantly cascading to your pelvis, whereas jet-black pumps secured your feet. Notwithstanding your fashionably simple attires' combination extraordinarily authentic forming its outfit's exemplar, nevertheless, silver bracelets binded gingerly your delicate wrists and jade droplet earrings and a handful of rings embellishing your outstandingly impressive physique.

Anyway your boyfriend's recent clothing was a mere pair of denim jeans swathing conveniently his drop-dead gorgeous, slender legs, paired with a charcoal gray cotton shirt embroidered on his muscly, toned torso except a handful of stubbornly bland buttons were dumped undone to expose dimly his naturally kinky, thickly dark chest hair rippling his cleavage. In addition to his appealingly ordinary looks, ebony sneakers shoed his larger feet and a practical leather brown watch bracing his wrist. Last but not least, the gracefully infectious fragrance of pungent masculine perfume wafted into your tiny, flexible nostrils with each quietly nonchalant inhale surging to snort its oxygen as well.

--- *** ---
--- A Half an Hour Later or So ---

Once you and the British compatriot managed to flee your very property to pay a visit to your pearly close friend of yours for a dinner night, factly, you haven't assembled entirely in awhile, your arrival inexorably staged just a half an hour later and escorting meekly your boyfriend as he pulled off his jet-black cab to the majestically monumental two-story house towering even the tallest people with its marvelously delightful, realistically breathtaking illustration bonded with the ocean of flowerbeds embellishing prominently the unhappily married owner of the property.

The sunset's twilight could be formatted its own luxuriously vibrant, aesthetic nuances three of a kind holy medley of pink, orange and yellow tinting promiscuously enticing the sky blanket swathing conveniently its outer layer of the background, whereas vast ocean of translucently hazy clouds overcastted, almost scarcely outnumbering the lonely sun that petered out slowly but surely. It bears a semblance of a genuinely serene, enticing paradise wafting into the twains of jewels spearing the prospect, starkly luminous glint of bewitchingly magnificence candidly admiring the crispy jumpcut to the daily nocturnal episode. Each elapsing second, each elapsing minute and each elapsing hour uneasily ticked, escorting docilely its humdrum pace.

The arduously tiresome, bluntly dull car engine's hum tingled alarming tones into your and Timothy's amenable ears even though the obdurately ominous attempts of your sweet nothings and coos to dethrone ruthlessly vindictive the repetitive ballad rippled your delicate epidermis with rich crop of horripilation of your overall arms and legs' fleshy armor. The heinously broad, seamlessly silken huge grins curved upon your angelically cherub lips.

In a long minute of halting the car engine and working his orthodoxy feather-soft, deft fingers on the car key to be hauled from its entrance, thereafter you hopped out of the cab in a jiffy, whereas the early evening prospect embraced you with the perkily dim spring breeze fanning your hairs and attires. The dull slam of the car's door inexorably pitched the background accompanying the front door's villainously nefarious wail emanating a couple of feet distance as well. The owner of the property's one of his mammoth hand's masculinely potent, nimble fingers cradled the doorknob, whereas his cinnamon brown huge, roundish depths glazed the vista of you and the former pious member of the clergy.

Meantime, a villainously sympathetic, huge smirk etched past Fred's naturally pale-pinkish, scrumptiously plumpish lips and the stark radiance highlighting fabulously his facial features, while his inescapable light-heavy wrinkles crinkled joyously, yet the heart pulses' rabidly rapid amplification rumbled up his chest and its vehemently agitated thumps into his amenable ears.

"Let's see who just came!" The healthy sardonic hoarseness of Fred's northern lilt puncturing his mumble didn't vanish once you and the British aristocrat maneuvered to approach the older gentleman, grappling one another's hands and knitting your long, nimble fingers to meagerly separate your pairing. "Hi Tim and Y/N!"

"Oh hi, Fred! It is good to see you." At the moment, the younger gentleman managed a docile bob of his head and maintaining an adequately intimate proximity sufficiently inching the commander's frail skeleton, whilst abrading iron-willedly stubborn its magnanimous eye contact you, your boyfriend and your buddy exchanged stably.

"Hey!"

"You look marvelous tonight!" The sympathetically emboldening tones tangy accentuation of the indubitably heartwarming compliment molted your hearts promptly, bearing a semblance of the mightiest hex being recently casted on it's a prey of the supernatural clout bashing them severely effortless the tender muscles and the hurricane of thoughts like a mindlessly unthinkable, brashly crude plague.

"Why thank you!" A gullibly radiant, cheerful grin broadly spread across your pastel pink-painted cherubic lips instantaneously at the pearly encouraging compliment, whereas the younger man's gaze sheathed in its translucently thin veil of unavoidably implausible dim jealousy brightly flared its thickly luminous flames kindling his smoky quartz gems landed on you and then the commander. Even the pettiest compliment kindled its inevitably chubby flares of the brassly apocalyptic wildfire of wee inkling of jealousy and mild abhorrence.

The green-eyed-monster's very being had almost always won invincibly its wars against the preys of the jealousy whose attempts to obscure headstrongly the green-eyed-monster's unimaginably formidable might. It was one of the most unbeatable, formidable epitomes of the apocalyptical demise of the living beings' healthy, ever-lastingly stable relationships they reined together and the utter control over their true sentiments and emotions simmering. It was one of the most hideously disastrous creatures that have ever resided in the people's emotions and feelings for a long time even at the mildest tendency of pearly cordial, high-spiritedly stirring compliments and certain gestures freely demonstrated even in the most platonic notion.

The fiercely unavoidable jealousy could be interpreted in diversity of versions and fathoming its genuine context even relentlessly baleful aftermaths. Nobody was a keen fan of one of the most venomously lethal sentiments seething inside the pits of their stomachs while contemplating through the abstractly realistic, absolutely disastrous landscapes of their beloved angels even earning the most innocuous cheek kiss or the most kindheartedly reassuring, doting hugs binding their spines and syncing the duo's heavy heart pulsations thumping against one another. Anyway almost nobody can escape the bloodthirstily hair-rising, unimaginably monstrous claws of the fervency rumbling up to orbiting its subtle tandem.

"How are you doing little lovey-doveys?" Once the gentlemanly stubborn grasp of the doorknob to linger the front door's tremendously inviting space offered to the recent visitants, consequently you and Timothy stepped inside the corridor of the mansion without an ado, escorting its meekly innocuous whisper of your elaborated footsteps' drums against the floor spotlighting the accent of your very presences populating the site's interior eventually. The doubtless graciousness of Fred spotlighted his vibrant nature leaking through his even informal colloquy with every warrior hazardously daredevil interacting with him.

"We're actually well!" The haphazardness of the slam shut front door nefariously whined followed by the single click articulating the locked door, whilst your lover aided you authentically meaningful, gentlemanly to discard the blazer from your torso as his colossal, masculinely protective hands slithered to peel off from your satin arms slowly but surely its conveniently soothing fabric. "What about you too?"

"I'm also doing well, Tim!" Meanwhile, the British aristocrat ushered the blazer to be lugged hung fashionably on the coat rack immediately, while you manifested to kick off your pumps as Fred offered you a pair of comfy slippers to hop up in them. The dryness of bluff muffled cough of the host with the palm of his mammoth, ghostly pale hand during his obdurate attempt to clear the thickness hypodermically brimming his throat conveyed its friendly reminder of a sharp pause for a split second stinging the background even though the amalgamation of the silver-tongued birdsongs bonded with the crickets' velvety requiem coherently nonchalant grumbling the very walls of the building and its expansive yard. "I have to admit I am missing the times when we bonded platonically just like for dinner as if we are actually a family or the best of friends, you know!"

"What is wrong with having a dinner with your wife Serena, Fred?" All of a sudden, you and the male pairing ushered to participate in your outstanding company on your mission to set foot inside the kitchen shortly after your briefly promising, clumsy dawdle in the corridor. The bare wintriness accentuating licentiously unavoidable Fred and Timothy's mutual conversation couldn't be even oppressed due to your megawattly coherent eavesdropping, struggling to elaborate its tender flex of your fleshy throat muscles to swig the bitter lump seething its armor's core.

Little did you and your lover knew behind the scenes of the despondency of the powerfully calloused statue-clad host whose heart of steel was desperately enveloped in its unsacredly unpromising low-spirits of his wedlock and sharing the rest of his days legitimately with his spouse Serena. Little did you know what might be the eminent motive of the unimpressive absolute reality of Serena and Fred's marriage and how the unhappiness jumpcut to its desperate roar of divorce quite soon if certain issues and flaws weren't seamlessly shellaced lastly.

Even though you and the former devotional clergyman weren't avid fans of sticking your noses into the others' personal lives even your small circle of close friends you were possessing, anyway the childlikely pure, earnest pryingness couldn't be dodged even with a tad efforts. Notwithstanding the circumstances, the childlike curiosity was the absolutely fierce motive of blemishing utterly with variety of random palettes of hues of anybody's relationship with anybody they were once candidly close and couldn't even complain. In spite of the sheerly inexorable aftermaths or rather dumped godforsaken remnants of the crude curiosity, sometimes it was even worth to demonstrate modicum of care in situations even when the nobodies barely peel a single word about their invincible sticky misery contagiously wafting into their threadbare muscles to pump into their veins and breaking their facial expressions haughtily.

"There are just problems with the marriage and it is not the same with her for months even though I haven't even talked about it with anybody." The kitchen loomed in its promisingly welcoming vista of richly adorned dining table with a brass candlesticks cozily nonchalant perched in the middle of the furniture coupled with freshly empty goblets, a tall bottle of the sinfully mouth-watering, licentious red wine, a chubby bowl of green salad and bowls of scrumptiously tangy baked beans glimmered conceitedly past your eyesight. The prominently tangy fragrance of scrumptious dinner and beverages infectiously pervaded across your amenable noses to inhale quietly stealthy, you exchanged mutually quick glances, whereas indubitably modest pouts carved upon your mouths.

"I'm genuinely sorry to hear that, Fred!" As soon as the commander divinely polite ushered you to seat on the dining table, afterwards you docilely followed his instructions and hardly inching your frail skeletons' meager distance you traded with your boyfriend. "I don't want to sound brashly prying, but what is actually wrong with your marriage with Serena?" Dozens of vowels and syllables blood-curdlingly strong-willed dueled one another for domination to formulate your inquiry begging for its an immediate response even though you and Timothy couldn't help, howsoever, catching a fleet glimpse of the older gentleman's indisputable melancholy emphasizing his tones as they were almost dying on his tongue tip.

"Well, she is quite often on business trips lately and it sharply reeks of infidelity." A quizzical quirk of his masculinely thick, dark eyebrow in the stammer sloppily sheepish foaming remarkably his jaw's flex at the controversial, low-spirited revelation momentarily creased past his facial attributes, whilst approaching the counter and maneuvering his mammoth, alabaster hands' handy fingers to snatch violently the kitchen window's spread wing and shutting it instantly shortly after dumping it for a few minutes to ventilate celestially refreshing its obnoxiously stiff air comfy suffocating the kitchen's space. "You know that even if you trust somebody you dearly love during the long-distances you share at times, there are just sharp instincts and intuition persuading you that there's something fishy behind the landscape."

"That's true somehow!" Suddenly your elvish, creamy hand slipped to retrieve modestly the wine bottle and your spidery delicate fingers working on removing the stubbornly wooden tap until it sleekly unbolting its entrance eventually, giving a larger space of the luxurious ocean of insatiably delightful red liquor willfully glinting past your vision. The bitter flavor of infidelity harshly rasped the unspeakable vividly graphic, explicit scenarios flashing into Fred's train of thoughts at the sickening mission even of pondering abysmally into the hazily venomous, lethally unbelievable seas of his nemesis. "Howsoever, it strongly depends of your partner's intentions that couldn't emulate to innocent due to the pretext of the business trip."

"Rare bird, let me help you with the bottle instead of exhausting your delicately angelic fingers!" In the interim, the former holy man yanked the bottle of wine abruptly from your grip and his orthodoxy smooth, alabaster fingers worked on removing the wooden tap and elegantly pouring its sinfully enticing red liquor engulfing the goblet's desolated surface.

The sheerly formidable courtesy of the former aspiring Monsignor has never ceased to dumbfound you even when you managed to do the most ordinary daily stuff that endured even a quarter a minute to be fulfilled eventually. Even though it was difficult to harshly spurn its blameless offer for a wee aid especially to the loveliest man you have ever laid eyes on and have had your celestially promising opportunity to encounter, due to the fact, you have mainly accommodated to individually persevere with the pettiest stuff from your daily routine, there were times when it was even worth to not reject the offered aid that may not occur any longer part of your daily episodes to ebb off its perpetually versatile retreading its energy surging through your veins and pulsating into your petite-frame.

"Why thank you, darling!" Swatting affably feather-soft your boyfriend's broad, muscly shoulder blade with the palm of your elvish hand, throughout your dry, strawberry-coloured tongue crafted its angelically mousy murmur under your breath encouragingly, pursuing eagerly for his gaze until he bored his chocolate brown depths into yours and pressing a hardening, briefly steamy kiss to seal your mouths shortly after leaving aloof the entity in the middle of the table as well. The indisputably fat golden bulb of the candles' dancing blazes engulfed its divinely hedonistic, majestic halo partly illuminating altruistically the kitchen. "If you aren't feeling comfortable or you aren't feeling like to discuss it with us, I'm totally okay with it, Fred! I swear I'm not pressuring you at all."

"It's okay, don't worry, Y/N!" A coyly humble smile struggled to buff sluggishly the host's nude pink oral slit as he participated emphatically in your company at last and his cocoa brown big, poetically round minerals landed on you boldly.

--- *** ---

--- A Few Hours Later or So ---

A few hours after dipping boldly in the misty ocean of the profoundly rational discussions the table chattered incessantly, besides savoring the promisingly inviting flavor of the uniquely marvelous wine and the dinner meal, after a handful of glasses of wine the liquor inevitably commenced to take a grave toll on all of you without shadow of a doubt. The succulently hedonistic flavor of the alcoholic beverage sweetening your tongue tips as if the lighter has recently snapped its divinely secure, welcoming flare to ignite the tall candles, resuscitating their cozy ambience's infectious plague suffusing its down-to-earth life in their very presences.

The once sober rationality avidly seaming your ocean of thoughts no longer functioned properly even nosedived quirkily in its sable oblivion fogging your visions to illustrate sufficiently logical the possible scenarios of the eventual pangs of conscience they may occur in the future. Razor-thin silver fog surreptitiously overcastted everything you could contemplate through its thin veil of the absolute reality. Everything seemed exceeding ideal to be set on its default home unlike the urgently shallow difference speaking volumes about what it could be possibly beheld through your pools of E/C.

Deliriously pathogenically huge grins decorated your profiles and the series of blatantly mewled bluntly mirthful, coy giggles expelling from your fleshy throats accompanied the tonight's small party you held. The crickets' honey-mouthed, tranquil songs were the sole background's humdrum symphony composing outside the façade and warmly escorting you, during your casual chats and purred sweet nothings between you and Timothy.

"So aren't you planning to take a taxi on your way to home?" The suddenness of straddling the British aristocrat's crotch while your rear neatly haughty readjusted its seating posture and knotting your velvet arms to brace his upper shoulders, whereas his potently muscular, protective arms affectionately bided your waist and boring your groggy, tipsily glassy gawks into the host's pools of profoundly poetic cocoa brown.

"What shall happen if we don't want even to take a taxi?"

"I'm deadly worried about picturing the scenario in a car crash due to your tipsiness." A gruffly cold-blooded, severe sigh bubbled up from the commander's brittle lungs, raising an arch of his eyebrow whilst purring sardonically velvety the promising caution and diminishing abruptly its decibels, transmuting it into a desperate, gullible mumble. Even though the tipsiness took a toll on the three of a kind miniature party, however, the commander couldn't even depict visually every graphically explicit scenario of the tragic demise of you and Timothy inside your vehicle on your way to home and being caught by the authorities in the bleakly deserted streets for alcohol in the driver's blood at last.

"We came there with Timothy's cab." Darting a nimble wink at the older gentleman then you manifested to press a peck to your lover's tender, ghostly pale forehead and sensing your folds fatalistically drenched even when the mild poke of the former holy priest's hard crotch avidly contacted your pubic bone subtly.

"Oh, I almost forgot you didn't come with a taxi up to there!" Managing to smack a perkily idle slap across his forehead due to his sheer oblivion and the fairly misty function of his cells, thus the host emitted an intoxicatingly mirthful chuckle clicking the roof of his mouth, lingering his gaze transfixed on you and restlessly grinding slowly but surely sensual your hips onto the enigmatic manhood. "Forgive my shallow mind, Y/N and Tim!" A bloodthirstily predatory, smugly wide grin crawled on the older man's parchment, still young-looking face, whilst ushering his rear to lift up from the convenient traditional bentwood and lurching emphatically towards you. "I'm admitting that I'm as drunk as a skunk. Just like you!" Hitch coursed through your frail chests whilst the intensifying thunder of the heart pulses' acceleration synced yours and your boyfriend's mischievously vehement hammers, accompanying its cherry hue darkening your complexions. "If you are dead tired, I'll escort you to the guests' room upstairs." An inviting gesticulation of his colossal, marbled hand marshaled you to diligently dash out of the kitchen in no time, dumping the kitchen table's illustration of the unhallowedly forsaken emptied glasses with its dim insatiably delicious red liquor meagerly fraternizing the glasses' surfaces surrealistically forlorn and the emptied dishes of its dinner meal.

In a long minute of the nocturnal doldrum chaperoning meticulously the trio on their way to ascend the exquisitely polished stairway to the second floor and the gamut of conjugated footsteps' nefariously diffident whispers against the creaky wooden planked floor and the stairway, subsequently during the brief mission Timothy dawdled his snaked muscular, masculinely potent arm to secure your middle until the guests' room self-consciously ajar opened door shimmered past your glassy, punch-drunk orbs. Once the ajar opened door timidly swung and elaborated its ill-famed shrill whimper when one of the host's hands pawed the doorknob, thus it bestowed you sufficient space to set foot inside the sufficiently expansive room and the lights' switched rabidly rapid when the older gentleman's long, slim fingers manipulated to fiddle the light switcher. The artificially gilt light scintillating enfolding the site bountifully in its consoling divine sanctum of promising welfare and irresistible comfort and curtaining banefully pale your exquisite facial attributes, exuding its waterfall of your ethereal grace.

"We will be fine!" Sweetly cooing into your ear as its enigmatically luscious wine-stained breathing softly fanned your earlobe, whilst the British compatriot's wine-stained nude lips smashed a doting peck on top of your head reassuringly optimistic vibrant under the intoxicatingly lewd ogle of the commander that lingered its fixation on you on his mission to slam shut the guests' room door immediately. "We just need to rest and those tipsy woes will die immediately."

"Don't be sure of yourselves to even elaborate a blink of your tipsy eyes, Y/N and Tim!"

"Don't be a dick, Fred!" Jadedly severe sigh foamed the former ambitious Monsignor's lungs, manipulating to roll his eyes at Fred's venomously hideous sarcasm fermenting his northern lilt, whereas you dropped fatalistically categorical your head on top of your lover's broad, toned shoulder. "Y/N has to rest as I do."

"You may change your mind once," At the moment, the commander's dexterous fingers worked on unfastening his tie, stilling his smoky quartz huge, rotund minerals pronging your companion along with you and then manifesting to march towards you, whilst you readjusted your seating posture and sat on top of Timothy's thighs and your rear subconsciously kneading sluggishly its hard manhood. "You try this!" The haphazardness of Fred's vehement snatch of his wrists and lashing them with his tie caught off guard Timothy whose mammoth, pearly lenient hands grazed your hips and knitting his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose, followed by a meek incline of his right eyebrow at the very thought of somebody else possessing you ultimately and sharing you with other lusciously lustful Romeo whose heart wandered to seek a shelter into yours and greatly blending even though the green-eyed monster's inescapable malady of nausea entwining in the pit of his stomach. "You won't regret a wee foreplay with your rara avis." Clearing gruffly his throat after muffling fashionably gracious his curled lip and the palm of his hand barely inched the fleshy oral slit, whilst leaning against you and his pearly porcelain, freshly young-looking façade sealed its tiny gap you exchanged in its extravagant distance, sensing his soothingly warm, flabbergastingly enthralling breathing faintly whooshing your facial skin. His lancinating pools of abysmally poetic chocolate brown yawping up into yours, thereafter darting a swift glimpse at your boyfriend for a split second, pursuing for his gaze desperately until he didn't return his sleazily lustful gaze rumbling up to yours.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, Tim! The baby doll won't regret it at all." The tightness of the tie's knot afflictively fettering your fragile wrists gradually corroded the glossiness of your breathless, flushed flesh, whereas your front ivory teeth worried on your lower lip recklessly. "Isn't that true?" Shortly before the sloppy drip of the ominously noxious husky snigger escaped the host's mouth, in the meanwhile, a swan thumb traced gingerly the very curve of your delicate jaw line and then slithered sleekly non-verbally to examine your well-sculptured cheekbone, surveying you in a studious scrutiny even when you couldn't even dare heinously unruly to motion any single muscle of your figure. Under the bloodthirstily predatory, breathtakingly savage ogles of Fred and Timothy you felt so weak, so precarious and so small as if the celestially aureate wings of your self-confidence have vigorously flicked and soaring in the ethereally timeless sky of the patchy hollow. "Baby doll?"

Sensing ferociously sharp twain of teeth worrying the crook of your velvet expanse and emitting its sleekly spongy saliva dribbling downward didn't catch you off guard, molting into the deprived freedom and feeling the medley of virginal vulnerability, tremendous desire, unconditional love and fiery lust pitching coarsely the atmosphere perkily, whereas your pastel pink lips twitched to craft a quiet, sensual moan and cocking back your head as you stung widely shut your eyelids.

"Isn't that a firm yes, Y/N?"

"Y-Yes!" While the British aristocrat's brittle, feather-soft fingertips toyed with the fabric of your dress contouring your very curves, meantime, Fred heinously strident smashed his baby-pinkish, lusciously plumpish lips to seal yours into hardening, warm kiss as you recited in a murmur the fervently sultry stutter clumsily drizzling your mouth.

"Good!"

When the emboldeningly harsh kiss escalated to more fiercely relentless, subsequently your wet, wine-stained tongues commenced dueling one another distressed for domination, whereas the former religious clergyman's fingers slipped to peel off your dress's straps sensually slow following its meek motion of the slither through your unblemished velvet bare skin until your vulnerable breasts leaked as his naturally baby-pinkish, angelically cherub lips peppered your back with dozens of wet, mellowly sultry kisses scraping the tender flesh of your spine's authentically majestic curve, admiring the crispy softness of its bone structure and seamless satin gliding softly through his oral slit. Once Fred's tongue won its solemnly complacent domination over your mouth, thus it slithered to seal your deepened kiss into French and affectionately subconscious, impulsive nuzzling your nose tips into a dearly unique, inebriating Eskimo smooch and sensing an amusingly warm calloused hand mauling the soft fat of your breast as a handful of fingers parted your erected naturally plum nipple, grinding continuously your hips against the former holy priest's bulge. The kinky thick wire of dark beard with a smidge of hoary hairs chafing against your dainty chin, whereas your mint green dress was ruthlessly discarded on the fashionably carpeted floor and your petite-frame cocked back to recline against the creamy duvet embracing your spine as nothing else than your pair of lacy ebony panties guarded your drenched folds.

"Mmm! Look at you, my rare bird!" The suddenness of the honey-mouthed purr gurgled Timothy's Adam apple and lingering his seat on the edge of the king-sized bed whilst slithering his long, slim fingers to fiddle gently on circles the smooth fabric of your lacy panties simmered its paradoxally sweltering paroxysm surging through your veins and hopelessness pulsating into your frail skeleton as you spread widely your legs.

"What an extremely wet baby girl!" Seconds before stinging their straightforwardly villainous, iron-willedly piercing ogles to you, consequently the commander and the younger man swapped a scatty glance promptly, offering each other smugly malignant smirks hauling at the corner of their mouths. "Isn't that for us?" Hunkering past the king-sized bed and spearing with his coffee brown optics, the commander registered to ghost his calloused, white-knuckled hands the overall fleshy layer of your thighs, admiring its crispy softness brushing his digits and fingertips until they descended to your round knees.

"Yes, Daddies!" A fervently fiery groan despondently slipped from your pink lips twitching timidly at the brief answer you elaborated until Fred didn't snatch the pair of lingerie securing your petite-frame and tossing them bluntly ruthless to accompany the sprawled godforsaken attire and exposing your amenable plum throbbing bundle of nerves to the male duo's lewd gawk impaling enchantedly. "Oh God!"

"It's true that you are quite wet," Suddenly the older gentleman manifested to claw your hips to spread them a tad broader to give him a better access to your throbbing bundle of nerves forging its exceeding plea to be touched and teased eventually seconds before approaching his face to scarcely part your erected clit as his wet, berry-coloured tongue worked on mischievously teasing your folds and slipping it at your entrance, in order to savor its insatiable juices sweetening his tongue tip. Unlike the older gentleman, the British compatriot's orthodoxy smooth fingers grappled one of your breasts and continuously grinding its palm and digits to tease its erected mauve nipple until he bended down to suckle its incredibly sensitive throbbing and nipping at it. "Fucking God! You are so gorgeously hot, baby doll!" After series of circulating non-verbally his swan thumb to restlessly tease its hard clit, besides savoring headstrongly its mouth-watering juices streaming against the fat of his tongue and meagerly muffling your blatantly meowed breathy moans and groans at the top of your desperately shallow lungs, thus the obdurate dawdle of your eyelids' stung shut curtain obscuring your eyesight and treasuring pearly what your favorite men were actually spellbinding you with their sinfully inviolable wonders erupting your muscles to tense at each satin touch cradling your bare, helplessly exposed epidermis.

"Holy fuck!"

"That's our girl!" A docilely encouraging swat on your inner thigh drummed coyly against your feather-soft flesh, stilling his tongue suckling each ounce of your carnal dew lathering his oral caverns at last.