Sunflowers for Three
1.
The summer afternoon at Dima Snegirev's dacha was lazy and thick, like honey. Sunlight flooded the old wooden house through the wide windows, and in the large bedroom on the second floor, the air had already warmed to the point of smelling of pine resin and freshly cut grass from the yard. A large painting in a simple frame hung on the wall above the bed—Van Gogh's bright sunflowers, a copy, but made with love; Dima's mother had once brought it back from a trip.
Dima had just come up the creaky stairs with a bottle of cold white wine and three glasses. He was wearing light linen shorts and a white t-shirt, his fair hair tousled, a thin silver
chain dangling around his neck, which he fiddled with when nervous. He was nervous now—barely noticeably, but Lika and Andrey could feel it.Andrey was already here: sitting on the edge of the huge bed, sprawled out, wearing only denim shorts, tanned bronze after a week on the river. The dragon tattoo on his left side glistened with a thin film of sweat. He lazily twirled his phone in his hands, but his gaze kept sliding to the door—waiting for his friends.
Lika entered last, barefoot, in a short white tank top with thin straps and light cotton shorts. Her hair was loose, slightly damp after a shower, a thin beaded bracelet visible on her wrist, a small butterfly tattoo on her lower back—which the guys knew by heart. She carried a tray with sliced peaches and grapes in her hands, smiling that very smile—slightly sly, slightly innocent, the kind that made both their mouths go dry instantly.
"Well, host, receive your guests," she said to Dima, setting the tray on the bedside table and immediately plopping down on the bed between Andrey and the empty spot clearly intended for the blond guy.
Dima set down the wine, poured it into the glasses. Cold drops of condensation immediately ran down the glass. He sat down on the other side of Lika, so she ended up in the center—just as they had planned all week in their correspondence.
At first, they talked about trifles: how Andrey almost capsized the kayak, how Lika burned her nose in the sun, how Dima finally finished the shelves in the shed. But the words were just background. The main thing was happening in the air between them—in accidental touches, in how Andrey put his hand on Lika's thigh, supposedly just like that, and Dima handed her a piece of peach, and she caught his fingers with her lips a little longer than necessary.
The wine was sweet, cold, easy to drink. The second glass—and Lika was already leaning back on the pillows, stretching out her legs, her feet ending up on Andrey's lap. He immediately started massaging them, his thumbs pressing on the arch, and Lika exhaled softly, closing her eyes.
Dima watched them and felt everything inside tighten with a pleasant, taut spring. He leaned over, kissed Lika on the temple, then on the neck—where the skin was especially thin and smelled of her shampoo. Lika turned her head, caught his lips. The kiss was slow, wet, with the taste of peach and wine.
Andrey didn't lag behind: his hand slid higher up Lika's leg, under her shorts, but for now just teasing, not going far. He leaned over from the other side and kissed her on the neck below the ear, where she was especially sensitive. Lika laughed softly, broke away from Dima's lips and turned to Andrey—the kiss became deep, with tongue, and Dima saw Andrey's hand slide under Lika's tank top onto her breast, squeezing gently but confidently.
"Guys... you're going to tear me apart right now," Lika whispered, but there wasn't a hint of protest in her voice, only anticipation.
Dima took her hand, placed it on his thigh, closer to his crotch—he had been hard for a long time. Meanwhile, Andrey pulled Lika's tank top up, exposing her stomach, then her breasts. The girl's nipples immediately hardened in the warm air. He leaned down and took one into his mouth, sucking, while pinching the other with his fingers.
Lika arched her back, moaned softly. Then she laughed quietly, happily, and whispered:
"Finally... I've been waiting for this summer so much."
The sunflowers on the wall watched them from above, as if approving.
2.
The room had already filled with heavy summer warmth and their shared breath. The sun was blazing fully, and golden light poured into the bedroom through the open window, reflecting off the yellow petals of the sunflowers in the painting. Empty glasses and half-eaten peaches lay scattered on the bed, the sheets slightly rumpled, and the air had grown thick with the smell of wine, skin, and light arousal.
Lika was the first to slide off the bed onto her knees, right onto the old soft rug at its edge. She looked up—at Dima and Andrey, standing nearby, already undressed. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and hunger. The tank top was still on her, but pulled up to her breasts, the shorts removed and tossed aside. Her fair hair was slightly tousled, a smile lingering on her lips.
"Come closer, boys," she said softly, and there was so much gentle command in her voice that both immediately stepped forward.
Dima stood on the left, Andrey on the right. Their cocks were already hard, slightly trembling with each heartbeat. Dima's was a bit longer, with smooth skin and a neat head, Andrey's—thicker, with a darker shade and a prominent vein along its length. Lika took them in her hands simultaneously: her right hand wrapped around Dima, her left around Andrey, slowly moving her palms up and down, feeling them tense under her fingers. The guys looked at her with passion-dazed gazes.
She alternated between them like this for several minutes: one, then the other, sometimes trying to take both at once—touching the heads with her lips and tongue simultaneously, while the guys kissed above her, their hands resting on her head, not pressing, just stroking her hair.
Lika arched, dug her fingers into the sheet.
"Yes... like that...," she whispered, closing her eyes.
Meanwhile, Andrey lay down beside her and started kissing her: first her lips, then her neck, then descended to her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucked it, lightly bit it, while teasing the other with his fingers. Lika moaned into his lips when he returned to kiss her mouth.
After a couple of minutes, they switched. Andrey took the place between Lika's legs. His style was completely different—more assertive. He immediately entered her with two fingers inside, curling them, while his tongue worked quickly and strongly on her clit. Lika trembled, her hips lifted up on their own, she was already on the edge, but Andrey sensed it and slowed down, pulled away for a second, blew cool air—and Lika whined in protest.
Dima was now kissing her breasts and neck, his fingers stroking the inside of her thighs, sometimes touching her clit with light circles, while Andrey licked her entrance and just below.
Lika writhed between them, her breathing became ragged, her hands reaching for Dima's hair, then Andrey's shoulders. Her body glistened with sweat, her nipples stood firm, everything between her legs pulsed and flowed, but they didn't let her reach the peak—each time she was close, one of them slowed down or pulled away, leaving her on the sweet, agonizing edge.
"Guys... please...," she finally exhaled, her voice trembling.
Andrey lifted his head, his lips glistening from her. He smiled his cocky smile.
"Not yet, baby. We've only just begun."
Dima kissed her on the lips, and she tasted herself on his tongue.
She knew: this was only the beginning. And she loved it terribly.
3.
The sun had disappeared behind the clouds completely, and the bedroom became dimly warm: light from the old floor lamp in the corner, turned on by Dima, fell in soft golden stripes on their bodies, on the rumpled sheets, on the bright sunflowers above the bed. Outside the window, it had grown dark, but the heat hadn't subsided; the air was thick, saturated with their scents and the quiet moans that still echoed from the previous scene.
"Come to me, baby."
Lika rose up on the bed, her legs slightly trembling after all the caresses. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, everything between her legs pulsed wetly and hotly. She knelt over Andrey, facing him. Slowly lowered herself, took his cock in her hand and guided it into her. When the head parted her lips and entered, Lika exhaled lengthily, closing her eyes: the cock was thick, filling her immediately and completely. She lowered herself all the way, feeling it press deep inside, and froze for a second, getting used to it.
Andrey took her by the hips, his thumbs stroking her skin.
"Move however you like."
Dima stood behind, watching. His long hair was tousled, drops of sweat glistened on his chest. He was already on the edge from everything he'd seen, his cock trembling. He took the lube, squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers and onto himself. Then came closer, knelt behind Lika.
Lika felt his hands on her buttocks: he spread them gently but confidently. One finger, coated with cool gel, ran over her entrance, then slowly entered. Lika shuddered, but pushed back.
"Yes... keep going," she whispered hoarsely.
Dima added a second finger, stretching, massaging, until Lika started moving between them on her own: back and forth, impaling herself on Andrey, then on Dima's fingers. Andrey beneath her growled quietly with pleasure, his hips sometimes pushing up to meet her.
When Dima removed his fingers and pressed the head of his cock against her, Lika froze, leaning her hands on Andrey's chest. Dima entered slowly, very slowly: first just the head, then a little more, letting her get used to it. The sensation was incredible: she felt absolutely filled, stretched to the limit, but without pain, only a thick, deep pleasure.
"God... both of you... inside me...," she exhaled, her voice trembling.
Dima entered all the way and froze, letting all three of them feel it. Lika felt both of them: Andrey deep in her vagina, Dima in her ass, and the thin partition between them, through which every thrust resonated doubly.
Andrey squeezed her breast with one hand, his thumb teasing her nipple, his other hand found her clit and started circular motions—precise, fast. Dima behind her wrapped his arms around her waist, pressed his chest against her back, kissed her neck, shoulder with his lips, sometimes nibbled her earlobe.
A wave washed over Lika: first slow, deep, from the very center, then faster and faster. She felt everything inside tightening, how both cocks felt even more distinct, how her clit pulsed under Andrey's finger.
"I'm... now...," she exhaled, and her voice broke.
Andrey sped up the movements on her clit, Dima entered especially deep and froze, pressing her to himself. Lika cried out—loudly, lingeringly, her body trembled, her thighs clenched around Andrey, her ass around Dima. The orgasm was long, wave-like: she felt everything inside contracting, goosebumps running over her body, tears of pleasure welling in her eyes.
The guys held her, not moving, until the waves began to subside. Lika went limp, fell onto Andrey's chest, breathing heavily. Dima slowly pulled out of her, Andrey remained inside, hugging her tighter.
She lay between them, sweaty, trembling, with a blissful smile on her lips.
"That... was... incredible," she finally whispered, kissing Andrey on the lips, then turning and kissing Dima over her shoulder.
The guys exchanged a glance over her head—satisfaction and a promise of continuation in their eyes. The sunflowers on the wall silently watched as the three lay entwined, breathing heavily, knowing this was only the middle of their sexual pleasures.
4.
After the double penetration, they lay together for a few minutes, breathing heavily and coming to their senses. Lika was in the center: her head on Andrey's chest, her arm thrown over Dima's waist. Everyone's skin glistened with sweat, the air in the room seemed thick and sweet. The floor lamp cast warm light on their bodies, and the sunflowers on the wall seemed lit from within.
Lika was the first to stir. She lazily ran her palm down her stomach, her fingers slid between her still-wet lips, found her clit and began to caress herself slowly, in circular motions. Her eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted—she looked at the guys with a content, slightly sleepy smile.
"Guys...," she drawled softly, her voice hoarse after the screams. "Are you swingers or not? Because I'm here entertaining myself alone, and you're resting."
Andrey laughed low, turned to her and kissed her shoulder.
"Swingers, swingers. Just waiting for you to say you're ready for the second show."
Dima, lying on the other side, blushed slightly, but a familiar fire had already lit in his eyes. He silently got up, knelt, then lay on his stomach in the middle of the bed, placing a pillow under his hips. His long hair spilled over his shoulders, his back arched like a bridge, his buttocks tensed in anticipation.
Andrey didn't keep him waiting. He took the lube, generously applied it to himself and to Dima. His fingers first ran over the entrance, then one, then a second—slowly, entered his partner, carefully stretching his hole. Dima exhaled softly, buried his forehead in the sheet, his fingers gripping the pillow.
Lika watched, not stopping caressing herself. Her breathing became deeper again, her clit swollen under her fingers, but she held herself on the edge—slowly, enjoying the view.
Lika couldn't hold back. She crawled aside, then lay on her back and slid under Dima from below, her head toward his crotch. His cock swayed right above her face—hard, with a large head. She rose up on her elbows, took him fully into her mouth, down to her throat. Dima shuddered, moaned louder—now every thrust from Andrey behind him resonated in her mouth.
She sucked greedily, in rhythm with their movements: when Andrey entered deep, she swallowed Dima completely, when he pulled out—she licked the head with her tongue. With one hand, she continued to pleasure herself, her fingers sliding faster and faster.
Andrey sped up the pace a little, his hips began to slap softly against Dima's skin. Sweat ran down his chest, dripped onto Dima's back. He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around Dima's waist, touched his neck with his lips.
After a few minutes, Andrey pulled out, breathing heavily.
"Switch," he said hoarsely.
They flipped over quickly and deftly. Andrey lay on his back, spreading his legs, his cock glistening with lube. Dima knelt between his thighs, took himself in hand and slowly entered. Andrey exhaled through his teeth, threw his head back, his neck tensed, veins standing out. Dima started moving—first cautiously, then more confidently, deeper.
Lika immediately straddled Andrey's face. She knelt over his head, her thighs on either side, her wet lips right over his mouth. Andrey immediately pulled her buttocks down, his tongue found her clit instantly—greedily, assertively. Lika moaned, braced her hands against the wall to keep from falling.
Before her eyes was the perfect sight: Dima fucking Andrey with long, precise thrusts, his hair falling over his face, his eyes half-closed with pleasure. She leaned forward and kissed Dima on the chest—deeply, with the taste of