PRISCILLA, STELLA & GILBERT

Thin, grey light slid through the half closed curtains. Priscilla Grant turned her face away and groaned.

"It couldn't be morning already..."

Her head pounded and her throat was dry. Why had she had all that champagne last night? She pounded the feathers in her pillow determined to catch another hour of sleep, when she heard a small voice.

"Hey! Mind where you're putting that great big fist," said Stella, crossly. "My hair is on your pillow."

"You are my pillow," added another, dozily. He nuzzled his head on Stella's breast.

"Gilbert Blythe, what are you doing here?" Stella muttered, tucking his curls away from her face.

"Sleeping," he mumbled.

"And before that?"

"Carrying you two drunkards up the stairs. You both swore you couldn't go another step, remember?"

His breath still smelled of alcohol, and he brought his hand to Stella's small breast and cupped it, comfortably.

"You make the best bed, Miss Maynard."

Priscilla stared at them; Gilbert's sleeping face belying the fact he was stealthily slipping his fingers inside Stella's chemise. His large brown hand caressed her silently. Stella made a soft sigh, but other than she that showed no signs she had noticed at all. Priss's headache was forgotten as she watched them. Pressing her thighs tightly against a sudden flood of want; for Gilbert to place his hands on her; for Stella to watch; to be the one who touched her sweet, round breasts.

She had seen them before. It was only natural when they shared a room. And hardly her fault if she noticed her friend dry her hair in front of the fire in a scrap of towel, or if Stella chose to wear nightgowns made of transparent fabric that revealed her every secret. Priscilla longed to see her coral coloured nipples... watch Gilbert kiss them... kiss them herself. Exhaling deeply she brought her hand to the strap of Stella's chemise and slowly drew it down to her elbow. Gilbert's hand almost covered Stella completely, he was kneading her as a baker kneads bread. She put her mouth to Priss's ear and whispered, hotly.

"What a ruffian he is. I'm sure you'd be much more gentle."

Priscilla needed no more encouragement and prised Gilbert's hand away.

"Like this, you oaf," she said, and drew her lips to Stella's stiffened nipple and kissed it reverently.

A groan came from all three of them; the two girls because each had secretly longed to do this for many months, and Gilbert because he had never seen anyone kiss another's breast before. He had already been hard for some time and quickly unbuttoned his trousers, flinging them to a floor strewn with dresses and shoes. It did little to relieve him, and watching Priss tease and lick Stella's breast, her neck, her mouth, made him harder still. Unable to resist, he pulled the chemise down past Stella's ribs and helped himself.

His mouth was ferocious and sucked on her greedily. Unable to concentrate Stella tore herself away from Priscilla's mouth, who happily returned to her breast, licking her swollen areolas, and flicking her tongue in short, firm strokes. It felt more blissful still. Stella attempted to stifle her cries but the sight of her two friends feasting on her made her hot, achey and wet. She often suspected Priss had feelings for Gil, but of course he was always mooning over Anne. Stella wondered what might happen she nudged them together.

Gilbert felt Stella's hand at the back of his head, he knew what she wanted but was unsure Priss would agree. Her attentions until this moment had been entirely focussed on the girl between them. He'd heard some girls were like that, and had no ambition to help them 'change their mind'. Though he thought her a handsome woman, he never thought of wooing Priscilla the way he had his other friends. Not a day passed since he was sixteen when he didn't imagine bedding Anne Shirley. And there wasn't a man (or probably a woman) who didn't dream of undressing Philippa Gordon. As for Stella, he knew his mischief had risked him being struck on the head with the chamber pot. But he also knew where he stood with her. Stella was small and feisty, with great dark eyes and a fearless wit. The sort of woman he felt comfortable with.

Priss on the other hand, was nearly as tall as he was. There was something almost masculine about her, so that he often felt uneasy when he found himself admiring her narrow hips and shapely shoulders. What he didn't want to admit was that perhaps kissing her, feeling her long limbs wrapped around him, might feel somewhat like being with a man.

Priscilla lifted her head and seeing Gilbert's sleepy hazel eyes gaze at her, pulled him toward her urgently. Unuttered desires collided as they rose to their knees, looming over Stella as she watched them with a growing anticipation.

Quickly Stella removed herself from between them and then knelt behind Priss and lifted her petticoat over her head, before deftly removing her corset. The moment she was freed Gilbert fell upon her, grinding himself against her belly as he bit and nipped her throat. Priss drew her legs around him, and Gilbert shuddered with excitement, at how different she was, how inexpressibly wicked it felt to be enveloped by someone the same size as he was. Her breasts were even smaller than Stella's, as she lay on her back they all but disappeared. Gilbert ripped the shirt from his arms and rammed his bare torso against her own.

She was easily able to manage his strength, and took her advantage after biting his nipples by pinning him onto his back. He grabbed at her desperately, wanting to maintain his dominance, and flung Priscilla onto the mattress, pressing his mouth onto hers. Breaking for air he muttered, breathlessly.

"My God, Priss, I can't get enough of you, this is... this is..."

"Do shut up, Gil," Priss said. "The sun will be up in a minute and Patty's Place will awake."

"In the mean time," Stella giggled, "something else has been up for a very long time."

The two girls exchanged a look. Without another word Priss pushed Gilbert onto his back while Stella pulled down his underwear. They stared at him, wonderingly. How had something so thick and throbbing fitted inside his cotton briefs? It reared up against his hard stomach, the tip gleaming. Without thinking Priss lowered her head and licked it, causing Gilbert to almost wail.

"You're not- oh Priss. Please... tell me you're not-" he gasped, clutching at her shoulders.

Priss gave him a cheeky grin and then positioning herself between his strong thighs took Gilbert into her mouth.

Her lips and tongue descended and Gilbert writhed helplessly, grabbing at Stella. She fell alongside him and smothered his sounds with kisses, as Priss's head bobbed up and down. The motion soon made her head ache again and she stopped to watch her chums canoodling. Gilbert's eyes were closed tight while Stella's were open. Her brown eyes twinkling with curiosity at how the mighty Gilbert Blythe had suddenly found himself at the mercy of two girls.

With the absence Priss's lips upon him Gilbert felt a measure of control and moved his hand over Stella's breasts and belly, and reached between her legs. She felt so small against him he was afraid he would hurt her and withdrawing his fingers, he shuffled down until her dark little mound was made even warmer by his quickening breaths.

He had always adored kissing women here and Stella did not disappoint. Beyond her sparse curls he found another hot sweet mouth, but this one swelled and pulsed under his tongue. She was slippery as honey, salty as the sea. Just as it was with Priss, he couldn't get enough and sighed happily as he explored her silken depths. He felt Priss's head by his own, who parted Stella's thighs even wider, before joining him. Stella trembled all the more when she realised Priss was kissing her, pressing her blonde head against her, firmly, so that Gilbert was crowded out. He pulled away, more dazed than ever, as he watched Stella writhe.

"Oh, Priss... my darling -please, yes-" she murmured, rocking over the crumpled blankets and whimpering desperately.

For months now she had she brought herself to climax by pretending it was Priscilla's lips that brought her such joy. Surely it did no harm to want her chum as much as she did? To want her more than Gilbert or any other boy? Just Priss, her darling, Priss. Who always knew just how to touch her, to hold her, to love her.

Gilbert lay by the two girls, his eyes unable to take in the beauty he was witnessing. Stella seemed so overcome she was shaking. He smoothed her dark hair tenderly, and lay small kisses on her flushed cheek,. But she was oblivious to everything but Priscilla, and soon began gripping her friend's head between her thighs and panting loudly. Again Gilbert pressed his mouth upon hers, hoping to muffle her noises, and she sucked on his lips and tongue until her body went limp.

"Sweet girl, come here -come to my arms," Stella said, shakily, motioning to Priscilla.

"I've never done anything like that before... never thought it possible," Priss said. She brought her damp and fragrant face to Stella's and kissed her.

"What can I do? I'll do anything -anything," Stella said, and went to sit up, in order to return the favour.

Priscilla pulled her back.

"No, no, stay here with me. Kiss me... hold me" she said, softly.

When he heard this Gilbert suddenly felt conspicuous. He would have happily laid next to these two and watched them take delight in each other all day. Yes, he was uncomfortably hard and longed to relieve his desire, but for now he was content to gaze at his friends in awe.

Priss had other ideas. She turned to Gilbert and said to him, "It's you that I want."

Gilbert's mouth went dry. The light in the window went from grey to gold. He saw the look in her dark blue eyes and knew what she was asking of him.

"Are you certain?" he said, hardly able to wait for her answer before he fell upon her.

Again he felt her long legs wrap around his back. Again he felt an unconscionable thrill as her breasts flattened. He took in her wide collarbones and her firm, flat stomach. She was the most ungirlish girl he had ever known. Stella in contrast huddled sweetly next to her, her dark eyes wide with excitement. She wrapped her thin arm around Priss's neck and wove her fingers with her friend's.

As he held himself above them Gilbert had the incredible sensation that we was about to make love to two women at once. It was too much, too much... He felt himself about to burst. To see Stella nuzzle Priss's ear and snake her tongue down to her breasts; to feel of Priss beneath him, so hot and slick, made him almost lose control.

He doubted he could last more than a few minutes, and so hard he wondered if Priss could take him. Instead he slid inside her with the merest sense of resistance. She was so open and satiny soft after three of four strokes Gilbert knew he no longer needed to hold himself back. He bent his head to kiss her, then Stella, then watched as they began to kiss each other. All the while he moved in and out, swiftly and deeply, never wanting it to end.

It was with no little anguish that he pulled out hastily and scrambled into the closet when a knock was heard on the bedroom door. He pressed himself against winter coats and ball gowns craning to hear who had come in. He heard giggles first and then Stella's voice. For a few minutes more there was sickening silence, then Priscilla opened the closet door.

"It's alright, Gil, it was just Stella's aunt. Apparently there's an enormous spider looming above her bed."

She was wrapped in a sheet and folded it around Gilbert. Her blue eyes met him directly while her hands slid between his thighs. He felt her hand gripping him purposefully, sliding over his length. Gilbert winced, having been on the verge for so long now it almost hurt to be touched.

As if she knew this Priscilla fell to her knees, taking him into her mouth once more. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, terrified of being caught, of being heard, yet it was beyond his power to deny himself anymore. Gilbert watched her suck and kiss him, her long hair tangled down her back. The closet filled with the musky fragrance of sex. He grabbed at the rail behind his neck, clutching it urgently as he tried to prevent himself climaxing.

Priscilla could sense the tension mounting in him, her legs were stiff and his eyes squeezed tight. She stopped for a moment and looked up at him.

"Let go, you, ninny. I want you to," she whispered.

"No, it's not right, it's not right-" Gilbert said, hoarsely; knowing in his heart that all he wanted to do was release himself into her hot, wet mouth.

He felt her hands grab his hips as she crammed even more inside her.

"Oh Priss, please- you've got to stop-" Gilbert pleaded, gripping at the rail until he was afraid he would tear it down.

Priss redoubled her efforts and took the entire length of him into her throat. It was then Gilbert knew he had no chance and gave in willingly. A river of want flooded his body and Priss took every drop.

Slowly she drew herself up, her damp brow touching Gilbert's, a sleepy smile on her face.

"You've done that before," Gilbert said, shakily.

"I'm surprised you haven't," Priss replied.

He brought his hand to her face.

"You're no virgin either, are you, Miss Grant?"

"Neither are you, Mr Blythe."

She drew her lips to his, he was reluctant to kiss her at first, afraid of how it might make him feel. But as he felt her tongue softly flick his bottom lip, he opened his mouth and kissed her deeply. She drew back after a moment and twitted his nose.

"Nothing to be afraid of, Gil. We;re the same, you and me."

Gilbert nodded mutely as she reached for his hand and squeezed it. If he could only love her, how much simpler life would be.

"Now," she said flinging open the closet door, "do you think there is a dress of mine you might fit? I think it might be the only way we'll be able to sneak you out of here."

"So long as promise to sneak me back in," he said, and looked out the window to size up a likely tree that might help him make his escape.